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Fanfiction Ideas that I’ll probably never write

1. 1920s gangster au King Harald Finehair x reader 

-  Working undercover for the cops of New York City as a nightclub singer in the era of prohibition. You want revenge for the murder of your father.  Things get complicated as your flirtation with one of the most dangerous gangsters of New York gets closer to genuine feelings.

Confession time: I have never actually watched Vikings. 

Hold the gasps please.

I do have a potential modern AU story idea floating around in my head of Mob Boss Ivar where the Reader is the wife/girlfriend of his rival who could possibly be Oleg or an OMC.

I feel like I read enough about Ivar that I have a fair understanding of his character. But let’s be real, I should probably watch the show.

Is it absolutely necessary that I start it from the beginning or will I be okay starting at season 4? I’m not bothered at spoiling things from myself. I just don’t think I have the patience to go through three seasons before AHA makes an appearance.

The Secret Visit

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1065

Summary: Vikings are known to bury their treasures. Ivar, on the other hand, chooses to keep his most precious treasure in a cabin in the woods.

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: I is not good at titles but hey, it’s my first Viking fic! This may be a series in the future. Maybe? Possibly? We’ll see. 

----

The fire going at the front of the cabin became brighter as Ivar approached the clearing. Although the festivities at the Great Hall were still going and had no signs of settling down, he quietly excused himself from the celebration, hoping he drew no attention from his exit. He stepped off his chariot, nodding his head to the two men standing guard at the door before making his way in. They were one of few who knew what was housed here.

He slumped into the chair with a grunt, taking off his armor before bending over to loosen and take off his braces. While this last raid was very much fruitful, the journey back home was met with storms and rough seas. Ivar tried to keep in mind that it was Thor celebrating their success but was irritated that it was getting in the way of what was supposed to be a quick trip back to Kattegat.

The braces made a loud clang as he threw it on the table. He lowered himself down to the ground and crawled towards the back of the cabin. He could hear the soft snores coming from the bed, surprised you still slept as he knew he wasn’t exactly trying to keep quiet. After getting in and under all the furs, he scooted closer to you and laid a hand on your waist.

Your body was facing towards him as you slept on. He tucked a loose curl behind your ear before gently caressing your cheek with the back of his finger when he suddenly felt the press of cold metal against his neck. Ivar sat upright in the bed, pulling away from you to look down and see a small knife in your grip.

“And what is this?” he asked incredulously as he clasped your wrist to hold your hand steady. “How did you get this?”

“Ivar?” Bringing the knife down and away from him, you blinked a few times to adjust your eyes to the poorly lit room. “I thought one of your men decided to get too friendly with me.”

“Again, I ask: how did you get this?” he questioned, taking the weapon from you.

“I found it...on Hallfred’s waist,” you avoided Ivar’s gaze as you stated this. You don’t know why you felt ashamed to admit this when his guards should have been keeping good inventory on their personal weapons.

“And the little thief strikes again,” he chortled, recalling how you would try to get your hands on any weapon when he first brought you here. “Well, I think my men will need another talking to about the importance of keeping all sharp things away from my precious guest.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Guest.”

“Y/N, not this again.” Ivar brought his fist to his forehead in frustration, shaking his head.

Sitting up in the bed, you fold your arms against your chest, “If I am not your prisoner, then why do I need guards to keep eyes on me at all times? I can’t even bathe at the falls without them following.”

“They watched you bathe?” His eyes glared toward the front of the cabin where his most trusted men stood. At least he thought he could trust them as he held a tight grip around the knife still in his hand. He made a move to get out of bed but your hand against his bare chest stopped him.

“Focus, Ivar,” you quietly chastised as you took the knife away from him before setting it down on the bed between you two.

Now remembering the second reason why he was here, he untied a pouch from his pants. “I don’t think prisoners get presents from their captors.” He pulled out the red beaded necklace from the pouch, clasping it around your neck. “I was told that it is hundreds of years old and once belonged to a beautiful queen. So it is only right for it to be worn by the most beautiful queen I know.”

You grasped the necklace between your fingers to examine the piece of jewelry, “Oh, so did Freydis not want it then?” You smirked, knowing how much it angered him when you reminded him of the wife that he leaves behind in Kattegat every time he comes to visit you.

He gave a long exhale, it was obvious he was trying to reign in his frustration with you, “I just thought of you when I saw it and wanted you to have it as a thank you for waiting here for me.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you averted your gaze and pursed your lips.

Picking up the discarded knife, Ivar looked down on it before he reached over you to set it on the bedside table, “Hmm...I think you did have a choice, my little Queen, and since you’re still here and my guards are still alive, looks like you made the right one. Now enough talking,” He pushed you back onto the bed so that he could lay his head on your chest as he snaked his arms around your waist, “I’ve been traveling for over six moons and I'm too tired to keep fighting with you.”

You got started on undoing his braids, a ritual of yours whenever he decided to stay the night. “You know, I never really cared for jewelry.”

His gentle laugh sounded muffled with his mouth pressed against your breast, “Once again you confirm my suspicions that you just may be the oddest queen that has ever lived.”

You began to comb your fingers through his hair, your nails softly scraping against his scalp.You could feel his small moans through your nightdress, his warm breath tickling your skin. 

“Maybe…” you started and couldn’t help but grin when you heard him groan out. You were sure he was longing for the time when you didn’t say anything at all. “You could find me a book the next time you’re gone.”

He lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face had gone soft at your simple request. “And will you still be here when I return?” he questioned. At this moment, he looked so much different from the Heathen King he once was to you when you first met. Before he had stolen you away. 

You placed a small kiss on his forehead and grinned, “We will see.”

Aw, thank you! 🥰🥰

The Secret Visit

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1065

Summary: Vikings are known to bury their treasures. Ivar, on the other hand, chooses to keep his most precious treasure in a cabin in the woods.

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: I is not good at titles but hey, it’s my first Viking fic! This may be a series in the future. Maybe? Possibly? We’ll see. 

—-

The fire going at the front of the cabin became brighter as Ivar approached the clearing. Although the festivities at the Great Hall were still going and had no signs of settling down, he quietly excused himself from the celebration, hoping he drew no attention from his exit. He stepped off his chariot, nodding his head to the two men standing guard at the door before making his way in. They were one of few who knew what was housed here.

Keep reading

When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1492

Summary: Ivar finds more than just gold when he raids the Kingdom of Powys.

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: Oh, looky! I’m back with another one about my new favorite couple. And I’m also back with my bad titles :) Figured I should go back to when our couple first met. It’s not quite an easy start.

