Ivar The Boneless Au - Tumblr Posts

In My Sights

Masterlist

Pairing: Assassin Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 2026

Summary: When Ivar’s contracted kill is taken out right in front of his eyes, he didn’t expect it to be at the hands of an old friend.

Warnings: Schmut, Oral (Male receiving)

Author’s Note: This is a oneshot assassin AU. I say oneshot loosely because I have a tendency to just build a whole universe in my head and then boom, I get my hopes set on writing a whole series! So for now I will say no guarantees on a second part.

----

Drops of water had been tapping Ivar’s shoulder for the last hour but all he could do was breathe through his annoyance as he kept his scope sighted on the interior of the penthouse suite. He should have accounted for any potential inconveniences when he decided that the under construction high rise had the best vantage point with its lack of walls. Not much he could do now, even the slightest movement could result in him losing the Mark. He was at least grateful that the water was nowhere near his rifle.

He usually preferred a more hands-on approach when it came to eliminating a target. There was just something he loved about watching the life go out of someone’s eyes up close and personal but, unfortunately, this one was hard to get alone. Believe him, Ivar had spent a good month trying to find the best place to eliminate him without raising any questions. The only option was to sit patiently in the empty building until it was clear to make his move.

Although he was perfectly centered in Ivar’s crosshairs, it would be too risky to take the shot now as he was in the middle of his third lapdance, surrounded by his fellow associates and friends who were also in attendance of the bachelor party.

“Thank the gods,” he whispered to himself when the Mark sat up, took the scantily clad dancer’s hand, and led her to the privacy of the master bedroom. The woman’s back was facing Ivar as she climbed onto the man’s lap and leaned down to give him a kiss, her long red hair swaying back and forth when she began to grind herself against him. 

He was fully prepared to pull the trigger as soon as her head was out of the way when the man started convulsing. The dancer carefully came to her feet and slowly combed her fingers through her hair, watching him grab at his throat as if he was struggling to breathe. Her calm stance turned into something more panicked when she opened the door and ran out of the room. Cursing at himself, Ivar wished he took the time to install some bugs in the suite so he could hear what the hell was going on.

Out of curiosity, he kept his scope centered on the dancer as all the party attendees rushed into the bedroom. Watching as she struggled to pull her coat on, he could tell from the shaking of her shoulders that she had to be crying. The redhead turned around to face the window and suddenly Ivar was looking at your face.

He could only clench his jaw as he watched you wipe the fake tears from your now smiling face and blew a kiss in his direction, giving him a mischievous wave before heading toward the exit. “Fuck!”

----

Ivar had waited around at the warehouse and watched as the Mark was zipped up into a body bag. Missing out on a nearly half million payday from what should have been an easy hit had really soured his mood and had him ready to get back home.

It was a few hours later when Ivar finally made it back to his motel room. Though in his personal life he preferred more luxurious accommodations because a son of Ragnar Lothbrok deserved only the best but when it came to his work, the more rundown the motel was the better. He found that people occupying such establishments kept to themselves and asked no questions.

As he unlocked the door and stepped into the dark room, he had an eerie feeling that he wasn’t alone. A creaking sound had him throwing his dagger into the corner before he quickly turned on the lights. You sat with your legs crossed in the weathered armchair looking completely unbothered by the fact that his weapon had landed only one inch away from your jeweled ear. 

Although you had ditched the red wig and your hair was now back to its natural state, you still stuck out like a sore thumb in the outdated room. You were dressed in a white tailored pantsuit with a hint of a red laced bra showing, the same red that colored the soles of your stilettos. Ivar didn’t know a lot about fashion but he was sure your whole outfit cost more than it would to rent the room out for the next year.

You grinned as you looked him up and down, “Long time no see, handsome.”

Setting his crutch next to the dresser, he went to work unpacking all his weapons from his backpack, ignoring you in the process. He was trying his hardest to seem like he wasn’t shocked over your sudden appearance after not seeing or hearing from you the past seven months. He looked up at the mirror to see you pout before you stood up to walk over to him.

“I’ve missed you. Did you miss me?,” you softly asked. Pressing your cheek against his back as you hugged him from behind, you trailed your hand from his chest down to his waistband, “Oh, Mister Lothbrok, is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” you asked before pulling out the beretta from its holster and feigning disappointment, “Darn, it’s a gun again!”

With such quickness, Ivar ripped the gun from your hand and had you backed up against the wall. He glared down on you as he placed it on the dresser.

“Uh-oh, I must be in trouble. That one was always sure to get a laugh,” You smirked.

His face loomed over yours while his hands wrapped around your neck, slowly tightening his hold, “There’s nothing fucking funny. If you missed me so much, you could have called. You wasted a whole month of recon I did on that hit!”

“Baby, please don’t be mad at me.” Fear in your eyes as you struggled to get the words out. At first he thought you were crying until a smile broke out across your face. You weren’t crying, you were laughing, “I can’t help that I’m better than you.”

He pushed you hard against the wall after letting you go. He should have known better. You were trained well enough to get out of the most complicated of holds. You’d probably have him down on the floor if you thought you were in any true danger. Just as he was about to step away, you grabbed his shirt to keep him close.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it but I really am sorry for taking away your kill,” You began to leave kisses up his neck and to his jaw, enjoying the advantage of the extra inches your heels gave you. “Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re going to give me half of the money?”, he asked as he unbuttoned your blazer and slid it off your shoulders.

You snorted, “Hell no, I earned it fair and square. It’s not like you need it anyway.” Switching places with him, you pushed him back against the wall and stroked his semi-hard dick through his pants, “I had something else in mind.”

