#modern floki
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Learning to Walk Again⎮Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]
Find more Ink Drinker here.
Author's Note: This takes place somewhere between Chapter Six, and Chapter Seven, and as someone who is only a provider for patients pre-hospital, this defienetly pushed me out of my comfort zone. (And was likely why it took my so long to write again.)
Content Warnings: Medical settings, Ivar being reluctant.
Word Count: 2600+ words
“Giving you love right now, Ivar, seems like a desperate act,”
It intoxicates him, lying in the cot; and having seen the abyss he’s falling towards up close, he still refuses. Floki sits on the other side of the room, painstakingly watching Ivar stare at the ceiling, at the world just beyond his window. He’s watching him waste away; pushing himself up on few occasions to readjust, but he refuses food. Refuses help. He just simply refuses.
“The only way I am leaving here, Ivar, is if you get up and escort me out,” Floki has told him, calmly.
“Do you want my lunch?” Ivar asks dryly. Floki on shakes his head. “You’ve been here for days,” He tries.
“As have you,” Floki starts. “The only difference is, Helga has packed me food. You know how she gets,”
“Go home to her,” Ivar grumbles.
“No,” Floki replies, and it’s firm. Reasonable. Steady—what Ivar needs right now. His eyes are still closed as he speaks, head resting back against the wall. Floki never sleeps, Ivar is sure of that. He only rests.
“I don’t want to break up your marriage because of this. I’ve already lost Y/N,”
“You fight for what you want,” Floki simply says. “And, if you would look at any other place than outside your window, you bastard, you’d notice, she’s been in the hall,” Ivar turns his head quickly at that. But he knows, Floki never lies.
You’re there, propped up in one of the most uncomfortable chairs you’ve ever sat in, your sweatshirt bunched into a makeshift pillow as you scroll on your phone. You’re still in your uniform, and you’ll probably stay in it until your next shift. There’s a single water bottle on the ground, and as Ivar watches you, a nurse stops at your side. She offers you something to eat and you accept it. Because she knows you’ve been here for days, too.
“Thank you, Thora,” You say softly and your throat is dry. Dry from misuse, dry from crying. Dry.
“You’re alone today,” She remarks, and takes the set next to you. Your eyes watch her, trailing from your phone to her face before dancing down to her ID badge, clipped to her scrubs by a cartoon pizza slice, complete with a smile.
“Yeah, his brother wanted to get some sleep in a place that won’t cause him irreversible spine damage,” You hum, watching Thora split her sandwich into two pieces.
“You might want to try that too,” Thora says softly, handing you your half. “They seems really close,”
“They’re twins,” You state. “They were made that way,” You snort. “We uh, we worked his crash together,” You then tell her.
“Wow,” Thora answers. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like,”
“I couldn’t tell you, either, I haven’t—haven’t processed it yet,”
“You will in time,” She tells you. “If you don’t die from exhaustion, or spine damage first,” She teases you, and you snort.
“I didn’t get to be where I am without being determined,” You answer. “Chief didn’t raise no quitter,” And that phrase alone makes you smile.
For a moment you wish he was here; everything makes sense with him around. Your drawing he handed you is still in your pocket, and every so often you find your fingers gravitating towards it. Like a toddler and their favorite blanket. It makes sense. Just like everything makes sense in the bay at the station. You can’t remember how many times you’ve sat on those floors, even prior to your career, just to find some piece of mind. That warmth of nostalgia from the cool touch to the concrete; and the smell—one you’ve never found anywhere else. How your home smells, only to you. A scent you could notice any moment, but it would only make sense in that one place. You’d wheel Ivar there in a heartbeat if you thought it would have the same affect on him.
“If he doesn’t start eating soon, we’ll have to place him on a feeding tube,” Thora suddenly admits.
“I know,” You say.
Ivar watches you converse, not able to know what you’re saying but with the expression on your face, he learns it’s nothing pleasant. You’re paler now than he remembers, there’s no color to your cheeks, you’re gaunt, you’re simple existing as he is.
That’s the moment Ivar realizes it. If this kills him, it’s going to kill you, too.
It’ll kill Floki.
It’ll kill Hvitserk.
It’ll kill Aiden.
It’ll kill his mother.
It’ll kill you. It’ll kill the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
Inhaling suddenly, a panic seeps into Ivar—as if something has grabbed him, holding him under water and his screams only bubble to the surface. Sitting up quickly he grips his bed sheets, the monitor to his side beeps rapidly to announce the anxiety and it draws Floki’s attention. It draws Thora’s attention, and with a bite of turkey in your mouth, you look up at the man, with panic etched into his features, he is staring back at you.
“Ivar?” Floki says, and even you notice that this is concerning to him. “Ivar? What’s going on?”
“I—,” And out of all the languages he can speak, none of them want to trickle off his tongue. Thora stands in anticipation and you only put your hand to slow her down.
“Leave him be,” You finally say after swallowing your bite. “Floki’s the best thing for him right now,”
“Not if he’s having a serious problem,” Thora answers, looking down at you.
“He’s not,” You reply. “I know that look,” You tell her.
“I can’t kill her,” Ivar finally says.
“Ivar…?” Floki starts.
“Y/N,” Ivar replies, as if the answer is as clear for Floki as it is for him. “I can’t kill Y/N,”
“You think this is killing her?” Floki asks. “Tell me more,” Ivar swallows thickly.
“She’s…she’s pale,” Ivar replies. Floki negates to turn to look at you, waiting for what more is to come. Ivar takes his hands to scrub the tears out of his eyes before speaking again:
“She’s in the same uniform,”
“She wears and identical uniform, Ivar. Every day,”
“No—no she washes it after work. Right after work—she’s through the door and…and it’s in the wash before anything else. I always—I always kiss her shoulder when she’s done and she said—she wants a tattoo there now because it’s so reparative. It drives me up the fucking wall too because sometimes…she just washes it alone, or I’ve done my laundry already and then she’s there, taking off her uniform,”
You watch Ivar. You watch him explain something to Floki with the intensity through his features, a passion to his words and you wonder what on earth he could be talking about.
“The color is always brighter after the wash, and it’s always dim when she comes home from work. Like…like she’s so excited to go into the job she loves, and even though she’s drained when she comes home, she does it all again because that’s who she is,”
“Ivar,” Floki tries.
“And it’s so dim right now, Floki—her uniform, her face, everything is so fucking dim because of me. And this is killing me, because I can hardly move and—and I keep trying to tell my legs to move but they’re ignoring me. And if this kills me, it’s going to kill her. Where will she find that color if I die, Floki?” Ivar finally cries.
Floki’s eyes water, inhaling deeply as he watches the little boy he remembers cry in front of him.
“Ivar,” Floki says. “Let’s stand up, and we’ll go from there,”
And Ivar nods. Without even thinking about the sentence, he nods every so slightly that Floki almost misses it.
Stunned for a moment, Floki swallows, mentally patting himself on the shoulder as he straightens. He puts a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, squeezing for a second before he abandons his bag on the chair and turns to the hallway. Opening the door and cleaning his throat he looks at both you, and Thora.
“Think you can help him stand, Y/N?” Floki asks. In all honesty, you’re quite positive you’re imagining it. “Y/N?” Floki asks again.
“Help him…help him stand?” You ask.
“Did I stutter?” Floki tries. You inhale, standing as Thora follows you. But before she can follow you into the room, Floki cuts off her path.
“Give them a second,” He winks. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Floki asks her.
“Hi,” Ivar says to you softly.
“Hi, Ivar,” You say back to him as he finally looks up at you. “Oh, Ivar…” You trail off, taking the pad of your thumb to wipe the tear that spills. He melts into your hand at an instance, leaning against your palm as if you’re taking away every ounce of discomfort for him.
“I don’t want to kill you,” Ivar mumbles.
“What?” You ask.
“I don’t want to kill you too,” He repeats, as if it makes sense to you, like it does to him.
“You won’t,” You try.
“If I don’t get better, I will,” He tells you and that’s when it hits you, too.
“Then lets stand up, just you and me, yeah?” You try.
“Are you allowed to do that?” Ivar asks, stalling.
“I am a medical professional,” You say. “And they can sue me if they think otherwise. I’ll move the blanket, you don’t have to look, alright?” You tell him and Ivar nods.
It aches Ivar as he feels you pull the sheet from his leg, relishing in the fact that he can feel it; he can feel the cold air against his skin, but he won’t look. You eyes scan his legs, still wrapped in dressings, less stitches than you remember and you gently place you hand on his thigh.
“You feel that?” You ask and Ivar nods. Your mind takes over, as if he is a patient in your care and you asses is pedal pulse, two fingers on the top of his foot and it’s strong. “Can you feel that?” You whisper and Ivar nods, still looking directly at you. Only at you. You take your knuckle against the ball of his foot, tracing from heel to toe lightly, and back down again. “How about that?” And he nods, a glimmer of a smirk to his lips at how it tickles him. “Can you move your toes for me?” You then ask him, and Ivar does—eyes still not leaving yours. He watches how your eyes water, and you recall asking him similar questions in the heat of the crash’s aftermath and how he slurred a response.
“Can you roll your ankles at all?” You whisper. And you watch them rotate, just as you ask. You take you thumb to his nail bed, pressing against his toe to watch the capillary refill in almost perfect time. And the whole time, Ivar’s eye never leave your face. “Alright,” You squeak. “I’ll help you swing them slowly,”
“Wait,” Ivar says suddenly. “Come here,” And you obey. His hands stretch towards you, taking up your cheeks as he brushes the hair from your face, and wiping under your eyes. He pulls you in then, his lips just brushing yours and you can’t help the small cry that escapes, that’s caught between the two of you before it’s swallowed with the kiss.
“I love you,” Ivar whispers.
“I love you, too,”
“Now I’m ready,” Ivar tells you.
Your hands are nearly hot coals against his legs, as you try to be as gentle as possible with your heart rate nearly pounding in your ears. You have half a mind to stop, to pull out your phone so you can record it but you don’t want to ruin the moment.
“Fuck, that tile is a lot colder than I thought it would be,” Ivar grumbles and it makes you laugh. “If I fall, you know you’re going to fall with me, right?”
“Gee, Ivar, I hadn’t really thought of that,” You say sarcastically and there’s a glare from his face that you don’t realize how much you have missed until that moment.
With his feet on the floor you repeat the same movements, assess, feeling, having him move his toes and his ankles and all the while Ivar won’t look at his legs. Adjusting his hospital gown, you position his hand to grip the railing, and you put your shoulder under his opposite arm.
“Ready?” You ask.
“Not really,” Ivar admits.
“If you think you’re going to fall, just sit back down, alright?”
“You ever done this before?” Ivar asks, stalling.
“Only at least once a day while I’m on duty,” You answer.
“I don’t know if I can—”
“Ivar, not today,” You state. “We’re not doing this today, we’re not doubting ourselves,” And Ivar inhales. “On three, yeah?”
“Baby—”
“Ivar,” You say sternly, catching his eyes. “You can do this. You can stand up. It’ll get you that much closer to coming home,”
“Alright,” Ivar peeps.
“One, two…two and a half…three,” You finally say. And as you hold your breath your barrel your feet down against the ground, taking Ivar’s weight as you help to lift him. You watch the muscles in his arm tense, the veins popping into view as he pushes himself to be flat on his feet. And for a moment, time freezes, and Ivar stands.
He stands.
“Fuck,” Ivar hisses. “It’s worse than pins and needles,” He groans.
“Lean some of your weight on me,” You tell him. And he does. “Alright, good, now shift some back against the bed,” You then say. As Ivar follows your command you take your free arm and you reach for the walker that’s collecting dust by his bed.
“We’re going to switch, and you’re going to push your weight through your hands against the walker, alright?”
“No—I’ll fall,” Ivar tries.
“On three, yeah?”
“Y/N,” Ivar tells you but you know better this time than to let him pull himself out of the moment. You move the device in front of him and he follows suit without argument, grunting slightly as he moves his hand from the rail to the handle. Slowly you help him bring the other hand down, catching his weight before he’s standing on his own, hands gripping the bars for dear life.
And you laugh—in sheer shock you look at Ivar standing before you.
“Ivar!” You exclaim. “You’re standing, you’re—you’re fucking standing!”
Ivar has a look of discomfort across his face, mixing with the anguish and what feels like slight embarrassment while you reward him for what he thinks is the most basic fucking thing.
“Where do you hurt?” You ask quickly, searching his face.
“Do you want to guess?” Ivar snaps at you. His breathing rate increases as he feels his palms get sweaty and he worries he’s going to lose his balance.
“I’m right here, Ivar,” You tell him.
“I’m standing,” He finally croaks. “I’m actually—standing,” And there’s a smile on his face.
You move yourself to his vision, reaching through your toes to kiss his chin and you smile back at him.
“I told you,” You whisper to him, and Ivar sees that color come back to your face.
“Where’s Floki?” Ivar asks.
“Did you really think I would go that far, eh?” Floki sings from the hallway.
“Floki—I’m standing,” Ivar says in disbelief. “You have to call Hvitserk,” He adds.
“My phone is a bit busy right now,” Floki hums, and you notice then, where his bag sits abandoned in his chair, his phone sits just outside of it, propped up, and recording.
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full masterlist can be found here.
#vikings#vikings au#modern vikings#ivar au#modern vikings au#ivar#modern ivar#vikings fiction#ivar lothbrok#ivar x you#ivar x reader#modern ivar x you#modern ivar x reader#floki#floki au#modern floki
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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕤𝔸𝕡𝕡 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕍𝕚𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤
Note: Modern/Vikings Boys/Girls - Ask me something lighter, my brain is a big question mark for me too...
Look here for the Others - Here
You -- Hi Ivar, are you on your way already?
Ivar -- I'm t6n my vay
You -- What?
Ivar -- I have to stop because of you
You -- What?
Ivar -- I can only write with one hand when I walk
You -- Are you on your way?
Ivar -- …..
You -- ??
Ivar -- I AM ON THE WAY
Aslaug -- Honey, Think of the Children
You -- What, I don't have any
Aslaug -- Oh, Wrong Chat
You -- No Problem
Alsaug -- Oh, but can you watch my kids today?
You -- I'm not even in Kattegat
Aslaug -- Thank you
You -- Can you help me a moment?
Sigurd -- What for?
You -- The train is not coming
Sigurd -- I don't know the train driver
You -- What? I wanted to ask if you could pick me up.....
Sigurd -- I don't even know how to drive a train.
You -- …
Ragnar -- I'm on the sea right now, check the view out
Sends a picture
You -- Yes, you had your finger in front of the lens
Ragnar -- Oh wait…
Sends a picture
You -- You sent me the same picture, you have to send the new one.
Ragnar -- Oh wait, I don't know … ah here
Sends the same picture
You -- Wow, beautiful view….
Ragnar -- I told you !
Hvitserk -- She has big tits!!
You -- ….
Hvitserk-- Wait… who are you?
You - …
Hvitserk -- Shit, meant to write Ubba, sry
You -- Yeah, have fun...
Hvitserk -- Yes I will…
You --...
Hvitserk -- …
You -- Um, may I ask again about the other day?
Helga -- Of course, dear, it's not difficult, just stick it in the hole
You -- That's not easy the end always splits
Helga -- Lick the end
You -- Oh, it worked
Helga -- I told you it's easy to get a thread in a needle
You -- Haven't forgotten, Floki!
Floki write for 10 mins
You -- This will be a long text
Floki write after 15 mins
Floki -- Ok
You -- WTF
Floki -- I forgot to press send
You -- …
Floki write for 10 mins
You -- … gosh
You -- I'm a bit bored right now
Athelstan -- Then you should read a book
You -- Hm, good idea, can you recommend something?
Athelstan -- I was just about to read the Bible myself.
You -- Spoiler Alert! Jesus dies!
Athelstan -- …. Funny….
You -- Hahahahahhahaha
Athelstan -- ….
