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#modern Hvitserk au
jadelynlace · 5 months
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A Slice of Lime, Please⎮Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]⎮Deleted Scene
read more Ink Drinker here
Author's Note: With the general time line of this blurb, and the video I saw earlier, I've concocted this piece. And trust me, I was grinning like an idiot the whole day at the station as I kept going back to this. This is a much lighter piece over the angst of the next blurb coming. I said what I said.
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It’s sweaty bodies, music a bit too loud for your liking, and the general wave of the patterns voices as eye swatch the game on the screen. They pull out quietly, only to round up their decibels a moment later. You agreed to the night out when you were in much better spirits and now you’re following through with it all and you hate it. 
These are the moments you loathe—being out with nothing to show for the fact that you and Ivar are together. Except, you’re not. To keep the bubbling beast of Ivar’s anxiety at bay, but you would go to the ends of the earth if you thought it would help him.
Sometimes, you wonder if anyone knows; every so often you catch Hvitserk looking at you for a second more than what seems appropriate. And rather than question it, you let him sit in his own unease with whatever it is he’s searching for. Right now, it’s his expression as he watches you, watch another woman offering to buy Ivar a shot. 
You watch this woman undress him with her eyes, pulling the black tee from where it’s tucked to reveal the ink on his chest, the muscles you traced your nails over that morning. How she brings her pupils up and down and wonders if his size matches with what she’s looking at. You have half a mind to tell her that it does. You wonder if she wants to know about his interest, his quirks, or if she just wants to look at him. Instead, you look back at Hvitserk and raise your brows; if you’re going to have a feeling, it better be towards something you can handle.
“What?” You ask Hvitserk and he shakes his head. 
“Nothing, nothing,” He lies and you narrow your eyes.
“Hvitty?” You then ask. “Hvitserk,” You demand.
“Y/N, it’s nothing,” He then tells you and you can see he’s starting to dig the hole.
“You’ve been doing that for the last week,” You grumble.
“It’s just…” Hvitserk starts.
“Yeah, a slice of lime, please,” You hear Ivar say to the bar tender.
“On the rig check yesterday…” Hvitserk starts.
“Hey, brother,” Ivar snaps his fingers behind him, “No work talk. No firefighter stuff,” And Ivar turns back around.
“I’m trying to tell something to my partner,” Hvitserk says, placing a very careful emphasis on how he speaks. 
“Are you having a stroke?” Ivar tries.
The woman follows, two shots, two lime slices, and she hands Ivar’s respective parts to him. 
“No, I’m not,” Hvitserk snaps.
“Well, you’re about to,” Ivar says and he takes the lime slice—and much more quickly than you anticipate from his large hands—shoves the rind between your lips. Without a word to the other woman he tosses the shot back, his neck snapping backwards before his hands reach to your cheeks as he pulls you forward, sucking the lime from between your lips.
You feel your heart stop, your body moves with how Ivar dictates, and Hvitserk doesn’t miss the way you close your eyes, or the way both yours, and Ivar’s beings deflate. He tries so very hard to hide the smile that comes over his lips and he fails. But, he doesn’t quite care.
The moment you feel Ivar slowly pulls back, your eyes open quickly, widely as they watch his slowly open. 
“Oops,” He tries, “Must have mixed you two up…” He says so that only you can hear it, bastardly smirk on his lips. “Is she still there?” Ivar adds, louder.
“Nope,” Hvitserk states. “And for the record, Ivar, cardiac arrest is the correct medical term. That wouldn’t cause a stroke,”
“It wouldn’t?” Ivar tries, “Oh, I guess that’s why you majored in para-medicine and I majored in mathematics,”
You spit the lime out into your hand and hand it to Ivar, who only offers you a wink.
“Can’t be surprised by what you already know,” Hvitserk sings. 
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bjornswoman · 10 months
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My prisoner
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Requested by none.
Author's note: Hello! I've been away for a while and I'm sorry about it. I wanted to come back with a fic about Bjorn, but this one was something that I was thinking for a while and I decided that this one will come out first. I want to believe that vikings fandom are still active. Anyway, till next time have fun and take care.
Pairing: Modern!Hvitserk x Reader.
Genre: Modern!au, drama, romance, fluff.
Summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks free from prison.
Warnings: Drama, mentions of prison break, mentions of death.
Life had never been easy for you.
When you thought that things started getting better, something really bad happened and you were back to zero.
Life had shown you its worst face so far.
You had lost your parents at young age. You were struggling all alone, dealing with two awful jobs and an ex that was more pain in the ass than all the bills you had to pay at the end of each month.
Your life became much more difficult when you decided to get involved with the most infamous family of the city — the Lothbroks. These men — the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, a mobster — they run a dangerous gang the one their father had founded. You couldn't even want to think about all the illegal stuff they were doing and the police was after them.
The bad thing in that was that the police had you under their microscope, as well, because you were Hvitserk Lothbrok's girlfriend — ex girlfriend.
And things became even worse than before when they put him in jail, after your break-up, and he decided with the help of his family to break free.
The police was following each movement of yours. They were tracking your phone number, listening to all your phone calls, expecting to learn about your ex. They had even someone outside your apartment to watch you over.
You told them over and over again that you had nothing to do with that filthy man anymore, but they wouldn't believe in you.
You let a long breath leave your lungs as you were cleaning the bar counter.
"What is it again?" One of your coworkers asked. Well, Hope was more than a coworker, she was your friend.
The only one you could talk to and not raise any suspicions. You were friends with Torvi — the wife of Ubbe Lothbrok — and Gunnhild — the wife of Bjorn Lothbrok — but you couldn't see them, it was too risky to get in touch with any member of the family. Of course, the police kept a close eye on them, but still you couldn't have any kind of communication with any of the family.
"It's the usual problem with... him." You said as you were placing the clean glasses on their place behind the counter.
"The police is following me around like I'm some kind of a bloody criminal because I made the mistake to start a relationship with a mobster." You spoke angrily and threw the towel on the counter. You were so angry, so frustrated with all this mess. Your hands run through your hair.
"I know that this is difficult for you, but it is going to end, sweetheart. It will end when they get this son of a bitch back where he belongs — in prison." She said wih an encouraging smile on her face and her hand rubbed your back friendly.
Only those words weren't encouraging for you. Deep in your heart you didn't want him to get caught and sent back inside there again. It hurt you to think that the man you loved were inside a called cell.
It was true that he wasn't the best guy in the world, not even close to that. Hvitserk had done some bad things that he wasn't proud of and he had regretted of doing. He had a good heart and wanted to be better.
You forced something that was the resemblance of a smile on your face and followed her to the kitchen to get the orders and walk them to the costumers.
"Did he try to contact you after you know?" Hope asked you suddenly and you nodded your head as an answer — no he didn't and it quite hurt you. But you had broken up before he got in.
"At least, he didn't dare to after all he did."
You frowned when you heard the tone of her voice. Hvitserk had never hurt you. In fact, the reason he broke up with you was because he didn't want to involve you in his mess, in the shit he was deep into, but it was late for that.
"He didn't harm me." You muttered when you got back with an epty tray in your hands.
Hope rolled her eyes and continued to place the drinks on her tray. When she finished, she turned her eyes on you.
"But he harmed other people. He is a criminal. Prison is where he belongs." Those where her words before she waltzed through the tables with her tray in hands.
Her words were harsh for a man she didn't know at all. Yeah, Hvitserk did awful things, but he wasn't just that. You had seen the good side of his. You had seen the little broken child in him. The one who felt full when you showed him your love and affection. The one who tried to shield your heart even from him.
The rest of your shift went by as usual. There weren't many clients as a typical Wednesday night. But things changed when you got that damned phone call.
It was a couple of times before the closing time when Torvi called. You didn't expect her to, you didn't expect anyone from the family to reach for you. When you saw her name on the screen, you used the back door to get out and answered her call.
"Torvi?" The tone of your trembling voice gave away easily to level of your concern about Hvitserk. Torvi wouldn't call if something bad did not happen. Something had happened. Something that you wouldn't like to hear.
"What happened? You know that it's not safe to speak through the phone." Your body was pressed on the wall next to the door and your hand was clenching the phone.
"Something came up which we don't know whether it stands or not, but I had to inform you because Ubbe said that they are 80% sure that it's true." You felt the despair and sadness in the tone of her voice as well as you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
Hvitserk — your mind screamed but your tongue didn't. You waited to hear more before you even try to fight back your emotions.
"Tell me for the love of Gods! What happened?" You were almost crying now.
Torvi took a deep breath before her next words.
"They found a body — a body in a really awful state. It's unrecognizable. At the time were are talking they are in a lab waiting for the results of the DNA analysis. But, Ubbe said that they are almost sure that the body belongs to Hvitserk. He didn't contact the brothers after the escape, they thought he was hiding and would eventually come out, but he didn't."
You couldn't hear the most of it. You collapsed on the floor halfway and closed your eyes forcefully in an attempt to fight the waterfalls of tears to fall. Your free hand moved on your face and it touched your forehead.
You stopped hearing. You were crying. He couldn't be dead. Hvitserk couldn't die. Not like this.
"They killed him and threw his body in a ditch in a middle of nowhere. The people who killed him are the same who framed him with this murder he didn't commit." She continued, but you couldn't hear anymore. Your brain couldn't process all these. You couldn't process the fact that Hvitserk was dead.
"Hvitserk..." You muttered his name like it was a prayer between your sobs.
"I know it hurts but you—"
You didn't let her finish. You ended the damned call and let your phone fall from your hands. You hid your face in your palms and let yourself cry and mourn the love of your life — the only person you were able to love this much and loved you back in his own different way.
After some time, you gathered your broken heart and the pieces of your body and got in. You wiped your tears and cleaned your face with some fresh water. You had to stay strong for a couple of times and then you could cry all your wanted.
At the closing, you took out the trash in an attempt to cry to yourself for a bit in the darkness where no one could see your tears for the man you loved the most. You were so sad and shattered that you didn't notice a black figure approaching you.
You only noticed when one of his hands was on your mouth and the pushed you in a dark corner. You eyes opened widely and your heart beat went faster until you saw the face of your captor.
He let you see his face. He took his hood off and got rid of the black scarf which was covering his mouth and nose. When you could finally see him, he freed your mouth and you gasped.
"You!" You whispered out of breath. Your hand run on his features that you missed so much. The last time you could saw him in person was many months ago, almost a month before he got arrested.
"Shh!" His index finger was on your lips.
"Don't shush me! I thought you were fucking dead! Torvi called an—" All your whisper-yelling stopped when his lips fell violently on yours. The very thing he did every time he wanted to get away feom scolding. But this time you weren't going to get mad or stop him, until not as long as you could breathe.
His skilled lips were moving just perfect on yours and the facial hair he had were just perfect. His hands grabbed you by the waist and you placed your own hands around his neck. Your body was pressed on the wall by his own.
This kiss felt like salvation. It was like you were whole again. It felt like you could breathe even if you didn't. You didn't want it to stop, but it had. After all, you two had many things to discuss.
Much to your displeasure, it stopped because of the lack of air to your lungs. His hands left your waist and moved on your face where he caressed your cheeks softly.
But that loving moment didn't last long, before he noticed, your hand collided with his cheek violently and his head turned at the side.
"Was that necessary? Why did you do it?" Hvitserk whisper-yelled. His palm was on his hurting cheek that had your mark on it, along with the mark of your nails.
"You scared me to fucking death with your bloody lies. Plus, you were a total dick to me when I called you in jail." You spoke and gazed at him. You had missed him terribly.
"Hey!" With that Hvitserk grabbed your face between his hands. Your faces were dangerously close for once more. "I told you, you shouldn't have called me there. As for my little lie, it was my only chance to see you." You spoke and left a soft kiss on your forehead.
"And how would that be? The police is out there waiting for a stupid movement of yours — exactly like this one — to get you. They are after me — following every step of mine. You shouldn't be here." You told him and tried to leave him in the darkness. You didn't want him to get caught because of you.
Hvitserk didn't let slip from his hands. His strong grip held there in from of him.
"It's dangerous, Hvitserk." You whispered at him.
Hvitserk smirked and one of his hands placed a strand of hair behind your ear.
"See that was exactly my plan with all this dead body lie. Indeed, there was a body, but not mine — obviously — and we used it to mislead them. They will try to find the body and they won't pay attention to you. At least, not as much as they did." He explained and you smiled.
"Ivar's plan?" You asked all smiling and he smiled back.
"Like you don't know the answer to that."
After that, you stayed there gazing at each other, having only the stars witnessing this moment between you.