Ivar leaned down to kiss you deeply, swallowing your moans as he massaged your breast, his fingers brushing against your nipple. His tongue danced against yours while you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, taking care to remove the empty holster and place it next to the gun on the dresser. You pushed down his pants as much as his braces would allow so you could wrap your hand around him and give him a long, hard stroke. Leaning his head back against the wall, he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting into your grip.

You giggled against him, your warm breath tickling his neck, “I guess you really did miss me.” You pressed one small kiss under his chin before you lowered yourself down onto your knees.

You continued to slowly stroke his shaft up and down as you took his head into your mouth, circling your tongue around it. He cursed out loud and thrusted his hips, impatient and desperate to have you take him in fully. Your long nails clawed around his hips when he did this. Just as in your professional life, you hated being rushed through a job.

Ivar felt like melting into the wall as you slowly twisted your hand down his dick while taking more of him into your wet mouth. He tangled his hand into your hair, trying to restrain himself from pushing in deeper again after feeling your moans vibrate around him. Though his eyes were shut closed, he knew that you already had your other hand in your panties, busy circling your finger around your clit.

You popped him out of your mouth but continued stroking, “Still mad at me, baby?” You looked up at him through your lashes while you pressed soft open mouth kisses over the crescent indentions you left on his hips.

“Are you going to tell me how you killed this one?,” he managed to get out before letting out a string of curses when you took him by surprise and quickly took him deep into your mouth, your tongue flicking against his balls. If you were ever going to give him an actual answer about your methods, this would be the best time. He probably couldn’t even remember his name right now. 

You took a quick gasp of air as you pulled away from him again. “I’m sorry, my mother told me that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” That got a laugh out of him. “Now let your girl work.”

—-

It was a small ray of light shining into his eyes that woke Ivar from his deep slumber. Rolling over to escape the brightness, he hissed when his back met the mattress. He was still tender from where you dug your nails in, holding onto him tight, pleading for him not to stop as he fucked you into the mattress. He grinned to himself while blindly reaching out to you, hoping to get you under him one last time before check out time but all he got was the cool side of the bed. 

Sitting up, he looked around and saw your clothes that he remembered throwing across the room was now gone. Just like with all your kills, there was no sign of you left anywhere if he didn’t count the taste of you still lingering in his mouth.

He didn’t know why he thought it would be different this time. Maybe he hoped you’d want to make up for the lost time and actually be there when he woke for once.

Just as he was about to lie back down, he noticed the brown case near the foot of the bed. He reached over to bring it closer to him, smoothing his hand over the top. It looked like it was an antique and made with Italian leather, he was sure it wasn’t cheap and that whatever was inside of it wasn’t going to be any less expensive. He sighed, thinking that you were due for another lecture about your spending.

He undid the leather straps holding it closed, curious what was inside. It was too small to house a rifle or a shotgun and too big for a knife. He opened the case to find a throwing axe surrounded by the plush red velvet lining. Running his hand over the axe head and then down the rosewood handle, it appeared to be forged with great care. He didn’t want to think about how much you spent on this gift but he couldn’t deny that you had a good eye for exceptionally crafted weapons.

Noticing a piece of paper tucked underneath the blade, he unfolded it and smiled at the familiar scrawl.

“A proper Viking axe for the only man who can fuck me like a heathen. Maybe you’ll have better luck hitting me next time.”

Next time. There was hope for him. As long as she kept her damned hands off his next target.

----

Endnotes: I think the agent assigned to monitor my activity was probably on high alert for a second there as I was searching about sniper rifles, where to keep daggers for easy access, and who picks up dead bodies. I figured searching for how much an assassin makes for each kill would be a step to far though...

----

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​

In My Sights II

Masterlist | One

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 1885

Warning: Schmut, this part literally starts off with a bang.

Summary: Certain obligations call you back home.

Author’s Note: So much for this being a one shot.

Your hand grabbed the headboard tightly, holding on for leverage as you slammed yourself down onto Ivar over and over again. You bit down hard on your lip when you felt that sweet release slowly creeping up on you again. Trying so hard to hold back your desperate moans, you refused to let him know how badly you were falling apart. But when you felt his thumb start to circle around your clit, you were unable to stop yourself from crying out his name.

He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down to him. “Say it again, say my name again,” he whispered harshly into your ear as his thumb moved faster.

Your head was so cloudy from the pleasure that you found yourself willing to follow his order and repeated the cries of his name. He kissed you deeply while his hand tightened around the sides of your neck. You felt the spasms taking over your body as you became lightheaded.

Digging his head back into the pillow, Ivar groaned out loud as he came inside you after feeling your pussy clench around him. Your senses felt overloaded when he loosened his hold on you, the rush of air you were finally able to take in seemed overwhelming. You continued grinding your hips slowly against his while you both rode the aftershock of your orgasms.

You collapsed onto his chest in a sweaty mess of loose limbs. A part of you was surprised he lasted as long as he did. It seemed like he was determined to make up for all the lost time and make sure you didn’t forget him if you decided to make yourself scarce once again.

“Stay with me for once. It’s the least you could do,” he insisted, pulling you back to him when you tried to get out of bed. It was the same thing every time you two got together, he’d beg you to stay and you’d have an internal struggle while you told him no.

Feeling his arm wrap around your back, you laid your head against his chest. “Because I stole your kill?,” you guessed.

“Because you said no,” Ivar lamented softly. Taking your left hand in his own, he gently caressed your empty ring finger. “I still have the ring if you changed your mind.”

You were foolish to think he wouldn’t bring up the elephant in the room.