You -- Hahahahahhahaha
Rollo -- Quick question!
You -- Yes?
Rollo -- Where can you find these apps?
You -- In your app - shop/store, which one are you looking for?
Rollo -- Does this shop exist in Kattegat?
You -- Are you serious?
Rollo -- Yes
Ubba -- ooh, I've now figured out how to copy chat texts!
You -- That's cool...
Ubba -- ooh, I've now figured out how to copy chat texts!
You -- Super - I'm proud of you, tell me more !
Ubba -- ooh, I've now figured out how to copy chat texts!
You -- great, how long are you going to do this now?
Ubba -- ooh, I've now figured out how to copy chat texts!
You -- ……….
Ubba -- ooh, I've now figured out how to copy chat texts!
You -- Fuck you!
Ubba -- Hahahahaha
#vikings#modern vikings#modern ivar x reader#ivar x reader#vikings fandom#ubbe ragnarsson#vikings hvitserk#sigurd ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson#bjorn ironside#vikings x reader#whatsapp chat#vikings floki#floki the boat builder#ragnar lothbrok#aslaug#athelstan#ubbe#rollo lothbrok
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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 17
I'm back! I'm so sorry its taken me months to update. Life took a turn for the busy. During this time I've had people ask and I promise I have no intentions of abandoning this fic, even if it takes me months to update. I'm enjoying this story too much, and I hope you are too.
Also this chapter was a tough one to write. So I suggest you buckle up your seatbelts because the angst train is here since its Ivar's POV! Hopefully the length also makes up for the wait!
min skatt– my treasure
Words: 9400
Warnings: language, implied drug use, mild sexual content, brief mentions of violence, Ivar doesn't handle feelings well
Series Masterlist
Ivar fucked up.
He knew it. His family knew it. Hell, it might as well be broadcasted on global news at this point.
He had fucked up.
Severely.
That thick, tar-like feeling of betrayal had coated his nerve endings, dulled his mind and made his black heart stone-cold. The sensation of betrayal was not unusual, but he hated it. With every cell of his body, he loathed it. Anger was an escape, a way to get out of the suffocating void that betrayal tried to drown him in. So he latched onto the familiar burn of anger, a welcomed friend by this point in his life.
But when the fire burned out, when he could see past the comforting haze of red…it was to the sight of fear in Kari's blue-green eyes and tears running down her cheeks.
Immediately, he knew he fucked up in the worst way possible. And when she ran from him, he could not blame her. Even if every step she took away from him was a knife repeatedly to the gut. But her expressive eyes, they told him how badly he had messed up. She had dealt with plenty of his shit but this…this was the line crossed. He could not even get mad at her for it, for self-loathing had wrapped its tentacles around him and squeezed.
He had lost her. His gift from the gods. His kitten.
His Kari.
He vaguely remembered screaming and demanding his brothers and Floki release him. Could barely recall landing a solid punch to Sigurd that busted his knuckles and broke his brother's nose. Somehow he ended up on the floor whimpering her name with cold tears slipping from his eyes as Floki kept his arms wrapped around him, either to keep him restrained or to comfort, Ivar was unsure. But it did not matter.
In a single moment, he knew he had lost her.
And it was his own fucking fault.
When Ragnar returned later, Ivar could barely get words to come out, his tongue felt heavy and his stomach full of stones. His father had taken one look at him and sighed.
"Leave her alone. I told her you'd stay away. Don't make me fucking put security on you to keep away from her. She's got enough shit to deal with now."
Ivar nodded silently. Promising himself he would.
But the next day he broke that promise.
It was an all-consuming need to see her, to check on her, to make sure she did not despise him as much as he did himself. He tried to sneak away, however idiotic that was. A crippled bastard trying to sneak out of the house, where every footfall was as loud as a gong. Standing at the door, phone in hand to call a driver, Floki had found him. He took one look at the child of his heart and told him to get into his car. That he would drive him, but only this once.
Ivar was unsure what he had expected when choosing to visit Kari. Hell, he was not even sure she would be home. All he knew was at some point during the night, while he laid awake on his bed, sleep evading him like a mocking ghost, he knew he had to see her. Fuck what Ragnar said.
When she walked away, she had taken part of his heart with her. Whoever cliché that sounded, and he would never admit it aloud. Yet that was how it felt. And now he needed to know if he would ever get that blackened, bleeding organ back from her delicate, gentle hands.
In his mind, the best case scenario of his unexpected arrival would involve her running into his arms, him reassuring her he never meant to hurt her, immediately followed by hot make-up sex that lasted for hours.
The worst case scenario? He would walk in the door and she would shoot him. No…he would walk in the door and she would coldly tell him she never wanted to see him again, that whatever they had was over and how much she hated him. He would gladly take being shot instead of hearing her say anything like that.
What he walked in on- seeing her curled up on the couch, with red-rimmed eyes and tear stains on her cheeks- that felt like someone took a whip at what remained of his heart and attempted to shred it.
When he happened to notice the faintest discoloration along her jawline…the lashings began in earnest.
Then her words, her hesitation. It all tore at him.
"I need time, Ivar."
Another lashing of the whip.
But he absorbed the pain, welcomed it because he deserved every stroke. What he did was unforgivable, but somehow he hoped she would.
Gods, he hoped she could forgive him.
He did not linger, feeling his concrete reinforced composure cracking under the weight of his self-loathing and turmoil.
Thankfully, Floki never said a word when Ivar reentered the car. Nor did he question when Ivar put in a food order to be delivered to Kari.
Afterwards, the entire drive was silent.
Back at the house, he could feel Floki's shrewd gaze on him but he ignored it. He only spared his brothers a glance before retreating to his room. To the isolation and darkness there. To where he could cry without anyone seeing.
At some point that despair morphed into anger and before he realized it, he found himself in the home gym. He had no recollection of walking out of his room and to the gym. But in the moment, it did not matter. All he cared about was ruthlessly pounding on the punching bag.
All of his self-loathing. All of his anger directed at himself, at his family, at the whole fucking world. All of his pain and despair. All for it he poured into his punches. Each slam of his fist on the fabric drained a little more from the reservoir overflowing inside of him.
When his bones broke under the onslaught, he never relented.
As blood splattered the bag, the floor and himself, he persevered.
His whole vision had tunneled into needing to feel the pain, into pouring out his frustration. He breathed in the pain and let it wash over him.
He was not one for going to church, none of the Lothbroks were. But this. Each punch. Each sharp stab of pain. Each coating of blood flying from his own body. It all felt like a penance. It was no Hail Mary or Our Father. But this was even more raw, more real for Ivar.
For he knew blood. He knew pain.
What better way to atone for his sins than to punish himself with both?
He was unsure how long he slaved away at his personal penance until they found him.
Ubbe and Hvitserk pinned him to the floor. His blood stained their hands. His heart and lungs were in overdrive yet his mind was blissfully silent. He could vaguely hear Floki say something about a broken hand and they needed to take him to the hospital.
The rest of the night was spent with nurses and doctors, x-rays and a black cast on his hand and forearm. The sterile smell of the hospital burned his nose. The grating voices of the hospital staff asking questions and reading his extensive records irritated him.
But he kept silent.
All he could hope for, all he could pray for, was his atonement could somehow make up for his sins. That his blood shed could replace the pain he caused.
That his offering would be enough.
*****
The following day he spent in solitude. No matter how many times someone knocked on his door, he never answered. The one time Hvitserk tried to stick his head in, Ivar threw a drinking glass at him. Immediately after, Ivar cursed himself for the now shattered glass on the carpet. He knew he was acting pitiful yet he could not seem to rise above the deep well of depression and its thick cords wrapped around his body, dragging him further into its dark depths.
The only person he willingly chose to answer was his mother, but that was more out of self-preservation when she continuously called him for three minutes straight without stopping. The conversation had been brief and then he returned to watching TV while laying on his bed, trying his hardest to ignore the cast on his right hand and forearm and how much it fucking sucked to deal with.
At some point during the day, he had tossed his phone across the room, uncaring whether it broke or not. The temptation, the need, to text Kari, to call her, to profusely apologize and beg for her forgiveness was too much. She said she needed time. So he was going to damn well give it to her.
Fuck, if he could just forget it all for a while. Instead of drowning in thoughts of her. Of his self-loathing. Of how he always fucked up the best things in his life.
The next day an idea came to mind, a way to find a temporary reprieve from the swirling vultures of his thoughts.
He just needed his brother's help.
*****
Ivar and Hvitserk settled back onto the couches, the short table in front of them already with beers waiting for their pleasure. The loud thumping from the bass of the club's speakers could be felt in Ivar's chest. The shrill cries of the inebriation mixed with excitement filled the air as much as the music.
He pointedly ignored the fact, this was the very place he first met Kari and became consumed by her.
Ivar's fierce blue eyes scanned the crowd from his advantageous position about the main floor. For a Sunday night, the dance floor was packed and the line along the bar was full. He wondered if there was a special event or celebration causing it to be busier than normal. Not that he truly cared. The more people the better for his plan.
"So why are we here, Ivar?"
He looked over at his flaxen-haired brother. "I needed to get out."
"Yeah? Well I'm personally shocked this is the place you'd choose." Hvitserk waved to someone walking by that called his name but swiftly returned his attention to his younger brother. "So why are we here?"
"I told you–"
"And I'm calling bullshit, Ivar."
Ivar scoffed, taking a long draw of the beer in front of him. Only after initially reaching for the beer with his right hand and belatedly remembering it was in a cast before grabbing it with his left. It was a miracle he had not needed surgery for all the broken bones in his hand and wrist. The dumbass that he was, he had not even thought to wrap his hands before pummeling the punching bag. But what was another surgery to him? What was more broken bones to his crippled body? Physical pain was his closest companion. But this constant ache in his heart, this roiling torment, it was more than he could bear.
Hvitserk sighed. "I know you're hurting– don't give me that look, asshole– it's obvious to everyone with eyes. Look, if you wanted to just get drunk, we could have done that at home. So why are we here? Do you need a distraction? Someone to suck your cock? Is that why we're here?"
Ivar leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, mirroring his brother's pose. "I need something to get me out of my fucked up mind for a while."
"Okay…I'll go order a bottle of–"
"No," Ivar interrupted, "I need something else. I need the good stuff, Hvits."
Hvitserk blinked for a moment before immediately shaking his head and leaning back, as if distancing himself emphasized his refusal. "Ivar, no."
Ivar waited a second before continuing. "You know who has the best quality, who doesn't fuck around."
"Ivar….I don't do that anymore–I won't…not this."
The youngest Lothbrok understood his brother's hesitation, his wariness. It was a closely concealed secret of their family about Hvitserk's prior drug addiction and how it had almost killed it. He had been clean for close to two years now, but Ivar knew he still had connections even if he did not partake in the sampling anymore.
Ivar continued to stare at his older brother, just waiting. He knew he was an absolute, selfish bastard for asking this favor. Hvitserk had tried to protect his youngest brother as much as possible while he struggled with his addiction, and this was the one dark spot in Hvitserk's life that he tried to forget about or ignore. But right now, Ivar would do whatever necessary to get a break from his emotional pain. Including lying to his brother.
Hvitserk ran a hand down his face. "Just this once."
"Just this once." Ivar agreed.
He stood up, giving Ivar one more long look as if hoping Ivar would change his mind. When Ivar only stared back, Hvitserk shook his head, and wandered off with a "stay here" over his shoulder.
The dark-haired Lothbrok leaned back on the couch, arms across the back and surveyed the crowd once again. Years ago he had experimented with different substances, usually alongside Hvitserk, but while his brother enjoyed the sensations, Ivar did not. His mind was his greatest weapon, his most prolific asset. He disliked having his senses affected and his mind sluggish or useless. There had also been one too many accidents that left him in the hospital due to broken bones or lacerations that made him rethink the continued use. He did not mind getting a buzz from drinking, it was almost an obligation during family events, but he still felt in control then.
Tonight though, he wanted out of his head. Even for a little while.
Feeling eyes on him, his predatory gaze shifted towards the half stairs leading up to the restricted seating area. His blue eyes locked with a pair of bright green ones, belonging to a blonde with a black and gold dress that hugged her fit form like it had been painted on. He continued to watch her, curious to see what she would do next. Instead of looking away, she met his gaze head-on, running a finger along the low neckline of her dress.
A smirk grew on Ivar's face as he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her over.
It did not take long until his cock was down her throat.
He allowed the sweet bliss to fill him, to cloud his mind and focus on the pleasure her skilled tongue gave him. But even then, it was still Kari's name on the tip of his tongue when he came.
*****
Darkness swaddled Ivar in its cocoon of warmth, keeping him safe and at peace. Here, nothing mattered. In the darkness, he was nothing and everything. A serenity floated through and around him, even when his dreams were caked in blood and screams. Nothing could touch or harm him….
….until the abrupt sensation of cold water splashed across his face, delivering him back to the realm of the living.
"Fuckkkk….what the fuck?" Ivar groaned after jerking awake and wiping the water off this face. Now his pillow was wet. Whoever disturbed him was going to fucking die. Well, once the pounding in his head, echoing his heartbeat, stopped and pain no longer flared behind his eyelids. Fuck, the nausea churning in his gut threatened to escape its weak confines. His stomach itself was attempting to claw its way out of his body. Why did everything fucking hurt? What kind of hangover from hell was this?
"Mmm….what's going on, baby?" A sleep-laced, feminine voice said from beside him.
Her voice grated against his ears, only intensifying the psychotic marching band that had taken up residence in his brain. "Shut the fuck up." He growled as he screwed his eyes shut.
A signature giggle came from the end of the bed, quickly followed by, "does your head hurt? That's a shame."
Fuckkkkkkkk……
Silently, Ivar begged all the gods he knew of to kill him now. He could not deal with that deranged madman today. His whole body was revolting against him at the moment. Even his thoughts staggered and rolled like a drunken sailor onboard a ship. Why was everyone talking so loudly? Was it even possible for sound to hurt this much?
Of course, because the universe hated him and despised him since birth, the feminine voice began shrieking and flailing about on the bed. The hammers striking against his brain with each heartbeat magnified their strength, as if wielded by gods themselves. He groaned loudly, digging the heels of his hands into his forehead, wishing death on everyone who dared to make a single sound.
Finally, when he could not take her wordless panicking anymore, he rolled over (his stomach reminding him of the physical revolt it was currently throwing) and slapped his hand harshly over the woman's mouth.
"Shut up!"
After a moment, he could feel her give a slight nod and only then did he release her. With that, he finally opened his eyes. The morning light blazed through the window, the curtains fully drawn back allowing maximum light into the room. His eyes slammed shut once more, refusing to suffer another level of torture.
"Fucking sadists." He mumbled, pressing his face back into his damp pillow. He must have spoken loud enough because that signature giggle followed his statement, sending another wave of pain shooting through his brain.
Fingers abruptly started running through his hair and down his bare back. An attempt at soothing him but instead it did the opposite. His body stiffened and his fists clenched even as he laid face down on the bed.
"Don't touch me." He hissed through clenched teeth.
The fingers stilled.
Carefully he tilted his head and peeked over at the woman beside him. What he saw made him immediately regret it and curse his subconscious desires. She had brown hair that most likely had been straightened last night but was now sleep-tousled, with hints of curls returning. The mascara and eye shadow around her blue eyes was smudged. Full lips sat under a small, straight nose.
Wordlessly, Ivar turned away from her and felt his heart crack at the sight. He knew what it was and hated what his drunk self had done. With just that single glance, he knew his drunk self had chosen her for the faint similarities she had with Kari. Apparently his subconscious would only bring someone like her into his bed now. Gods, what was fucking wrong with him?
"Get out."
"What?" She questioned softly, her hand still on his shoulder.
He turned his head to glare at her. "Fucking leave."
"But baby…you said last night that you needed me. You made me promise to stay."