"Why did you break my heart?" You asked as your eyes were only on his. You wanted to hear the truth coming out of his mouth.
His green eyes were glowing under the lights of the stars.
"I – I don't deserve you. You are kind and sweet and so angelic and I am the exact opposite. I am so filthy that I'll defile your purity. I've done things that I'm not proud about — bad things."
"Then why are you here now?"
Your question made him think about it himself once more. His eyes were looking only deep inside yours. You could feel his pain when he talked about the stuff he did, you could feel everying through those eyes. It hurt you to think that he felt this way for himself.
"Behind the bars, in that cell, the only thing you can do is thinking. You're thinking about all the right and wrong decisions of your life till the moment you got in — especially the wrong ones keep you up all night. And what kept me up was you. The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice, you laugh, your scolding. I just couldn't live knowing that I hurt you. I love you. My life without you is meaningless."
"Just never push me away again, okay?" You spoke as your hand wiped a couple tears away from your eyes. Hvitserk help you and when there weren't any more tears in your eyes, he caressed your skin softly.
"I love you, you idiot." You muttered and kissed him again. This kiss was so much different from the previous one. It soft and loving.
"The plan is to never let you slip away from me ever again." He spoke as he was caressing your hair.
"And how is that supposed to happen?"
"We will leave together here and now."
You frowned. You weren't expecting him to say something like this. You pushed him back, so you could face him.
"Wait... You want us to leave everything behind — our lives — and run away. This – this is....." You couldn't form a proper sentence. You were to process his proposition.
Kattegat was everything you knew — the place you called home. Everyone you knew was here and by that you meant your friends and some very distant relatives. Apart from your life, his life was in this place. His family, his job.
"(Y/N), there's nothing for us here. If I stay, I'll go to prison and I won't be able to hold you ever again. I will leave at the end of the day, there is no future for me in this city." Both of your hearts were beating fast at the thought that you would never see each other again after this night.
It was true that there was nothing here for you, only these two jobs that you hated. You couldn't know what future had in store for you, but if you let Hvitserk leave alone, you would hate yourself for the rest of your life.
Hvitserk's hand grabbed yours and closed it in both of his palms, but before that his finger gripped your chin and moved your head in such position that you could look at each other.
"The clock is ticking — the time is running fast. You have to give me your answer now. Are you coming with me right now?"
His eyes were begging you to say yes.
His heart was begging you to say yes.
But your mind was the problem. Your mind was hesitating to follow him wherever he was going to take you.
You closed your eyes for a moment. You couldn't choose between your heart and your mind. A whole war had broke inside you.
"(Y/N)?"
At the sound of your name on his lips you opened your eyes.
"I will come wherever you are willing to go. I can't live without you, my love." You told him and hugged him tightly.
Hvitserk wrapped his hand with yours and pulled you close to him.
"Are you sure? If we leave now — together — there's no coming back. We will be both fugitives." He told you smirking.
You chuckled when you heard him.
"That's a risk I'd love to take for you."
With those last words Hvitserk and you run away from the police and the city forever.
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multific · 11 months
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Someone to Love
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Hvitserk x Reader
Summary: Hvitserk as many others, always had a dream.
All he ever wanted to was someone to love. It is all he could dream about.
And one dream seemed very real.
Maybe too real.
In his dream, he could see himself. As if he watched from someone else's eyes.
He saw himself walking the streets of Kattegat. Heading to a house. A house he had never seen before.
Hvitserk followed himself into the house.
"Love?" he heard his own voice, so clear. 
"Here." a female voice came from the bed, Hvitserk watched as he headed over to the bed. 
"How are you feeling? Should I call the healer?"
"No. I'm only tired. Grab her please, I fed her not long ago, just..."
"Okay, you sleep, I will grab her." Hvitserk watched the woman on the bed. He had never seen her, but she looked like a Goddess. A tired-looking Goddess. And soon, he found out why when he heard the cries of a young child. 
Soon, his dream self stood up with a bundle in his arms, smiling at the little one as he watched himself walk away from the bed.
He rushed after the man who looked exactly like him.
Seeing him holding a young little girl a smile on his own face.
"Let's not cry now, Hellena. Your mother is tired she needs to sleep."
Hvitserk was struck, at least he felt like lightning just struck him.
He nearly fell as he felt the tears in his eyes. 
He looked so calm and happy, holding his own daughter.
This is everything he ever wanted.
And here in his dream, he had it.
A family. A wife and a beautiful daughter. Hvitserk never wanted to wake up. But of course, he had to.
And when he did, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.
For the upcoming moon, he had a different dream about his family. 
Many dreams including the woman, his wife, and him. A happy life with a daughter.
Something his mind made up. 
Yet it looked way too real.
He felt as if the Gods were playing a cruel play with him, making him see all these beautiful dreams only to wake up alone.
Hvitserk had been through a lot. He lost his brothers, he wandered the streets and yet, his dream never changed. 
He just wanted someone to love and someone to love him.
He wasn't even supposed to be there, he was travelling from village to village when he ran into a market. He was meant to go around it, avoid the crowd but something pulled him in.
And soon, he locked eyes with her.
The beautiful woman from his dreams, she was looking at different coats and dresses when he looked up and made eye contact with Hvitserk for even just a moment.
And that moment was enough for him. 
He felt as if lightning struck him.
He knew better than to scare her, so he took is slow. Even if all he wanted was to marry her on the spot.
And his opportunity arrived not long after when an old drunk man went up to her and started to touch her. 
Didn't even take Hvitserk a second, he rushed to your side and defended you from the old man.
"Thank you." you said to the handsome stranger.
And it was only the beginning.
---
As you found out Hvitserk was a very stubborn man.
Stubborn and charming. 
"I feel like I'm already in love with you." he said upon meeting you only for the third time. He kept surprising you.
"All Vikings are like you?"
"No, I'm only special." he said smirking.
There was something about him, something that just kept you on the edge but you also found it comfortable.
You felt like you were also in love with him.
And when he kissed you for the first time, it was as if everything fell into place, as if everything just made sense.
The way he kissed you, the way he held you close, you felt as if this was your true calling. To be his.
It didn't take long for you two to get married.
As he placed the ring onto your finger, he looked into your eyes.
"All I ever wanted was to love and be loved. You are my destiny, I love you, Y/N."
After meeting you, Hvitserk stopped having dreams about you. He was now living his dream.
And soon, much like in his dream, a child was born.
You gave him a son. 
"He looks just like you." you said as he entered the room, trying to process what just happened when the nurse finally let him in to see you. He held his son for the first time. "I was thinking, we can name him Ivar after your brother."
Hvitserk couldn't stop the tears from falling as he held his son.
He felt his heart as if it could burst at any moment. 
The little boy looked at his father as Hvitserk sat down on the bed beside you.
He finally had his dream, a beautiful wife and his own little Ivar.
"I love you Hvitserk."
"Thank you." he said as he kept on repeating, knowing his past, you weren't surprised nor did you ask, you just watched him holding your son as you drifted off to sleep. 
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istorkyou · 6 months
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A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)
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A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)
Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.
Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?
Word Count - 3113
Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree
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Chapter 14 - Final Chapter
He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.
He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.
One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.
A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.
“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”
He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.
When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.
Coming home. Too dangerous now.
See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.
He texts back quickly.
Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.
As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.
Always and forever, no matter how far apart.
———————
He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.
”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.
Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”
Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”
“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”
Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”
“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”
———————
He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.
It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.
The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.
“Alone?”
“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.
“I missed you so much, Liet.”
“Fuck I missed you so much too.”
They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.
Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.
“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”
“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”
Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.
It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.
When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.
“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.
“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.
They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.
“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”
“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”
“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”
Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.
“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”
“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”
A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”
A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”
“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”
Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.
She is ready now.
Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.
“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”
He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.
“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”
His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.
The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.
“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”
“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.
She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”
“Tell me more about him, baby.”
They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.
“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”
“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”
“8 hours.”
“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.
Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.
He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”
Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.
————————-
9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.
They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.
“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”
He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”
They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.
—————————
His phone beeps dead on 11am.
Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.
He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.
“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.
“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”
“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”
Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”
Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.
Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”
——————-
Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.
But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.
He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.
His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.
“Liet?”
She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.
“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.
————
The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.
“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”
“I can see that.”
“Shall I take the shot?”
“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.
Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”
—————
Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”
Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.
“In the next life, love,” she says
“Always and forever,” he replies.
She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.
———-
“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”
Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.
———-
Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.
The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.
He will be the best father to their son
For her.
His beautiful Liet.
FIN.
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the-knight-of-kisses · 9 months
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Athelstan, helping Ragnar's sons cram for an exam: Sigurd: Sweet Jesus, it's morning already! What are we going to do? Athelstan: Well, maybe we could start with calming down. Sigurd: Calm down? We're still on William The Conqueror, priest! We haven't so much looked at the famine! Athelstan: You've got the gist. They ran out of food. Ivar: Well, I can't tell my rebellions from my risings. Athelstan, getting stressed: And whose fault's that? If you lot had stopped invading us for five fucking minutes there'd be a lot less to wade through, you Viking prick!
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A Loðbrók Magazine AU for your special day @ritual-unions 💕
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ritual-unions · 10 months
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Distractions
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Modern!Hvitserk x OFC 
Prompt: Role | Obedient, Bratty, Dominant for @vikingsevents #smuttyvikings
Summary: Hvitserk has to punish his girl when she shows up to his mother's annual garden party, the one day he asked her to behave, in a dress he has deemed too short.
warnings: nsfw, mentions of blow job
If she hadn’t worn that damned sundress he wouldn’t be this upset but she had to tempt, and at his mother’s annual garden party no less. 
“No distractions today,” Hvitserk mumbled, head rolling back as she flounced up to him. She tapped the side of her hip with his. His hand crept around her waist and it took everything in him not to travel further south. Her ass was so grab-able today. The stretchy material of her dress barely grazed her thighs. There was no way she was going to be able to sit down for tea with his mother and her friends and not show off her panties. 
Did she have panties on?
“I couldn’t help myself,” she replied cheerfully, ignorant of the way Ubbe and Sigurd watched on with wide owl-like gazes, unblinking and silent. “I feel like I need to get bent over and -” 
Hvitserk’s hand covered her mouth before she could finish. He could not hear those words come out of her mouth, he would get hard right here, in his mother’s garden. Sigurd laughed loudly causing a few of the guests to look their way. Ubbe rolled his eyes, pushing into Sigurd, motioning to him that they were leaving. 
Nothing says fuck me like a sundress, she had said to him not a week earlier as she tried on said dress. It was black with small yellow sunflowers printed across the stretchy material. He would have fucked her in the dressing room that moment if he thought she could be quiet enough. 
She could not. She had never been quiet when it came to fucking. 
He dropped his hand when he got a sidelong glance from his mother as she passed by and then disappeared behind her prized rose bush with a friend attached to her arm. 
“Come,” he tugged on his girlfriend’s arm. 
“Gladly,” she beamed, following into the main house and up the stairs where he knew they would not be disturbed. 
He locked the door behind him, just to make certain no one walked in, when he turned around she was already bent over the bathroom counter, naked ass presented to him, as she stared at his reflection in the mirror. 
A smile touched his mouth at her naïveté. There was no way she getting fucked today, not after her distracting behavior on the one day he had asked her to behavior herself. 
“No,” he said and laughed lightly when a frown formed on her face. He reached out, unable to help himself, grabbing the fullness of her ass with one hand as the other reached for the button of his slacks. “Get on your knees.” 
The look of disbelief paled her features. She almost looked embarrassed to be commanded in such a way but Hvitserk knew she was not as easily shamed as she was playing at. Her favorite place to fuck was in the car or the bathroom of the downtown club they liked to frequent. 
“Show me what you’re capable of,” he nodded to her in the mirror, tugging at her fleshy behind before moving between her thighs where he palmed her wet vulva lips. “You know you want to.” 
She nodded her head, adjusting her dress as she turned to face him, her gaze caught on his collar bones before she slowly slid to her knees. 
“That’s my good girl,” he said, fingers carding through her hair as he wrapped her thick locks around his wrist. He would need leverage as she made up for her bratty behavior. 
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barnes-lothbrok · 1 year
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Modern Ragnarsons
The Lothbrok brothers (excluding Sigurd ans Björn)
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madamechoukette · 2 years
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Ubbe , driving Ivar and Hvitserk : So how was your day?
Ivar: We almost got surprise adopted!
Ubbe : What?
Hvitserk : We almost got kidnapped.
Ubbe : Oh, okay.
Ubbe : *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!