This is why you stayed away for so long. You knew if you kept showing up in his life that he would slowly try to wear down your resolve. At least he didn’t have the ring with him this time. It was hard enough just saying no to his hopeful face at the time and even harder saying no to the beautiful ruby stone surrounded by a diamond halo.

“Ivar, you hardly know me.” It was the same response you gave him the last time.

Other than your addiction to labels, luxury, and murder, he only knew of a few small facts you deemed safe enough for him to know. None of which you thought would cause a man to spend at least six figures on the perfect piece of jewelry for you.

“Well if you marry me, then I can spend the rest of my life getting to know you,” he contended as he interlaced his fingers with yours.

“How about we just enjoy the next few hours?” You were grateful that you were looking away from him. You didn’t think you could take seeing the disappointment that you were sure was on his face.

Ivar only hummed in response. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last you would hear of this though it seemed like he was conceding for the night. The truth was that you wanted to be his wife, you wanted to wake up every morning in his arms. But you weren’t naive. You knew that the only happy ending women like you get is one where you don’t end up with a bullet in your head.

You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to be lulled by the sound of his heartbeat.

It was a faint buzzing sound that stirred you from your slumber. After a few moments of trying to wake up, you realized it was all coming from your phone. You looked down at Ivar and was thankful that he was still deeply asleep. Carefully slipping away from his hold and out of bed, you grabbed your phone before going to the bathroom for privacy.

You tried to hold back your disgust as you evaluated the room. You couldn’t understand why he would lower himself to such grimy accommodations when he had more than enough money to buy a whole luxury hotel if he wanted to. Shaking your head, you started going through your phone.

You had two missed calls from the same contact. There was no name saved under it, only a single emoji of a cross. Your finger hovered over the screen as you dreaded having to return the call. You knew the voice on the other end would be displeased over being ignored. A single message popped up just when you were about to hit call.

You are due for a confession.

Kind of early for that, ain’t it, Padre?

Do not call me that and you are due whenever I say you are due.

Fine, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Good. I will have a plane waiting for you at the airport.

That was not good. If he knew where you were, then it was very likely he knew what you were up to. Cracking open the door, you peeked to make sure Ivar was still sleeping. So much for staying till morning.

You quickly freshened yourself up, taking care to wipe the mascara and lipstick smudges from your face, before stepping out and quietly putting your clothes back on. Gathering his clothes, braces, and crutch, you set the items by the bed so he had easy access to them.

You didn’t take a chance on kissing his goodbye, fearful that he would wake and give you too many valid reasons to stay. Hopefully, your parting gift would ease his frustration when he woke up alone.

——

You said you would be there as soon as you can but that was a lie. After your long flight back to Wessex, you decided to take a much needed soak in the bath. It was just before midnight when you texted that you were finally on your way.

Though you never missed an opportunity to get dressed up, you knew walking into the church wearing a high-end dress and a pair of pumps at this time of night could possibly draw some unwanted attention. Instead you were dressed in a well-worn University of Wessex hoodie and plain jeans. To the few people currently occupying the pews, you were just a normal college student looking for some spiritual guidance.

You entered the confessional booth and knelt down on the step, clasping your hands in prayer. “Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks, twelve hours, and six minutes since my last confession.”

You wondered if you had the wrong booth when all you got was silence. Usually the exchange was simple, you would say the code—twelve hours and six minutes—and then the priest passed along a memory stick containing your next assignment. The remainder of the time was spent with listing your unabsolved sins.

“Hello? Is this thing on?,” You jested, giving a few raps on the partition. When it did finally open up, you could tell it was him even though the screen obstructed most of his face. “Damn,” you softly whispered.

Heahmund stared down at you, slowly exhaling as if trying to control his annoyance. “Hello, Sister Mary Julian. I am glad you could finally join me.”

The Bishop was very careful to limit his interactions with you which you took no offense to. The rare times he made an appearance was either to make a very special request or to lecture you over your work. “So, this assignment must be a juicy one if you’re personally delivering it to me,” you hoped.

“I think we both know that there is no new assignment. I had been informed that you have been away for the past few days.” It looked like you were in for a reprimand tonight. Raising his brow at you, he continued, “Tell me, Sister, what was the purpose of your trip? And I think it is in your best interest if you do not lie to me.”

“Pleasure, mainly.” Technically, not a lie. The only reason you took the job was to see Ivar again. “Just needed a bit of R&R.”

“I found it very interesting that the son of a well known diplomat was also there getting some ‘R&R’. A diplomat who is a very generous friend of the church.”

“That is interesting.”

“And even more so that his son unfortunately died due to a severe allergic reaction.”

“Should have avoided the shellfish.”

“I did not get to that part yet.”

“Damn.”

Heahmund pinched the bridge of his nose while he roughly sighed. “While your creativity in your work does amuse me, I thought we agreed that you would not take a contract on your own. Remember I handle the clients and I pick your assignments. All for your safety. Or do I need to remind you why?”

“No.” Your hand instinctively went to scarred skin below your ribs, remembering when you first met him. You were a bloody mess, passed out at his feet after being betrayed by a client. But that was a few years ago and you felt a few years wiser now.

“Do not go behind my back again,” he warned. “Your set of skills have proved useful to me and to the church and I ensure that you are well compensated for it. We would both hate it if I had to cut ties with you now.”

Rising up from the step and brushing the dust off your knees, you were happy there was no mention of what or who else you were doing while away. Heahmund was willing to overlook the sinful acts you had to commit for work purposes but, as a bride of Christ, any personal intimate relationship was nonnegotiable especially one with a man whose family was considered an enemy of the church.