And there was the knife twisting in his gut, but he ignored the pain. He needed her and her irritating touch gone. He needed to wallow in his pain alone and without someone to remind him of his mistakes. Why the fuck would his drunk self pick her? What kind of masochist was he?
He closed his eyes, no longer willing to look at her. Someone that would never fulfill the throbbing ache in his chest. "Leave or I'll gut you."
He could sense the warring within her, the confusion and hesitation, and he wondered what else he had blathered at her about last night. What lies and promises had he spewed at her, even if it was truly another person those words were meant for.
"I suggest you go. I'm not in the mood to clean up blood today." Another bodiless voice said from somewhere in the room.
Ivar turned his head towards the voice but kept his eyes closed. "Hvits?"
"Morning, brother."
"Ugh. Fuck you."
His brother's answering chuckle made Ivar want to stab someone. Repeatedly.
The bed began to shift as the Kari look-alike started to get out, but when she tugged on the blanket to cover her nakedness, Ivar yanked the blanket back. He heard the quiet, surprised gasp but there was no remorse in him. She could parade naked down to the lobby for all he gave a shit. Shuffling and footsteps followed a clicking of what he assumed was the bathroom door.
"Here, you ungrateful bastard. Move that ass."
Ivar rolled over and carefully sat up. The room spun like a carnival ride and he held his head for a long moment, swearing and cursing amidst the pain. Once he was able to overcome the rising nausea, he accepted the water and pills, knowing he needed them since he doubted the two intruders would leave him alone anytime soon. Damn them.
As he sipped on the water, the bathroom door opened. The woman came out, wearing a maroon dress that looked like someone had taken artistic license to while wielding a knife. She met his eyes, holding one black heel. But whatever she was hoping for, Ivar refused to give her. He slid his gaze away from her, focusing straight ahead and the ugly artwork in the hotel room he found himself in. What hotel was this? It did not look familiar. He heard her scoff and her footsteps move towards the door.
"Hvitserk, help her out." The asshole said, who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Sure."
After the door closed, a pregnant silence fell on the two left in the hotel room. Ivar continued to sip on the water, staring straight ahead. The throbbing in his head felt relentless and his body ached as if he had gone a few rounds in the boxing ring. He thought about asking for someone to close the curtains, but his companion began speaking and it overshadowed his internal pain.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I lost my daughter in the woods?" Floki quietly asked.
Ivar's ears perked up, even as he kept staring forward. Floki hardly talked about his only child. Ivar had vague memories of her, influenced by his own young age since they were born a year apart. But he could never forget how at four years old she had died from leukemia. One of his earliest solid memories was watching Floki silently weeping as he cradled a hysterical Helga to his chest, his eyes never straying from the pyre he had built for his daughter's body.
Without waiting for Ivar's answer, he continued. "Hmmm….it was one of the few times she wasn't in the hospital. She was like her mother, always wanting fresh flowers, listening to the birds' sing, smiling at the sun. It was…" He sighed, and Ivar could hear the pain and regret in the man's voice.
"I needed a new tree for a boat and I promised she could come with me. She was so small for her age, so fragile. I got distracted…found the perfect tree and was measuring it. But that was long enough for her to wander off. The panic I felt, Ivar, I can't tell you the complete goddamn terror I experienced as I tried to find my little girl. When she didn't reply as I screamed her name…I thought she'd–" This time he shook his head. "I finally found her, watching birds in the trees above. I scolded her severely, made her cry, but then I hugged her like my life depended on it. I'll never forget the terror I felt that day. Even though it's been over twenty years and she's been gone just as long. I'll never forget." The last sentence came out in a whisper, an audible ode to the harrowing event.
The next several seconds passed in silence before Ivar broke it. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Do you know what day it is, Ivar?"
"What? Why does that fucking matter?"
Floki reached out his long arm and swatted the side of Ivar's head. "Because you selfish, crippled bastard, you've been missing for thirty hours."
"The fuck–'"
"Ivar, listen," Floki interrupted before Ivar could question the validity of the statement. "The gods may have taken my daughter but they gifted me you as a son. And the fear I felt when Hvitserk told me he couldn't find you and you weren't answering your phone…I should beat your ass. I'm too old to deal with this shit anymore."
Ivar sat mutely, his mind reeling with everything Floki had said. How could he be missing for that long? That made no sense. He remembered going to the club with Hvitserk and his brother bringing him the chosen poison and deliverance he had practically begged for. Then there was a girl with blue eyes….or were they green? He could vaguely recall, like looking through a cloudy window, talking with someone about how they had more of the good stuff at their apartment. He remembered huge tits in his face and a woman moaning his name above him.
He glanced down at his right hand, seeing the cast on it still. There were new drawings and several phone numbers on it now from a bright silver marker. Why could he not remember any of that? When did he arrive at the hotel? What kind of shit had he been on?
Logically, he knew Floki had every right to scold him. It was a miracle it was not Ragnar himself chastising him. All the Lothbroks knew that with their rise in power and business accomplishments, it also painted a target on their backs for any that would seek to undermine or destroy them. For one of them to go missing…that would become paramount. Everything else would screech to a staggering halt until the missing person was returned. And for it to be him…with the vast wealth of information and security locked away in his mind. It could easily eradicate the company and their family if that knowledge was given to the wrong person.
As if sensing where Ivar's thoughts led, Floki softly spoke. "Your father doesn't know. He thinks you've been holed up at home. Hvitserk came to me."
A whoosh of air expelled from his lungs, draining the staggering concern and stress that had momentarily crashed over him. "Thanks." He murmured.
"I know you're hurting. You can't deny what my old eyes see. So I've one question for you…what in the hel are you doing, boy?"
"What are you–"
Floki swatted his head again. "Have you numbed the pain? Do you feel better now?"
"Fuck off. You don't know–"
"And that's where you're wrong again, foolish child. I do know." He leaned forward, forcing Ivar's gaze to meet his, the bed shifting under the movement. "What happened with Kari? I drove you there, if you can even remember. I didn't push you then, but I think I damn well deserve an answer. Saved your dumbass from punching through the bag and now this….what happened?"
Ivar flinched but knew the father of his heart was correct. Especially with it just being the two of them, he knew he could speak freely. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words stuck there. What agony he had tried to temporarily escape flooded him. Wave after wave slammed into his chest, especially with the reminder that even drunk and high, he still craved her. Waking up to find someone not her beside him. The pounding in his head was subsiding but now his heart took the brunt of the pain.
Ripping his gaze away from Floki's, he stared down at the empty cup in his hand. His thoughts and memories swirled and clashed, like an intricate swordplay. But those edges were live and sharp, cutting and slashing at him with every pass. Her face, tears trickling down her cheeks. The fear and pain in her eyes. The mark he left on her. The self-loathing that threatened to shatter his control. The desperate need to forget and escape. Pain and blood. Gods, he has fucked up.
Why did he always fuck everything up?
"She said she needed time." He whispered. "She said….fuck– I can't remember everything, but she didn't want to see me. She said….she knows I'm sorry but she still needed time." His eyes blurred, tears welling in them, as he finally looked back up at his companion. Thick emotion choked his throat, making it hard to speak. "What if she…Floki, I can't lose her. I can't–"
Floki gathered Ivar into his arms and just held him as he cried. The youngest Lothbrok could not remember the last time someone held him as he cried like this, his body quivering with the sobs ripped from his very soul. Most likely his mother or Floki, but that would have been years ago. For he had learned to wrap himself in his anger, allowing his fury to be the suit of armor needed to protect him from the world and all the ways it attempted to rend him apart.
But then she walked into his life, with her soft curves, kind heart and ability to see past all his barriers, to see past the thorns and thistles wrapped around his blackened heart, to hear the faint beating there, and to cherish its sound. For her to choose him, to want him for simply being Ivar.
He was undone by her. And yet, he had never felt more powerful and happy than when he was with her.
Eventually his tears subsided, draining him completely. He leaned back against the headrest of the bed as Floki went to refill his water cup. His body still ached, his stomach unsteady and his head hurt from the hangover and from the crying. It felt like someone had stuck a hose in him and sucked all the vitality out of him, leaving him a dry husk of who he should be, or rung out like a rag and tossed onto the floor to be trampled.
Floki handed over the new cup of water, settling back onto the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, Ivar drank it slowly, even as he suppressed the urge to just chug it. He was not that stupid. It would most likely come back up. And he despised the taste of vomit.
Of course, the old man delved into a new level of cruelty. Instead of sitting silently and allowing Ivar time to recover, he resumed speaking.
The asshole.
"How do you think Kari would feel if she found you like this? Hmmm?" He asked thoughtfully, as if they were speculating about the weather. "Think she'd take your ass back seeing you hungover like this? Or hearing about all the women you apparently fucked? Hmmm? Why should she want you after this?"
Shame rolled in his gut, rising with the nausea he could taste in the back of his throat. "She doesn't want me anymore."
Floki swatted his head again. "Damn foolish boy, can't see past his own nose."
"Stop fucking hitting me." Ivar growled.
"Oh, I'll hit you enough times until you start using that brain of yours." Floki leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, a calculating look in his eyes as he observed the dark-haired Lothbrok. "You want her back?"
Ivar furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?"
"You still want her, yes?"
"What kind of dumb, fucking question is that? She's the reason I–"
"Yes or no, Ivar."
"Yes!" Ivar threw the cup, hearing it hit the nearby wall but kept his gaze locked on Floki's, a tension swirling around them like a rising tide. "Fuck! Yes, I need her! Gods, I miss her so much it hurts!"
"Good." Floki nodded. "You want her back. Now prove it."
"But she said…"
"Yes, yes, she needs time. That doesn't give you the excuse to fuck off and be a disaster. She could still choose you…." Floki's calculating gaze intensified, immediately making Ivar uneasy, "....but not if you're like this. I'll keep her away from you myself if you keep this shit up."
"You wouldn't."
Floki giggled. "Think I won't? I might not know her well, but I do know she deserves better than this." He accused, gesturing to Ivar.
And he was right.
Fuck.
Ivar had always known Kari deserved better than someone like him. She was too pure. Too good. She was the bright, summer sunshine and he was the devastating, dark storm waiting on the horizon. And now…gods, would she even look at him if she knew the self-destruction he had spiraled into because he could not handle her loss? The potential of her rejection. Would she pity him? Would she become even more fearful of him? Would she hate him?
Would she feel betrayed if she knew he had picked someone that looked like her to blindly fuck in a drunken attempt to alleviate his misery? Shit…she would probably never speak to his sorry ass again. And why should she? He had raged at her when hearing she had gone out on a date and here he had been fucking any woman he could.
Why would she want him now? What goddamn right did he had to demand of her loyalty if he could not give his own?
And yet he still wanted her. Still needed her. Would do whatever it took to win her back. To prove how much she meant to him. Even after all the shit he had done. It was still her he thought of constantly, that he wanted by his side, that he wanted to talk to and listen to her laugh, that he wanted to kiss and hold and make love to. Even if fucking was the only thing he knew. He wanted to learn how to make love with her. Floki said to prove it. But how? And the answer to that eluded Ivar.
Slowly, Ivar shifted his gaze back to meet the piercing eyes watching him. He sighed quietly before speaking. "What do I do?"
Floki studied him for a long moment before smiling. "You're coming home with me to Norway. Helga has been asking when you're coming to stay and I want you to see my new boat."
Ivar thought about it then shrugged. "Fine." It was probably the best place for him at the moment anyway.
"Yeah, you ungrateful bastard. I'd drag your ass there anyway. My Helga always gets what she wants."
"You're whipped, Floki."
"Yeah, so are you."
Ivar groaned at the shit-eating grin on Floki's face but could not deny it. Not this time. With all his confessions and actions, it would be futile to try and deny it.
Pushing himself off the bed, Floki started to search around the hotel room. "Where's your clothes, boy?"
"Stop calling me that."
"When you stop acting like a spoiled brat, I will."
"Fuck off."
"No, we've got a plane to catch and I highly doubt you can walk a straight line."
"Fuck me." Ivar groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes in resignation while Floki's giggles filled the room.
It took some time for Floki to locate all of Ivar's things. Thankfully, Ivar still had his pants on. Not that it surprised him. Even drunk and high, apparently his subconscious still was overly aware of the state of his mangled legs and did not want others to see them. Amidst copious amounts of swearing, Floki plying him with an excessive amount of water, and only one trip to the bathroom to puke up half of the contents of his stomach, the two of them finally made it out of the hotel.
The morning sunlight burned Ivar's eyes as he stepped outside, refueling the hammering in his head. Squinting, he could see Hvitserk standing just off to the side of the door, smoking a cigarette. Without a word, he moved to join his brother.
"You look like shit." Hvitserk greeted him. "Smell like sex and vodka."
Ivar took the offered cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling it curl in his lungs. "It's an improvement over what you always look like."
His brother snorted, taking the cigarette back. "Here." He handed over a pair of sunglasses.
With a nod of thanks, Ivar slipped them on gratefully.
"Don't ever pull this shit again. I was worried." Hvitserk stated as he handed the cigarette back over.
"I know. I think Floki will kill me if I do."
"Slowly and painfully!" The asshole yelled out from where he stood a few paces away on the phone.
Hvitserk chuckled while Ivar rolled his eyes.
"You good?"
Ivar thought about his answer, about all the revelation he had received up in the hotel room and what all Floki had said to him. He answered softly, "I will be."
Hvitserk hummed. "Might want to get tested soon. The number of girls who sucked your cock at the club….if I wasn't so pissed at you, I'd say you deserve an award. Then you fucked off when I walked away and I couldn't fucking find you."
Ivar smirked, as he finished off their now shared cigarette, dropping the butt to the ground and watching Hvitserk step on it.
The three of them loaded up in Hvitserk's car and headed towards the brothers' house. Head against the window, eyes closed during the drive, Ivar listened to Floki's words replay over and over in his mind. How could he 'prove it'? What did that even mean?
He decided to analyze that more later when he was not hungover and exhausted.
Once they finally made it back to the house, Ivar trudged to his room, ignoring the sounds of his family. What in the hell were they doing here in the late morning? Making a quick side trip to vomit once more then pop some strong pain pills he kept in his bathroom, he grabbed a few essentials from his room to bring with him to Floki's.
Over the years, one of the spare bedrooms in Floki's house had become Ivar's since he spent so much time with them, especially as a child. It was the only place Aslaug would allow her youngest to go without her ever-watchful eyes on him. With the frequency and duration of time spent there, it had become easier to leave a decent amount of clothing and other personal belongings to await his return.
With a backpack slung over his back, he grabbed his cane and his computer bag. That would be sufficient for now. If he needed something later, it would not be hard to have his father or brothers deliver it to him.
Voices coming from the kitchen drew his attention and he headed that way after exiting his bedroom. He could hear Ubbe arguing with someone and mild shock spilled over him to hear Gyda. What the fuck was she doing here? And who the hell pissed her off so badly? However much she tried not to associate with the Lothbrok business and keep herself clear of all that entailed, she was certainly a Lothbrok through and through. Her temper alone was evidence of that.
Stepping into the kitchen, he could see Gyda squaring off to Ubbe, hands on her hips and tension coating every inch of her body. Ubbe stood meeting her gaze head-on, arms over his chest. Hvitserk and Floki stood off to the side, seemingly watching the verbal sparring take place with no intention to intervene. Of course, Hvitserk had food in his mouth, one of his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.
Hearing his footsteps and cane tapping as he entered the room, all eyes focused on him. Before he could question what was going on, the tall, blonde female practically flew across the room to shove him. It was only through sheer instinct and luck that he managed to only stumble backward and not lose his balance, having to drop his computer bag to reach out for a nearby wall to steady himself.
"What the fu–"
"If you lay a finger on Kari again, I swear I will castrate you…" Gyda spat through gritted teeth with a vengeful fire blazing in her eyes. "...and then I'll cut off all your fingers, one by one. I don't give a single fuck that you're family. You hurt her again, I WILL come for you. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Ivar slowly enunciated, fury boiling in his chest at her threats. But for once, he kept his anger in check.