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Vantalaður Ást
Ivar Lothbrok Hvitserk Lothbrok x F!Reader
Chapter 16 - Chapter 17.
A/N: So I wrote a little blurb about how I was sorry this had taken so long, but tumblr deleted my first draft and I legit don’t give a fuck anymore 🤣 blah blah @kaybee87 this is for you 😘
Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, p in v (wrap it up irl.) alcohol, weddings, addiction mentions, pregnancy mention (not reader), the boys being boys.
Word Count: 7.9k+
Tagging: @ivarisms @majesticwren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @smears-and-spots @bulmabhadie @southernbe @ironynoticony @xceafh
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Your boots were muffled on the plush carpet as you strode down the corridor. The boys had the biggest suite in the hotel, three bedrooms and a living area as well. Hvitserk had told you all about it and sent you pictures, it looked lovely. They were out last night getting rip-roaringly drunk and you had to mute your phone at one point because Hvitserk was blowing up your notifications and the girls were getting curious.
Pulling out the key card you slipped it quietly into the door, letting the light turn green before carefully stepping inside. It was dimly lit, a lamp on a small table casting a faint glow into the small hallway area before it spread into the room itself. Smiling, you crouched down and gently touched the sleeping form that was resting against the wall. He stirred, his eyes opening and when he saw it was you a wide, sleepy smile split his face.
“Elsku dúllan mín,” he whispered, reaching for your face to pull you to him. Recoiling slightly, your nose scrunched up at the smell of him.
“Jesus, Hvitserk. You smell like a bar!”
“I didn’t want to miss you arriving,” he said with a needy tone that made you smile and lean into him. His lips were so welcoming and you exhaled softly against him. You had been apart for a few days before the wedding and you had missed him.
“Why are you on the floor, Hvitserk?”
“I knew what time you were coming, I moved out here so I could kiss you before anyone saw.” Leaning forward you rewarded him with another, mind bendingly, tender kiss. Your fingertips ghosted over the side of his face and his hand fisted in your top.
“We should stop,” you breathed, keeping your eyes closed because you didn’t want this moment to end.
“Don’t worry. No one will see us,” his gaze dropping to your lips once more before he kissed you harder this time. A tiny moan of desperation leaving you, his arms pulling you off your feet and into him.
“Hvitserk?” A voice called. You don’t even remember getting up. But by the time Ivar had rounded the corner you were standing, hitching the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder while Hvitserk smirked on the floor. Elbows on his raised knees and a thumb swiping along his lips like he could still taste you. Ivar glanced between you both but his expression was impassive, leaning heavily on his cane. You made a note to make sure his meds were in his pocket before you left.
“What are you doing on the floor, huh?”
“Resting,” replied Hvitserk. “Still recovering from last night, brother.”
“You absolutely stink,” you commented and he sniggered lightly.
“I’m going for a shower now,” he jumped up towering over you as he stretched, his back to Ivar he gave you that puppy dog grin as your eyes locked. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“Fat chance,” you retorted. Placing your hands on his hips you shimmied past him in the small space, highly aware of how close he was and hoping Ivar wasn’t reading too much into this. “You ready?” You asked the youngest Lothbrok, trying to dispel the breathlessness from your tone.
“More than the rest,” he answered, glaring at his brother who you could just tell was still smirking even as he sauntered back to his room. You followed Ivar into the living area, seeing a mini bar against one wall and Ivar perched on a stool there. You emptied your bag onto the bar surface, scattering bands, combs, hair wax and gel. You concentrated on setting everything up as Ivar watched. His blue eyes were focussed when you dared to glance at him, his head resting in the palm of his hand and hair framing his handsome face. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension that had collected between you.
“Was last night fun?” He stirred, breaking out of his reverie at the sound of your voice. His piercing gaze slid to you and for a minute you wondered if he knew the secret you bore. You always felt like Ivar could read you, better than even Hvitserk. Especially with the way he noticed even the smallest details about someone.
“It was what you would expect for a night out with my brothers.” You grinned fondly as memories surfaced.
“It’s been a while since I joined you all.” Ivar shrugged and sat up straight as you came round behind him.
“Hvitserk wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You didn’t miss the light hearted, yet probing tone of Ivar’s voice. Your hands didn’t falter though and you raked the comb through his soft strands without missing a beat.
“We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few months,” you finally responded and Ivar scoffed, his fist closed firmly around the handle on his cane.
“Uh huh.” He didn’t say anything else because Ubbe appeared from around the corner. He squinted at you and then threw himself onto a sofa with a groan.
“What time is it?” He rasped, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Struggling, brother?” You tugged on Ivar’s hair in warning and he sighed heavily.
“How are you….functioning?” Ubbe asked Ivar as he hung over the arm of the sofa watching you do his youngest brother's hair.
“I was sensible. And I knew we had to be up early. I didn’t get so drunk I acted like an idiot all night long either.”
“No. You don’t need alcohol for that Ivar,” Sigurd announced his arrival with that comment, making Ivar turn his head and you dropped the braid.
“Stay still!” You hissed, forcing his head back round. “No arguing today. This is Björn’s big day and if I so much as sniff the pair of you taking chunks out of each other, I will personally march you from the wedding myself.” You jabbed the comb in Sigurd’s direction and he held up his hands to show he surrendered. “You too,” you stated, poking Ivar in the shoulder and making him curse softly.
“She’s right,” Ubbe mumbled. “No fighting.”
“Did I hear my litla systir?” You let Björn hug you from behind, wrapping you in one of his famous snuggly bear hugs. He leaned on your shoulder, squeezing you hard round the middle before releasing you.
“Nervous, brother bear?”
“Nah. Should I be?” He asked quickly and you shook your head.
“They were all still asleep when I left this morning but the excitement is popping.” You finished off Ivar’s hair, tying the last braid and resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re done. Sigurd?” Applying some wax to your hands you scrunched his curls before segmenting out some strands at the side and began to braid them close behind his ear. “What am I doing with yours, Björn?”
“Just redoing the braids.”
“What about me?” You glanced up only to feel a flame in your face at the sight of Hvitserk fresh from his shower. He still had droplets of water settling like diamonds on his skin. His tattoo that you had traced with your fingers while he told you about it, rippled as he poured himself some water for the small sink behind the bar. He leaned easily against the counter, the towel slung dangerously low and it was all you could do to keep your eyes trained on Sigurd’s braids.
“Put some fucking clothes on!” Sigurd grabbed a handful of your bands and threw them at Hvitserk.
“Hey! I need those!”
“I’ve got them, sæta.” Peering over the bar you saw Hvitserk give you a wink when he was ducked down and you rolled your eyes, grateful that Sigurd had broken the moment for you. Prodding the blonde Lothbrok in the shoulder, you were satisfied when he flinched and swore.
“Don’t mess with me today, Sigurd.” Finally you finished both sides and stepped back to admire your handy work. “Do you…?”
“No I’m done,” he said as he slipped off the stool.
“I’m next!” Demanded Hvitserk who still hadn’t got dressed. This was going to be a struggle. The others slowly filtered away to get changed and soon you were left alone with him. His hazel eyes looked around as you tilted his head to the side. You jolted slightly when he slipped a hand down your legs, digging his fingertips into your thigh and you inhaled sharply before slapping him with the flat of the comb.
“Ouch, kærasta!”
“Don’t distract me!” You whispered.
“I can’t help myself.” His leg jigged in irritation and he crossed his arms across his chest. “I just want to tell everyone how I feel. How we feel.”
“I know. Soon, ok?” You breathed, combing half of his hair out of the way. “Let Björn and Kat have their day.”
“But then we’re…” he trailed off as Ivar thumped into view.
“Oh wow look at you!” It spilled from you a little too brightly but he did look amazing. Kat had picked out black suits with a deep red waistcoat under the jacket, over a black shirt. Without thinking you stepped around Hvitserk and reached to adjust Ivar’s collar. He tipped his head forward and you slipped your fingers round, smoothing it all down only to be struck by how sad his gaze was when it locked with yours. “You ok?”
“Are you finishing my hair? I want to get ready.” You looked over your shoulder to glower at Hvitserk but he just bit his bottom lip as he watched you and Ivar. His leg was still going and his arms tightened slightly across his chest, bunching up his muscles.
“Shut up, Hvitserk,” Ivar snapped.
“Make me. Brother.”
“Oh children! Do I have to give you two the same threat I gave Ivar and Sigurd? No fucking fighting!” You made a point of glaring at Hvitserk but he avoided your gaze, his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Seems someone is the common denominator there,” muttered Hvitserk and you cracked him on the shoulder. The slap sounded worse than it was but he still flinched, you had no doubt Ivar was looking smug behind you.
“Pack it in. Now let me finish your hair and I’ll gush over how handsome you look too, Mr What About Me.” Not much else was said as you swiftly braided Hvitserk’s hair, his arms not shifting from his defensive position.
You gave each brother the same attention you’d given Ivar, except Björn. When you saw him you nearly sobbed, letting him drag you into an all encompassing bear hug before he sent you packing back to the girls.
You took a moment before you left, watching them preening amongst themselves as Ubbe poured some mead for them all. You went to leave when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“You’ve got time,” muttered Björn, holding out a glass for you.
“Surely this is a brother thing,” you assumed.
“It’s a family thing,” Ubbe spoke up. Dumping your bag beside the sofa you reluctantly took the glass, Björn wrapping his arm around and pulling you into him.
“Who’d have thought I’d be the first one to get married,” he started and you all scoffed in amusement.
“You’re the only one in a steady enough relationship,” Ivar pointed out. “I���d say it was pretty obvious.” Hvitserk groaned and nudged his brother as you glared at him from under Björn’s embrace.
“To our oldest brother,” Ubbe raised his glass and looked around the group. “May he pave the way for the rest of us.”
“Here, here!” You cheered, knocking your glass into the rest and you all chugged the mead quickly. You gave up after a few gulps knowing there was wine waiting for you. “Don’t spill any!” You cried as they tipped their heads back, Hvitserk gasping in satisfaction when he finished first, a proud smile splitting his face.
“Still the fastest chugger,” he announced.
“That’s what she said,” muttered Sigurd and they all descended into snorts of laughter.
“I’ve got to go! Have fun boys, for the love of the gods don’t drink much more! Don’t mark your suits and be on fucking time!” You stressed urgently.
“Don’t worry astvinur,” Ubbe said as he wrapped an arm around Björn and gestured with the hand still clutching his glass tankard. “After you I’m the most sensible one here.” You smiled, shaking your head and made your way to the door.
“Hey!” You paused, watching Hvitserk approach, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you looked him over, appreciating his suit. “Checking me out, huh sæta?”
“Maybe,” you admitted quietly.
“I can’t wait to see you in your dress.” As he spoke he leaned against the half shut door, his fingers curling over yours and his hazel eyes dragging up and down your form. He sucked in his bottom lip, such a simple motion had such a devastating effect on you it was all you could do to keep your composure.
“Kiss me,” you whispered boldly. His gaze flared, followed by a swift cocky upturn to his lips before he was snatching the breath from your body.
“I don’t want to stop…” he mumbled against your mouth, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face and you groaned. Coming to your senses, you pushed him away. Gently touching your lips as you adjusted the bag strap on your shoulder.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Not soon enough,” he grumbled good naturedly. The door didn’t close and you knew he was watching you walk away so you sashayed before breaking down in giggles. The door finally closed and you sighed, thinking he’d gone but instead he grabbed your arm and spun you round just as you turned the corner in the corridor. Both hands came up to cradle your face as he gave you a deep, needy kiss which made your head spin. Your lungs ached because you forgot to breathe and the butterflies in your stomach started doing somersaults.
“Go now or I’ll never let you leave,” he groaned. Biting your lip you smiled.
“I’m going.”
“Hvitserk? You out here?” Ubbe shouted into the hallway.
“Shit, yeah I’m coming!” He called, sauntering round the corner and you leaned against the wall, fanning yourself. You had to get a grip but today was going to be so terribly difficult.
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You left the main hotel building, walking purposely back towards the Bride’s cottage that you’d left everyone else in. Music was going, Lagertha was pouring wine and she cheered loudly when you entered. Kat was sitting at the dresser having her makeup done, Alex was dancing with Hali, making the boy throw his head back with laughter.
Before you’d even put your bag down, you were almost knocked over by Asa as she wrapped her little arms around you.
“How is frændi Hvitserk?” She whispered. Her eyes were wide and you got down on her level. Ever since they’d been told about Hvitserk and his “illness,” she had made all these scenarios up in her mind and you were the only one who could put her mind at ease.