“I have not excused you. I told you that you were due for a confession.”

You didn’t care if he saw you roll your eyes as you kneeled back down. You made quick work running down the list of sins you committed since the last time you were in the booth. Murder? Check. Grinding against a married man? Check. Not dressing modestly? Check. Obsessed with material possessions? Always.

Still Heahmund held back on giving you your penance. “Anything else you might be missing?”

Your mind shifted to the image of Ivar looking up at you from his position between your thighs, his tongue flat against your clit while his hands pinned yours down on the bed. You felt yourself getting wet just from the memory alone. “No, nothing I can think of, Bishop.”

——

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius @spotgaai2000 @castielsangelsx @walkxthexmoon @multifandom0-0 @placetokeepstories

The first GIF is Mob Boss Ivar. Telling you to get your ass home when you snuck out on a shopping spree.

Ivar: “Are you out of your mind?! Did you not hear me when I said that [insert rival’s name here] has a target on my head?! Well, that includes family! You stupid girl!”

Y/N: “You must be out of your mind to be coming at me like that! I ain’t missing this sale! And by the way, there’s no ring on my finger so I’m technically not family. You should work on that, baby cakes.”

Alex Hogh Andersen - Koldt på toppen 2 - RoK: EB

In My Sights III

Masterlist | Two

Pairing: Ivar/ Fem Reader

Word Count: 3570

Warning: None? 7 years bad luck?

Summary: A meeting with two brothers from Vestfold takes Ivar off guard.

Author’s Note: Well, this part was a long time coming. That means I will have part four ready next year.

The dining room was sparsely occupied that early afternoon with women who lunch, businessmen on lunch breaks, and their quiet chatter. The Vine had long been considered a historical landmark in Kattegat and was formerly a struggling fine dining restaurant. It had only gained popularity with the upper class once Aslaug Lothbrok, a well-known Götaland socialite who was newly married and new to the city, started to make her presence there. Though it’s popularity faded over the years, it was still preferred by the old money elite. Mostly for the staff’s discretion rather than the food and ambience.

It was for that reason why the Lothbrok sons preferred the establishment for their business lunches. Extra care was also usually taken with a generous tip to the host to ensure no other guests would be seated next to their table but today it was turning out to be a waste of money as the hushed voices from their corner of the room began to grow.

Ivar drummed his fingers against the table as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, glaring across at his three older brothers. Apparently, the idiots had forgotten the importance of discretion as they were busy bickering over why their associates called for today’s meeting. He hoped the clinking of his cup when he set it down roughly onto the saucer would disrupt their chattering but, to his annoyance, still they continued.

Leaning back in his chair, his left hand mindlessly traced the carved out dragon on his cane, last year’s birthday gift from his dear Uncle Floki, while he scrolled through the day’s news on his phone. One particular article detailed the resignation of a Mercia diplomat after the unexpected death of her eldest son, mentioning that authorities were looking for a red-headed female who was last seen with him for questioning.

Good luck finding her, Ivar thought to himself. He had given up all attempts at trying to find you or any information about you after a year upon your meeting. After coming up empty through hacked databases and facial recognitions, he concluded that you were virtually a ghost or at least knew very powerful people who worked hard to keep you hidden. All he could do was sit and wait until he heard from you again, hoping his right hand and the memories of your last tryst would keep him satisfied till then.

He felt his slacks tighten as he got lost in a memory of you trapped underneath him as he pounded into your sweet cunt. The whines of you begging him to make you come he heard in his head were interrupted when Ubbe pounded his fist on the table, causing the glassware to shake.

“For fuck’s safe, Ivar, get off your fucking phone!” His older brother harshly whispered, checking over his shoulder at the other patrons, finally aware of the scene they were making.

“And why would I do that, dear brother?” Ivar still had his eyes turned down to his phone as he sent you the link of the article and a brief message: You’re on their radar. I wonder what you’re willing to do to make sure I don’t turn you in. Throwing his phone on the table, he raised an eyebrow as he bestowed Ubbe with his undivided attention. “So I can join you fools in biting our fingernails, worrying why they called for a meeting at the last minute?”

“They” were two brothers from Vestfold, owners of a large fishing company based out of their hometown and, most recently, out of Kattegat as well. To the public eye, it was assumed that it was hard work, determination, and a wise investment from Ivar’s father that turned the once struggling business into a multi million dollar success. But the young men currently seated at the table knew that the wise investment was generous compensation throughout the years for hauling more than just fish on their boats. Whether it was guns, stolen art and, for a very brief moment in time, opiates, Halfdan and Harald provided safe transport for anything the Lothbroks were running.

“You're not the least bit worried? What if they’re wanting to pull out of our deal? The Rus are not going to be pleased if we’re not able to deliver their shipment.” Ubbe wrung his hands as he thought of the worst. He was not looking forward to telling the Rus leader of any potential delays. The man wasn’t the most level headed or understanding and honestly, he creeped him out a bit.

Hvitserk nodded his head in agreement. “They might be. Remember, they were wanting a cut of our profits the last time we met with them but Ivar thought it wasn’t a good idea…” He pursed his lips in disapproval before cutting his eyes toward the youngest Lothbrok.

If Ivar had rolled his eyes any harder, he would have given himself a headache. “They’ve been doing the same job for our family for nearly twenty years, nothing more and nothing less, and have been paid fairly for it. Maybe a little too much in my opinion but I will honor our father’s wishes. Still they have no business being greedy. If it wasn’t for the Lothbroks, they would still be hauling fish into a sinking dinghy.”