 ----

 “Who is she?” Ivar questioned the eleven prisoners kneeled before him, the last of King Fremund’s men sent from Gwynedd to help defend the Kingdom of Powys. Even with the swords and knives held against their necks, they stayed silent much like the stubborn woman in his tent. “Am I not speaking the right language? Maybe we should start ripping you open slowly, one by one, until I can get my point across.”

The shudder he heard let him know that he was being understood clearly but still no one spoke. He signaled to one of his men to commence cutting into the first prisoner in line while he went over to stand next to Hvitserk, hoping he’d get some answers soon.

“I don’t understand why you care so much about this woman, Ivar? Just put her with the other thralls,” He contested before taking a sip from his horn. Both brothers unphased by the shouts and screams in the background.

“There’s just a mystery about her. These Christians don’t typically let their women pick up a sword yet she fought as valiantly as their strongest man,” he praised. Though small in stature, you were hard not to notice as you sped down the hill even faster than some of your men. No fear or hesitation on your face. Not even after you were captured, especially not after you spat in his face when asked for your name.

Hvitserk gave him a disinterested shrug. “Maybe they just decided to let this one fight?,” he countered.

“Did you not see how they formed a wall around her when we had them surrounded? Why go through all that effort even if she was a common shieldmaiden?,” he wondered, mostly to himself. He didn’t think his brother was as invested in this puzzle as he was.

Whatever flippant answer Hvitserk was about to offer was cut off by a guttural scream from the tortured prisoner, begging his captors to stop.

Ivar raised his eyebrow at his brother before walking over to the man tied on the table. Blood from the deep cut through his stomach was pooling down onto the surface he was laid on. Leaning down to bring his ear close to the prisoner’s mouth, a smirk slowly crept across his face as he heard his whispers. 

He stood up straight and pointed towards the remaining prisoners, “Kill them all including their very helpful friend here, they’re no use to me now.” He began walking to the direction of his tent. “I think I’m going to pay our important guest a visit.”

----

You were being held in a tent separate from your men, tied to the pole in front of you. The rope burned your now bloodied wrists as you struggled to get loose. You first tried to untie them but just like your captors, their knots were equally as ruthless.

You didn’t plan for this. You had seen yourself celebrating the Heathens’ defeat with your men or dying a true warrior’s death with your sword in hand on the battlefield. You even accepted that you may be a target of your husband’s wrath once he found out you ran off yet again but being captured by the enemy never entered your mind as a possibility.

A scream that sounded off in the distance reminded you of all the stories you heard about what these men were known to do to their enemies. In desperation, you began to lean back away from your bonds, praying the blood seeping down your hands would help you slip through. You probably shouldn’t have spat in their king’s face. Better yet, you should have listened to your men when they pleaded to you to let them escort you back to Gwynedd but your stubborn pride wanted just one taste of a fight.

“And what would be your plan after you got loose?” a melodic voice broke through your panicked grunts. You jumped at the sound, maneuvering your way around the pole, desperate to have something between you and the Heathen King. “I have three of my men standing guard out front, not to mention everyone else in my camp. Would you fight them all?”

You hoped that he would take your silence as an act of brave defiance and not because you didn’t consider your next move if you ever got loose from your binds. If you were fated to die, you’d rather have someone remember you as brave instead of stupid.

He slowly walked closer to you to take your hands into his one, gently caressing one of your wounded wrists, “Still nothing to say?” He held his hands up as if he meant no harm when you pulled your wrists away from him. “I’m going to ask you this one more time, little one, and do try to not spit in my face again: who are you?”

You chose to lower your head at his question as if the answer could be found on your face. With his axe underneath your chin, he brought your head up to look at him.

“I think it’s best you know that sometimes I can be a very impatient man and don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned while looking straight into your eyes. The edge of his axe threatened to dig into your skin but still you refused to answer him. He titled his head to the side and pulled his weapon away from you before he started chuckling, “I’m kidding, I already heard enough from one of your men. I must say, you’re a very interesting woman. Most queens would try to use their status as a bargaining chip but not you.”

Upon seeing your eyes widened in surprise, he had his confirmation, “Hmm..I assumed he was lying to me when he said I had the Queen of Gwynedd in my hands. Some men will say anything when they’re being gutted like a fish. Maybe you could at least tell me why would King Fremund send such a precious thing,” he reached out his hand to caress your cheek but you shied away from his touch, “out to fight while he sits comfortably on his throne.”

You chose to look straight ahead instead of answering him.

“That’s fine, Little Queen. Stay quiet,” he whispered as he smoothed his hand down your hair before making a move toward the tent entrance. “I’m sure your men will have plenty to say if they don’t want to have the same fate as their friend.”

“No!” You cried out to him. You didn’t want to be responsible for anymore lives lost from those who were sworn to protect you. “Just don’t...don’t hurt anyone else. I had ordered them not to say anything.”

“Well I will see to it that no more of your men will be harmed. I swear.” The feeling at the pit of your stomach told you not to trust his words or the smile on his face. “So why would Fremund send you to fight for him?”

“He didn’t. He doesn’t even know that I am here,” you gave out a frustrated sigh as you pressed your forehead against the wood in front of you, “Only the few men I have left here, and now you, are aware of my whereabouts.”

“You looked very comfortable with a sword and I’m sure he’s aware that you have the heart of a fighter. If he’s a smart man, wouldn’t he think of coming to Powys to look for you?”

“No, he thinks that I would never have the courage to run into battle. That I should only be a proper queen, not a silly girl with silly dreams,” you willingly locked eyes with him as you admitted this. 

Looking down at the rope around your wrists, you guessed that Fremund was right. You were just a silly girl acting out a fantasy. You took some consolation in the fact that if you die, then you would never have to hear him say that he told you so.

He lifted your head up with his axe once again so that he could look you in the eyes one last time, “It’s a shame he probably won’t ever know that he had such a strong Queen by his side.” 

You closed your eyes and held your breath, waiting for the blade to cut through your neck. Instead you heard it whack into the pole before your arms fell down at your side. Your brow was furrowed in confusion as you opened your eyes.

“As my guest, it’s only right that you get a chance to make yourself more comfortable before we leave.” He walked towards the entrance of the tent but paused right before he made his exit, turning to look back at you. “Y/N, do not take advantage of my kindness. You try to run away from me, I will see to it that you can’t run again.”

----

Tags: @soleil-dor​ @tsumamibaddie​ @hotarubi-the-firefly​ @walkxthexmoon​ @ivarsgoddess​ @youbloodymadgenius​

You’re in luck! There definitely will be more! 😁😁

When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1492

Summary: Ivar finds more than just gold when he raids the Kingdom of Powys.