“I’ve just seen him,” you whispered. “And he told me, he cannot wait to see his very favourite frænka.” You let her digest that information for a moment and she rewarded you with a beaming smile.
“He did?” She gasped. “Will he look at my pretty dress?” She stepped back and did a twirl in the rich red dress that matched the brothers. The layers flared out creating such a beautiful image for the briefest of moments you almost felt broody. She was gorgeous, and one of your favourite people on this planet. When she stopped you straightened her straps, gently brushing her hair off her shoulder and gave her a smile.
“He is going to love your dress. Shall I get in mine?” Without a word she grabbed your hand, barely giving you time to wave at Kat who was beginning to look nervous before you were dragged into the other room.
She chatted to you the whole time, bringing you up to speed on Torvi who you’d just missed; her little legs swinging on the chair while she waited for you to reappear. The dress was perfect, long floaty material that hid all the sins of your body and a matching shade to Asa’s. The sleeves were off the shoulder, leaving straps to hold it up, blooms of lace plunging down, but not indecently. Thankfully Kat had also got you all some white faux fur pashminas to cover your shoulders. Already you knew though, some dancing, some shots and you wouldn't be feeling the cold anymore.
You joined the others, Asa letting go of your hand and running to join Lagertha on the sofa while she watched you all get ready. Kat was standing nervously to the side and you scowled at her.
“Stop chewing!” You scolded softly.
“I know but I’m so nervous!” She breathed. “How did he seem?” You sat in the chair and let the makeup artist start on you.
“Björn is stupidly excited,” you nearly made a joke about them celebrating so hard they might be late; but from the look of her that would be a very ill timed joke. “They’re all so happy for him.”
“No horror stories from last night?”
“Nope. They got drunk, probably danced until Ivar ruined their fun…haven’t you got a dress to put on?” You asked, making her jump up. Luckily Lagertha and Asa distracted Kat and disappeared with her to get changed.
Finally you were all done, standing there with your beautiful flowers, make up and hair done and a sense of anticipation filled the cottage when Lagertha asked if you were all ready to see.
She opened the doors and a collective gasp spilled from you and Alex as Kat stepped into the room.
Her dress was exquisite, the top half made of lined lace, hugging her body and covering her arms in patterns of flowers and leaves. The middle band was a matching shade of red, gems glinting in the light when she moved, the skirt of her dress flowing elegantly round her legs.
“Well?” She squeaked. You were lost for words, tears threatening to ruin all the hard work of the makeup artist so when Hali stepped forward first you let out a little shaky breath.
“I think you look beautiful,” he said earnestly. “Can I walk you down the aisle?” Alex blew out a breath and you knew she was trying not to cry as much as you were.
“Yes, Hali. Of course you can.” You all fussed around the bride, adjusting her veil and laying out the train of her dress before lining up.
They were getting married just behind the cottage to a backdrop of mountains and snow and then the wedding party would move to the marquee to eat and dance. This wedding had been pulled together quickly but it had all slotted into place perfectly and you were bursting with pride that your biggest brother bear was finally getting married.
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Björn wasn’t late. All the brothers were stood at the altar, looking impeccable but your gaze softened at the sight of Hvitserk. Imagining this is what it would be like to get married to him. Marriage was not something you’d really put a lot of thought into but now you had that…that someone. This desire was foreign and you weren’t entirely sure what to do with it. Concentrating on the ceremony you hoped your thoughts would clear but your gaze kept wandering to Hvitserk, only to find him returning the focussed look.
The pair of you almost missed the end of the ceremony, the kiss, the cheers. Following the newly married couple into the marquee you were momentarily distracted by Asa as she dragged you round pointing out the decorations and the buffet that was being laid out. Eventually you made it to the bar, immediately asking for a gin and guzzling it harder than you should.
“Thirsty?” You let out a moan into your glass, you didn’t need this right now. Not when he looked for fucking good in that suit.
“Go away Hvitserk,” you whispered, flinching when he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your entire body tensed but he let out a soothing “ssssh,” into your ear.
“Relax, sæta. No one suspects a thing.”
“I just don’t want to ruin their moment.” You whispered. He ordered a drink from over your shoulder, pressing in behind and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep your thoughts to yourself. Hvitserk leaned on the bar beside you, nursing his drink but keeping contact with you even when other people came and spoke to you both. When the rush cleared you two found yourselves alone at the end of the bar, observing everyone enjoying themselves.
“I want you,” he murmured in your ear just as the DJ stepped up to play some music while people ate. Your entire body felt like it was electrified, the hairs on your arms standing on end as his words spawned a desire deep in your belly. You pressed your back into him, each movement just giving him a hint of friction on the growing bulge in his trousers. You smirked at the tiny little breath hitch he gave, his hidden hand grabbing an arse cheek hard enough to make you jump. “Don’t tease me,” he growled.
“Why not? You do it to me all the time.” You casually finished your drink, stepping back a little to bump into him harder and he swore under his breath, fingers grabbing your hip to hold you in place.
“Bathroom. Now.” Protests died in your throat as the pair of you scanned the crowd before quickly diving into the door to your left. He barged you through the doors and thankfully the place was empty. His lips were insistent, his fingers commanding with the way they held your throat. Molten heat pooled between your legs and you wanted nothing more than to have him here, right now.
“We shouldn’t!” You giggled as Hvitserk kissed his way up your throat and the side of your face.
“But the dress,” he groaned. “You in that dress is driving me wild. Do you know how difficult it is for me to keep my expression blank so Ubbe doesn’t figure us out?”
“Just call me litla…”
“Don’t ruin the moment for me!” He huffed, forcing his lips to cover yours and stop you talking. You eased yourself up onto the counter, legs spread so he could wedge himself between them. His hand held your face, a simple motion you had missed these past few days. The kiss tossed back and forth between you, both of you fighting for dominance and a small giggle left you at the idea of doing this in a bathroom at your friend's wedding. “I missed you!” He whispered and you moaned softly as his hand slipped under the folds of floaty material. His breath hitched when he felt your lace underwear and you smirked over his shoulder. He kissed you again, almost cracking your head on the tiles, he was so desperate to taste your lips. “Sæta, I need you…”
“We can’t,” you breathed. But already your hips were lifting off the counter as he slipped your underwear down your thighs. Your arms curled round his neck, holding him close and inhaling everything that made him so ultimately Hvitserk. You heard his belt go, the buckle clanking on the surface as he slipped his trousers down. You planted your foot against the hand dryer on the wall as Hvitserk reached to hook his hand over the top of the mirror behind you. You were both so desperate you knew no foreplay was needed. Spitting on his hand, Hvitserk wiped it quickly on his flushed cock and you wriggled on the counter in anticipation. His other hand hooked around your waist and hauled you to the edge, notching his cock at your entrance and both of you groaned in unison at the sensation.
With a firm thrust he entered you fully, his hazel eyes watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. His own face screwing up in concentration, knowing the pair of you could be discovered at any moment. He rocked your body, desperate to reach that point that neither of you could back from. His entire body was tense, his lips trailing over your neck as you leaned back into the support of his arm. He found a steady rhythm, all the while you tried to keep listening out for the door but you were soon drowning in the noise of the gasps and moans that filled the bathroom.
His hands came back to your body, clutching you to him as he throbbed inside you, filling and stretching your cunt at this angle. His mouth was open, his eyes glassy and hooded which told you he was close. His gasps increased, mingled with your own; they echoed loudly against the tiles.
“Hvitserk, I’m gonna…” your voice was breathy and it seemed to spur him on to increase the tempo. Your mouth found his, feeding off his desire, tasting his neediness and it brought you so close to the brink.
“Guð, þú ert svo kynþokkafullur,” he gasped against your cheek just as you cunt clamped around him. Burying your face into him, you hoped he would absorb the loud cries that threatened to echo out of the bathroom. The rippling sensation of your orgasm had him rutting forcefully into you as he found his own release. His fingers tangled almost painfully in your braids, his form trembling against yours as he worked you both through the remaining waves of pleasure that weaved between you.
Catching your breath you let him kiss the soft, tender spot under your ear, his hips flexing into you once more as he cupped your face.
The squeak of the outer door had you shoving him away and he quickly disappeared into a stall to redress, still having time to chuck you a devilish smirk before you grabbed your underwear off the floor just as the door opened and Kat and Alex strode in.
“There you are!” Cried Kat.
“Why does it smell like sex in here?” Alex asked with a rise of her eyebrow.
“I have no idea,” you forced out. “Maybe people were in here before me.” Looking in the mirror you saw you were a mess, lipstick was smeared across your lips and you quickly worked on sorting it out, keeping your legs crossed and hoping you could dive into a stall soon.
“Whatever. I have a crisis!” You dared to glance at the door Hvitserk was hiding behind and quickly tried to figure out how you were going to get them out of here.
“Shall we do this at the bar. With shots?” You suggested but Kat leaned on the counter.
“No alcohol.” Both you and Alex glanced at each other over her hunched form.
“Why?” Alex asked.
“I think I’m pregnant,” whispered Kat. All of you turned at once as Hvitserk burst from the stall, excitement lighting up his face and you died a little inside but thankfully his trousers were done up.
“What the hell Hvitserk?!” You cried trying to act surprised.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” smirked Alex. Kat just gazed at him with wide imploring eyes.
“This is the ladies!” She cried but then waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “You can’t tell him, Hvitserk! Promise me!”
“I won’t say a word,” he grinned before grabbing her in a bear-like hug, his bright eyes slowly wandering to you and you smiled tentatively. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He released Kat and to your surprise he slipped an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, lingering for just a second longer than he needed to. You coughed slightly hoping the desire in your body wasn’t there for everyone to see. He made a fuss of kissing Kat and then Alex before his gaze turned back to you with all unspoken promises and he disappeared from view.
“Well that needs some explaining. His shirt was untucked,” Alex pointed out but Kat deflected the comment.
“Her and Hvitserk are together all the time, they’re like twins,” she murmured. “He probably freaked when he heard us because this is the girls bathroom.” You nodded but you could see Alex wasn’t buying what Kat was saying, her gaze was unforgiving and you almost buckled under the weight of it.
“So. Have you done a test?” You asked, hoping to put the attention back on Kat.
“That’s what we’re here to do,” announced Alex. You and Kat stared at her as she delved into her bag and pulled out a box.
“You just walk around with them in your bag?” You asked incredulously but all she did was shrug as Kat fell on the box. Gathering her dress she disappeared into a stall.
“So,” started Alex. She pinned you with a knowing look and you shifted uncomfortably. “Hvitserk.”
“Is my best friend,” you stated.
“I’m not accepting that he’s just a friend.”
“He’s had a difficult time and I’ve been helping him through it these last 6 months.” You avoided her gaze, it wasn’t a total lie. You had been helping him through everything and he was doing great. The pair of you were also in a full blown relationship underneath everyone’s nose, wanting to see if it worked before you told anyone else. It quickly became evident that it was working and you both decided to keep it under wraps until after the wedding.
Thankfully her attention was redirected when Kat flushed the toilet. She looked a little pale when she placed the test on top of the box, face down.
“Now we wait.”
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Everyone was dancing in the marquee. The music was loud and jaunty, Ubbe grabbed you for a twirl as you walked past, your red dress fluttering around your legs. Laughter and happy conversation drifted on the notes of the song and you found your spirits lifted, a smile permanently on your face. This was everything you had dreamed for Kat and Björn and you were so happy they had finally taken the last step.
You paused, watching Kat and Björn in the middle of the dance floor sharing a private moment in the whirlwind of their day. Most of the guests were up and dancing, except Ivar. You came to a stop beside him, hoping he’d say something. It had been strained between you these past few months but most of your effort has gone into hiding your relationship with Hvitserk.
“Are you having a good time?” You asked, glancing at him and seeing how relaxed he was.
“It is a party and a feast. What isn’t there to like?”
“Are you happy for Björn?” He sipped his drink, rubbing his hand over his mouth when he was finished and pointing at Kat.
“She is the best of his choices.”
“Yes she is,” you agreed with a soft smile. “She has changed him and made him grow up.”
“How is it living with my brother?” Ivar asked with a smirk. “Because out of all of us, he is the messiest.”
“Yes he is,” you said with warm affection. “But his hours are long and it gives me time to pick up after him and work.” Sipping your glass of champagne you watched Hvitserk on the opposite of the dance floor, he was talking to Halfdan. His hands animated as he described something and you smiled to yourself. Sure you had bad days and this whole week had been an ultimate test for him; what with being away from you for a few days and around the most alcohol he’d had in months. But he’d done it. He was doing it. And you felt your heart swell with pride.