“There are probably others who are looking for a way to transport their shit and all they need is a smug asshole like Harald to offer his services.” Hvitserk swirled his drink in his glass, taking a sip before continuing. “I think we should give them at least half of what they were wanting.”

Ivar gave an aggravated sigh and was ready to shoot down what he thought was the stupidest thing to come out of his brother’s mouth.

“I don’t know, I think Ivar’s right.” Sigurd chimed in. “They should be grateful for all our father did for them, not bite the hand that feeds them.”

The other men at the table sat in silence as they stared at him in confusion. It was thought that Sigurd would rather eat a bullet than agree with anything Ivar had to say.

“I changed my mind. Give them everything they ask for.” Ivar had joked, he would never admit out loud or to himself that he appreciated his least favorite brother taking his side. Officially done with the conversation, he picked his phone back up. He held back his smile as he read the new message: Anything you want me to do, handsome. But first, you’d have to find me.

Ubbe looked up from behind his nerve-wracked hands toward the lobby and gave a sigh. “Thank gods, they’re finally here...and of course he brought his fucking girlfriend. To our illegal business lunch meeting. Great.”

Hvitserk gave a quick and quiet wolf whistle as his eyes studied the woman on Harald’s arm, from head to toe. “Is that the same one he brought to your birthday party? Didn’t she have different hair and was a bit taller?”

“How can you not tell? I thought you fucked her while cake was being served?” Sigurd questioned.

“All I remember was the back of her head, to be honest.”

Ivar couldn’t hold back the snort at Hvitserk’s comment. Whatever smart ass response that was about to come out died on his tongue as he looked up at the woman that was being led to them. This was definitely a new girlfriend because if you were the one Hvitserk had fucked in the coat check room, he was going to have one less brother.

As always you looked like perfection to him but he knew your presence, or rather your outfit, was causing a bit of a stir in the restaurant especially among the older women who were busy clutching their pearls. From the plunging neckline of the loose dark green silk shirt to the matching miniskirt with a side-slit it was tucked into, your ensemble was far from the acceptable dress code of the Vine but the host knew better than telling Ivar and his brothers that their guest would have to leave, no matter how many complaints he’d get from the other patrons.

“Can you two shut the fuck up before he hears you?” Ubbe scolded Hvitserk and Sigurd before standing up to greet their guests. Shaking Halfdan’s hand before moving onto Harald, “Gentleman, I’m glad you could finally join us.”

Halfdan gave a frustrated sigh as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped himself down on an empty seat. “Believe me, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh come on, brother. We didn’t keep you waiting that long.” Harald slapped a hand on his shoulder before parading the young woman on his arm. “Boys, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Veronica.”

Ivar instantly wished he had ordered something stronger than coffee. He didn’t want to believe for a moment that you would choose to be with someone like Harald but you did warn him before that he hardly knew you.

In his opinion, the Fishmonger wasn’t much to be desired. And if it was money you were after, Ivar’s funds could have kept your excessive shopping addiction quelled more than the mere pennies the other man had. He knew he could satisfy you in that way and others.

Patiently sitting back in his chair, he watched as you politely smiled while you shook hands with each of his brothers. Hvitserk was unaware how close he was to a dinner knife to his thigh after lingering a second too long while kissing the back of your hand. Fortunately, Harald had the good sense to pull you away.

Ivar balanced his weight on his cane as he stood up to introduce himself, taking a risk and gently caressing his thumb against your hand. “Lovely to meet you, Veronica.”

Although you said nothing back, he didn’t miss the small smirk that briefly graced your face letting your alleged boyfriend lead you to your seat.

“I hope you boys don’t mind her being here. I know we try to keep these meetings to ourselves but I’ve been a little busy and this beautiful thing has been missing me.” He kissed the back of your hand, causing you to giggle. “Didn’t even want to take my card and go on a shopping spree.”

“I swear you won’t even hear a peep from me.” You promised, miming zipping your lips closed while you took a seat across from Ivar. “Harry’s shop talk ends up sounding more like gibberish to me anyway!”

Ivar had to focus to not show his confusion when he heard you speak. The words coming out of your mouth sounded as if they were dipped in saccharine and nowhere near the lower sultry tone he was used to. He hoped to himself that you would stay true to your promise and remain silent.

Unfortunately, promises meant nothing to his brothers.

“So what do you do for a living, Veronica?” Sigurd asked while cutting into his beef tenderloin.

You gave him a closed smile, dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin as you swallowed your last bite. “Oh my goodness! Nothing as important as what you gents do! I worked in this cute little boutique over in Vestfold before Harry whisked me away!”

“Wow, you must have made a killing in commissions.” Ivar couldn’t resist this opportunity to make you sweat, if that was even possible.

He was sure that hint of confusion on your face seemed authentic to everyone else. “No? Actually, I worked hourly...”

You were cut off by an annoyed groan from Ubbe as he rubbed his face, the food on his plate was barely touched. “Harry...I mean Harald, why did you call this meeting?”

“You couldn’t wait a few more minutes until we were done eating? I’d expect mommy to have taught you some manners.” Harald sighed and tossed his napkin on the table before leaning back in his chair.

Ivar didn’t miss you curling your hand around your knife. The tension surrounding the table definitely wasn’t missed by you.

Before Ubbe could respond, Halfdan had cut into the conversation. “Look, we know the last meeting didn’t go well.”

“Actually, you shot one of our men in the head.” Hvitserk stated, staring at Harald as he made his point.