"Good." She took a step back, hands returning to her hips. It was now she eyed him critically, as if seeing him for the first time. "Holy hell, you do look like shit. I'm still pissed enough I'll beat your sorry ass with your own cane though."
"Gyda, leave him alone, alright?" Ubbe said, coming around the large kitchen island. "You delivered your message, that's enough now."
Any other time, Ivar might have sneered at Ubbe attempting to be the peacemaker in the family, like always. But right now, he was too exhausted, too heartsore, too grateful for his older brother stepping in to say anything. It was taking all the miniscule strength he barely possessed to not lash out at Gyda, even if a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Gyda was only standing up for her friend. He met Ubbe's eyes for a moment, hoping he could see the thanks in them before dropping his eyes to his cane in hand.
Floki came over to his side, picking up the dropped computer bag. "Ready?"
He just silently nodded. The frustration and anger coiled and burned in his chest but he bit his tongue for once. Gyda had every right to be pissed at him. Part of him wondered who told her about what happened between him and Kari.
Without a word, Ivar started towards the front door, Floki by his side. The two of them were almost to the door when Hvitserk called out his name, drawing closer.
"Don't stab me, but I'm going to hug you." Hvitserk quickly informed him before doing exactly that. And to both of their astonishment, Ivar readily reciprocated the hug. Neither of them acknowledged the tight grip Ivar had on Hvitserk's shirt, as if in that moment, his brother's touch was the only thing keeping him from crumbling.
"I'll keep an eye on her. I promise." Hvitserk whispered, pulling back enough to press his forehead against his youngest brother's.
"Thanks." Ivar murmured, although it came out more as a strangled croak.
Emotions rising and warring inside him, alongside the unrelenting hangover, he trudged towards the car waiting outside for them. Seeing which driver it was waiting for them, Ivar was thankful it was one that preferred silence instead of background music. Minutes later, they were on the road, heading to the airport and the private Lothbrok plane waiting for them there.
With eyes closed once again, he could not tear his thoughts away from Kari. Not after Hvitserk's comment.
He wondered what she was doing. Was she working today? Had her cramps gotten better? What was she thinking about? Did she miss him yet? It was now he realized how much he looked forward to their conversations, even if it was just over texting. She always made him smile somehow. His own personal sunshine amidst the dark clouds and storm that was his life. His kitten. Did he brighten her day as much as she did his?
An idea popped into his mind and without overthinking it for once, he acted on it.
Less than five minutes later, a bouquet of tulips was on its way to her with his message.
He turned the screen off his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. Gods, he prayed she liked the flowers. She had said they were her favorite. She would be less likely to toss them in the garbage then, right? Fuck. He hoped she liked the gesture, that it brightened her day.
Floki's advice still swirled in his mind, like a maelstrom. Kari had told him to stay away, that she needed time. He could– no, he would honor that. She needed space from him. And she deserved it. But that did not mean he was going to let her go. Fuck that shit. He needed her. He silently swore to himself to do everything possible to show her how sorry he was for his actions and how much he missed her.
To prove how much she meant to him.
*****
Ivar stared out at the gorgeous scenery spread out before him like a painting masterpiece. The steep walls of the Norwegian fjord rose above the glittering blue river. The trees appeared ablaze with what was left of autumn's colors, transforming summer's green to something warmer. A deception to the present chill in the air, a taste of the coming winter. He could practically feel the impending cold in his bones.
His thoughts though were miles away from the picturesque scenery before him. He tapped his phone absent-mindedly against his leg with his left hand, since his right was still in its cast. Which was thankfully back to its original black and without random phone numbers in it. It had only taken a call to the local hospital to have them willing to redo his cast without any questions. One of the many times Ivar appreciated how easily he could use his name to bypass regulations and rules.
"Did you decide yet?"
"Yeah." A small smile turned up the corners of his lips. "I ordered the Armani sweater and Dior jacket."
Helga settled onto the wooden Adirondack chair next to Ivar's, her blonde hair catching in the faint breeze. "I bet she'll love them."
"Hopefully."
"Of course she will." She leaned over, whispering conspiracingly. "Think Floki will buy those for me?"
He chuckled. "If he doesn't, I will."
Laughing, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I've missed having you here. Even if most of the time, you've been holed up in your room on your laptop."
He rolled his eyes at her pointed look. "I've been working."
"I know. Floki told me. I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping."
His brows pinched together as he tried to figure out how she knew that. Helga typically turned in early and rose with the dawn, quite opposite of Ivar who was a night owl. Aware of that, he made sure to be as quiet as possible when moving around the house, not wishing to disturb her or Floki when he finally retired for the night. At that point, he usually returned to his room but would remain awake for hours more, face illuminated by his computer or phone as he worked feverishly. If he let his mind wander freely too much, it would descend into solemn depths, he would rather avoid.
"Floki told me. He hears you moving around–"
"That asshole never sleeps either." Ivar muttered.
"--and those bags under your eyes are looking like you got into Floki's 'war paint'."
He smirked as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. "If I hide it again, what do you think he'll do?"
"Knowing what happened last time you stole it and drew penises all over the side of his shed….gods, what were you? Fifteen?" She shook her head, unable to fully restrain the amused, fond smile on her face, highlighting the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.
He grinned mischievously. "I was thirteen, but it was all Hvitserk's idea though."
"Uh huh. I highly doubt that."
The door opening had both of them turning their heads to see Floki stepping out onto the back deck. He stepped out in his usual brown pants and dark, long-sleeve shirt, the tattoos on the sides of his head clearly visible. He must have finished shaving his head before coming out. Ivar silently wondered if Floki and Helga even noticed anymore that their attire always seemed to match in some way. Today, Floki's shirt was a dark, forest green, the color matching Helga's dress, even as it was covered in a floral design. Maybe they were so in tune with one another by this point in their decades long marriage, it was instinctual or unconscious.
A stray thought drifted through Ivar's mind, questioning if Kari and himself would ever be like that….he quickly brushed it away.
"He lives!' Floki gestured towards Ivar as he came closer. "I thought you'd finally died from glaring at your laptop. Save us all from your complaining and moaning. I was preparing to drag your crippled, scrawny ass down and throw you in a funeral boat."
"Like an old, fat fucker like you could carry me."
"Ivar, language!" Helga chastised.
"You see the abuse I have to deal with, min skatt?" Floki plopped on the arm of Helga's chair, wrapping his arm around her and faux pouting. "And I even shared my Brennivín with him."
She poked his side, making him giggle. "You just wanted an excuse to open the new bottle."
He hummed, noncommittally, before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to his wife's lips.
Ivar dropped his gaze to his lap. Not because he was uncomfortable with their displays of affection, but because it made his heart ache. He had that and he fucked it up. He had someone to hold and kiss and tease, but he allowed himself to become blinded by perceived betrayal instead of trusting her. Someone who had only ever been genuine and selfless with him.
It was almost a week and a half since he destroyed whatever it was that was blooming between them, something he had never experienced before but craved now with every cell in his deformed body. Six days had passed since he arrived in Norway with Floki.
He had not heard from his kitten since she had texted him in thanks about the food he ordered when he found her on the couch. He could not think about it too much or he knew he would drive himself mad again. The gaping hole in his chest still bled her name, weeped with missing her touch.
He appreciated Floki returning home with him. There was a peace here, tucked away in the woods outside Kattegat, that he had never found anywhere else. Not even in his childhood house in the city. Maybe it was the location? Maybe it was the two people who filled it with pieces of themselves and transformed it from a house to a home? Whatever it was, Ivar was grateful to be here.
The only problem was the silence at night that pursued him. His demons of regret, self-loathing and insecurity stalked him in the darkness, wrapping their claws around his throat to strangle whatever buds of hope tried to blossom in his cheat.
So he threw himself into his work. Ignoring his body screaming for sleep until he passed out from exhaustion or drinking with Floki. He continued to monitor the traitorous fucker, further tightening the strings of his web until soon it would bind the turncoat and keep him immobile.
Then Ivar had lethal plans.
Until then, he kept an eye on other endeavors for Ragnar. Both for the company and off the books, anything to keep his mind busy. More often than not, he would work through the night, not even aware of the sun's arrival until he checked the time. Yet she still invaded his mind with frequency. It certainly did not help that third day, he had drunkenly proclaimed to Floki and Helga, he would send flowers to Kari every day until she took him back.
Floki had laughed.
Helga had sighed then leaned forward and told him to stop sending flowers and send something meaningful.
So far, he had no intentions of ceasing his array of offerings. But he had hoped….wished that by now, she would have texted him. At least thanked him for some of the presents. All he had gotten was radio silence. It burned like ice held against his skin for too long. A permanent chill took up residence in his chest, tightening its grasp on him with each passing day.
He knew she had received the packages. He was notified every time something was delivered but he also had a contact keeping an eye on her for him. Would she never speak to him again if she learned that she was being watched and followed? Most likely. But she already was giving him the silent treatment and he could not with good conscience allow her to be unprotected. He might not be around anymore but that did nothing to lessen his compelling need to keep her safe.
Hvitserk text him frequently, sometimes making a passing comment about how Kari was doing since he checked in with her often. Hearing the snippets of their conversations was both a knife to the chest, twisting and further ripping at his heart but also a cooling balm. To hear she was doing alright and she did not hate his family nor him. That she really did just need time to think.
But how much time? How much longer could he keep waiting? Why would she not just fucking talk to him? Yell at him. Scream until his ears bled. Break one of his bones to help her feel better. Gods, he would let her do anything if it would create a bridge over the void between them.
He just wanted to know if she thought of him as often as his thoughts turned towards her.
Sighing, he glanced down at his phone in his hand, bombarded with alerts and notifications but not from the one person he wanted.
Should he text her? Was it up to him to open that door of communication? But she said she needed time….why was all of this so damn confusing? Why did he have to fuck everything up in the first place?
"I'll go start on dinner." Helga announced, standing up. "Ivar, you should order those books for her next. That was a good idea."
He nodded silently, sending her a small, grateful smile.
After Helga left, the two men sat in the quietness of nature, gazing out over the water and fjord of Norway. A comfortable silence hovered over them.
Suddenly, Ivar's phone started ringing, startling him. With a raised brow, he unlocked the screen and brought the phone to his ear.
"What?"
"How's that vacation of yours?"
"Fuck off."
His father chuckled darkly before clearing his throat and turning serious. "Think you're sober enough to deal with our traitor?"
Ivar tensed, even as his stomach flipped and his fingers twitched in anticipation. "When?"
"Two days."
"Where?"
"Istanbul."
"Good."
Ragnar hummed thoughtly then continued. "He still has no notion we are aware of his activities, correct?"
Ivar snorted. "That goddamn fucker tried to send out information about your supplier in Libya…which does Bjorn even know about this supplier?"
"Not a fucking word, Ivar."
"Yeah, figured." Ivar scoffed, his hand tapped repetitively on his knee as his mind raced. "I'll leave tomorrow. Get everything ready there."
"Excellent. Tell Floki I need him next week."
"Sure."
The click on his phone notified Ivar that his father was no longer on the line and had not even attempted to end the call with a 'goodbye'. Like normal.
"Ragnar needs you next week." Ivar said, leaning back once again in his seat. Weeks of work, weeks of pouring through files and coded messages while digging deeper and deeper into the mire of corruption and betrayal. All of it would finally come into the light. All his hard work would showcase the snake he had caught, slithering through the henhouse. If only it had known Ivar was the bigger predator, with long-reaching claws and limitless resources.
"Hmmm….and what's got you so happy?" Floki asked, breaking Ivar from his thoughts.
He had not even realized a menacing smile covered his lips. Chuckling darkly, he could almost taste the spilled blood on his tongue. He stared straight ahead as he answered Floki, his gaze no longer seeing the fjord but a dark room where justice would be served. "My web has entangled a snake. And now it's time to rip its fangs out and watch it scream as I bleed it dry."
Tag List:
Vikings (all)
@youbloodymadgenius @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @adrille88 @quantumlocked310 @errruvande-2-0
To Call Forth Love
@heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @ecarroll1978 @breezykpop @avoidanceishowiroll @maggyme13 @that-virgo-witch @cdauni @istorkyou @smears-and-spotss @resichen2406 @jessi-lynn-h @heathengurrrl71 @harleyquinn3289 @ivarlover @complicatedbutrare
Vikings-Ivar
@breezykpop @frankie-undead-dame
#mz writes#to call forth love#vikings fanfiction#vikings fandom#vikings fanfic#vikings#vikings ivar#ivar#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#modern ivar#modern!ivar x oc#ivar the boneless x oc#ivar romance#hvitserk lothbrok#hvitserk#floki the boat builder#floki#ubbe#gyda lothbrok#gyda
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This is the fourth entry for @vikingsevents Valentine's Week. The prompts were Misunderstanding and Best Friend. I'm a little bit late for it, but better late than never, right? xD Nothing worth of a warning in the fic, everything is just mentioned and not acted upon. Ragnar and his anger issues are its own warning lol. This really is just sort of a modern take of canon events with added spice. (1,4k fic under the cut)
"Jesus!" Ragnar exclaimed after entering the kitchen. He had a feeling that something wasn't right once he made it through the front door, but had been too tipsy to care. He swayed in place and then leaned against the wall near the door. When those taxing eyes took in his miserable state, Ragnar hid his face by rubbing it with both hands. Desperately willing the drunkenness away.
"Not quite," Floki responded belatedly and Ragnar could hear the slow smile forming on his friends lips. "Where have you been?" He asked and from the sounds of it, kicked the chair out from the kitchen table to invite Ragnar to sit. "I had to wait for hours."
Ragnar sucked on his teeth noisily and pushed himself off the wall, finally looking at his old friend properly. He was dressed in the same suit he wore when he got arrested. "No one asked you to," he told him and sat down opposite of him. "Why are you here?" Ragnar squinted his eyes in suspicion. He hadn't seen Floki since the trial and hadn't planned on changing that. Especially not on this particular day, but here Floki was sitting at his table, with his crossed arms leaning on the surface.
"You are my friend, Ragnar," Floki replied sincerely, his hands now folded in front of his face, hiding the lower part efficiently. "I worried." He added sincerely, causing Ragnar to slap his hand onto the table with force.
"Do not lie to me," he pointed at Floki, his voice raised. The alcohol always made it easier to tap into his anger. It was one of the reasons Aslaug had left him. The thought of her only worsened his rage. She'd gone and took the boys with her. It hadn't been her intention to prevent Ragnar from seeing them, but when a judge had to decide how to split the time, Ragnar had been drunk out of his mind. That day, Aslaug got full custody without another chance for him to explain.
Floki's high pitched giggle sounded haughty and his friend looked away from him. "Everything I did was for you," he told Ragnar. "Everything."
It had his blood boil further and without a second thought Ragnar threw the little decorative plastic flowers Ecbert had gotten off the table with an enraged shout, the ceramic pot breaking into a thousand pieces as he stood. "You came into my house, you threatened my family!" Ragnar yelled, his breathing heavy. "You did it for yourself."
"Athelstan was not your family," Floki replied, his brows furrowed in similar anger. He wasn't quite on Ragnar's level, but he would get there easy enough. "He was a whore at best, playing footsie with you at the dinner table you shared with your wife."
Ragnar scoffed in disagreement. "Since when do you care about Aslaug?" He asked. "You knew she was fine with it, you-" he broke off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Why was Floki here on the anniversary of Athelstan's death? It didn't make sense to Ragnar. The Floki he knew had never trampled over his feelings like this. "Why are you here?" He asked again, this time Ragnar forced his voice to remain calm.