“I do think I could have handled it better.” Turning slightly you looked at Ivar who was staring into the pits of his glass. His expression was pensive, sadness shone in the depths of his exquisite blue irises and your throat ran dry all of a sudden.
“Handled, what better?”
“You. Us—this.”
“I don’t….”
“I need to finish.” He didn’t sound angry, but his features were dragged down, his teeth appearing for a second as he desperately tried to express himself. His eyes looked all around until they finally settled on you making your heart stutter for a brief moment. “I knew. Long before you and Hvitserk, I knew. I could see it and still I let myself…want you.” The splinters that had long repaired began to seep, the gentle shift of your heart started the age old ache that you carried around with you, buried deep inside. “I let myself feel and then—well, I tried.”
“So did I, Ivar. But you didn’t let me be yours.” He shrugged, his leg shuffling into better position.
“And then Hvitserk,” he continued. “I saw your face at the hospital and I knew at that moment you’d never be fully mine. Even though I hoped... Even Sigurd tried and didn’t get anywhere.”
“W-what?” Now he smirked, covering the pain in his face at your shock.
“It’s why he created a scene at the lodge. You all forget, I observe everything.”
“But you knew?!”
“Of course I knew,” he replied, scrunching up his nose. Scoffing in disbelief you drained your glass.
“What do we do now?” You asked quietly as the pair of you stood shoulder to shoulder, watching your family and friends with smiles lighting their faces. The happiness that filled this wedding was something you hadn’t felt in such a long time and even now it was tinged with a greyness you couldn’t put a name to.
“You carry on. You are exactly what Hvitserk needed, still needs. You were always his.” You glanced at the youngest Lothbrok, tears welling in your eyes as your mind ran through what could have been.
“Maybe in another life,” you murmured.
“One where I learn to love what’s good for me.” On a whim, you leaned in close and he turned to you in surprise. His eyes softened as your scent wrapped around him and he breathed deeply. Boldly you placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. You felt him lean into you, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, your shed tears resting on his skin.
“I’m sorry, Ivar,” you whispered. He nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat as his fingers dug into you. One last contact before you were gone for good. Without looking back at him you left. Abandoning your glass on an empty table as the sobs rose up inside you. Maybe if he’d tried harder you’d have stayed. But it was all ifs, buts and maybes.
It was dark in the garden, the light of the braziers only stretched so far and you needed a moment. Tears slid down your face, knowing you still had to talk to Björn and Ubbe. It had been difficult with Ivar, more than you were anticipating. Your old feelings had surfaced, because you had let yourself want him. You had let yourself hope. The love for him was still there but it was edged with pain. You knew why he had pushed you away in the end, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“What are you doing?” Whirling around you held in a scream, your heart leaping in fear but it was only Sigurd.
“What is it with you Lothbroks scaring the shit out of me?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes and hoping he didn’t notice.
“Sorry,” he replied, giving you a toothy grin that said anything but.
“In answer to your question, I was just taking a moment.”
“To cry.”
“No…” he grabbed at your arm and forced you to face him. You went to push him off but he gently swiped a stray tear off your chin.
“I saw you talking to Ivar.”
“He didn’t do this to me.”
“He doesn’t have to do anything to make someone cry,” he stated and you huffed out a laugh. “There, that’s the smile,” he murmured.
“You didn’t come out here to make me smile, Sigurd.”
“Rumbled.” He released you but stayed beside you, resting against a tree, his curly hair cascaded over his shoulders as he glanced back at the wedding. “I wanted to thank you.”
“Me? You barely let me touch your hair.”
“No, not for that. For Hvitserk.”
“Hv-Hvitserk?” You stuttered.
“None of us could have brought him back from the edge like you have. You are special to him.” You rubbed your hands up your bare arms looking away from him as he spoke because you knew your face would give you away. “More than he lets on.”
“I’m just his friend,” you lied quietly and Sigurd laughed in quiet disbelief.
“We all have eyes, krúttið mitt.”
“Not you an’ all,” you muttered. He placed a hand on your shoulder, drawing you into his warm body and you went easily. Slipping your hands under his suit jacket and snuggling close into his body.
“Ivar knows. He knew.” You felt Sigurd tense against you followed by a quick draw of breath as he attempted a nonchalant shrug.
“Doesn’t matter now anyway,” mumbled Sigurd and you nodded.
“I might turn in.” Leaving his embrace you let him catch you round the waist. His mismatched green eyes glinted in the firelight as they searched your features.
“Goodbye, krúttið mitt.” The phrase held more weight than normal and you both knew it.
“Bye, Sigurd.” His fingers trailed over your hip as you moved away. His gaze followed you until you’d disappeared into the crowd.
You were caught up in the swirl of warmth and happiness, joy spilled over and tried to light your soul as you weaved your way across the dance floor. Ubbe clutched your hand, pulling you from the throng and over to the bar with Björn following. He embraced you with one of those bear hugs you adored so much. It was getting harder and harder to keep yourself from falling apart as you stared at the boys who had been your older brothers and protectors for most of your life.
“We wanted to talk to you,” Ubbe started.
“Oh yeah. What have I done now?”
“It’s Hvitserk,” stated Björn and you felt your smile faltering as your gaze drifted between two very different sets of blue eyes.
“Oh?”
“I don’t know what you did ástvinur,” Ubbe leaned on his elbows against the bar, facing the gathering. “But I haven’t seen Hvitserk smile like that in months.”
“He has done amazingly,” you said lightly.
“Bjarnarungi,” Björn whispered a name you hadn’t heard in such a long time and you almost sobbed it all out to them there and then. “Does he make you happy?” As you stared up at Björn, Ubbe leaned in closer.
“Because you make him happy.”
“Guys…we were going to wait until after the wedding before we said anything!” Ubbe let out a noise of satisfaction as Björn slammed his hand firmly onto the wooden surface of the bar.
“I knew it!” He exclaimed loudly. The pair of them reached for you at the same time and you felt the heat of your emotion as it crept down your face. Holding tightly onto their arms you sobbed quietly, wanting to remember this moment forever.
“My turn!” More hands snaked round you and the others shifted to make room for Hvitserk pressed in behind you. His face burying into your neck, the tickle of his breath catching your behind the ear.
“Group hug!” Shouted Sigurd as he barrelled into you all, nearly making the group fall over and you let out a breathless giggle.
“Ivar!” Ubbe shouted and you wondered if he’d join in. Turning in the tight hug you felt Hvitserk move to the side and Ivar appeared. All of you created a circle, linking arms as you all peered inward, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. Wedged between Ivar and Björn with Hvitserk opposite you couldn’t help but get caught up in the feel of you all together. It probably wouldn’t happen again for a long time.
“No matter what happens,” Björn stated quietly. “We are Lothbroks.”
“Except me!” You piped up making Ubbe cough slightly and Sigurd rolled his eyes in a good natured way.
“Right now,” Björn continued. “I need to give my wife her present! Litla systir…” he prised you from the tangle of the others and walked you to the edge of the dance floor. “Find Floki, tell him it’s time.” You nodded, for once completely in the dark about what he was going to do. You found Floki talking with Lagertha who beamed as you approached, embracing you gently and rubbing your arm.
“Litla hrafn.” You went willingly into Floki’s waiting embrace breathing him in deeply before looking up at him.
“Björn said it's time.” He excused himself from Lagertha and still with his arm around you, steered you out of the marquee. “Where are we going?”
“Björn got Kat a…” he giggled, his entire face lighting up at the irony. “A köttur. He got Kat, a cat.” You frowned, seeing he’d brought you to the car park where his van was. Unlocking the camper he ushered you inside.
“Floki, it’s warm in here. Are we going to collect it?” There was no evidence of a cat in the living area of the camper.
“In here,” he gestured to you and opened the door to his bedroom. Clasping your hands together you let out a high pitched squeal, whispering how adorable the kitten was as it padded towards you across Floki’s bed, fluffy tail raised and little mewling cries spewed from it. “I’ve been coming to check on her every hour,” he assured you. “Komið svo litli kettlingur.” He scooped her up and held her close, whispering words of endearment as he carefully put her in the carrier.
“We can’t go with you.” The words fell from you before you’d even really thought about it and Floki looked at you, no judgement in his eyes as he waited for you to finish. “Hvitserk would do it, for me. But I can’t ask that of him.” Floki nodded and pulled you down to sit on the covers, his hands smothering yours lovingly.
“I’m glad you saw it yourself. You are more in tune with him than you even realise. Dóttir…”
“I’m sorry. I did really want to come with you to travel but I don’t think—just not now.” The disappointment was evident on your face but the pain of ripping Hvitserk from people he loved the most was something you couldn’t do. He was doing so well, firmly back to the Hvitserk you’d known all your life, he was working, living… At the time he’d agreed and said it would do him good, because he’d do anything for you. “We’ll visit,” you whispered, squeezing Floki’s fingers.
“I’d like that.” Hitching up a smile you gestured to the kitten purring loudly from the carrier as she rubbed against the side.
“We should get her inside. She’s the second main event after all.” Floki chuckled and nodded in agreement.
The marquee was still heaving with the celebrations but you and Floki headed to the cottage just set amongst some trees. It was where you and others had got ready. Your stuff would have been moved from the cottage and put in your rooms in the main building but you couldn’t resist flirting about and straightening things up. Moving the champagne to beside the bed, spreading out the rose petals a bit more and moving the suitcases so they weren’t in the way. As you drew out the hanger for Kat’s dress the main door opened and they spilled in fresh from the dance floor, all giggles and rosy faces. Kat saw you first and threw her arms around you.
“I’m gonna tell him,” she whispered and you hugged her back tightly. “It feels right.”
“It does,” you breathed back.
“Eiginkonu.” You turned Kat around and pushed her towards Björn. “I have a gift for you.” She nearly screamed, hands over her mouth as she danced on the spot while Floki carefully extracted the kitten.
“Oh my gods, she is gorgeous!!” Kat exclaimed and tears began to well in her eyes as the kitten snuggled in her arms. “Oh Björn!”
“Faðir.” You helped the door open just in time to hear your friend say she had something to tell Björn before you closed it, leaving them to their bliss.
“So the others know about me and Hvitserk.”
“Yes, I know, litla hrafn. I think you and Hvitserk were the last ones to know.”
“That just makes me feel stupid,” you moaned but Floki shook his head.
“You needed the time to come to the realisation yourselves or it never would have worked.” He paused at the entrance, the flashing lights dancing over his form and you felt that telltale sinking feeling in your gut.
“You’re going to leave now.”
“I am, Dóttir.”
“It never gets any easier,” you sniffled. Floki drew you in, rubbing circles on your back as he comforted you, murmuring all the while about how much he loved and missed you but he just couldn’t stay in one place. After a few minutes he turned you round and deposited you in a pair of arms you knew so well. Burying yourself into his chest as the emotions took over. You felt happy because today had been amazing but at the same time you felt sad and confused about changing your plans last minute.
Hvitserk spoke to Floki as he held you, his voice rumbling through his chest but you didn’t want to listen to what was being said, only noticing the way Floki’s touch left your shoulder and you knew he’d gone. You were barely aware of being led inside the main building, Hvitserk guiding you into the quiet of a dark room and making you lay down with him.
He cradled you close, letting you wring yourself dry until drowsiness took over. He brushed the hair out of your now peaceful face. He knew what pressure you’d been under with work, looking after him and helping him slowly get back into work. He owed you everything, his entire life if he was honest. He couldn’t imagine never seeing your face again or hearing your voice, experiencing your touch and all of that kept him here. It tethered him, grounded him to keep fighting and never give into those urges again.
As he rocked you gently he fished around in his pocket and drew out a small box. Flicking the lid open he held it up to the lamp light, admiring the way the light fractured on the facets of the diamond he had purchased for you. Ravens of white gold held the gem, wings spread to join onto the band that would one day sit on your finger. He wanted nothing more than to give it to you but it never felt right. Snapping the box closed he buried it once more in his pocket, snuggling down with you and telling himself the time would come soon.
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imeanwhynotbruv · 1 year
Text
Crossover problems 😭
Parent Evan “Buck” Buckley will break me!!
If you read my stuff you probably know I like doing alternate universes and crossovers.
But now I have the problem that every time I start a crossover I want to make another and half the time the universes don’t make sense 😭.
For example I have a GoT and Vikings crossover, that kind of makes sense bc like similar time setting, similar outfits…right?..right.