Halfdan quickly interjected, “One of our captains went rogue. Was convinced by some mysterious buyer to deliver your last load of weapons to them. Don’t worry, we took care of the problem”

The younger Lothbrok brother stayed silent while his brothers voiced out their displeasure. You took a sip from your glass, your eyes cutting back and forth to the men surrounding you.

“Oh, did you?” Ubbe questioned incredulously. “Because there shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Yes, we did.” Harald finally broke his silence with an emphasis on every word. “The man liked a good drink...a little too much. It was unfortunately only a matter of time until he drunkenly stumbled off his boat. I’m sure the medical examiner we paid off would attest that it was accidental drowning. As for the guns, they’re on another boat with a crew we know we can trust.”

“The buyer? Do you think it was the Saxons?” Sigurd suggested to the table.

“No, they thrive on letting it be known when they screw us over. I suspect they either are or know someone close. In either our circle or yours. I just hope our actions show that we are loyal and can be trusted.” Harald regarded that last statement to Ivar, knowing his silence throughout the exchange meant he was the one he had to win over.

The young man grinned as he sat back in his seat “You know, before you got here, my brothers were saying they didn’t think you deserved any part of our profits but I personally think a five percent cut of every successful shipment is reasonable.”

A smirk slowly spread against Harald’s face. “I think that sounds very reasonable.”

----

Ivar slowly made his way to the front of the restaurant. The remainder of lunch was uneventful other than the mindless chatter of Hvitserk and Sigurd asking you 20 questions. Ubbe promptly left after taking care of the bill and with so few words.

He rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched Harald wrap his arms around you, not even trying to be modest as his hands grabbed your ass. He had to fight the urge to not cut the man’s hands off for touching something that belonged to him.

You squealed and playfully swatted his chest. You gave a quick glance at Ivar as he slowly approached. “Baby, I’ll meet you outside. I just need to touch up my lipstick real quick.”

“Okay, lovely. Don’t be too long, we have a plane waiting on us.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before letting you go. He walked out of the restaurant, not even noticing that Ivar was close by.

Your heels clicked on the marble floor and you peeked over your shoulder toward Ivar, giving him a small grin before you made a quick turn into the washroom.

Ivar looked around to make sure there were no eyes on him as he made his way in the same direction as you. He didn’t expect his brothers to worry too much about him. He would’ve been surprised if one of them had waited for him especially since he took his own personal town car to the restaurant.

Before he could even walk through the door, you yanked him in by his tie then pushed him against the adjacent wall. He barely had time to react when he felt your lips against his own. He wrapped his arm around your waist and groaned when your hand tugged down on his locks.

Usually you enjoyed taking your time kissing him, teasing with a soft touch of your hand at the back of his neck, savoring every small whine he made when you nipped on his bottom lip. But today was different as you rushed to deepen the kiss. Both of you knew that if you were gone too long, Harald would come hunting for you.

When you broke away from him, you looked into his eyes, stifling a soft giggle. “Hi there, handsome.” You teased, your voice finally back to normal.

“Gods, that voice you were putting on was annoying.”

“I don’t know. Harald seems okay with it.” You pushed yourself away from him, walking over to the sink and pulled out a tube of lipstick from your clutch.

Ivar stayed put against the wall, watching as you leaned over the sink to look yourself in the mirror.

He repeatedly tapped his cane on the tile, “Is he why you said no?”

“Said no to what?” You stayed focused on reapplying the red color on your lips. You couldn’t help but laugh when you looked up and saw the annoyed look Ivar was giving you.

You smooth a finger around your lips, cleaning up any smudges. “I’m not his girlfriend, Ivar. He thinks I’m the very expensive call girl he hired to keep him company over the weekend. Just your basic girlfriend experience.” You dropped the lipstick back into your clutch before closing it with a snap.

“Your client wants him taken care of?” He walked over and propped his hip against the counter next to you. “That would save me some money in the long run. One less brother to pay.”

“No…” You looked down at the porcelain instead of looking him in the eyes. “I’m just collecting information on him by any means necessary.”

“Any means necessary?” While Ivar usually admired your dedication to committing to your undercover work, he found himself not liking the idea of you following through on this one. “Y/N, please tell me there’s a target on his head.”

You quickly glanced up at him through the mirror before turning to lean against the counter. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “At the moment, no.”

“Goddammit, Y/N” Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose. Though the thought of someone else hands over your body aggravated him, the idea of another man inside of you incited him. “Are you going to fuck him? Have you fucked him?”

“Ivar…you and your brothers were waiting for a reason. It would have been suspicious if the hooker refused to fuck him.” You stated as if that was a reasonable explanation.

“How much is your client paying you? I’ll double it—fuck it, I’ll triple it if you just walk away now.”

“No one is paying me. I’m on my boss’s orders.”

“And who do you work for again?”

“Tsk, tsk. You already know that if I told you, I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face. Again.” Pressing up against him, you gently brushed your thumb over the faint scar that went across his cheek. A sweet parting gift from one of your earlier encounters with him.

“Tell me what information you need and I’ll get it for you.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Just...just don’t go with him.”

You cradled his face in your hands. For a brief moment, there was a look that Ivar had seen on your face before, a mixture of pity and sadness. You shook your head then pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before you walked away from him.

“Please don’t hate me, handsome.” Through the wall length mirror ahead of him, he saw you turn to face him after pausing at the closed door. “You can be mad and you can curse at me until we’re old and grey. Shit, you could even throw another knife at me but I think it would hurt me more if you hated me.”

You waited a moment for him to say or do anything, but when all you got was silence, you walked out of the door.