Slowly, his friend reached into the pocket of his jacket and then threw a silvery object onto the table. "It belongs to you." Floki told him and leaned back in the chair. So relaxed like he didn't kill the man Ragnar loved ten years ago. On further inspection he noticed that Floki had brought him the bracelet he'd given to Athelstan. He'd had a goldsmith make it shorter to stop it from falling off the other man's wrist. Ragnar would never be able to wear it again. Not that he wanted to.
With a slow nod Ragnar pushed the chair he'd sat on under the table. He needed to distance himself from Floki, or he would hurt him. "Thanks," he found himself saying. "Now fuck off," Ragnar added for good measure. "I don't want you here today."
Floki made no indication to move. He seemed to be oddly offended at Ragnar's dismissal. "Ten years is enough to grieve for a boy toy," he said and Ragnar knew he was deliberately cruel. His friend had been with him when he stumbled over Athelstan in their club. An anorexic little thing with daddy issues and a history of drug addiction. Ragnar later told Floki that Athelstan had been in a catholic school with many priests who had wandering hands. But he'd always lacked empathy where Athelstan was concerned and Ragnar knew that. Floki leaned forward to catch Ragnar's eyes. "I went to jail for you."
The sheer fury gleaming in Ragnar's eyes was too short a warning before he basically threw his hands onto the tabletop and towered over Floki. His breath was coming in short puffs. "I did not ask you to! You were supposed to tell the truth." Ragnar said the last bit through his teeth.
"Thirty years for you, or ten for me," Floki replied, "Easy choice." He said and Ragnar knew he was right. He'd already been on parole and if the cops had found his many, many firearms and not so small amounts of drugs at his house, he'd be locked away for most of his remaining life. So Floki admitted it was him who evaded the taxes of the club they owned and they found nothing at Floki's place– he was smart enough to stash it somewhere else entirely. Floki had gone to jail for fraud alone. His friend's eyes turned soft as he looked up at Ragnar, "I would do anything for you."
He was close to tears when he moved away from the table, only to round it and stand right in front of Floki. Ragnar hesitantly reached for his friend's face to hold it in both hands, gently stroking over his cheeks, "Then tell me why you killed Athelstan, hm?" He leaned down to press his forehead against Floki's temple and whispered, "Why?" Over and over before his hand moved up and got hold of Floki's almost hairless scalp, pulling it harshly back to force him to make eye contact. "Why?" Ragnar hollered at his friend who remained mute through it all.
"He was a junkie and overdosed," Floki told him calmly. Something that he had already heard from the police. "You knew it, I knew it– everyone! Not a single soul was shocked by it." He said, but his extensive blinking spoke against the truthfulness of his statement. Ragnar was aware of Athelstan's past, he'd even fucked with him on multiple occasions why they'd both been high.
Once more he invaded Floki's personal space, coming cheek to cheek with him. "I knew every part of his body, seen it all and I knew his mind," Ragnar said quietly, a strange threat lurking underneath. "He'd sworn off H months before his death… for me." Floki's eyes widened momentarily in realization. "He never would've overdosed."
It momentarily looked like his friend wanted to come clean, mumbling incomprehensibly until Ragnar moved away. "A misunderstanding, we fought," Floki said, the deranged giggle he let out sounded like he'd suppressed it for hours. "I hit him and he wanted to tell you."
"I don't believe you," Ragnar replied, once again urging Floki to tell the truth. "You lured him out of my house," and into a rundown place full of addicts. "I ask you one last time, why you did it." Ragnar tried again, but Floki shook his head, refusing to budge. "Was it jealousy?" He bluntly asked, causing Floki to become stock-still.
His friend exhaled a long breath before desperately inhaling. "You chose him," Floki said quietly, almost like he didn't want him to hear. "Over me," he added and met Ragnar's gaze steadily. "How could you?"
Something like sympathy creeped up inside Ragnar and he inclined his head a couple times in a slow and jerky movement. "You've been my best friend for all my life, Floki," he told him, the side of his face sticking to Floki's to speak directly into his ear. "You've known me longer than anyone else." He wished his friend had told him what he was going through, and maybe Athelstan would still be alive.
When he pressed a kiss to Floki's temple, his friend's hands pulled at the front of Ragnar's shirt and into an awkward hug. They lost ten years of their friendship, time they would never get back, but now he understood why Floki had lied for him, why he had hated Athelstan so much.
Envy was the death of all love.
#vikings#ragnar lothbrok#ragnar#floki vilgerðarson#floki#athelstan#prompt: misunderstanding#prompt: best friend#vtrash writes#vtrash edits#vikingslove#ragnar x athelstan#floki x ragnar#modern au#unrequited love#past relationships#mention of past drug addiction#vikingsevents
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@youbloodymadgenius
#vikings#modern au#Floki#Helga#Helga our queen#Ivar#Ivar the boneless#Ubbe#Sigurd#Sigurd Snake in the Eye#Björn#Björn Ironside#Hvitserk
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How would Vikings react to Ivar being remembered?
summary: it's in the title :)
notes: no warnings except for maybe mentions of death
tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy @esme-viridian (hmu to be added/removed!)
masterlist | based on this request
Ragnar
Pretends he always knew (eugh he’s such a bitch ong)
Nooo I would never set my son out in the wild… meeee? No wayyy…
He takes credit for it for his ‘great parenting’ and ‘legend genetics’
If Ivar had any legend genetics, they came from aslaug
Aslaug
Proudest mom out there, acts like a soccer/pta mom when she hears
Aslaug actually always knew
She quotes her prophetic dreams from like, 853 AD?
“I knew since I was five years old.” (truth)
Lagertha
Okay? Who cares? What about Bjorn?
Totally not pissed that he may be more famous than she is (lie)
Defo sulks about it to torvi and then kills someone important to expand her own legacy
She’s in the fame biz
Bjorn
Bro throws a toddler tantrum
He will literally stomp the ground
“That’s not fair, I discovered the Mediterranean!!” (he says that in the stupid tone he gets in the later seasons)
So so bitter about it (he deserves that)
Ubbe
Ubbe’s smoking weed in America with Floki
He does not care
“That’s just bad taste from people from the future. Me personally? I’d admire the person who found a continent. Idk, that’s just me though.”
Gets over it the fastest
Literally just thinks that it’s so dumb of modern people bc Ivar is a silly little guy with anger issues
Hvitserk
Similar reaction to Ubbe, except he doesn’t have to get over anything
Just kinda shrugs, he’s too busy worrying about his own legacy
What’s he in the history books for? His cuisine skills?
Yeah, bro’s kinda busy managing his own shit and trying to stay alive
Sigurd
Don’t tell him
For your own safety
Will kill you and then himself
Ivar
Don’t tell him either
Never lets anyone hear the end of it
So so so annoying for a silly little guy
He just loves and hates himself so much that, at the same time, he so needs to hear this and also never, ever hear this ever at all
Floki
Floki is the same as Aslaug, he KNEW
Also, he takes credit for raising ivar and being a father figure (fair enough)
He’s a teeny tiny bit sad that ivar was friends (in a weird homosexual way) with Alfred though (kind of, and this only applies if we’re talking about tv show Vikings)
Honestly, Floki would be such a good source to add to the material we have of ivar
Ecbert
So mad he didn’t have a bigger impact on ivar
Also so mad that all the kids around him have such big legacies (Alfred, ivar) but not him??
He wants to get mentioned!! Footnotes aren’t enough!! He needs to be the main character, always.
Gets sad drunk over it way too long
#ragnar#ragnar lothbrok#vikings#vikings tv#ivar#ivar x reader#ivar x you#hvitserk#hvitserk x you#hvitserk x reader#ivar ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader#aslaug#lagertha#bjorn#ubbe#sigurd#floki#ecbert#history vikings#ubbe x reader#ubbe ragnarsson#hvitserk vikings#hvitserk lothbrok#hvitserk ragnarsson#ivar lothbrok#ivar lothbrok x you#ivar lothbrok x reader
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A few personal thoughts concerning Marvel, and deity depictions in pop culture
I will first and foremost start by saying that when it comes to pop culture depictions of Loki, Floki Vilgerðarson seems a lot closer to the deity’s true character than Marvel’s Loki, in my opinion. It’s his laid-back mannerisms but cryptic nature that do it for me. For whatever reason, some pagans still like to establish parallels between Loki as a deity and the shallow depiction Marvel makes of him, though when you observe the two even remotely, they really have nothing in common. Still, pop culture will be pop culture, and we cant expect for non-pagan writers, scenarists and the like to depict deities in the same manner as we pagans would, for the reason that they simply don’t believe in these deities. A fictional work will have to forego certain ties to myth (in the case of Floki Vilgerðarson, symbolism that tie him with the deity Loki) for the sake of scenario.
Now, the major difference between these two depictions is their purpose, or base intent, and it’s what makes me to slightly prefer Vikings’ Floki as a deity depiction. The thing is, establishing a few parallels between him and the deity without ever clearly stating that he does embody the deity creates quite a subtle result. Members of the audience who are familiar with the norse myths will recognize right away that Floki serves as representation of this deity, while those who aren’t, perceive him simply as another character among the cast. In fact, one could observe that in many instances, Floki plays the same role within the narrative of Vikings as Loki within the myths. This makes for quite the interesting parallel and, by never clearly highlighting this symbolism, the show leaves Floki’s ties with Loki to interpretation. This, in my opinion, is quite the clever way to depict a deity. So much so that one could think the writers of the show were aware of neo-paganism as a modern practice. They treated Ragnar Lothbrok’s character in the same manner, often emphasizing his resemblance with Óðinn, but never truly asserting it.
On the other hand, in terms of purpose, Marvel’s Loki has never had any pretense of being even remotely close to the deity of the myths, which makes him a very wobbly inspiration for new pagans to picture Loki. Unfortunately, this seems to be a tendency which sticks on many social media platforms. Which is why I think a crucial step in research within the context of pagan belief is to entirely detach oneself from pop culture depictions. This might sound obvious, but I have often witnessed pagans base their opinions of deities upon pop culture, whether they’d been aware of it or not. For example, I have once seen someone tell me they wouldn’t ever respect Thórr or his worshippers, because he was, and I quote, a “prime example of toxic masculinity”. Which, to me, is quite contradictory, considering how his historical worship was more often than not centered around fertility of the crops and non-violent concepts. Plus, his role as a sort of “warrior” deity in the myths is far from unique. In fact, many norse deities have been depicted as warriors in the myths, and Thórr is far from alone in that matter. Hence, the idea of his “toxic masculinity” does seem to stem from pre-conceived ideas created by pop culture. Which is why as I’ve mentioned, it was extremely important on my spiritual journey that I draw a clear line between deities and their pop culture depictions, no matter how accurate, and no matter if the deities concerned were believed to appreciate these depictions.
It is, of course, easy to subconsciously associate a deity with their pop culture counterpart and it would be an impossible task to not find parallels between the two, especially if attention was given to respecting mythology. For this reason, I don’t and will never try to avoid tv shows, games or movies that depict the Gods. Enjoying such content is not disrespectful in the slightest, in my opinion. The name “God of Outcasts” has, for example, become commonplace in pagan circles despite having been created from scratch by Marvel, for Marvel’s Loki. In this case, however, I believe the name does no harm at all. In fact, it seems quite popular among pagans, so much so that many aren’t aware it even stemmed from pop culture. One could see the name as respectful of the myths and for this reason, I believe it’s entirely harmless for worshippers of Loki such as me to use it within their practices, as long as awareness is kept concerning the fact that his has little ties with historical practice. Such a practice is among the perks of neo-paganism being centered around the individual and their ability to nurture their own belief! The only hazard I find to be worrisome, when it comes to pop culture and its depictions of deities, is when one’s idea of a deity starts to blend with a fictional depiction, and when the fictional character starts to have precedence over the deity.
#personal#thoughts#paganism#norse paganism#mythology#norse mythology#deities#norse gods#spirituality#deity work#polytheism#heathenry#pop culture
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Modern!Athelstan headcanons but i’ll try to project as little as possible
doesnt really have many friends, by choice. he likes being alone. sometimes a bit too much.
he collects cool crosses/crucifixes he finds at thrift stores, has a whole wall dedicated to them
grew up in a rural area without the internet, hes learnt everything he knows from his mother’s library
started questioning his sexuality at 16 when he realized he was reading sport history books just to look at pictures of male athletes
gets flustered with anyone who shows him the tiniest bit of attention
undiagnosed autism (special interests are dead languages; latin, ancient greek, old norse, etc.)
a bit fucked up in the head actually but cant afford to go to therapy
^ he opens up to Lagertha about this while tipsy and she offers to pay for him. he starts crying on the spot
oh yeah LIGHTWEIGHT. two glasses of good wine and hes gone
unironically listens to gregorian chants while studying
has a license but refuses to drive because “its bad for the environment”
was vegetarian until Ragnar invited him to a bbq and he HAD to eat an hamburger cause Floki and Rollo kept staring at him
often talks in metaphors like a smartass just to piss Rollo off. will sometimes even make up words that “sound” latin and “quote” Seneca
has a mutt named Argo and a black cat named Bastet, of course theyre both rescues
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Ok SO I'm still not over my brainrot about a Vikings modern au about the Lothbrok fam inviting an unsuspecting Athelstan to their cabin in the mountains for the winter holidays and all kinds of antics ensue, BUT I want to kind of base it off the storyline of season 1, only in a much more lighthearted modernized way if that makes sense?? So nobody dies etc, but it's got these easter eggs that are sort of tongue in cheek references to what happens in the show idk i thought that would be fun.
It's in super early stages I haven't even started to draft yet, and it probably will take a while because I am Slow, but so far here are my ideas:
-Harraldson is Ragnar's boss, but in whatever place he works it looks like he'll probably end up in that position bc H is Losing Favour
- Athelstan is Bjorn and Gyda's babysitter, but he's been slowly getting closer to the family
- They have a cabin in Norway that belonged to Ragnar's parents (and it's REALLY cozy)
-Athelstan has been obsessively studying Norwegian in practice for visiting them, but they all just speak English around him so he ends up not having to use it (and this stresses him out because they Shouldn't Be Doing Anything For Him)
-He's a former foster kid who's now in university, he has a variety of Traumas that he never talks about
-Yes, Ragnar and Lagertha invite him into their bed on his first night visiting them
-They celebrate "Christmas" but like in a secular way and the longer Athelstan stays with him the more he realizes it's actually pretty much a modernized version of pagan Yule
-First time trying alcohol is at the cabin and entirely Ragnar's fault
-At New Year's they have a big party with a bunch of side characters and *somebody* slips Athelstan shrooms
-Ragnar is obsessed with the idea of cutting down a tree out in the woods to use as a Christmas tree & makes Athelstan go along with him
-(this leads to a tree almost falling on Ragnar and Athelstan panicking. Ragnar thinks it's hilarious.)
-Ragnar and Lagertha go into town at one point and think it'll be fine to leave him with the kids. It is, but he tries to make a pie to get them involved in something and almost burns down the kitchen (almost)
-Floki is a dude who lives permanently out in the mountains with his hippie girlfriend, nobody knows what he does for a living or how he ended up there, and nobody asks
Anyway. I'm slowly building this up and slowly losing my mind along the way. And hey, if anyone has ideas for this au feel free to add & I might just throw them in
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If Floki was born in the modern era he would listen to punk and alternative bands, and shop at Spencer’s and Hot Topic.
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Ivar & Children Part III ⎮Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU One-Shot [Ivar x F!Reader]
find the series masterpost here.
author’s note: much like what this holiday represents, we’re having the re-birth of Ink Drinker. yes, that sounded much better in my head.
content warnings: medical jargon, children getting hurt, Ivar and children
word count: 1000+ words
You recognize the address as soon as the report sings from the radio. Despite the nature of the call, you’re worried it’s actually Floki who has injured himself and not his son—and in the confusion the child called for the emergency response.
When you step into Floki’s home, Hvitserk is right on your six and you’re scanning for evidence of trauma that doesn’t seem to exist. Instead, Helga’s holding their youngest son, Apollo who has just reached his second birthday last week—your mind recalls the quick image of Ivar dancing with him to celebrate before he blows out his birthday candles. Apollo shirt was torn off in a rush and his chest is red—ruby red and you already know.