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: Oh, looky! I’m back with another one about my new favorite couple. And I’m also back with my bad titles :) Figured I should go back to when our couple first met. It’s not quite an easy start.

—-

“Who is she?” Ivar questioned the eleven prisoners kneeled before him, the last of King Fremund’s men sent from Gwynedd to help defend the Kingdom of Powys. Even with the swords and knives held against their necks, they stayed silent much like the stubborn woman in his tent. “Am I not speaking the right language? Maybe we should start ripping you open slowly, one by one, until I can get my point across.”

The shudder he heard let him know that he was being understood clearly but still no one spoke. He signaled to one of his men to commence cutting into the first prisoner in line while he went over to stand next to Hvitserk, hoping he’d get some answers soon.

Afficher davantage

😊😊😊 Thank you so much! I’ll hopefully have the next part up soon!

When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1492

Summary: Ivar finds more than just gold when he raids the Kingdom of Powys.

Warnings: None.

Author’s Note: Oh, looky! I’m back with another one about my new favorite couple. And I’m also back with my bad titles :) Figured I should go back to when our couple first met. It’s not quite an easy start.

—-

“Who is she?” Ivar questioned the eleven prisoners kneeled before him, the last of King Fremund’s men sent from Gwynedd to help defend the Kingdom of Powys. Even with the swords and knives held against their necks, they stayed silent much like the stubborn woman in his tent. “Am I not speaking the right language? Maybe we should start ripping you open slowly, one by one, until I can get my point across.”

The shudder he heard let him know that he was being understood clearly but still no one spoke. He signaled to one of his men to commence cutting into the first prisoner in line while he went over to stand next to Hvitserk, hoping he’d get some answers soon.

Lees verder

Lost

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1559

Summary: Reader gets lost in the forest after Ivar decides to let her go.

Author’s Note: Just me here, still trying to lay down some foundation about these two. Don’t worry, Reader will stop being such a little shit eventually.

More from The Stolen Queen: When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen The Secret Visit

----

Ivar knew something was amiss when he saw the door of the cabin was closed and latched on the outside. He figured you must have tried to run off again until he noticed one of his guards missing from his post.

“Arn, where is Vali?” When the remaining guard pointed toward a covered up mound near the tree line, he rubbed his face in frustration. His absence was meant to placate you and curtail your deadly behavior, not fuel it. “And what did she get a hold of this time?”

This was the second guard you managed to get rid of in the past month since you’ve lived here. Either you was more deceitful than he gave you credit for or he just had a habit of picking stupid men to watch over you. Considering that you were previously caught with various weapons stolen from the more naive of the guards, he figured it was a combination of the two.

“Last week's dinner.” He tossed the weapon to Ivar “She sharpened a chicken bone into a spike and got him good in the neck. It's a pretty decent weapon too, imagine if it was something bigger.” The large man had a rare hint of a smile on his face, looking like a proud father.

“You find this is amusing?”

Arn shrugged, “I didn’t care for him all that much. Never shut his mouth. Guess I don’t have to worry about that now.”

“I’m starting to think that you and her are in this together,” Ivar shook his head as he went to unlatch and open the door.

You were standing with your back against the pillar, your arms tied behind you. Rolling your eyes as soon as you saw him enter the cabin, you leaned your head back, choosing to stare at the rafters instead.

He took a seat at the table in front of you, gently placing the offending weapon at the center before interlacing his fingers in his lap. “What am I going to do with you, Y/N?”

“You could always let me go.” You stated bluntly, shifting around in your binds. He wasn’t sure exactly how long you’ve been standing there but he imagined you were starting to get uncomfortable. You brought your head back down to look at him, “Or would you just make sure that I can’t run again?”

Ivar seemed to usually be caught between irritation and amusement when it came to you. Defiant wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you. You had tried to run off on your first morning at the cabin but was quickly stopped by his guards. When he arrived that night, he had expected to find a scared little queen who would beg for his forgiveness by any means necessary. Instead you stood in front of him with your head held high, daring him to do as he promised. At that moment, he found himself unable to keep his word. He had you locked in for the rest of the week until you were on your best behavior.

“I think I’ve been a very considerate host. I make sure that you’re well fed, that you’re clothed in the best dresses, that you sleep under the warmest furs. But still you try to leave or you kill my men. Why? I’ve treated you better than I would most of my family.” With the help of his crutch, he stood from the table and walked over to you. He bent at the waist so he could be at your eye level. 

You turned your head to the wall to avoid his gaze, refusing to say anything to him.

He grabbed a hold of your jaw and forced you to look at him. “Do you even know where you are? Or which way you need to go to get back home? You’re safer here, I’m only keeping you here for your own good, my little queen.” His hold on you softened, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. He walked around behind you to loosen the rope around your arms.

Falling over onto your hands and knees after taking a first step, your legs weakened after having to stand for too long. You rolled over to sit on the floor and look up at him as he walked over to sit on the bed.

Ivar propped his chin on his crutch, raising his brows, “You want to leave? So go. I won’t stop you.”

You slowly rose to your feet with some uncertainty. He couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that was bubbling up inside as he watched you walk out the door. Even though he knew you would be back, he had wished that you had chosen to stay.

Arn rushed into the cabin, looking confused after witnessing you run off, “Are you really letting her go?,” he questioned.

 “Let her tire herself out and then bring her back,” he ordered before laying back onto the bed to rest his eyes. “I doubt she will get far. She’s a fierce fighter but I don’t think navigation is one of her strengths.”

----

Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you kept running but you couldn’t stop now. Refusing to believe Ivar would simply let you go without a fight, you were determined to get as much distance between you and the guard that you were sure was sent after you. You were too busy checking behind you once again when you felt your feet fall out from under you, taking a hard tumble down a small hill. 

You saw stars and felt the air knocked out of you when your back finally hit the ground. Letting out a groan, you rolled onto your hands and knees. You tried to stand but the sharp pain from your ankle brought you back down. You considered staying put for the rest of the night but the snap of a branch from afar reminded you that that wouldn’t be the best plan. With all the strength you had left, you managed to get back up and limp away. 

You gritted your teeth through the pain as you kept walking. The branches and leaves of the trees above you had obscure your view of the moon, making it hard for you to tell how long you’ve been going now. You paused to take in your surroundings, looking for any sign you were headed in the right direction. You thought you would have been out of the other end of the forest by now.

“No, no, no,” you cried out loud to yourself when you noticed the felled tree you were sure you had already passed moments ago. There was no possible way that you were walking around in a circle. Collapsing onto your knees in exhaustion, everything seemed to be spinning around you now even though you were still.