But when I was doing that I realised I wanted a crossover between Vikings and 9-1-1……I don’t even know.
I decided I wanted buck to have adopted a modern Hvitserk Sigurd and Ivar years ago but not told anyone bc he was estranged from his family.
(They were abandoned by their mother & for some reason they couldn’t find any of their family (+Ubbe & Bjorn are much older than them))
Then they lived in Denmark because he wanted the boys to grow up with their culture before he moved to LA and became a fighter when they were teens.
The 118 still think he’s a man whore but in reality he’s just always going home to see his boys.
Buck doesn’t tell them about his kids at first because he doesn’t know it he can trust them and doesn’t want to put his kids through that, but then it gets too late and would become awkward to just be like “hey btw I have like 3 sons”
Buck talks a bit about how he would parent in situations but the team just think he’s talking about the future.
Idk why but I love it 😭 like they go to Denmark every year on holiday and they celebrate the day they were officially adopted as a family holiday.
Buck is very protective but also like super chill?
Oooo and buck was so good with Chris bc he already had practice with Ivar?
I also love the idea of Ivar being picked on and school, getting into a fight, then haveing to have buck & Eddie called to the principals office only for everyone to point how how very in the wrong the other kid was 😫
And Bobby getting to basically be a grandfather to the boys?! My heart!❤️❤️
Abuela would totally just accept them too!!
Also I feel like the 118 would find out totally by accident? Or many buck didn’t quite realise they hadn’t figured it out so he’s so confused and their confusion when they meet his boys 😂
Omg and the Buckley parents didn’t know 😱
Crossovers will be the death of me Istg
(For people waiting for my other stuff to update! I haven’t forgotten I just want to make sure they’re good before I post them & I’ve been super busy lately 😭)
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jadelynlace · 1 year
Text
Ink Drinker⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 14
series master post is here.
synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.
pairing: Modern Ivar x F!Reader
***author’s note: I am...just so very sorry (not sorry) for this chapter. But let me remind you, if we can survive chapter five, we can get through this, too! Maybe. The divider is by @firefly-graphics​ (Damn, it feels good to write again.)
word count: 1600+ words
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You made a promise. You took an oath. No man is left behind. And every day, every time the tones sing, those words ring in your mind. Teasing you, poking you, solely to remind you that if today is not the day you need to practice them. Tomorrow might be.
But today is.
Hues of orange, canary yellow, dance through your vision and your mind. Deafening under the gear, the smoldering and constant check of your oxygen supply. Now it’s all black—a total eclipse and you’d likely see more with your eyes closed. It’s a mental silence like no other, moving the motions through the burning structure as you scan and rescan every room and every last movement, trying to decipher if the ash is from the wood, or the burnt skin of a human. If what you grab is a bedpost, or a limb.
Adrenaline pumps through your ears and you’re crawling through soot as you grow warm from the fueled rush. Beads of sweat under the mask and you’re imagining the cold pool at Floki’s house, where you’ll dive into once your shift is over. Once the fire is out and you’re safely back at the station. But despite the pleasantry in your mind you’re still clearing the rooms, mumbling behind the gear and trying to sing a steady beat of the first song that comes to your head for strength. Structure fires were never the highlight of your career.
Moving again you hear more nonsense on your radio, too many jurisdictions on the same scene all screaming where there is no incident command yet established—even though you and your team were the first crews on scene, the area should be yours to orchestrate, but it's not. Even through all of the protocols, endlessly memorized in your head, they mean nothing in the chaos. You remind yourself: knee, knee, one hand to support, one hand to swing your halligan bar.
Cracklings start beneath the heaviness of the boots and there’s a loud bang that echoes through your head, but the thought of if it's external or internal causes even more pain before you’re through a rush of air and falling. And everything becomes darker.
You roll; out of pure instinct, you roll to your left and under the smoke you're met by an obstacle. Before you can swing your axe towards it, your hand finds another hand and the pounding in your head increases. Slowly, you reach, finding the size of the palm to rival yours and its familiar—it’s large like Ivar’s. Despite the heat, the flames, the adrenaline, you go cold. It’s not Ivar’s palm that’s attached to the unconscious body next to you. Logically, you know that. It’s Hvitserk’s.
“Y/L/N to fire control, we have a mayday—repeat, firefighter down. Firefighter down,” You all but scream. That oath sings to you suddenly.
There’s no time, you try to tell yourself. There’s no time and you hear a call of sirens start outside. Blowing through the city as everyone’s blood runs cold from your signal. On all fours you bend, you pull Hvitserk towards you, with you, and curse his size.
“Why are you so fucking tall?” You hiss to yourself as you’re pulling his arm—pulling as you crawl and tears start in your eyes. This isn’t how you imagined it.
Hvitserk is meant to grow old with Thora, after taking a culinary tour of the world in his retirement. He’s meant to be chasing the children he would have; the grandchildren he would have. He’s meant to pass his knowledge on to the next group of recruits. He’s meant to be there with Ivar, with you, through thick and thin. He’s meant to fight Aiden for the best man spot at the wedding. He’s not meant to perish in the job that keeps him whole. He still owes you for last week’s lunch. He’d be furious if you let him go to the grave with a debt.
When you’re clear of the smoke, clear of the flames, you stand. You stand so quickly you could break concrete with the force of your helmet. Hvitserk is over your back and you start—putting all your weight on to your thighs as the pledge sings in your head.
Daylight comes back and the entire crew sees you carry the man out, twice—three times your size but he’s there splayed over your back. Time slows as you walk from the smoldering structure; as one boot stomps after the other. Your arm’s twisted, pulling on whatever part of Hvitserk you can as you steady him. As you carry him to safety. As you prove to every single last person who doubted you in this career.
Then, suddenly you drop. Your knees buckle and you meet the concrete before you roll, leaving him. You scramble, pulling layers off, his mask off and tossing it away with yours. Gear, covers, shields, battle armor and you scream:
“He’s not breathing!”
Tearing through his gear you pull at shirt’s buttons, a rush of adrenaline seizing your insides and you should be waiting for the proper tools. Take off your damn gloves. But there’s no time now. You’re racing against the clock—against the science of the human body because you know how precious each second is. The only thing you hear, the only sound that registers is the metal of his badge clattering against the hot assault. The others gather, pulling equipment from the first in bag: oxygen tubing, AED pads, and the sun catches the metal of the laryngoscope.
Out of instinct your hands push, fingers curling and you start compressions even as you’re directed to wait, as your chief tries to pull you away because you’re hurt too. You just can’t feel it yet. Blood leaks from a gash somewhere on your head but your hands don’t stop. They don’t stop as you beg, as you pull your arms away from your boss’s grip again while pleading with the Gods—any one who will listen. Not to take Hvitserk. Not here, not now. Not like this. How would you even tell Ivar?
You look at his lifeless body as you continue the steady beat, counting through tears as you perform CPR on the one person you never, ever wanted to perform it on. But you do.
Because you took an oath. And today is the day you practice it.
*
Ivar bursts through the emergency room doors, strength nearly flinging them off of the wall and in his worry, his face has morphed to the scowl he perfected for a past life. Instead of mumbling to the front desk, he sees you over on the far wall, sitting on the ground, four by four gauze pad tapped to your forehead. You’re staring blankly at your boots.
“What happened?” Ivar asks quickly, words strung out in one breath and you don’t even look up. Only then does he notice Hvitserk’s badge in your hands. “Baby, what happened?” Ivar tries again and he sinks to your level. His legs tell him to move differently, to move much more slowly to meet the tile. Not this quick rush that’ll leave bruises in a few hour’s time.
“Y/N,” Ivar says sternly. “Where’s my brother?”
Those words pull you back, they suck you out of the smoke, out of the soot and the ash, the flames that danced around where you crawled. They take the sweat from your brow, they stop you agonizing over every move. Every motion. If you had just been faster.
No matter how hard you would try, you always went over every call. Every detail. You remember the first person who passed in your care; you remember when you had to call your first cardiac arrest. When medical control gave you the go, and you had to look an old woman in the eyes to tell her. You caught her as she sobbed over her husband of nearly fifty years. You remember the first infant. You can’t save them all. Everyone says that; those words have become meaningless. They crush with nothingness; they don’t soothe like they should. Because even if you can’t save them all, damn it, you think you should. You think you can.
Maybe those words are never meant to soothe? Maybe they’re meant to remind you—the true weight of this job. ‘Your life is worth my time.’ That’s what the company shirts used to say. Maybe they’re there to stop you from being eaten alive by guilt.
You shake your head to Ivar.
“I carried him out,” You finally say. That’s when you break; that’s when the weight of the situation finally comes down on top of you. Not a warm weight, like Ivar offers in the dim morning sun. A weight like none other; raw realization. “I carried him out,” You repeat, “I performed CPR on him. I brought him back,” You peep.
Those words strike Ivar. Without a second thought he’s around you, holding you on the floor as the emergency room bustles around the two of you. But to him, you’re alone. Locked in a tower, just the two of you. He remembers doubting you, once. Almost asking you over the game of vodka-fueled Truth or Dare if you’d slept with his brother. Now he understands just how deep the bond goes between the two of you. Strangers become brothers in a fox hole. Today was no different.
You cry into Ivar’s shirt, cry from the trauma, cry from the overwhelming realization that not only did you drag Hvitserk from the fire. You saved his life. You brought him back so that he can grow old with Thora, so that he can have the culinary travels in retirement. So that he can pay you back for last week’s lunch.
All because you took that oath.
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full masterlist can be found here.
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bjornswoman · 1 year
Text
Lies
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Pairing: Modern!Hvitserk x Fem!Reader.
Genre: Modern!au, series, drama, angst, romance, smut, fluff.
Summary: After your breakup with Hvitserk he leaves for England without knowing about a matter. A child in fact. Years after he comes back, invading your life and all the lies come to the surface.
Warnings: NSFW, smut, strong language, jealousy, mentions of pregnancy, lies, a lot of drama.
Note:
This series are based on a turkish TV series called You Knock on My Door (Sen Çal Kapımı) and it contains some stuff from there.
This is a remake of the first two parts of the same series which I wrote some time ago. You can find the first two parts here.
Also, I want to inform you that the new parts and the next ones will be quite different from the first ones.
Chapters:
Prologue
Part I
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A Taste of Heaven Masterlist *ON HATUS*
Any smut chapters will be marked per Tumblr's community labels, you will need them turned to show to see them.
Contains: Lots of fluff, Smut (oral sex F and M receiving, P in V, CONSENT, food play but not feederism, gentle dom Hvitserk, fingering.) OC is a chronic pain/migraine sufferer, there will be themes of this throughout the story. Rest Your Weary Hands the relationship between the brother will be healthy and loving. Ivar will still have osteogenesis imperfecta. Food, cooking, recipe books, historical food and meals.
Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical 💉Triggering material🚩
Some of the chapters and snippets will be put to music, not listening to the music won't affect the story. Updates will vary, some days I might do two and other times I'll go a week without posting anything, there will be a time where I will open requests for snippets so you as the reader can have a piece of the universe I've cobbled together.
What's a snippet?
A snippet is an optional one-shot that adds context to the story and expands on some small themes that will appear throughout the story, not reading them won't affect the story but it will take away some of the more fluffy and/or mundane 'day in the life' elements.
After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.
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Comment if you want to be tagged.
Prologue❤
Part 1❤
Part 2❤
Part 3😨❤
Part 4 😨🔪❤❤
Part 5❤❤❤❤❤❤💦
Part 6 ❤❤💦
Part 7❤💦💦💦
Part 8 😨❤💦
Part 9 😨❤💦
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istorkyou · 6 months
Text
A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU) New Chapter
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A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)
Note - I think it’s been almost a year since I updated this fic. I’ve decided to post the rest of the fic, despite not being super happy with chapter 11. I wrote the rest of the chapters ages ago but got stuck on chapter 11 so I’ve decided to just Chuck it out here.
Sorry it’s taken me so long, hope those who enjoyed this story before will enjoy the end ❤️ thanks all. This chapter is un-beta’d so all mistakes are mine and I’m sure there will be lots!
Warnings - mentions of violence make against female and female against make, language, weapons, angst
Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?
Word Count - 3828 words
This is for @blackseapearl 400 follower trope challenge. I asked for Amnesia :)
Shout Outs - They know ❤️
This fic kicked (and is still kicking!) my ass, I’ve never had such a hard time with motivation as I have writing this long-ass bitch so I hope you enjoy it :)
It’s also LOOOOOOOONNNGGGGGGGG..... and I’m only the tiniest bit sorry about that!
Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree
Masterpost
Chapter 11
The early days of Ivar and Liet.
Lev insists on an apartment first, keeping some distance and to set up a place he can still see her in. She assumed Ivar would be annoyed but he says it’s a good first step, she doesn’t know for certain but she guesses that The Lothbroks don’t want a stranger in their midst, she will have to be vetted before being allowed into their inner sanctum.
She stays in the apartment for a few months, building a life, in her “new city”, a routine with Ivar visiting. Lev turns up more often than she wants, an invasive reminder that it's all lies and any potential peace found with Ivar is bullshit.
Lev never gets ugly with her again, but her memory is long and she never forgets the violence he exhibited, quashing all feelings she ever had for him.
She was supposed to lead a double life, reporting to her family, faking the relationship with Ivar, in reality, it’s a triple life now, faking to Lev, faking to Ivar despite her feelings of real love for him and reporting back despite her feelings. God, what an absolute mess she’s made. Etta has no choice but to carry on as normal with Lev when she sees him, fucking him as if he’s her guy when her whole being is consumed by her feelings for Ivar.
The ripping of her soul, the lies, the deceit, the acting, almost sends her into an early grave, until Ivar asks her to move onto the estate.
———————-
Word comes from Ivar’s Father. The Lothbrok family have accepted her. Ragnar has dug into her past thoroughly.
———————
Her Father knew this would happen and hired the right people to fabricate her former life, leaving as much of her true life as possible. Dead parents, teacher (at a different school, one where Olegs family had reach with, who he was able to pay off if asked about Julietta). The Lothbroks came back with nothing but a squeaky clean record of her. Nothing about her time spent with her father, nothing about her training or the other ‘missions’ she’d been sent on. Just a wholesome school teacher with friends and a tragic past.
—————
She can see a respite, a pause of her turmoil if she is away from Lev, away from the pressure he is putting on her, the pressure her father is putting on her through Lev. She can breathe easily once she gets there. For a minute.
She knows any peace is temporary.
The day before she is due to move, Lev catches her outside her apartment as she is running errands.
She feels him behind her, an insistent grip on her arm.
“Keep walking, Love. Who knows if we are being followed. Walk to the market.”
Julietta has no choice but to do as he says.
In the market he catches her arm harshly and turns her toward a stand.
“Try on the sunglasses,” he instructs her harshly, so she does. She catches his eye in a mirror, he is standing close to her. “Tomorrow we will be separated, God knows for how long. You know what needs to be done, Etta?”
She nods and picks another pair of glasses up, slipping them on her face.
“I’ve watched you with him, in this very market,” Lev’s voice is saccharine sweet, she’s heard it before and the blood runs cold through her veins. The intrusion into the relationship she thought she’d developed in private was being watched. Of course it was. Stupid girl.
“I’ve seen him kiss you, I’ve seen the way you look at him, Etta.” Etta watches as his pupils constrict in the mirror as his grip tightens on her flesh, sure to leave marks she will have to explain away.
Etta starts to shake her head and pulls away carefully, smiling playfully as she starts to protest but his words stop her.
“My eyes don’t lie. I’ve seen you. Do you not remember my words? If you fall for him I will kill you both. You are mine,” his finger back on her arm, holding so hard she has to bite her lip to stop from yelping. “Mine,” he growls in her ear. “I hope for both your sakes you are a better actress than I give you credit for, Etta.”
Lev leans into her, his nose in her hair and he inhales deeply, eyes never leaving her face for a second. “I would hate to murder you, my love.”
Through the ice in her veins she knows what she must do. A calmness settles over her, knowing her only way out of this encounter is to placate the man she once loved.
She removes the sunglasses and her eyes catch his in the mirror. She leans back into Lev, her upper back pressing against his chest and she pushes her ass into his crotch. Her voice is thick with sweetness when she addresses him. “Baby, I’m the best actress you’ve ever met. You think I have feelings for him? I’m repulsed by him. Every time he touches me it makes me want to vomit. I would kill him and his whole fucking family in a heartbeat to be back with you, my love.”
She sees Lev’s eyes change from hatred to relief and she knows he is putty in her hands again.
“I’m doing this for the family. For you. Just as you told me to. It’s all for you, a means to an end, my love. I’m leaving tomorrow, who knows when I will next get to see you. There's an alley up to the left. Meet me there in two minutes. I need you one more time before I go.” She turns in her heels and heads for the alley.
As she turns left she claps her hand over her mouth, desperately trying to stifle to cry and tears in the minutes she has before he joins her. She takes in some steadying breathes and prepares herself to allow Lev to touch her, fuck her, to betray Ivar with the man that sold her out like she was nothing. A mere commodity.
As she watches Lev enter the alley her skin starts to crawl, but she pushes the feeling away.
She’s let her guard slip with Ivar, she needs to pull herself back again, with more success this time. She curses inwardly at not realising she is being watched the whole time, of course she is, she’s her family's most valuable asset.
She can’t be the reason Ivar dies. She will be the best actress ever. To save herself. To save Ivar.
—————
Julietta is sure that Ivar feels the change in her, in the way she is with him over the next few weeks. Sometimes she can see her detachment break his heart and she wants nothing more than to open herself up again, allow him into her heart fully, but the memory of Lev’s words stops her.
Sometimes she feels herself allowing the feelings to creep back in. It’s easy when it’s just the two of them, living together, a normal life. Somedays, when she’s watching him move around their home, on the phone, smiling at her, she forgets what this all is. Fake. An assignment. Not for long, but long enough for it to crush her heart when she remembers.
Some days she is so angry. Furious at herself for letting her life come to this. Rage filled at her father for making her do this. Devastated at the circumstances that have led her life to this point. Angry that she is in love with a man completely out of her reach, despite being married to him. It’s on these days can hear herself say the most disgusting things, things about his wheelchair, his disability that make her so ashamed of herself she knows that when her time comes they will be the reason she will be dragged straight to the depths of Hell.
He shows her nothing but endless patience. She isn’t sure if that is because he is so in love with her or because she drops enough breadcrumbs of love and affection to keep him hopeful that she will return to the woman he met in Sardinia. Hope. It can hold people prisoner, and that’s what she feels she is doing to him. Keeping him shackled to a memory of the woman she wishes she could be with him, her old self.
Julietta can’t even bare to look at him when they have sex, can’t bare the way his eyes feel on her, like they are going to pull a confession out of her at any moment so she manipulates him again into being intimate in a way she can stomach, a way she can live with herself.
She manages to find an outlet in the form of a diary, written in code. She pours every thought, every feeling, every second of happiness into it so she doesn’t allow it to spill out into their actual lives. So she doesn’t compromise them. If she writes it down the weight of her feelings and the fear that accompany them is lifted slightly.
She’s allowed to the main house after the checks come back clean, before that she had barely any access to it at all which meant she didn’t have much to pass on to Lev when she saw him at the flat. Information is freely available to her now, access to staff, their gossiping, access to Ragnar’s study, although she is careful here until she is sure there are no cameras inside this space. There aren’t, probably so he doesn’t incriminate himself should the time ever come. It does mean she can access paperwork left around, listen in on conversations he has in there. She has yet to plant the listening devices given to her and try to access Ragnar's computer, making up excuses to Lev when pushed on the subject, only handing over as little as she can get away with.
She despises herself every time she does it, hearing the consequences of her actions spoken about by the Lothbroks, people killed, families ripped apart, collateral damage.
She tries to redress the balance of her disgusting deceit as often as she can. Julietta knows one of her strengths is the ability to read people as if they are telling her their secrets openly. Body language, the slightest flick of an eye, the quick exchange of notes between Ragnar's staff is stored in her head. Most of it is innocent, the occasional affair between staffers, a few people stealing from the kitchens, but any hint of something that could hurt any of the family she tells Ivar about, discreetly, so as not to give herself away, hints at things she’s noticed. Ivar is astute enough to read into it the droplets of information she gives him and neutralises the threat.
He can’t see I’m his biggest threat Julietta thinks sadly.
Over time Julietta becomes more involved with all the family members and she starts to enjoy their company, they treat her like one of their own, not knowing she is a snake in the nest. It’s hard enough betraying Ivar without the extra guilt so she stays detached, warm enough that she isn’t alienated but she keeps them at arm's length. For her own sanity.
After months of being on the estate with her love her brains tricks her into thinking she has some solace from her real life. She stops passing along as much information as she can get away with, only given intel she knows will have minimal impact on her husband and his family. She makes excuses to not have to meet up with Lev, passing along the information via a notebook hidden in her flat, deliberately ignoring Lev's outrage at her evasion, which is clear from the messages left in the hiding spot in her apartment.
She continues this way until a clear message is received. One of the Lothbrok security guards is found outside the estate with the letter E carved into his forehead; she knows she has to face her life outside the walls. For Lev to get so close to the estate, to risk the whole assignment to get her attention she knows she has no choice but to meet up with him.
The thought fills her with a paralysing fear, she can’t do this anymore. The double life has to stop and Julietta knows which of her two lives she wants.
Julietta goes to her apartment, calls Lev from the phone stashed in the space in the walls and arranges to meet him at the gym. She changes into her workout clothes and heads there with a racing heart. She went to the toilets at the back of the gym, where Lev has made sure that no security cameras reach.
He’s waiting for her and pins her to the wall before they mutter a world to each other. He pulls her shorts down roughly and his fingers are inside her before she knows what’s happening.
“Lev, no, we need to talk. Stop,” she tells him in Russian, grabbing his wrist to push him out of her, pulling up her shorts.
“Etta, what’s wrong? I’ve missed you. Do they know? Is that why I haven’t heard from you?” His mouth is all over her, her neck, her chest, making her skin crawl.
When he starts to kiss her mouth she twists her head away, and her head falls against the wall. It’s now or never.
“I'm not doing this anymore. I’m done. I'm going to be a proper wife to him. I love him, Lev. We are finished here.”
Lev's face pulls into a scowl before he bursts out laughing. “What? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t love him. You are mine!” He grabs her face, bruising it with his fingers. “You can’t just stop, you will never be done!” His face is searching hers, trying to find a hint of a joke.
She smacks his hand away “Don't ever touch me again, Lev. I am done with all of you. I never wanted any of this. My father won’t kill me for falling in love. Ivar, he’s not like any of you, not with me, he's gentle and he loves me.” Etta’s chin is raised in defiance.
“I fucking love you!” Lev replies with desperation in his tone. “I’ve loved you for years. You can’t be in love with him, he’s the fucking enemy, Etta.”
“Is he?” she shouts at him. “I’m starting to think we are. Father is only doing this for territory, not for revenge or anything noble!”
“Etta, my love. You are smarter than this…” Lev’s tone is one she recognises. A calm, friendly tone which is uses at his most dangerous. “Think about this my love. Come to your senses and I won’t tell anyone what you’ve said today. I love you.”
“Oh Lev, you’ve always been about your career, Fucking the bosses daughter was a strategic move for you. I know you would never choose me over the family.”
“You think Ivar would?” Lev screams and punches the wall next to Etta’s head. “You stupid fucking bitch. You are fucking dead. What did I tell you before? Do you remember? If you fell in love with him I would kill you both.” His hand is back on her jaw, pressing her skull against the hard wall behind her. “Etta. Tell me he hasn’t tasted you.” Levs face screws into pure hatred.
“I remember. I don’t care. I only care about him.” Her breaths are shallow with fear now. She’s weighed up all her options in the small space they are in. She knows all of Lev's moves and if she’s quick enough she can get the better of him. Hopefully.
“My rule, Etta,” Lev says through gritted teeth. “Did you let him taste you?” His eyes flit to her mouth.“You treacherous fucking whore!” He grabs her around the throat and she reaches into the underside of her sports bra pulling out her mini switchblade, flicking it open expertly and pushes it into his groin.
“Femoral artery, Lev. You taught me that. Let go of me or I’ll do it. You’ll bleed out in a minute or so. I’m a good actress, remember? I’ll say you attacked me and I will be believed. Never dare to call me a whore again.” She pushes the tip of her knife into his skin.
He glances down and removes his hands from her throat. “Dead woman. You are fucking dead, Etta” He points in her face and slams the restroom door open so hard it closes again she locks it quickly, clapping her hand over her mouth, hyperventilating in fear. She spends a few minutes calming down and listening for any sign of him. Silence remains and she is sure she is safe enough to leave the gym.
When she steps outside she hears screams from her right and as she spins towards the noise she sees Lev driving straight at her before everything goes black.