“I didn’t know he could reach the counter,” Helga nearly cries softly. “Next thing I knew he was wearing my tea,” She adds. “The pediatrician—”
“She told us to take him to the emergency room,” Floki says for her. “I knew this would be faster once I realized who was at work today,” He finishes, winking at you.
Apollo screams when your chief attempts to take a closer look at the burn.
“Let me try—coordinate with medical control, you know what’s going to happen,” You say.
“When did you become my boss?” He teases.
“When you hired me,” You joke back. “Apollo—it’s me, baby,” You say softly while you pull your mask down. “It’s Miss Y/N,” And the familiar voice calls the boy to calm slightly in your presence. “We’re just going to take a look at you tummy, Mommy and Daddy aren’t going anywhere, alright?”
“Floki, can you pack up some of his things?” Hvitserk asks. “I’ll pull vitals,”
“Do a manual heart rate,” You start, “On his back, there’s no room for it on his chest it’s too burnt—he’s not allergic to anything that you know of, Helga?” You ask and she nods.
“This is going to give your arm a real tight hug, alright?” Hvitserk says as he attaches the pediatric cuff. “Do you want to try to squeeze my hand just as hard? He then offers, holding up a gloved hand. Apollo reaches out quickly, grabbing the first two fingers and barrels down, despite the soft grip Hvitserk lets out a huff of improvised impression. “You’re a strong little man!”
“Breathing rate is high,” You mumble.
“Mine would be too!” Hvitserk says, “It’s scary when you hurt yourself. We have 110 on 72,”
“Little high, too,” You say. “Can you walk me through what happened, Helga?”
“I had my back turned just to grab the sugar—I didn’t even know he was able to reach that high and I had just taken the kettle off and poured a cup…next thing I knew he started screaming and I—I took his shirt right off,”
“He didn’t lose consciousness?”
“No, he just started screaming,”
“Nothing in his diaper?”
“No, that was the first place I looked too—it just got on his chest and on his one wrist—oh sweetheart I’m so sorry I should have known better—”
“Helga these things happen to all parents, this is how we learn,” Hvitserk says.
“Helga,” You start, “There’s not much we’re going to be able to do from our end. We can give him pain medication but he’s going to have to be air lifted to a burn center,” You say firmly. “Now, they’re going to put him in a burn dressing—for someone his age it’ll likely be a silver sulfadiazine suit or a biobrane dressing. From what I can see, it looks like a partial thickness burn, which is what we would prefer over a full thickness,”
“Phoenix is still in school—how far is the center?” Helga asks.
“A few hours away,” You start. “I’ll call Ivar,”
“Thank you,” She says to you. “I can’t think straight right now,”
*
When Ivar knocks on the door to the classroom, he’s greeted with the warm smile from Phoenix school teacher.
“His father called you?” Ivar asks.
“He did, Phoenix has not stopped talking about it since we told him,”
“Mr. Ivar!” Phoenix beckons. “It’s Mr. Ivar,” He says proudly to his teacher. Ivar kneels to his height before speaking:
“How about you and I go get something to eat?” Ivar suggests.
“Tacos?” The child requests.
“A man wise beyond his years,” Ivar hums, lifting Phoenix’s backpack onto his shoulder.
*
Ivar waits. In doing so, he watches the child before him inhale one taco after the other. He can hardly see Phoenix chewing. Finally, as his mouth slows, he peeks up at Ivar through eyes that match Floki’s perfectly.
“What did you do today, Mr. Ivar?” “Did you go to work?”
“No, no, I was off today. I talked to Y/N, and I talked to your mommy and daddy about Apollo,”
“Why?” Phoenix asks, Ivar takes in a breath and mentally prepares himself.
“Little brother got hurt, he’s with mommy and daddy at the doctors,”
“I hurted myself on my bike the other day,”
“Yes, I remember, and what happened?” Ivar asks.
“My knee was all red,”
“Little brother hurt himself with Mama’s tea. Remember how mama likes her tea each morning? And how Mr. Ivar drinks his coffee, and so does Y/N?”
“Daddy says Miss Y/N drinks coffee like it’s ‘going out of style’,” Phoenix replies, air quotes and all—it makes Ivar snort.
“Yes, well Apollo got the hot tea on himself, and on his chest. Do you know where your chest is?"
“Right here!”Phoenix replies. “And, here is my heart—mama says that’s where kindness comes from,”
“Mama’s right,” Ivar starts. “Now, do you remember when Mr. Ivar was at the doctor’s office after he hurt his legs?”
“Daddy said not to touch them,”
“That’s what it’s going to be like for Apollo—we have to make sure we don’t touch where he hurt himself because it’s going to be sore—just like your knee when you fell off your bike. Now, I was thinking maybe we could draw a picture for little brother, so he can feel better when he’s home?”
“Mr. Ivar?”
“Yes, little man?”
“Is Apollo going to be alright?”
“He’s going to be just fine—Miss Y/N and Mr. Hvitty made sure of it,”
“He got to go in the am-bu-wance?” Phoenix gasps. “I went in one when we saw them at the school!”
“He did,” Ivar replies, leaving out the part where he was also air lifted in the helicopter, because he knows that Phoenix will be asking you for that for the next year once he finds out.
As Phoenix makes sure to leave no crumb behind, Ivar peaks down at his phone to see your message:
All set at the hospital, see you tonight xo
“Ready for the art store?” Ivar asks.
“Can we get a taco to go, for later?” Phoenix asks.
Tags:
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*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*
full masterlist can be found here.
#vikings#viking au#modern vikings#modern vikings au#ivar#ivar au#modern ivar au#ivar ragnarsson#modern ivar ragnarsson#ivar lothbrok#modern ivar lothbrok#ivar lothbrok fanfiction#vikings fanfiction#vikings floki#modern floki#floki#floki au#hvitserk lothbrok#Hvitserk#hvitserk au#modern hvitserk#ivar x you#ivar x reader#modern ivar x you#modern ivar x reader#— i am i am i am. ( my writings & creations )
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ragnarxlodbrok:
6, 34.
6 - DID THEY FEEL REJECTION OR LOVE AS A CHILD?
Well, Athelstan also had four brothers and one sister as siblings. His parents could not afford another child and so they placed him into a monastery, but it was not out of spite or abandonment; they wanted to save him and/or wished him a better life. This was a time of poverty, and illness like the plague was here. They did not have the medicine in now modern times to combat that illness -- of the black death. He did feel somewhat loved, regardless of the circumstances ( i think? i need to re-watch s1 scenes where he talks about his family -- he talks briefly about his family once as he cares for the chickens in the farm and wears a light green shirt) & he definitely eventually found love with Christ at the monastery over the years.
34 - DOES YOUR CHARACTER FEEL SELF RIGHTEOUS? REVENGEFUL? CONTEMPTUOUS?
Initially, he does feel superior to the Pagans (albeit doubt is starting to plant in his mind about God), and believes there is only one God and thinks them as heathens. There are passages in deuteronomy saying to abhor norse gods, of merciless christ, contrasted with a kinder one.
When he sees the Pagans burn his monastery down & kill his fellow monks & Father Cuthbert, he feels shock, fright and sorrow. It is not revenge he wants, but a burning need to get away from his kidnappers—trying desperately to draw strength from his cross & long-standing faith to see him through this. he is shivering as he sits on the boat, kissing his cross. (1X02 & 1X03)
Although, he does also speak out that he is angry with God and also lonely, in his prayers. (1X04) He shows defiance when he refuses to budge and then kneels to the ground, as Ragnar pulls at his rope. He does not want to be a slave any longer, even if it meant getting killed, and he is NOT happy with finding out of Ragnar tricking him into divulging more knowledge of England; Ragnar getting him drunk with wine. He did not want to EVER be treated “WORSE THAN DOGS”, like the other monk slaves received. he sees the monks hanging on the wooden log, like a campfire spit. (1X03)
Athelstan very purposefully turns his body away from Floki, not wanting to speak to him, his vile words becoming an annoyance, Floki scrunching up his kohl-painted face in hate. He is annoyed how Floki is always suspicious of him as of late. (2X03)
He subtly (or so he thought) challenges the Eucharist sacraments at High Mass, by spitting out the bread of Christ whilst still looking attentive yet also defiant, in front. The visions of Pagan sacrifices from Uppsala blurring into the rites, played a huge part in that. That is the first time he ever would do that, always eating the body of christ -- jesus of nazareth -- in the last supper, as honour of Him. He knows, has been to churches of mass where it is not just a cracker of bread, yet that significant symbolism of he believing in all his disciples and wanting to spend his last days well means it is generally the only nourishment in this holy proceeding. He sees in some cultures, like Asian, that after the mass and notably outside the church, they have a lunch array of food like fried rice and bok choy and shi-fern for the churchgoers ; to signify a strengthening union of their gathering together to feel hope and love of their Lord and Saviour. As he then sees Aethelwulf watching him with a frown on his face, Athelstan hastily changes his expression to one of compliance and regret, softening his face. (2X05)
he is especially enraptured by the song 'god called in sick' today by a fire inside, thinking of calling one of his stories by that title. it speaks about his crucifixion, when judas betrayed him, a disciple of his. he is on the cross, wearing a crown of thorns, caught in the twisting of the vine. this moment comes after he surrenders at the forest of baer, saying to not kill him in old english.
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timetraveling!Vikings + Christmas
Summary: how timetraveling Vikings would react to modern Christmas/what they enjoy/etc.
Tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey @ivarlover @levithestripper @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy (hmu to be added to any of my taglists!)
Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!
Ragnar
I think Ragnar likes modern christmas more than he should
He takes it like many non-christians do nowadays – fuck Christianity, i’m getting presents
Might let Athelstan drag him to church
Leaves midway tho
So bad at gift-giving that he accidentally gets you a great one
Lagertha
The BEST gift giver
Has a little table (after you show her how excel works, obvi) of the people she wants to get presents for and tracks their wishes over the course of a year
You need her at Christmas, actually
She doesn’t like the Christian part of it, but she likes the community it creates and GODDAMN Lagertha makes some good food
Athelstan
Vibes to church service HARD, even in modern times
Big enjoyer of WHAM! And Mariah Carey
Makes small, but very thoughtful gifts
Definitely always gets sick around Christmas and wears a bundle of scarves
Please don’t let him shave his head weirdly, or his brain will freeze
Bjorn
Doesn’t like Christmas
He came to the future, you have planes, let him use them
Spends his Christmas in warm places
Honestly, he might enjoy Aussie Christmas
Any excuse for beaches and bbq
Ubbe
If you want to stage a great Christmas celebration, go to Ubbe
Despite being from Viking times, he will be able to organise it better
He likes bringing people together for any occasion, and will be decorating the venue he chose like a PTA-mom with rabies (so, quintessentially, Ubbe)
Does not let snowy grounds stop him from playing football with friends/brothers
Hvitserk
LOVES Christmas
An endless supply of cookies and chocolate? Are you kidding??? The christians got something right?????
Eats everything you leave lying around
On time for everything during Christmas
Honestly, he gets hilarious gifts for everyone
Surprisingly good at singing christmas carols
Honestly, Hvitserk makes friends in all religions so his year of exquisite eating is just
Easter -> Eid -> Midsommar -> Thanksgiving -> Hannukah -> Christmas
Rinse and repeat baby
Sigurd
Spends the entire time critizising the compository value of christmas songs
Has an enemies to lovers arc with them
One day, soon after Christmas Eve, you will find a slightly drunk Sigurd in front of a karaoke machine with a thousand yard stare and the best interpretation of Last Christmas your ears will ever hear
Ivar
Christmas is a capitalist venture for the foolish designed by greedy christians
Totally does not buy super expensive gifts for his friends to brag
That Tesla outside your door? That’s not a Christmas gift silly, he’s sending you down the frozen road as a sacrifice to Odin so his bleeding ears might be saved from Sigurd
Does make an effort to put his mafia-ventures on hold for you though
He still hates Christmas
Floki
HATES CHRISTMAS. Floki hates Christmas so much. Did he already say he hates Christmas?
Hates it so much he secretly loves it.
‘Annoyed’ at Helga for baking cookies with you
‘Annoyed’ at the celebrations and people coming together
He secretly enjoys the non-Christian part of Christmas
But he just can’t get over the Jesus being born thing
Celebrates the part of Easter where he’s dead for a few days
Helga
Loves Christmas, and without shame
Turns into a cookie factory
Handmade gifts for everyone
Does a lot of charity/social work around Christmas
Enjoys ice-skating rinks as well
Tells Floki to stop moping around (he does)
#ragnar#lagertha#athelstan#bjorn#ubbe#hvitserk#sigurd#ivar#floki#helga#ragnar x reader#lagertha x reader#athelstan x reader#bjorn x reader#ubbe x reader#ubbe x you#hvitserk x reader#hvitserk x you#ivar x reader#ivar x you#ivar x y/n#ivar imagine#floki x reader#sigurd x reader#helga x reader#ivar lothbrok x reader#ivar lothbrok x you#vikings#history vikings#vikings imagine
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Chase the Sun
Author’s Note: This is a request I answered for @akusen-kutou, and I hope it turned out as close to what you imagined!
Vikings Masterlist
Pairing: Modern Floki x Reader
Word Count: 2774
Warnings: Language
Floki was feeling old. In fact, it was something Ivar and Hvitserk had said to him earlier during lunch. He cherished the moments spent in the company of the sons of his old friend, and the ribbing shared among them. But that afternoon had been different. The taunts he had received had lingered in a manner most unexpected, like an uninvited guest.
"You boys are starting to look old. You better hurry up and marry soon, or all the good ones will be gone," He teased Ragnar's two sons across the table from him.
"Take a look in the mirror, old man. We're not the ones who are actually…" Ivar paused with a smirk.
"Old," Hvitserk supplied around a mouthful of spaghetti.
Laughter erupted at the table as they tucked in.
At the time he hadn't thought much of it, but something unpleasant had remained with him when he thought about his age and where he was in this moment of his life.
Since Helga's passing in an automobile accident five years ago, he had remained a widower. The first year he had been lost in his grief and had thrown himself into his work. Then one became two, and the idea of finding someone new had been put upon him. His loved ones were only showing their concern, so he tried not to hold it against them, but the idea of anyone else in his life that wasn't Helga was strange. It would have felt like replacing her.
More years had passed, and in that time he had forgotten about being alone and had come to accept it. He embraced tragedy with a quiet aloofness. It never bothered him before, or maybe he had just refused to let it. Helga would be mad that he turned reclusive once again. It was how she found him when they first fell in love, and she had managed her way into his heart while also coaxing him out into the open. Floki knew himself to be bizarre, and maybe even crazy, but he would never apologize or try to change how he was. If others didn't understand him, then he would simply remove himself from their company. It seemed he had slipped back into that old habit.
The night was cold as he walked the streets. The last bits of autumn were clinging to hold on as winter chased close behind. Lights and wreaths were being hung on storefronts as the holiday season began, and sales were flashed in big numbers to lure in the early shopper. Christmas used to be Floki's favorite time of the year, only because it was Helga's. He would construct all sorts of decorations around their home, to the point where it looked like clutter, just to see her smile. Last year he hadn't even bothered with a tree.
He rounded the corner of the block, coming close to the park. It was where he liked to frequent when he had thoughts that he couldn't silence. The stars were more visible when standing under the shade of the trees, away from the streetlights. Floki believed in the divine, a being that was something greater than himself. He wouldn't call it God, and he never attended church, but he felt a deep connection to unseen forces. It gave him hope that Helga was still out there and that the soul was eternal. Their separation was only a temporary thing, something he would have to navigate alone.
"Floki!"