You laid on your side, curling into yourself on the forest floor in a sad attempt to keep warm. You had only shut your eyes for a brief moment before you opened them again and found yourself staring at a familiar face. 

The woman was lying beside you, looking the same as she did the last time you saw her. The white war markings around her face stood in stark contrast to her deep brown skin, her long, thick braids wrapped around her golden crown.

“Mama,” you called out softly in a language you haven’t spoken in many years, “I’m afraid that I’m lost.”

You felt the warmth of her hand as she caressed your cheek. “You are never truly lost. Our God has led you to where you need to be. My dearest daughter, the destined wife of the beast-- her end will mark the beginning of his downfall but she will birth the hope he needs to rise again.”

When your mother first foretold this prophecy, you regarded it more as a scary tale than anything else. “Well, God has led me to be lost. I didn’t understand the words he spoke through you then and I still don’t understand now,” you admitted.

“Don’t worry, it will become clear to you soon. Now rest your eyes, my brave girl.” You knew she wasn’t really with you but you could have sworn you felt her hand smooth down your hair 

Waking to the crunching of leaves on the ground, you felt as if you were floating in the air.  You opened your eyes to see Arn’s weathered face above you. You looked past him, gazing up at the hint of reds dusting the sky that was peeking through the forest canopy. How long had you been out?

You were contemplating whether it was worth struggling out of his hold when you heard her again, repeating the last words she ever spoke to you, “Be not afraid, you’ll be safe with him. He’s taking you home. Home to your king.” Resting your eyes once again, you allowed yourself to be lulled by sounds of the forest around you.

When Arn finally laid you down on your bed, you rolled over away from him, waiting until you heard his retreating steps out of the cabin. You finally allowed yourself to weep after growing tired of trying to remain strong. Your mother must have had it wrong, you were still lost and so far from home.

----

Tags:  @youbloodymadgenius​ @tsumamibaddie​ @walkxthexmoon @ivarsgoddess​ @akaward-potato​  @spotgaai2000

(Sorry if you get a notification for this again, had to fix my tags)

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​

My Teeny Tiny Masterlist

Because I’m hoping I will write more, so might as well get this started.

Alex Høgh Andersen

Luck Be a Lady | One  Two Three

Reader was looking forward to a simple girls trip to Vegas to celebrate her birthday but it looks like it may turn to something more.

Cybersex 

Alex hasn’t heard his girlfriend’s voice in a week and becomes moody. But luckily an impromptu FaceTime session turns his frown upside down.

Ivar the Boneless

The Stolen Queen  When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen | Ivar finds more than just gold when he raids the Kingdom of Powys.  Lost | Reader gets lost in the forest after Ivar decides to let her go. The Secret Visit | Vikings are known to bury their treasures. Ivar, on the other hand, chooses to keep his most precious treasure in a cabin in the woods. 

In My Sights |  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.

You know I’ll be sure to let you know if there’s ever a part 2! 😉

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. This idea popped into my head while I was trying to fall asleep. So I chose to stay up to write half of it and stayed up again to write the other half. I’m going to be miserable at work…

—-

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.

Keep reading

Well, this just pairs too well with the French King Ivar (or AHA) AU idea that has been floating in my head where the reader is an official mistress.

🌷 cottage black girl mood board 🕊

sources: x x x x x x x x

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

My Teeny Tiny Masterlist

Because I’m hoping I will write more, so might as well get this started.

Alex Høgh Andersen

Luck Be a Lady | One  Two Three

Reader was looking forward to a simple girls trip to Vegas to celebrate her birthday but it looks like it may turn to something more.

Cybersex 

Alex hasn’t heard his girlfriend’s voice in a week and becomes moody. But luckily an impromptu FaceTime session turns his frown upside down.

Ivar the Boneless

The Stolen Queen  When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen | Ivar finds more than just gold when he raids the Kingdom of Powys.  Lost | Reader gets lost in the forest after Ivar decides to let her go. The Secret Visit | Vikings are known to bury their treasures. Ivar, on the other hand, chooses to keep his most precious treasure in a cabin in the woods. 

In My Sights | I II

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.

Thank you! 💚💚💚 Figured Reader needed someone to provide her some spiritual guidance. 😬

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.

Afficher davantage

Question

What is Ivar’s tattoo? Because one looks like a chicken to me. 😆

Just trying to do research for a Ivar/Tattoo Artist Reader one shot I probably have no business writing but yet here we are.

Learning

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 2161

Summary: Ivar is able to learn more about Reader as her walls slowly comes down.

Author’s Note: I’ve been slow with updating anything. With work and all the things going on in the world, I’ve been much like the reader and preferred to stay in bed all time. Hopefully, I can get back into the groove because I do enjoy entertaining you all with the ideas that pop up in my head.

The Stolen Queen: When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen Lost The Secret Visit

----

The knot on the wooden plank across from you seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. You were lying in bed with your arm hanging off the edge and no intention of moving. It seemed like today was going to be the same as the rest. Your ankle was getting better and you could finally put some weight on it but that still didn’t give you enough motivation to step outside.

There wasn’t much of a point. You could only sit in silence with Arn so many times and watch as he sharpened his sword or gutted whatever animal you'd be feasting on that day. Even if he were more of a conversationalist, he knew no Saxon and there were only a few Norse words you could understand. You two were limited on the ways you were able to get your point across to each other. 

Like a few moments ago when he plopped a plate of food onto the bed. He pointed at your lunch, acted like he was spooning it to his mouth before he crossed his arms and waited for you to make your move. You nibbled on a slice of meat just to appease the older man enough to leave you alone. Once he made his exit, you dropped the morsel immediately and went back to staring at the wall.

Your eyes grew heavy as you slowly drifted off for the third time that day. You spent most of your days asleep. Ever since the last time you ran off, you realized that it was only in your dreams when you could escape from these four walls, getting lost in past memories. Some good, some bad, and some that hadn’t crossed your mind since you were younger...

It was the sound of a clay pot crashing right outside your room that woke you from your nap. You stood on the tip of your toes over your pile of blankets to take a peek out of the window. The usual bustle of the marketplace was replaced with panic as people tried to quickly pack up their stalls. Mothers had their children in their arms as they ran from the town center.

The shouting from the other room had you hopping off your bed and quietly walking toward the archway. Your mother and Sigbert, her loyal guard and friend, hovered over the table, looking over the battle plans. The white paint on her face was smudged and now replaced with blood but you weren’t sure if it was hers or someone else’s.

Sigbert pounded his fist against the table causing one of the figurines to tumble onto the ground. “Dammit, Rasha! More than half your warriors are gone. We must leave while there is still time. I know King Wuldric would insist on your safe return to Essex.”