——————————————-
Present day
Consciousness tugs at her as does Ivar’s voice, which is getting louder with every syllable. Julietta wakes on the floor of their closet, Ivar cradling her head. “Liet? Baby, thank god! Are you okay?”
Was it all a dream? A nightmare? She knows it isn’t.
Her whole life is back.
Julietta remembers everything and she starts to sob.
“Julietta, what is it? More memories?”
Gods knows she can’t let on that she remembers everything. Even in her vulnerable state she knows for certain she needs time to sort through everything. As much as she wants to pour the truth out to him she values breathing. She hasn’t taken all the risks she has for this man to have him kill her in their beautiful home.
She shifts so she is sitting up, pushing away the nausea and reaches for the pendant laying between them. “The necklace, I remember the first time I put it on you. Ivar, I need to lie down. My head,” she whines, clutching her temples. “My head is splitting.”
She manages to walk to the bed on her wobbly legs, with his help and climbs under the covers and curls up into a ball. The bed dips and she feels him behind her, pressing himself close to her, running his hand up over her arm.
“Do you need anything, love? I will call a doctor.”
“No don’t, I’m ok. I think it’s just going to feel like this when I get memories, they said that after the market. Can you get me some water?”
Ivar nods against her skin. “I will love, I’m going to set an appointment tomorrow to go back to the hospital for tests. Just to be sure.”
As she hears him start to leave she turns to him quickly, knowing she needs to address something. “Ivar? I really don’t have any memory of that man from the Gala.”
Ivar’s jaw ticks and he nods stiffly at her then leaves.
Her own lip curls in disgust when she thinks of Lev. He will be dealt with sooner or later.
She stare up at the ceiling before getting the strength to walk to the bathroom to take a look at herself in the mirror. She looks different now she remembers who she is. Harder, she doesn’t like it.
“Hello, Etta.” She says to her reflection.
She runs her eyes over her reflection, the scar on her cheek, pulling down her top to look at the scars over her arm. Her gaze travels back to her short hair and she sneers slightly then remembers Ivar’s reaction to it and smiles.
“You are not Etta anymore,” she says softly, pointing at herself in the mirror. “You are Liet, his Liet. Bury the old you, do you hear me?” Her reflection nods and she starts to formulate a way forward.
A path to happiness.
————-
She doesn’t know how she manages to keep it together in the days and weeks after her life returns but she does. She compartmentalises her life as Etta until Ivar leaves every morning, as soon as the front door shuts she runs to the shower and tears pour from her. Grief for her parents, they way they were taken from her, the sheer scale of who she was before crushing her like a bug under a wheel.
Broken, bent, torn apart by the old her.
She prays to the Gods to make her Liet again, to remove everything she knows now but it’s just an act of futility. She has to find a way to live with the knowledge that she betrayed her Ivar, to continue to function as his wife with the terror that he and his family will find out about her.
The thought of fleeing crosses her mind, for him as much as for her. Gods know what Ragnar would do to Ivar if he finds out. If she leaves him, just disappears, she could protect him from that, but she knows she’s too selfish, and where would she go? Back to Lev?
Back to the man who did this to her?
“Liet, you have to talk to me. I feel you pulling away from me. I know something has changed. You are not… you are the same… you are turning into the you from before the accident and I need you to be happy again. Baby, please talk to me.”
Julietta can’t meet his eyes, but she forces herself to as she lies to his beautiful face. “I keep seeing flashes, I don’t like what I see, Ivar. Snippets of the way I was, and hate it. I was a totally different person, I didn’t know how to let myself be loved but I don't know why.” She knows why, but she needs to give him something. She used to be able to deceive at the blink of an eye, she’s lost that ability and part of her is grateful, but a bigger part of her wishes she could bullshit with ease to his face.
“Gods,” she thinks, “I should just fucking end it all now and spare him the pain of knowing who I really was.”
“Liet. I chose you then, and I will choose you in every lifetime I live. Always, baby. I’ve loved you since I laid eyes on you, I’ve loved you through the bad, the terrifying and the amazing. You don’t remember it all but I do, and it’s you. It’s always you. Always.
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She exists. Weeks are passing slowly and she is slowly learning how to be Liet, pushing Etta away. It’s easing, the guilt. The fear of being found out is something she just pushes away with a stern talking to in the mirror. She’s determined to be who she wants to be, not who she was.
Chapter 12
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Text
Come and Lay the Roses 36- Angel of Mercy- [Ivar x OC]
Summary: Aaline and Ivar are finally reunited.
Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha
Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault
Ch. 35
AN: Wow. It's been a long time. I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time and haven't been able to pin down why I waited so long to update. Part of me blames writer's block, part of me blames my schedule and timing, but the biggest thing I think that kept me from updating was that this would mean the end of this journey.
I came up with the idea for this story in May 2019 and after four years, it's finally finished. I don't think I was ready to end this journey and part with Aaline and the Lothbrok clan. I've been telling myself for weeks that I need to finish it and I've finally decided that I'm ready to end this journey.
I thank all of you who have stuck with me on this adventure.
“Angel of mercy, how did you find me? How did you pick me up again? Angel of mercy, how did you move me? Why am I on my feet again?”
~ “Mercy” by OneRepublic
She was warm. A marked difference from the last few weeks of her existence. She inhaled deeply and slowly, allowing the world to come back into focus. She blinked and surveyed the room she was in. 
It was her room. Her and Ivar’s. The curtains were closed except for a six inch gap that allowed sunlight to stream in and light up the dim room. There was just enough to maneuver the room but not wake her.
She shifted and winced at the sharp pain that lanced through her back. It would’ve been gracious to call the bed she’d slept on for the last few weeks a cot. It was barely more than a metal frame with a threadbare mattress. The metal bars had dug painfully into her bones for the few days she tried to sleep on it. Eventually she took to sleeping on the floor. It was more comfortable by far but still gave her stiff muscles. Sleeping on a real mattress had done little to ease the ache. 
She shifted slowly up to her elbows and glanced around. Clothes were littered on the floor. A serving tray of dirty dishes sat on the dresser across the room and a half full glass of water on the nightstand. She looked at the alarm clock and noted that it was the middle of the afternoon. 
She didn’t know how long she’d slept or how many days had passed since her rescue. She felt grimy and dirty and knew she hadn’t been bathed since then. She decided not to wait around for someone to help her and hoisted herself out of the bed. 
With stiff legs, she made her way to the bathroom and blinked rapidly against the bright white light that penetrated her eyes. She smiled at the bouquet of black roses that were situated in the middle of the counter. Ivar had even left a short note expressing his love. He didn’t date stamp it so she didn’t know when he’d written it but she settled it back on the counter anyway, contentment thriving through her veins. 
She switched the shower head on high and undressed. Someone, probably Ivar, had dressed her simply. She pulled the black comfort t-shirt over her head and slipped her panties down her legs. The dirt and grime from the concrete room she’d been held in still decorated her body in streaks of gray and black and brown. She looked at her face in the mirror and narrowed her eyes at the vibrant purple bruise along her jaw and the dried blood that had caked itself in her nostrils and along her upper lip. 
She tried to comb the rat's nest that was her hair so she didn’t tangle it further in the shower but there was little hope for the strands. She pushed it back from her face and stepped into the shower when the steam fogged up the mirror beyond sight. 
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her mouth. The hot air filled her lungs and she felt herself relax. Her muscles began to unclench and she could feel her body disengaging from fight or flight mode. 
Once the trembling in her hands had stopped, she picked up Ivar’s shampoo and dropped a generous dollop in her hand. She massaged the minty soap through her hair and shivered as her scalp began to tingle. 
She combed her fingers through the knots as best she could, wincing at the extra sharp tugs that befell her scalp when she came to a particularly vicious snarl. She rinsed the lather and began again, working to clean all the grease and grime from her hair that she could manage.
She used her own rose scented body wash to scrub the dirt and grime from her body, scrubbing twice like she did for her hair, before turning to the leave in conditioner. She worked the lather into her hair before tilting her head back and closing her eyes, letting the hot water pelt her chest and stomach. 
She startled at the sound of the bathroom slamming open. She barely had time to shut the water off before the shower door slid open and she was pulled into Ivar’s arms. He didn’t seem to mind that she was soaking wet and dampening his clothes. He pulled her out of the steam and lifted her, settling her on the counter top. She shivered against the temperature difference and he left her arms only long enough to wrap a towel around her shoulders. 
He returned to her embrace and she wrapped her arms and legs around him fully, holding him in the embrace of her body. She felt him sign against her neck and knew it was a weight leaving his shoulders. He pulled back and pushed her hair behind her ears with the flat of his palm. She nuzzled into the contact. 
“Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his fingers combing through the wet strands of her hair. She nodded against his palm and tangled her fingers in the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 
“How many people did you kill searching for me?” She asked. He smirked and stepped out of her embrace. He took a second towel from the rack on the wall and began meticulously drying her off. He started from the top, softly stroking the towel over her hair, squeezing the ends. He trailed it across her shoulders and down her arms, stroking over the crease of her elbow and over the backs of her hands. He even toweled off the spaces between her fingers.
“Innumerable. There is no number that will equal how precious your life is to me.” He answered. He brought the towel to her legs and traced her thighs and hips. She sucked in a soft breath when he gently toweled off the space between her legs, stroking the curls and dragging between the crease of her thigh. He smirked before stepping back and lifting first one leg and then the other, settling the balls of each foot on his chest and he dried her calves and feet. 
When he was satisfied, he pulled open the mirror and reached for her lotion and moisturizer. She closed her eyes and he traced his fingers gently over the planes of her face, taking care with her bruises. He rubbed in her moisturizer before opening her lotion and smoothing his hands over her chest. She shuddered when he worked the lather into her breasts, the spaces of his fingers catching on her nipples in a way that she wasn’t a hundred percent certain was accidental. 
She opened her eyes when he withdrew and almost shouted when he lifted her from the counter and returned to the bedroom. She let him settle her on the bed as he pulled a new shirt, his, and new underwear, hers, from the dresser.
He took her breath away when he dropped to a knee before her and, not once breaking eye contact, slid her panties up her legs. She shifted so he could settle them over her hips. He hovered over her, his mouth a hair's breadth away from hers but denied her a kiss. “If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.” She whispered. He grinned before picking up the new t-shirt and sliding it over her head without ceremony. She laughed as she pulled her head through the neck and slid her arms through the sleeves.
Ivar grew serious as soon as she reappeared and she twisted around on the bed to face him. She let him examine her face, which she knew was a mess of cuts and bruises. “I’m fine, Ivar.” She said.
He met her eyes and gave her a sad smile. She leaned forward into his space. “You know, this whole time I’ve been awake, you haven’t kissed me.” Ivar tilted his head to the side, his smile growing playful. “Kiss me, husband.” She said, and Ivar was unable to do anything but obey. 
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking entrance almost immediately. She moaned and pressed forward, deepening their kiss. Ivar groaned and pulled back, licking his lip. She grinned at him, blood on her teeth. Ivar growled and leaned forward, his hand settling at her throat and squeezing.
She groaned as Ivar tilted her head to the side and trailed kisses down the side of her throat. They left fire in their wake and Aaline sighed, settling her hands on Ivar’s forearms as he maneuvered her head whichever way he wanted.
She trailed her hands up his arms to his shoulders, tightening her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt. “There’s something that I have to tell you.” Ivar hummed as he licked a line up the left side of her throat. She moaned when he nipped at the hinge of her jaw. 
“I’ve been meaning to say it for awhile butー” She’s cut off as a whimper works its way past her lips when Ivar sucked a mark into her throat at the curve of her neck and shoulder. Ivar hummed and switched sides, trailing nipping kisses up the other side of her neck. She knew she’d have marks to show for his affections. 
“What did you want to say?” He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He traced the curve of it with his tongue before biting the lobe. She gasped and clutched tighter as his shoulders. 
“I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid.” Ivar pulled back and met her eyes, his hands moving to cup her face. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones. She blinked at him, her hands releasing his shirt and smoothing out the fabric.
“I love you.” She whispered, her voice trembling. Ivar hummed and stroked his thumb across her cheek. He leaned for and settled his forehead against hers.
“As I love you.” He responded. Aaline released a watery laugh before surging forward and kissing him. Ivar laughed and opened his mouth to her, letting her devour him. She sat up on her knees and pressed bodily against him. Ivar groaned and stroked his hands down her back, reveling in the feeling of his wife safe in his arms again. 
Aaline giggled as Ivar’s hands smoothed up her back, taking her t-shirt with him on his way. She settled in his lap, relief flowing through her veins as her husband proceeded to make love to her.
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