He startled at his name being called and had not realized he had stumbled so far into the park. Retracting from the bush, he stumbled out onto an empty pathway. Just ahead was a wooden bench, and a small lamp that's pale glow pierced the dark of the small pocket of the park he was in. He strained his ears, holding his breath as he tried to listen to the unfamiliar voice.
"Floki, come back here."
He frowned at the command. Should he answer? Who would even know he was there? The voice wasn't ringing any bells. He stepped further onto the path when a large creature came bounding down towards him. Swallowing back a gasp, Floki was pounced on by a lummox of a German Shepherd.
"You're a big one," He managed to say as he pushed back on the snout of the beast that was preoccupied with digging his nose into Floki's coat. A handsome specimen and he was quick to forget his annoyance at being caught off guard as he knelt down to stroke the dog behind the collar. "What are you doing out here, huh?"
"Floki!" He heard the unfamiliar voice call out again in distress.
"Right here," He replied without thought, caught up in his new wild friend. Floki had an appreciation for all living things, and he might have suggested opening a zoo to Helga once or twice. It was a good thing she always refused.
"Oh thank goodness," The voice said, coming from the same direction that the shepherd had sprung out of. He now had a face to go with the voice, and it was one he couldn't recall. Had they ever met before?
"There you are," You said, coming closer to the dog whose attention leaped back onto you from Floki. The shepherd showered you with excited licks across the face as you crouched down. You were laughing from the affection, and Floki felt a sudden disappointment at the loss of his new furry friend. "Thank you for finding him. We've been trying off-leash, but it's not going so well."
"Oh, it was no trouble. He found me," Floki replied as he stood away, feeling awkward and neglected now that the dog had you back.
You clipped a red leash back onto the leather collar while the shepherd observed you with blind trust. His tongue rolled out of the side of his mouth when you gave him a brisk scratch on the chin. "So what now, Floki?"
Floki frowned. There you went again, and he was certain this time that he hadn't let slip his name. "What do you mean?"
You looked back at him with confusion. "I'm not sure I understand," You said.
Floki did. The realization struck swift as lightning as he looked down at the dog and then back to you. An airy giggle set out from his lips before he could contain it, and he was glad for it. It truly was a funny coincidence.
"Floki," He said pointing to himself, and then at the dog. "Floki."
Your face bloomed into a delighted smile. "That's your name?"
"Yes. I thought we'd met once, and I had forgotten you, but you were searching for this one the whole time," He explained with much relief.
"You know, he got the name completely by mistake. I had meant to call him Loki, but when the license arrived in the mail, it said Floki. And actually both the F and L were capitalized, so the clerk must have hit the F accidentally," You explained in a rushed ramble. "Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that."
"No, no. I've never met another namesake before, and one with a connection to the Nordic Gods. Loki would have suited well, he does seem to be giving you trouble."
You smiled while Dog-Floki began to scout the area of the park. "Oh yes, since day one. He's a rescue, and actually, we were out celebrating. It's been a year since I brought him home."
"Congratulations. I should leave you two to it then," He said, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Goodnight."
"Wait a minute," You said, and the hint of desperation in your voice stopped Floki in his path. "Did you...did you want to grab a coffee or a tea?"
Floki blinked, and he might have forgotten how to breathe. No one had asked him to do anything like that in years, except for any of Ragnar's sons. But a woman no less, he was startled and a tad fearful at the meaning. He realized a long stretch of silence had passed without him giving you an answer, and you began to grow embarrassed.
"Nevermind, forget I said anything. That was weird of me, I mean we only just met, and you thought I knew your name." You suddenly shut your mouth while pinching the bridge of your nose. "Listen to me rambling. I just, I didn't want to come across as desperate, but I've lived here for two years and I still don't really have a circle of friends to speak of. After my first year, I adopted this guy and then another year has passed and I'm no different."
By now Dog-Floki had returned to your side, staring up at you as if to try and calm your frayed nerves. Floki understood the loneliness you were feeling, even though your circumstances differed from his.
"I don't like coffee," He spoke up and you looked positively stricken. "But I like peppermint tea."
"Really?" You breathed out a hopeful sigh and began to lead the dog by his leash. "Because there's a place close to here that also makes a latte I like."
"Yes," Floki replied, not knowing what else to say. He didn't want to come across as too enthusiastic, but your excitement was contagious.
You signal for him to follow, and he shuffled after to catch up. As he kept pace beside you, Floki couldn't help but observe you closer. He guessed that you were maybe only a few years younger than him. Still youthful, but with enough wisdom in your eyes and smile lines on your face that gave away to the years you had weathered. When you caught him looking in your peripheral, he looked away with an embarrassed flush at being caught.
"What is it?" You prodded.
"Nothing," Floki replied, covering his nervousness with a cough. "You aren't from here you said. Where did you move from?"
"Akureyri. My family is still there, but I came here to work."
"What do you do?"
"I'm a recreational therapist. I work with seniors in transition facilities."
Hearing that you worked with seniors made him think back to the 'old' comment again. You must be good at your job, however, as Floki couldn't recall having a fun, free night like this in months. Maybe Ivar and Hvitserk were right. His thinking process caused him to let slip another giggle, and you shot him a curious look.
"Well, what do you do, Floki? I feel like I've been talking too much about myself, and I hate to do that."
"I'm a contractor. Since I can remember, I've always been building things. Instead of growing out of that phase, I turned it into a career," He said with a shrug. "It's nothing impressive really, but I get to be creative. That's all I've ever wanted."
Dog-Floki came around between you both and nudged at Floki's hand until he fit his snout into his palm. Floki heeded the animal's need for attention, petting him back with soft strokes on the head.
"So you're creative, and are good with animals," You said, admiring the affection he was showering on your dog. "Do you have any pets...or children?"
Floki hummed. "No pets, no. My friend's sons are certainly rowdy enough to qualify as animals, and I think of them as my nephews. But no children for me."
His description had you chuckling. "I know how that is. I have nieces and nephews of my own. I hope they think of me as their cool aunt and not the wacky one whose gifts they exchange."
You seemed perfectly not wacky to him. The back and forth conversation continued between you, and Floki found himself giving shorter answers just so he could hear you talk more about yourself. He had forgotten what it was like to meet someone new, and the weightless feeling it caused in his gut.
The main street was a little busier than when Floki had left it, and the air had grown cooler as the night advanced. You pointed ahead to the shop coming up on your right, and you picked up a grin.
"There, Bliss Bakery. They've become a staple in my diet since moving here. I don't mind the extra calories though, it gives me an excuse to take Floki on runs."
Just as Floki was about to open his mouth and reply, someone called out across the street.
"Floki."
Dog-Floki's ears perked up, but this time the voice was familiar and Floki knew it was for him.
"I think those men are calling on you," You said while calming your excited dog.
"A lot of that going around tonight," Floki said as he cringed at the sight of Ivar and Hvitserk making their way over. "Here comes some of those animals I told you about."
You watched the young men approaching with curiosity as they bumbled together, laughing as they went. Floki could tell by the volume of their voices that they had been drinking. Hopefully, they hadn't left their good manners at the bar.
"Hey, you old bastard. What are you up to?" Ivar called.
Floki flinched. So much for his hopes of them having a semblance of decency.
"And who's that with you?" Hvitserk asked, squinting even as they moved closer.
Floki had his mouth opened, about to answer when you chimed in.
"Hi, I'm (Y/N). A new friend of Floki's," You said, sticking your hand out to Hvitserk. "You must be the animals he told me about."
Ivar adjusted on his crutches while tossing Floki a funny look. "What have you been saying about us?"
"The truth," Floki said with a shrug. "I had to convince your father not to take you all to the pound more than once."
There was an eruption of laughter, but Floki wasn't fooled. He could see both Ivar and Hvitserk eyeing you with interest and he could only fret over what they were thinking.
"So, where did you two meet?" Ivar prodded.
"Yeah," Hvitserk added. "I didn't know you had friends Floki…no offense."
"We met in the park back that way," You said, pointing on your tip-toes. "It was about a half-hour ago."
"Of course it was," Ivar muttered.
"We have the same name," Floki interjected, gesturing to the dog who was preoccupied with the two newcomers.
"You and the dog? No kidding," Hvitserk said as he petted the shepherd.
Floki nodded. "So, what are you two doing here?"
"We met some girls for drinks. Figured it was time. We didn't want to--what was it you said--get old?" Ivar smirked while avoiding the cold nose of the dog who was trying to bury his snout against his leg. "We should get going and let you two get back to your evening."
"Right. It was nice meeting you (Y/N). Maybe we'll get to talk more next time," Hvitserk said with a wave.
You nodded. "I hope so."
Floki turned to you, surprised with how your confident answer provided him with reassurance. His nephews hadn't scared you away, and better still they seemed to accept your sudden intrusion in his life. He wasn't sure what he had done to earn you as a new friend in his life, but forces at work must have been smiling down on him.
"You'd really put up with seeing them again?" He asked, feeling his brow furrow.
"Sure, they seem perfectly rowdy but without having to crate train," You breathed with a laugh and Floki joined you. "Here, you take Floki. I'll get our drinks to-go."
You passed him the leash before he even had a chance to reach for his wallet. "Let me pay."
"No, my treat this time. I'll let you get the next one." You pulled on the door of the bakery but halted a moment before stepping inside. "And I'll get us some palmiers. They're my favorite," You said before disappearing inside.
Floki smiled at you through the window. "Mine too," He murmured.
Dog-Floki sat down on the sidewalk by his feet and let out a sharp bark as he gazed up at the sky. Floki followed his line of sight, and it was as if all the clouds had parted to make way for the stars. He couldn’t remember the city sky ever being so clear. When a particular star began to flicker and twinkle, he took it as a sign that from this night until the end of his days, he would no longer be alone. She was still out there and had brought you to him.
"Thank you, Helga."
#vikings#vikings floki#floki x reader#history vikings#floki the boat builder#modern floki#vikings imagine#floki x helga
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The Boss
A/N - This was inspired by this fabulous moodboard created by the talented @flowers-in-your-hayr and the event created by @maggiescarborough. Happiest of birthdays Gabi. There won’t be much plot; this is a shameful excuse to get freaky with Floki. Will be two, maybe three chapters.
Bossman, Boat Builder, the Laughing Guy, although there was nothing comical about him; those were just a few of the names my employer was called. Never to his face, oh my god! You’d have to be reckless, with a death wish to call the head of security (hit-man) for the Lothbrok Family Organization (mob) anything but Floki.
Entering the glass doors of his sleek, nondescript office, I paused in the threshold, adjusting my dark pencil skirt. Why hadn’t I had worn flats, I cringed, as I stepped inside. Having received the message that he wanted to talk to me, alone, I hoped, prayed, as I stalled in the reception, that he didn’t get the idea from the height of my heals that I was looking to catch his eyes. Not that I would mind.... honestly, in a different life, in a different setting.
I had never even been alone with him before; our meetings were always with the others, in fact, I couldn’t even recall talking directly to him on the phone. He didn’t strike me as a phone person anyway, but… there was something about him. Not conventionally good looking, he had magnetism and mysterious confidence in spades. He was quirky for sure. A tad odd even, but more than that, not a single person in our organization or any other didn’t fear him a little.
As discreet as most were, I had still heard the stories of torture, straight up executions, shit, I even heard he pulled the lungs out of some poor guy’s back. Floki wasn’t an animal though, he would have had a good reason.
If someone had asked me what colour his eyes were, I would have a difficult time saying. Sometimes hazel or grey, other times a deep, army green. Yes, I had looked that closely but the point is, anyone would know, looking into those eyes, feeling that shiver of something running down their spine, that he was dangerous. Boarder-line unhinged in fact, and that was saying something in our line of work.
Gods, what a thought to have right before walking into my first one-on-one meeting with the man. Maybe the fuck-me shoes were a good call, after all. Who could resist red sole Louboutins, right?
“Lilly?” his strange, playful voice called from his office behind the empty front-desk. Moving toward his open door, I glanced at Torvi’s chair, wondering where she was on a Friday at 2 pm.
Turning the corner, my feet stopped, and by the grace of the Gods, I didn’t flinch. Not at his desk, he was instead sitting on the leather couch on the far side of the room. Wearing a slim cut expensive-looking suit, he slouched back, his head leaning on his hand, looking at me like he was about to deliver bad news.
“Sir.”
Inhaling, I forced myself to smile hoping he hadn’t noticed my apprehension. Of course he had, I almost scoffed...what a joke, reading people was part of his power. Breathe, I told myself, in and out, just breathe.
“Come in and close the door, little one,” he all but ordered, and I didn’t miss the edge in his tone. “We have something to discuss. I heard what you said about me.”
Oh fuck.
@naaladareia @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @geekandbooknerd@zuxiezendler @londongal2810 @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @hecohansen31 @waiting4inspiration @squirrelacorngliterfarts @kittybites-94 @lol-haha-joke @tephi101 @ceridwenofwales @funmadnessandbadassvikings @readsalot73 @mdredwine @gearhead66 @youbloodymadgenius @saldelys @kailan-sunshine @edythofhastings @maggiescarborough @flowers-in-your-hayr
#floki#floki the boss#floki the hitman#vikings#vikings floki#floki smut#vikings smut#floki fanfiction#floki fic#floki and OC#vikings fanfiction#modern floki#lothbrok mob
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Title : A Touch of Affection
Pairing : Modern!Ivar x Reader
Words : 4001
Warning : Fluff, Smut and slight Angst
Note : Roommate to Bestfriend to Lover. I made it soft!Ivar cause it’s my favorite. Probably some medical innacurencies.
Chapter Plot : Ivar talk about his difficulties in the sexual department and Reader offers to help him.
Tags : @youbloodymadgenius // @draculasbride-blog // @ivarhoegh // @black-repunzel99 // @theanxietyqueen17 // @litleepigisaa
Masterlist // Request // PromptList // Serie Masterlist
Chapter 10 : A Discovery of Feelings
After spending the night partying and dancing we could think that we’d stay the day sleeping and recovering, but it’s not us. We slept longer than usual but we’re still up before 10am -which isn’t bad when we get to bed at nearly 4am-, we still sleep tight and well.
The reason why we don’t stay in bed is because, first we have somework to do on the blog an the youtube channel, second I want to do some research on his “problem” and eventually ask him some more question about it, third...we’re in Japan and I just want to go to sex shop is that so hard to understand. Plus we could find some toys to play together,I mean we never know... I also found the perfect place to go, Akihabara, apparently there is the two biggest sex shop of all Japan ! We can’t miss it !
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After finishing our work Ivar goes to call his mother while I do some research on his condition. First, is it a physical or a psychological problem ? Can he have an orgasm or can’t he ? If it’s physical and he suffers of what we call ‘anorgasmia’ ---literally the incapacity to have an orgasm-, then he’ll need a prostate surgery. But this can also be caused by other ailments altering the penis’s gristle. Plus I learn than a man can have an orgasm without cuming -which could be treated by taking some medicines for instance-. At least if it’s one of those it can be treated, which means it must affect enough persons for the tratments to be profitable, important and useful. Now if it’s psychological it’s an other story, maybe he has some kind of an arousal problem -which means he can’t be aroused enough to induce an ejaculation-, one of the solution would be to work on his own pleasure and find what’s make him the most aroused, maybe use his personal fantasy to help him being more into it, and the most important, TRUST ! Trust in himself and in the other -me in this case-.
Strangely it would be easier if it was psychological, I mean this way I could try and help him, if he needs to see a doctor I’m not really sure he’ll be ready to talk to someone else about this... Finger crossed.
It’s been almost one hour and a half sonce I start doing my research, I’m done now and I’m only waiting for Ivar to come back from his call so I can ask him more questions. The door of his bedroom opens and I see him get out of it with a smile adorning his perfect features.
“How was your call ?”
“Great ! I talked to mother and then to Ubbe and Hvitserk, they gave me some news about the rest of the familly. The business has never been this prosperous which makes me proud and glad for them. He tells me gleefully. What about you, have you done with...whatever you were doing ?”