Your mother hung her head as if in silent defeat. Her braids dusted the table below her. “My people need their queen and that far outweighs any need of a foreign king,” her voice was just above a whisper. You had to poke your head out of the archway just to hear her clearly. “You need to return to Essex and you need to take Y/N with you. There is no one else I trust more with her life.”

“You cannot stop them,” Sigbert tried to reason with her one last time.

“Then I will have to die trying.” She looked over to you. “I’ll take comfort that my legacy will live on through her.” Your lip began to wobble when you saw her tears flowing, pulling the red and white coloring down her face. You’ve never seen your mother with such sadness in her eyes and you didn’t know why but it frightened you.

Picking you up, she smoothed your hair back as she tried to stop your tears. “Y/N, Be not afraid, you’ll always be safe with Sigbert. He’s taking you home. Home to your king.” She pressed a kiss against your temple, holding you tight to her before passing you over to your new guardian.

As he carried you off to his waiting horse, you reached out your small hand to her, calling out for her, “Mama! Mama!”

You woke up to the bed shifting next to you. You peaked over your shoulder to find Ivar sitting next to you, picking at the food still left on your plate. Though most days you didn’t feel like seeing him, you didn’t feel particularly up to it today.

“Do you know you mumble gibberish in your sleep?” he questioned before shoveling your leftovers in his mouth. “Arn says you’ve stopped eating. Is something wrong with you? Do you need the healer?”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” You turned your head away from him, focusing on the knot in the wall again. You heard the clink of the plate being set on the floor before the bed dipped right behind you. 

“You know you can talk to me, you don’t have to be afraid.” His warm body was close to you as you felt him twirling your hair around his finger. 

You could only laugh mockingly, refusing to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“You can. Anything you say here will not get you in trouble.”

You rolled over to face him, “Anything? Like I can tell how much I dream of climbing on top of you.” His eyes widened as you straddled his waist before you leaned down to press your forearm against his neck. “So I can slice open your throat or stab you in the heart.”

Your threat must have fallen on deaf ears when he smiled up at you, his hands slowly sliding up your thighs and under your dress, “Maybe if you get a hold of another chicken bone, you’ll get your wish.”

You smacked your hand on his chest in annoyance before climbing off him and the bed. Stomping out of the cabin to get some distance from him, you tried to not focus too much on the jolt of electricity that flowed through your body when his rough hands were on you.

You could hear him getting off the bed and the strike of his crutch hitting the ground as he made his way outside.

“Come with me,” Ivar ordered as he passed by you and walked over to his chariot. 

You slowly followed him with your arms crossed in front of your chest, standing by and watching as he climbed in. You raised a brow when he held his hand out to you.

“You could walk along with me, my queen, but I think it’ll be faster if you ride with me.”

Pushing his hand away, you grabbed onto the side of the chariot and you pulled yourself in. 

He chuckled as he grabbed the reins. “Still stubborn as ever, I see. Maybe nothing is wrong with you.”

---

It felt like it didn’t take long for the horse and chariot to break through the edge of the forest. The trees had cleared out, exposing the bluff that was in the distance. Ivar would come here when he needed to be truly alone with his thoughts but with trying to visit you and with his duties as King, there hadn’t been enough time to come back. 

He had been away for some time, busy checking on the stronghold at York. He had hoped you’d be more welcoming to his presence when he arrived at the cabin instead he was informed by Arn that you rarely left your bed and were barely eating despite his efforts. Ivar thought that a change in scenery would heal whatever was ailing you.

When the chariot came to a stop, you made a move to climb out but he gently pushed you back before he stepped down and, once again, held his hand out to you. Rolling your eyes, you finally took his hand and his assistance in getting out from the chariot. 

He propped himself up against a large boulder, watching you as you walked toward the edge of the cliff, taking in the view of the bay. You closed your eyes while you took in the ocean air, wind whipping your long curls around as you stood still.

Backing away from the edge, you started making your way towards him. “Is all of that down there your kingdom?”

Ivar tried to not be so excited that you were initiating the conversation for once. “It is. You sound surprised.”

“Well, with how boastful you are, I assumed it to be much smaller,” you smirked as you took a seat on the grass not too far away from him. 

While he would have been content sitting in silence with you, there was a question weighing on his mind since he took you from Powys. “Why did you run away?”

“You let me go so I--”

“No, from your kingdom, from your husband.”

You continued to stare straight ahead as if you needed a moment to consider your answer, “I was tired of it. Tired of being his queen.”

Ivar snorted at your response and looked down at you incredulously, “You are an odd woman. You could ask any woman in Kattegat if they would want to be a queen and I don’t think one would tell you no.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be a queen. I didn’t want to be his queen. I don’t think I desire to be any man’s queen if they’re anything like a Fremund. I’d rather be a queen without a king.”

“There’s a simple solution for that. Just get rid of your king.” He suggested as he made a slow, slicing motion across his neck.

You laughed at what he was insinuating, “I can’t say that the thought never crossed my mind. I think I’d be dead if I ever tried.”

“When we first met, you said that he wanted you to be a proper queen. What would that be?”

“According to Fremund? One that is only seen and not heard. Just a piece of decoration in the room when he’s entertaining other kings or earls,” your voice was dripping with disdain. “My father once told me that iron sharpens iron. ‘A great king should have no intention of trying to change, control, or silence his queen. He should want her to be as strong and as outspoken as him because her strength is a reflection of his own.’ I learned early on in my marriage that my husband didn’t share the same views.”

Ivar didn’t miss the way you touched the side of your face as if you were recalling a bad memory. He wondered if your usual unwillingness to talk wasn’t just because of your need to defy or irritate him but that it was an ingrained trait.

You stared down at the ground, plucking the grass. “That’s when I started to run away. But his men would always find me. I became a prisoner in my own kingdom. He surrounded me with handmaids and his guards and decreed that I was to never be left alone.” You cut your eyes to him with an irritated look on your face. “It’s funny that I am so far from Gwynedd, yet his order still holds.” 

He constantly wondered how he could convince you to accept your new home. But he now realized that your instinct was to run when someone tried to control and hold you back. “I think I owe you an apology, Y/N. Maybe I was mistaken to have you kept so close to the cabin. You should be free to explore the lands you live on or to even come back here if you wish.”

You looked pensive as you considered what he was telling you. “So I’m still your prisoner but with a larger jail cell?”

“You will be my guest. I’m giving you the freedom to roam and live as if you were a queen without a king. But you must understand I can’t leave you alone. It’s for your protection. I think we both know that you would get lost in the forest and die if you were left on your own.”