Ivar took a deep inhale to try to calm the anger that was beginning to flow through his body. He turned toward the mirror, his knuckles going white as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink. No care when his cane falls to the ground with a resounding smack.

When he was younger, he had got into some trouble after he hit a classmate with a rock. The therapist his Uncle Floki took him to after the incident told him to try counting to ten whenever he saw red.

He closed his eyes, letting out an exhale at every count in his head.

On five, he could see you.

Six, Harald slowly walking up behind you.

Seven, him taking you into his arms.

Eight, his tongue sliding up your neck.

Nine, his hand trailing down to your center.

Ten, you softly moaning out Harald’s name.

Ivar screamed out in rage and punched the mirror. He didn’t even notice the pain in his fist until his breathing evened out. He straightened out his tie the best he could with the distorted reflection in front of him. Flexing his injured hand, he reached over and grabbed one of the towels laid out on the counter, wrapping his hand in it.

If Harald didn’t have a target on his head before, he fucking did now.

——

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo @peachyboneless @punkrocknpearls

@love-all-things-writing @peoniesandbooks5 @spotgaai2000 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @trip2themoon @zo3st3rmonro3

So listen, Ivar is a pirate who is rescued by a mermaid…

So about my new WIP—

I’m just picturing a younger version of Meryl Streep’s character in It’s Complicated who finally is getting the kitchen of her dreams.

Except it’s not complicated, she definitely wants to bang the contractor and her exhusband can go to hell.

so this weekend I’m redoing the flooring in my house, tearing up carpet and laying the wood and just hear me out on this thought:

contractor alex høgh andersen.

shirtless, sweaty, sporting a tool belt and a pencil behind his ear, measuring twice and cutting once, listening to classic rock & blues while he works. swearing once or twice when he inevitably hits his knee against something.

coming home and thinking he has to work on something around the house but instead you’re on your knees to help him relax.

Good thing Ivar has very strong arms. Very useful for when he keeps digging himself into a hole. 😅😅😅

Vikings fic: The Best of Everything - Chapter Four  ||  modern!Ivar x reader

A modern!Ivar AU

Ivar x f!reader

CW: swearing, lots of bad language and shit talking, threats and verbal abuse, standover tactics, intimidation. Mentions of gentrification. Sexual content.

Synopsis: Your dad’s bar is a local landmark, your pride and joy, your livelihood. But Lothbrok Developments also has it in their sights. You’ve managed to resist their dirty standover tactics for months now, but when their infamous CEO Ivar Lothbrok gets involved do you even stand a chance? A fiercely independent and practiced businesswoman, you’re stubborn as hell with a reckless tendency to speak your mind, so you like to think you can handle anything the blue-eyed businessman throws at you.

But, in reality, you know it’s never that easy to resist temptation.

Thank you to @leilabeaux​ for the inspiration and cheerleading, and help storyboarding. I love you more than I love cake.

Tag team: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @serasvictoria​​ @quantumlocked310​​ @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​​ @teishalicious​ @heavenly1927​ @oldglitterstory​ @pomegranates-and-blood​  @ivarsgard​ @lordsexmachine​ @quietborderline​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @aprilivar​  @carlandonorri-s​ @theanxietyqueen17​ @illyrianhighfaerie​ @crazybunnyladysworld​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @onyxskeleton29​ @katfett​ @grimeundglow​ @beware-thecrow​  @zuxiezendler​ @southernbe​ @love-all-things-writing​ @a5hl3y5ibley​ @alicedopey​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @ecarroll1978​ @ritual-unions-gotme​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @revolution-starter​ @peachyboneless​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @istorkyou​ @youbelongeverywhere​ @that-virgo-witch​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

Please message me or ask if you would like to be tagged or if you’d like to be taken off  

Catch up! Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three 

————————–

Chapter Four

Your heart takes a long time to calm down. Sitting at your desk, you stare at your computer screen for a while, then, realising you’re not going to get any work done while your mind is on him, you close the screen and head out into the bar. 

It’s not a particularly busy day, even for a Saturday. There are no football games on and the weather is good so most people are out enjoying it. Your regulars come in around dinner time and it’s a pleasant relief to sit and chat with them. 

Finally, around ten-thirty, the last person leaves and you start to close up for the night. You’re about to take the till out to the safe when you hear the old bell above the door chime. 

“We’re closed, sorry,” you call out, not looking up. “But I can get you a take–”

You pause when you hear the click-drag of his uneven gait over the tiled floor. Immediately, your brain starts to short-circuit in a supernova of conflicting emotion. 

“Come to apologise?” you ask, not looking up. 

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Hvitty, bro no don’t chase her! You need to run far, far away because Ivar is going to make sure you die a very horrible death.

Vikings fic: The Best of Everything - Chapter Six  ||  modern!Ivar x reader

A modern!Ivar AU

Ivar x f!reader

CW: swearing, lots of bad language and shit talking, threats and verbal abuse, standover tactics, intimidation. Mentions of gentrification. I’m so sorry everyone. This is almost pure smut from start to finish. There’s a bit of plot but only at the end. Also, there’s a lot of swearing, verbal abuse and some throwing of things in this. 

REMEMBER: Aunty Pearl says VIOLENCE IS NOT THE ANSWER.

Synopsis: Your dad’s bar is a local landmark, your pride and joy, your livelihood. But Lothbrok Developments also has it in their sights. You’ve managed to resist their dirty standover tactics for months now, but when their infamous CEO Ivar Lothbrok gets involved do you even stand a chance? A fiercely independent and practiced businesswoman, you’re stubborn as hell with a reckless tendency to speak your mind, so you like to think you can handle anything the blue-eyed businessman throws at you.