“I was doing some research about your ‘problem’, I mimic the quotation mark at this word, and I need to know more in order to understand if we’ll need to see a dctor right away or not.”
“A doctor ! Min Skatt are you serious ?!” He looks surprised and not at all at ease.
“Don’t worry Bunny I won’t force you to do anything, I just need some details, not too personal of course.” I come sit net to him, caressing the side of his pretty face.
“Well, go ahead ask our questions.” He says a bit defeated.
“Have you ever have an orgasm ?”
“Wow and you said it won’t be too personal... He seems a bit distressed and ashamed. I give him a hug kissing his forehead an explain him why I needed to know this. No, I never...I’ve been on the brink of it several times, but it’s like...The moment I’m going to finish everything stop and I’m here fustrated like crazy and with blue balls.”
“This means you can feel pleasure, it’s good at least, does it happen whether you’re on your own or accompanied ?” I rub his back from one hand and strocking is hair that are now resting on the crook of my neck where his head is resting.
“Both, it’s worse when I’m not alone... I’m starting to think it might be more psychological than physical after all, it’s a good beginning. I don’t overly like my legs not to say hate them, and the fact that I had to show them during...you know, made me unconfortable and unable to be fully focus on me and her.” I hear him sniff and can feel him cry a little against my shoulder. I let him express his sadness while consoling him with sweet whispering.
“My beautiful..”
“Pfff”
“I said my beautiful, perfect...”
“Not even close !” He snuggles closer to me, not trusting the veracity of my words.
“Last time, my beautiful, perfect, sweet Bunny, I think I know what you have !” He stare at me surprised.
“Do tell !”
“Your lack of self esteem and self confidance prevent you from letting go of your fear and complex or whatever to just appreciate the moment. Once you’re fully relaxed, I can tell you it would be easier for you to have an orgasm...and cum all over the sheets.” I whisper the last sentence in his ear using the most sultry tone I could muster.
“Are you sure this is gonna work ?!” He asks hopefull.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, I’m not, but based on what I read and my passed encounters, you need to feel at ease to be able to perform you know, it’s the same for girls, we need to be calm, relaxed and in complete trust of the other to fully appreciate the moment.”
“I trust you Min Skatt !” He cups my face our nose touching. I put my hands on his own looking at him intensely.
“What about going on a small trip to buy some toys for you an then go find a high noted love hotel to go and test them ?” I whisper. I see him blush a bit as well as seeing his pupils dilated.
“Ahem...yes why not ?!”
“Is this a question or are you not sure ?” I laugh a bit.
“W-What kind of toys do you have in mind ?” I’m slightly puzzled by this question but suddenly understand.
“Nothing to put in your urethra Bunny, don’t stress yourself. As for your amazing bum that you know I love, I won’t do anything against your consent, if you want to try it we will, if you don’t, no big deal, this is all about you being at ease and relaxed. I will give you pleasure and only pleasure, no pain, no fear. Are you reassured ?”
“Better now. Thanks Min Skatt !” He leans to me to give me a kiss on the lips, a kiss with such sincerity and feelings.
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We arrive in front of one of the biggest sex shop in the country, we both feel strange. Contrary to the occidental sex shop, those in Japan are really explicit and not hidden at all which is a bit destabilizing. Before coming we taked more about what he thinks he would be confortable with and what is a big no. I have some ideas in mind that I’m eager to suggest.
We enter the shop, it’s bright and not at all seen as something disgusting or something to make fun of. There is even a sign -both in Japanese and English-stating ‘Please be quiet in paticular here because tere is a person who chooses an item of masturbation seriously. It’s the trouble for them so quietly, please !’ We both look at each other trying not to erupt in a fit of laughter. After calming ourselves we take a cart and search for some items.
“Bunny I had some ideas in mind but I don’t want you to feel too overwelmed.”
“I’m all ears, as far as it’s nothing that goes in my urethra I’m all good !” He says smiling lightly but still a bit unconfortable talking so openly about our soon to be sexuality.
“First thing first we need lubricant, a lot of it, I look at him an his raise his brows, trust me sweety better having more than not enough !”
“Ok Min Skatt lead the way !” He chuckles happily.
“Well one of the most widespead sextoys for men is probably the fleshlight, I show him the newest model, oh wow it’s a vibrating one ! We’re so taking it ! I also thought about a vibrating cockring, apparently when using it men are thrashing with pleasure ! Awesome ! Why not adding a magic wand !?” I’m starting to babble and talking to myself mostly.
“You’re really into vibrating things, are you sure it’s safe though ?” He asks me in a small voice. I come to him, cup his face with gentle care.
“Vibrations will amplify your pleasure, add this to a more common stimulation and you obtain a Bunny desperate for more.”
“I-I don’t know what to say, you are so eager and so ready to help, I’m at a loss of words...”
“Never doubt of my will to help you sweet love, we’ll do anything you want at your own rythme. Step by step. We’re in this together, always and forever !” I see some unshed tears in his eyes that he tries to hide from me.
“Thank you so much Min Skatt !” He pulls me in a bear hug, hidding his face in the crook of my neck to gently suck at my pulse point.
We walk some more, stare at some weird sexual contraptions before walking to the bdsm alley. For what we’re trying to achieve I don’t think we’ll need any items from here buut I see Ivar seems interested in something I would never have thought he would.
“Min Skatt, w-what do you think about this ?” He holds out a dark blindfold with red and gold embroideries, perfect for men and women to wear.
“It’s cute, who would be wearing it ?”
“Ahem...me actually...He bows his head. I think I’d feel better if I have the choice of not seeing anything, maybe I’d be less stressed if I can’t see your disgusted face...” I say nothing for now
“I’m okay with taking it for you, loosing a sense increase the others, but would you consider adding to our cart a pair of handcuff ?” He gasps.
“W-Why would you want handcuffs ?”
“Because sweet baby, hearing you speaking so despicably about yourself and thinking that I would be disgusted by you is something I’m not okay with, something that will need to be punished.” I use my authoritative voice even if I’m deadly serious.
“I didn’t want to offend you...”
“Ivar !” I raise my voice.
“Don’t call me that ! You know I hate it when you do that Min Skatt !!” He engulfes me in a tight embrace, kissing my face tenderly.
“Then listen to what I’m saying.”
“Speak then.”
“I will never be disgusted by you or your body ever, you perfectly know that. And more than anything you know that this, I grab his firm bum in one hand and touch his pec with the other, only belong to me ! You are mine Bunny, body and soul, the good and the bad, you entirely !”
“And you are mine Min Skatt !” He lets a happy sob escape from him.
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After finishing our shopping we booked a bedroom for the entire night in a love hotel in order to try and experiment together.
We step inside our bedroom, it’s a basic, yet cute one, we didn’t want to be too extravagant for our first love hotel, we won’t have time to appreciate it as we’ll be to focus to bring some pleasure into this world.
It’s early evening, before starting serious we decide to order some food, something light but tasty nonetheless. During the meal I could see him still a bit apprehensive. I take his hands into mine, trying to reassure him as best as I can.
“Everything is gonna be okay Bunny, we’ll stop whenever you want, no pressure.”
“I know it’s you and I’m safe, I know you won’t make fun of me or anything but I can’t help it ! All I can think about is all the time this happened with...with the other two and how they looked at me as if I was not a man, a disgusting thing...I felt so ashame ! I don’t know what I’d do if one day you happened to look a me the same way they did.” Tears are ouing out his eyes. I come sit net to him to give him the most tight and loving embrace I can muster given our size difference.
“Never speak about those two gorgons ever again, they didn’t deserve you ! You’re everything they’re not, smart, funny, handsome and hell of a sexy to top it all !” He aughs at the last part.
“Thank you Min Skatt.” He pecks my right cheek.
We finish our meal together, holding hands, staring at each other with utter adoration as well as admiration. I offer Ivar to go take a shower -I already took mine as soon as we arrived- to relax a bit before we start. I prepare the bed, pull off the bed covers, ut the toys and lubricant on the bedside table while waiting for him in my short and sport bra -it bings confort as well as more skin to be seen-.
Some time ater he step ot off the batroom in nothing but a towel around his waist.
“Should I put some underwear ? I mean...you never saw my... I don’t want you to feel unconfortable.”
“Come here baby, he comes sitting right next to me, as I’m gonna pleasure you with my hands and toys I’ll have to be in contact with your cock, the question you should ask yourself is do youwant to see it or not ?” He stays silent for a bit.
“I think I’ll keep the towel and when I’ll be blindfolded and it would be easier, you could take it off. I nodded kissing his nose. Ok, well, what do we do ?” He seems uncertain, he’s so cute in a manly sort of way I can’t explain.
I come closer to him, start caressing the side of his face -he’s leaning into my touch, eyes closed-, stroking his hair and peperring kisses everywhere on his face. As I see him respond positively , I decide to straddle him to have better access to the rest of his upper body. I gently push him so he’s now lying on his back. I kiss, lick and suck his torso as if my life deended on it. I can feel his hips thrust a little against mine, each time they got in contact I hear him moan with a law voice. As usual -an because I know him pretty well b now I think- I take my precious time lavishing his nipples. I’ve never seen a an this sensitive from this area, he’s angelic, the pleasure on his face, the sounds coming out of his mouth...
“Oh n-norns Min Skatt, it feels s-so goooood !!!” He whimpers as I languidly work his nipples into an erect pebble.
“This is just the beginning my sweet !” I continue my ministration until I’m sure he’s half hard so I can position the cockring.
He’s now half hard -this is not the most difficult part- so I ask him to change position.
“Baby will you sit please so I can blindfold you, I will then ask you to position yourself between my legs our back against my torso.” Once we’re both fully seated I start to hug him from behind to show him I’m still here. I then kiss his neck leaving huge hickey on his pulse point.His hips keep thrusting into the air whie my hands continue to play with his already erect nipples.
“Aempff Hmmm ! His knuckles are white from grasping the bedsheets. Unconciously I see his legs being spread apart for better access. Moreover, he’s trying to kiss whatever part of my skin he can reach, so I give in and kiss his lips passionnately, his tongue enters my mouth and fought for dominance, desperate to feel more. His whimpers increase the moment I start palming him through the towel. Ohhh gods more more more ! Please Min Skatt I need more ! His desperate pleas for pleasure, and tears streaming down his face motivate me even more. I grab the lubricant and pour some in my hand before gently grabbing his cock tugging on it lightly. Y-Yeeeeeeeeees, that’s what I’m talking about !”
Gentle stroke up and down, up and down to build a rythme as well as his pleasure. When he’s almost hard I take good care into placing the cockring at the base of his penis, peppering featherlight touches on the underside of it, especially on his protruded vein.
“Now baby I’m going to turn the cockring on so you will feel some vibrations along your beautiful genital appendage.” I kiss the side side of his head starting the toy into the lowest setting. He gasps, surprise by the new sensation. I continue to stroke him slower and slower, tightening my hold on him, stimulating his slit with my index finger. He whines, thrusting his hips furthermore so much that he’s almost fuc*ing my hand while my other hand is ruffling his hair to keep them away from the blindfold and the rest of his face. I can feel him getting close, his moan are more intense and his thighs starts shaking through the magnitude of his pleasure. Just when he’s about to reach his peack, I stop everything.
“W-What the hell Min Skatt !!?”
“Calm yourself baby, everything is under control.” I then turn his face so I could kiss senselessly.
Once he’s calm enough I turn the cockring back on but on a higher setting which take him by surprise and allowed one of the most sinful moan to errupt out of his mouth. He doesn’t know it yet or at least I think he doesn’t but the more I tease him and the harder he becomes. He’s now almost fully hard, precum leaking in profusion helping his dick staying well lubricated.
“You’re doing good Bunny, so so good, I’m so proud of you. I whisper in his ears. If you could see youself now you’d be shoked by how manly and breathtakingly sexy and endearing you are.” Those praise -as well as an other higher setting-are enough to get him even more worked up than he already is which is what it takes to get him fully hard. As far as I know it’s the first time. It’s time to try the other toy, the vibrating wand. I start by applying some lub on the vibrating head as well as his cock and nipples before turning it on. The new sound of vibrations make him squirm in anticipation, his hands are clawing at my thighs, rubbing them as if he needed something to hold on to in order to stay anchored.
I first rub the wand to the underside of his cock, applying more pressure to the tip before going south, right on his balls, massaging them, teasing them until he’s at the brink of an other orgasm, then again I stop everything.
“Nooooo ! Min Skatt don’t stop, please...I’m begging you !” He sobs from desperation and need. Tears were rolling from his eyes and I could hear from his tone of voice how frustrated he is. I’ve been edging him for almost two hours now and I think he’s ready for the great final. I deposite sweet loving kisses to every bit of skin I can reach finishing by a tender one on his parted lips. He’s purring like a cat, chasing my lips for an other sealing kiss.
I set the cockring into a vibration setting, stroke him in a constant ryhtme, playing the wand on his balls while stimulating his nipples. The force of the pleasure he feels at the same time is exceptional. Once again his thighs are shaking like crazy, his moans come out of him unashamedly. I decide to take his blindfold of so he can see how hard he is and how good it felt.
“W-What are you nngh doing ?!” He whines as his pleasure increase, beads of sweat are forming on his chest and forehead.
“Showing you how much of a man you are Bunny !” He finally see the reality, he can get hard. He errupt in a fit of joy, tears of happiness and pleasure pour out of him.
As the final peak is coming I encourage him, pampering him, kissing him with utter devotion.
“Come on Love let it go.” He quickly turns his face toward me.
“Say it again please ! Please, please, please !” He sounds so deserate for release.
“You can cum now Love.” I kiss his lips while he’s still staring at me with adoring eyes.
“Again !” He whimpers
“Cum my Love.” An other kiss.
“Again !” He whines, tears in his eyes.
“Love.”
“Ahhhhhhhh !” An explosion of new sensations hit him full force. When he wakes from his post orgasm bliss he sees me cleaning his mess, absentmindedly kissing him.
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After all the emotion we both go to sleep. During the night I feel something or someone rubbing against me. Guess what, once again Ivar is dry humping me except this time he’s not asleep.
“What are you doing Bunny ?”
“I couldn’t sleep with such a hard on.” He pouts.
“And you decide to dry humping me while I’m asleep ?” I ask laughing.
“I was hoping you’d wake up and as you didn’t get anything from before I thought you wouldn’t be oppose to it...”
“Such a gentleman, tonight was about you and only you, and trust me I get my fair share of pleasure by giving you some.”
“A lot, you gave me a lot of it.”
“Come on here !” I get on my back, open my arms as an invitation.
“W-What do you mean ?”
“You said you had a hard on, so get here and rub yourself on me.” I spread my legs wide, one of my foot come in contact with his bulge which made it twitch a little.
“Ahhmph, you’re such an unsufferable woman !! He comes in my embrace, my legs lead him to be as much closer as it’s physicaly possible. He starts dry humping me, lazily first to appreciate the skin contact -he’s in a brief and I’m still in short but without bra on- Norns I’ve neve been this skin hungry before ! I’m an addict ! His movements are more and more erratic the more lost in pleasure he is. You’re my addiction, my bestfriend, my soulmate !”
“And you are mine Bunny, my addiction, my bestfriend and my soulmate.” I cup his face and seal those thoughts with a tender and emotional kiss.
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This is the end of this chapter, hope ou enjoyed reading it, if you want to be tagged tell me in the comment
Like, Comment and Reblog are highly appreciated
English is not my mother tongue
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#modern vikings#modern ivar lothbrok#modern!ivar#modern!ivar x reader#ivar x reader#ivar smut#ivar angst#ivar fluff#ivar x reader smut#ivar x reader angst#ivar x reader fluff#ragnar#aslaug#avengers x youtuber!reader#hvitserk#sigurd#margrethe#freydis#floki#helga#vikings fiction#vikings fanfiction
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