You nodded along in agreement. The furrow of your brow had him prepared for whatever clever comment was about to exit your mouth. “Why haven’t you punished me for going against you?” you wondered. “Fremund would have at least backhanded me for less.”

Ivar walked over to you, offering his hand to you. The sun was getting low, he was needing to get you back home. “Because I am not your husband, I’m not a weak king.”

Without any resistance or roll of your eyes, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to help you up.

He led you to the chariot with his hand at the small of your back. “And I can appreciate a strong queen when she’s right next to me.”

----

Endnote: The quote from Reader’s father is actually one I found from a quick google search. Here’s the actual quote:

“A king had no intention of trying to change, control, or “shut up” a queen. He wants his woman to be as strong and tactfully outspoken as him, with her own mind, because he knows, his woman’s strength is a reflection of his. Iron sharpens iron.”—ebrahim aseem

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Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​ @walkxthexmoon​ @ivarsgoddess​ @tsumamibaddie​ @akaward-potato​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @castielsangelsx​

(Edited to fix tags. 😒)

@xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff 💚💚💚 thank you so much for the tags, my dears!

Honestly, I have been a bit (okay, a lot!) absent from the fandom and tumblr in general due to real life stuff taking up most of my attention. But when I do come back on, I see a fair amount of Vikings posts. Is it as much as it used to be when I first joined the fandom months ago? Probably not but I assume it will pick up when the second half of the final season is released.

I do agree with what’s been said above that there’s a lot of talented writers being overlooked because they’re not the most popular blogs. Just because their posts don’t have a lot of kudos doesn’t mean it’s not good. Try to give them a chance!

Also if you have a favorite writer or fan account, pay attention to who they follow or who they reblog because it could lead you to some good stuff! That’s how I found a lot of the people who’ve been previously tagged!

And going back to reblogs. There is a lack of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the hell out of all the likes I get but, with the way tumblr works, reblogging is the only way to boost your posts. So be kind and rewind reblog when you can.

And to add to the list of people to look for:

@abonelessgod | A Nun’s Tale! If you haven’t read it, you need to!

@castielsangelsx | Check out their Masterlist, they has some good Ivar fics!

is it just me or is the Viking fandom slowly dying? 🥺😖 plsss don’t let it go!!!

Second Chance

Masterlist

Pairing: Original Male Character/Original Female Character, Ivar/Female Reader

Word Count: 4,129

Summary: A young woman doesn’t realize there’s more to her boyfriend...until it’s too late.

Warnings: Schmut, Oral (female receiving), restraints, dubious consent, safeword denial, rape, non consent choking, murder, mention of drug use

Author’s note: hi! I’m still alive. 😊 Life has been just a tad bit difficult for me (and for the rest of the world too) so I just haven’t had the motivation to write. Anywho, I actually intended to post this for Halloween but I got stuckity stuck stuck. If you’re still with me even after all those warnings, I hope you enjoy!

When her boyfriend first brought her to his home after their fifth date, she noted the quiet of his neighborhood which differed greatly from the bustle of the city that was always outside of her own window. Four months later, she found herself pressed against his door, sending a silent prayer up to any available deity in hopes that A: his neighbors couldn’t hear the lewd noises coming out of his townhouse and B: he would never ever ever stop twirling his tongue around her aching clit.

She banged her head against the door as another loud moan ripped from her throat. Her hands, which were completely useless at muffling her cries, were now holding onto her lover’s locks while she rolled herself against his face.

If she weren’t so hungry and desperate to come, she would have been disgusted to see the position she was in. Though she wouldn’t exactly call herself a prude, she preferred any sexual activity to take place in a bed with the bedroom door closed. Maybe it was her hormones or the fact that he had been away on a business trip for the past week that when he pushed her against his door and whispered in her ear that he was finally ready for his dessert, she did nothing to stop him from dropping onto his knees. His cane clattering to the ground next to him.

Placing a hand against her chest, she attempted to steady her breath. Her body couldn’t stop shaking as the sweet man below her continued to glide his tongue along her wet folds, lapping up all the juices she had to offer. She wrapped her fingers around the pendant that had fallen between her breasts. A gift he had given her during that night’s date which was a celebration of their four month anniversary. He praised it as the reason why they were together in the first place.

He had brought the necklace into her store to be appraised. Though she was very firm on never getting involved with her customers, especially ones who would have a different woman on their arm every week, she couldn’t resist his smile and found herself jotting down her number for him. She was disappointed that she didn’t see or hear from him again until he finally returned months later. Determined to give him the cold shoulder for ghosting her, she couldn’t help but melt all over again from his charms and agree to let him take her out.

She eyed the piece of jewelry. Though it was not exactly her style as she had preference toward minimalist modern jewelry, she couldn’t deny that it was a gorgeous piece. She found herself instantly drawn to it when he first took it out of the case. It seemed familiar to her as if she'd seen it before but he claimed it had never been on display at another store nor a museum. It was an old heirloom that was kept in the family vault until recently.

When he was a boy, his grandmother told him that it was a treasure found by the ancestor he was named after, a famous king who gifted the necklace to his wife. After the sudden and unexpected death of the beautiful queen, he refused to marry another. With her necklace around his neck, the king felt that she would always be with him and another woman would have only been a poor, lonely substitute. It had been rumored he wore it close to his heart until he was gray and close to death himself, only taking it off to hand over to his most favored nephew.

She wasn't well versed in Norse or Viking history to judge the validity of the old woman’s tale but it was all romantic nonetheless.

“You swear you love it?” Her lover was back on his feet and at her side. Taking the pendant away from her, he held it between his finger and thumb. “We could always find something else if you like.”

“I swear I do. It’s just that you’ve given me so much tonight and I feel guilty that I have nothing to give you in return.” She looked down to the floor when she admitted this.

It’s how she felt for most of their relationship. Her best friend teased her over her guilt and insisted that she should just enjoy being spoiled by her “sugar daddy”, a term she immediately scoffed at. He was more than that to her. It felt as if she waited centuries for him to come into her life. She truly loved him more than any man she had ever known even after only being together for such a short amount of time.

With his fingers under her chin, he lifted her head back up so he could press his lips against hers. She opened her mouth, inviting his tempting tongue to twirl around her own, sharing with her the heady taste of her sex. His hands began traveling down to cup her ass as he walked backwards toward the stairs.

“I’m sure I can think of something you could give me.” He smirked before leading her to his bedroom.

Mere moments later she was laying in the middle of his bed wearing nothing but her new necklace. Arching her back, she gasped when she felt his naked length slide against her clit.

“Do you trust me, my love?” His words felt warm on her neck but still her body shivered.

Furrowing her brow, she thought it to be an odd question to ask at this time but she answered honestly. “I trust you with all of me. My heart, mind, and body. It’s yours.”