But, in reality, you know it’s never that easy to resist temptation.

Thank you to @leilabeaux for the inspiration and cheerleading, and help storyboarding. I love you more than I love nice whiskey. And that’s a lot.

Tag team: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @serasvictoria @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @teishalicious @heavenly1927 @oldglitterstory @pomegranates-and-blood  @ivarsgard @lordsexmachine @quietborderline @xbellaxcarolinax @aprilivar  @carlandonorri-s @theanxietyqueen17 @illyrianhighfaerie @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @onyxskeleton29 @katfett @grimeundglow @beware-thecrow  @zuxiezendler @southernbe @love-all-things-writing @a5hl3y5ibley @alicedopey @oddsnendsfanfics @ecarroll1978 @ritual-unions-gotme @mrsalwayswrite @peaceisadirtyword @revolution-starter @peachyboneless @pokeasleepingsmaug @istorkyou @youbelongeverywhere @that-virgo-witch @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivarhoegh @ironynoticony

Please message me or ask if you would like to be tagged or if you’d like to be taken off  

Catch up! Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four Chapter Five

——————

Chapter Six

You snort in amusement, getting to your feet and grasping his hand to pull him up. “You’re the one who smashed the light,” you remind him, sliding your feet across the ground in the direction of where you think the staircase is. You kick something hard and it goes clattering across the floor.

“Here, use my phone,” Ivar mutters; you grope in the darkness for it as he turns on the flashlight. It takes the pair of you a while but eventually you make it to the landing and up into the kitchen. You wish you could say that getting to his bedroom was any easier with light and clear passage, but truth was it really wasn’t. You’re like a pair of teenagers whose parents weren’t home and you only had a few hours to fool around. 

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THE ANGST!!

It warms my evil little soul! Can’t wait for all the groveling and pleading Ivar’s going to have to do!

PS. I love you more than chocolate chip cookies hot and fresh out the oven! 🥰🥰🥰

Vikings fic: The Best of Everything - Chapter Seven  ||   modern!Ivar x reader

A modern!Ivar AU

Ivar x f!reader

CW: swearing, lots of bad language and shit talking, threats and verbal abuse, standover tactics, intimidation. Mentions of gentrification. Not as much smut in this chapter. But Ivar is still as dense as a brick. A little bit of smut, not a lot. I don’t know whether to be relieved or apologise.

REMEMBER: Aunty Pearl says VIOLENCE IS NOT THE ANSWER.

Synopsis: Your dad’s bar is a local landmark, your pride and joy, your livelihood. But Lothbrok Developments also has it in their sights. You’ve managed to resist their dirty standover tactics for months now, but when their infamous CEO Ivar Lothbrok gets involved do you even stand a chance? A fiercely independent and practiced businesswoman, you’re stubborn as hell with a reckless tendency to speak your mind, so you like to think you can handle anything the blue-eyed businessman throws at you.

But, in reality, you know it’s never that easy to resist temptation.

Thank you to @leilabeaux​ for the inspiration and cheerleading, and help storyboarding. I love you more than I love puppies. Cute puppies. Danish puppies. Okay I took that too far. 

Tag team: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @serasvictoria​ @quantumlocked310​ @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ @teishalicious​ @heavenly1927​ @oldglitterstory​ @pomegranates-and-blood​  @ivarsgard​ @lordsexmachine​ @quietborderline​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @aprilivar​  @carlandonorri-s​ @theanxietyqueen17​ @illyrianhighfaerie​ @crazybunnyladysworld​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @onyxskeleton29 @katfett​ @grimeundglow​ @beware-thecrow​  @zuxiezendler​ @southernbe​ @love-all-things-writing @a5hl3y5ibley @alicedopey​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @ecarroll1978 @ritual-unions-gotme @mrsalwayswrite @peaceisadirtyword​ @revolution-starter @peachyboneless @pokeasleepingsmaug @istorkyou @youbelongeverywhere @that-virgo-witch @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivarhoegh @ironynoticony

Please message me or ask if you would like to be tagged or if you’d like to be taken off  

Catch up! Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

————————

Chapter Seven

Hvitserk’s voice echoes up the stairs behind you as you take them two at a time. Ivar is sitting up in bed by the time you burst through the bedroom door. 

“The fuck?!” he exclaims, scowling. Looking around, you clock a shoe and quickly pick it up and hurl it at his head. He ducks, then rolls sideways off the bed and onto the floor, naked as the day he was born. 

“You motherfucker,” you fume at him through clenched teeth.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you now?!” he yells, peeking up over the side of the mattress. 

“You lied to me!” Your voice rises shrilly, echoing around the house and probably down the street, but at this point you have no further care for airs and graces. “You’re still angling for my bar. You’re fucking unbelievable, Ivar. An absolute fucking con artist. I can’t believe I fell for it. You didn’t mean a fucking word of it, did you?!” 

You lunge for him, darting around the side of the bed, but he’s quicker than you, rolling across the mattress back to the other side. Before you can change direction and go after him, he’s heading for the bathroom with sweatpants in hand. As you reach the door, you hear the lock click into place. 

“Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he yells through the door, barely audible as you hammer on it with your fists. With a frustrated screech, you turn and slam your back against it, sinking to the ground. 

“I don’t want to listen to another fucking word that comes out of your mouth, Ivar Lothbrok,” you bristle, tears prickling at your lashes; you wipe at them angrily. 

“Well, you’re fucking going to have to because I have your fucking car keys,” he yells. With a curse, you slam your fist against the door, screeching again with rage.

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