“I was thinking we could try something new tonight.” He reached above her head toward his headboard.

The clanging of metal took her aback. Turning her head to the side, she watched as he pulled the shackle from behind the pillow. That was definitely something new. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't into anything too kinky. She tolerated a smack or two on her ass with past boyfriends but being restrained wasn’t exactly her thing.

As she looked into his hopeful eyes, she figured she could at least give it a go once. She took a small gulp, “If I don’t like it, you will take them off, right?”

“Of course, I would. I will never hurt you.”

“Then I guess we could try.” With a small nervous smile, she raised her arms over her head. The click of the metal closing over her wrists made her jump but any lingering fears were washed away with just a press of his lips on her forehead.

Her head pressed back on the pillow when he slipped into her wet heat. The metal bit into her wrists as she pulled at the restraints, her arms aching to wrap themselves around her lover’s body.

“Oh fuck, Christian!” She gasped out as he began to roll his hips against hers.

His body stilled over her, bringing his lips to her ear as if he had a secret to tell, “Could you call me Ivar?”

It shouldn’t have been too odd of a request as it was technically his first name but she had only referred to him by his middle name ever since their initial introduction. He told her that his family, except for a few elderly relatives, and friends have called him Christian since before he could even remember.

Had her head not been so clouded with pleasure, she might have taken a moment to ponder what he was asking. Instead she looked up at him, she bit her lip before flashing him a smirk “Ivar...will you please make me come?”

One thing she was always positive of was that sex with him was never boring. Even from the first time she was with him, it was as if he knew her like the back of his hand and all the things that would draw her to the edge and back. But she never knew of the animal that could be unleashed from just a simple name change.

She wrapped her hands around the chains, trying to hold on for dear life as he slammed his hard length into her. His muffled groans were falling hot and wet against her neck. With her legs hooked up around his hip, she pressed her heels into his ass, pushing him to fuck her harder.

Just as she felt her next orgasm slowly take over her body, his hands circled around her neck. Nervousness began to pool in her belly. This was something she knew she wasn't into.

His moans turned into rough mumbles of a language she couldn’t understand. At first she thought it was the Norse she heard him speak with his family before but this was completely different and, with the sudden roughness of his voice, had her feeling uneasy.

“Christian...Ivar…” she struggled to get out when his hands began to tighten around her. “Stop...can’t breathe.”

She had hoped the rattling of the chains would get his attention but when he finally looked down at her, he didn’t loosen his grip instead he continued his relentless pace. He said he would never hurt her. The tears started to flow from her eyes as her heart began to break.

The pendant that laid against her chest started to become hot, burning her skin while his chants grew louder. It all ended with a roar that echoed in the spacious room as he gave one last thrust when he came inside of her.

Before her vision went black, the last thing she would remember is his eyes changing into an unfamiliar, intense blue. She wasn't sure who this beast on top of her was but she knew this man was no longer her sweet Christian.

----

The only sound left in the room was the unsteady breaths Ivar took as he looked down into her eyes. He waited for them to blink or move, anything to let him know that his love had finally returned to him, that everything he did wasn’t for nothing.

Slipping off to the side and rushing to unlock the shackles, he jostled the still body next to him, hoping the violent shakes would do something. He had been so sure that he followed all the steps correctly and said the right incantations but as more seconds passed, doubt and worry began to overwhelm him.

Ivar took a bruised wrist into his hand, pressing a gentle kiss against it before setting it down next to him, the blood smeared against his lips. “Please come back to me, my love. I can’t go through this again, I can’t spend another lifetime without you.” He stifled his tears as he made his pleas.

He brought his gaze down to the charmed necklace he had gifted you. He glared at it as if he could use his mind to force it to unlock what he desired most. He held the pendant between his fingers, the heat that managed to singe the skin it laid on had already started to dissipate.

Centuries had passed from when you first trapped your soul inside of it.

Though you had survived many battles by his side, the birth of your and Ivar’s son Baldur was more than your body could take. All the spells and potions taught and passed down to you by the women in your family were of no use and only prolonged the inevitable.

Ivar remembered that night clearly. You laid nearly as lifeless then in your large bed as the body next to him now, the dim light of the torches revealing the pallor of your clammy skin. He held your weak hand tightly in his own, refusing to let you go, demanding then begging for you to get better as he was fearful spending the rest of his life without you.

With your last bit of energy, you had conjured a spell that would send your soul into the pendant that adorned your neck upon your last breath, assuring him that you would always be with him as long as he kept it near.

And so he did, only removing it as he laid on the ground of the battlefield, blood spilling from his fatal wound. He enclosed it in the hand of Hvitserk’s youngest son with the strict instruction for him to give it to his expectant wife.

From that moment, a tradition was born. The necklace would be passed down to a favored married relative for the next several centuries, its magic protecting the couples so they would spend a happy lifetime together. Something that it’s original owners were denied of.

It was only until that tradition was broken by Ivar’s 18th great niece who chose to give it to her only unmarried grandson who was as defiant in settling down as he was with using his first name.

The elder woman had simply hoped the necklace’s magic would bewitch Christian into finally finding a wife. She had revealed this to him when he introduced his new girlfriend to her, unaware that she was actually speaking to her ancestor who had miraculously possessed him months ago.

By that time, Ivar had fully adjusted into his new life as Christian Lothbrok. The shock of being in the 21st century was beginning to wear off along with the pounding headaches from the merging of their memories. While he still had no clear answer as to why he woke in his nephew’s bedroom, his nose crusted with cocaine, and not in Valhalla being greeted by the Valkyries, he suspected it had everything to do with the pendant.

He knew his soul had to have been pulled into it just as yours was. But why did it choose to release only him and why did it skip all his other past descendents, forcing him to take over his aimless nephew, a man who Ivar discovered spent the majority of his time blowing through his trust funds and bedding a steady rotation of women.

He didn’t have much of a problem with the latter at first. That is, until he found you.

He nearly tripped over his cane when he walked into the jewelry store and saw you waiting for him behind the counter. Well, the reincarnated version of you who went by a completely different name and had a very cold shoulder.

After much convincing, or more like begging, he quickly got you to warm up to him.

Ivar couldn’t help but rejoice, believing he finally had you back. Unfortunately, it had only taken him two dates and a few late night conversations to realize that he celebrated too soon. While this woman had your looks and kind nature that was where the similarities ended.

She shied away from conflict and covered her eyes during every gore scene of all the horror movies that Ivar had come to love. You, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate plunging your dagger into a man’s eye after he dared to criticize your battle strategy. Gleefully smiling with his blood running down your face, you told him that you hoped he could finally see your point.

He had hoped her simply handling the necklace would allow your past self to possess her but when that didn’t work, he had lost any hope of getting you back. Even the smallest of your spells were beyond his capabilities, forget about the one that could reverse the original spell. So he continued on with his new life, accepting his future with the meek girl.

That is until he received a call from the professor he consulted long ago. They specialized in Vikings history and claimed to have an abundance of knowledge in Volvas and witchcraft even though they knew nothing of any spell runes you left behind nor much about you other than your untimely death. The good for nothing fool finally proved themselves useful, telling Ivar that they’ve uncovered some runes that would be of interest.

The very runes that brought Ivar to where he was now, in bed with a cold body.

He knew he should be worrying over what to do with her corpse. Murder was harder to get away with in modern times than during his first lifetime but still he didn’t feel the need to rush. He was sure there was a member of his family who would be willing to throw enough money to get things covered up for him and keep the Lothbrok name out of the press.

He looked down at her one last time. The poor girl. He never stopped to think that no matter how the night turned out that she would have always been a victim to his desperate selfishness. It wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t the woman he truly desired.

“I’m sorry I did this to you but I had to try.” He lamented out to the quiet of the room. With a soft brush of his hand over her face, Ivar closed her eyes forever.

Sleep never came easy for Ivar, the constant pain in his legs even in this modern age made sure of that, but he knew it would be even harder to come by tonight. He couldn’t escape the frightened look on her face when he closed his eyes. He knew in it his heart it wasn’t truly you who he was killing but still, it pained him. The sounds of her stunted breaths haunted his dreams until the shaking of the bed shocked him out of his slumber

Looking over to his left, he was alarmed to find that the sounds he heard weren't just his guilt tormenting him but was coming from the once deceased woman next to him.

Her back was arched while her head dug into the pillow. Her hands tightly grasped the sheets before suddenly wrapping around her throat, clawing and scratching at the delicate skin as she struggled to take a breath.

Not wanting her to harm herself any further, Ivar was quick to get on top of her and grab hold on her wrists. Her eyes were shut so tight, tears rolled down her cheeks as if she was in the midst of a horrible nightmare.

“Wake up! It’s only a bad dream!” He knew it was a risk. It was likely she would come out of this remembering everything he did to her but he needed to do something fast.

Suddenly, her movements ceased as she inhaled deeply. Ivar was startled by her eyes opening, the color of them changing into something that seemed more familiar to him.

Her eyes widened as they landed on Ivar. He was sure he might have seen a hint of red before she threw a fist into his jaw. She scrambled to get out of bed but, unfortunately for her, he was able to recover fast and wrap his arms around her waist, slamming her back down on the bed. His hands tightened around her wrists, holding her arms down.

“You need to stop and calm down.” Ivar didn’t care that this was the worst set of words to tell a frantic woman, especially one who previously had the life choked out of them.

“Get off of me!” her raspy voice shouted while trying to wrestle her arms out of his grip.

Ivar was sure she didn’t know any modern day Norse nor would she know the language he had grown up speaking. That could only mean...

“Y/N? Please stop it’s me, Ivar” The body below him froze. His heart overjoyed, it worked! Everything he did actually worked!

Spitting into his face, you gave him a look of disgust, “How dare you. You’re not my king.”

You once again tried to buck him off of you but it’s no use as he pressed his body down against yours. He tightened his grasp on your wrists, holding them captive over your head. You began screaming for him to let you go and he knew he had to do something before his neighbors decided to call the police.

“You knew you were going to leave me!” Ivar released a wavering sigh when your screaming stopped and you looked up at him with confusion. “You told Hvitserk that you dreamt of Hel waiting for you by the river. You said you knew she was going to bring you to Helheim soon. You told him to never tell me but you should have known better than to trust Hvitserk with anything.”

Your eyes began to water as you scanned him up and down, carefully studying the man hovering over you, looking for anything else to let you know it was him.

Freeing your arms, he took one of your hands, pressing your palm against his face. “It truly is me, my love. I know you didn’t want me to know because you knew I would have sacrificed all of Kattegat to Hel if she would spare you.”

“Ivar? My Ivar?” you softly questioned, tears welling up in your eyes. “You look a little different.”

He laughed. “I look like our nephew.”

“Our nephew?” Looking around at your surroundings, your brow furrowed in confusion “Where are we? What happ-”

Tightly shutting your eyes, you grimaced in pain before crying out in agony. Ivar knew all too well what you were going through. The constant migraines for months from the memory merge were the worst. He had to get you to the bathroom soon before you made yourself sick in bed.

It was a struggle trying to support your body as he supported his own with his cane while he ushered you into the ensuite bathroom. That was over an hour ago. You both were now seated on the floor next to the toilet. Your head in his lap as his hand smoothed down your hair.

“You know she hated when you did this.” the echo of your voice sounded heavenly to his ears.

Ivar assumed you had fallen asleep moments ago. The whole night had to have taken a toll on your body. “Oh? Going through her memories already?”

You giggled. “As much as I can without my head hurting. She felt like you were treating her like a dog. I rather like it.” You paused as if you were pondering another memory. “Poor thing died so sad, so afraid.”

“It was a small price to pay to have you here with me.”

“She has so many sweet memories with you. It’s surprising that you weren’t gentler with her.”

“I did exactly what the runes said I had to do. ‘To bring back a life, you must take a life.’”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It didn’t have to be by force, Ivar. You could have poisoned her. I’m sure you remember at least a few of my favorite recipes. She could have died peacefully in her sleep. Short and sweet.”

“Well maybe your family should have added that in the footnotes.”

“Did you ever love her more than me?” You pondered, relaxing again to his touch as he went back to running his hand over your hair.

Ivar scoffed at your silly question. “Never. I don’t think it’s possible for me to love anyone more than you.”

You smirked. “Except our son.”

Ivar stilled his movements for a beat before continuing, “Y/N, do you know how all of this happened? I thought your spell would only take your soul into the pendant.”

“I...I‘m really not sure. I thought so too. It was my grandmother’s spell. I only ever heard of her speak of it, I wasn’t sure if it would even work. I just remember wanting to be with you and with Baldur always. I prayed to the Gods and begged for a second chance.”

That must have been it, why he had possessed Christian, why he had found The young woman and ultimately you. The Gods’ favor have finally shone down on them.

“Then we should make the most of this life. We can get married and have a family again. We can grow old together this time.” He pressed a kiss against your temple before whispering into your ear. “This life will be our second chance”

——

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo

I lost my tag list so I tried to go through my comments to find whoever wanted to be updated. If you want to be on this list, let me know.