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#Ivar I Have Something to tell You
miss-madness67 · 7 months
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Mother Knows Best (Ivar)
Prompt: My arranged marriage with Ivar the Boneless was not a surprise. The surprise had been finding out he did not want to lay with me. Are the rumors of his incapabilities true? Is sex the answer to learn to love each other? I do not know. He scares me, but he is no less fascinating. That is why I decided to give him a chance. Slight AU. Ragnar does not die, neither does Aslaug. They rule side by side and decide to ally themselves with the Saxons.
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Mother looks at me across the table. Her eyes are expectant, her expression unamused. She waits for me to say something; to tell her that I am already with child. But because I am not, I remain quiet.
“I would like to know my grandchild, preferably,” she says, “but it would be nice if at least I know you are with child before you leave Wessex.” She gives me a hard stare. Oh, I know she would like that, that’s the reason she has given me plenty of recommendations on how to please my husband in bed. Not that I have applied them.
A month ago, I was given the news that I was to be wed to the youngest of King Ragnar’s sons. A man I hadn’t even met and whose ruthlessness was well known. It was a political marriage. Arranged so our kingdoms would become friends instead of foes. My grandfather, King Ecbert, wanted to have a good relationship with the heathens, so he promised my hand for peace. I always knew I would be married for the good of my kingdom and not love, but that does not mean the news was less disappointing.
The wedding took place two weeks ago, right after the arrival of the Vikings. And as I approached the altar, that was the first time I laid eyes on my husband. His cold demeanor rendered me speechless, but his hard blue-eyed stare sent shivers down my spine. He was sitting on a chair waiting for me. I knew his legs were useless, so that did not surprise me. I tried not to stare during the ceremony but failed miserably. He had looked at me annoyed yet intrigued.
My father, Prince Aethelwulf, was displeased with the marriage, but he had little to no say in the matter. My mother Judith, even though she was in favor of the union, she did not agree with the choice of groom. She thought Ubbe or Sigurd would have been better candidates. King Ragnar himself had chosen Ivar, and my grandfather had agreed with the promise that he would be able to provide children. His ability to lay with a woman had many rumors, but King Ragnar had assured that Ivar was no less of a man in that matter. Not that I would know, because I had yet to lay with him.
The night of our wedding, the bedding ceremony had been canceled due to the Viking’s request. So when I entered the chambers, there was no pressure in laying with him. Yet, I expected he would have wanted me to because he is a man. That had not been the case. That night, we laid side by side in silence until the sun raised. Back then I had been grateful because I did not want to sleep with a man I barely knew, but now I have begun to question myself. Does he not find me attractive? Does he know how to lay with a woman? Is he really not physically able? Does he prefer men?
It is necessary for us to have a child in order to fortify the alliance. That is why my mother had given me tips to please him. I had yet to use them, I feared to do so. In all honesty, I had been afraid of my husband when I first heard of him, and during our wedding. I have heard how he is and I have seen how he treats people. However, that fear has receded ever since. These past two weeks he has been nothing but kind to me, even a little shy. That’s probably the reason why I have started to feel attraction towards him. That and his sharp mind. At first, I did not know how to speak his language. He has been slowly teaching me. And I have seen him playing chess with Alfred, it is honestly fascinating.
“It would be wise for your marriage if you have passion in the bedroom, darling,” my mother says.
I know she means good, and I know she is probably right, but I have to bite my tongue from mentioning her passion with my grandfather. Her marriage with my father is a mere paper. I do not wish my marriage with Ivar to be the same, despite the circumstances. But she does have a point, she has a very good relationship with my grandfather, whom she beds. Sex must be the answer to get closer to Ivar. And maybe, with time, we could learn to love each other. That is a foolish thought, but it is what motivates me to wait naked in bed. He arrives at the dormitory shortly after twelve. He has been drinking with his brothers, but all the inebriation leaves him once he sees me.
“Hello, my…” he does not like it when I call him titles, so I correct myself, “... Ivar. I have been waiting for you.” He does not say anything. Heat accumulates in my face. Does he not like what he sees? I fight the urge to cover myself and hide between the covers. His hands tighten around his crutches.
“What… What are you doing like that? What if someone other than me were to come in?” He questions, he seems angry at the idea, but his eyes do not leave my body.
“I made sure no one other than you were to come inside, my husband,” I whisper. Ivar must notice that I am not completely myself acting like this, because he looks away.
“You don’t have to do that, you know.” He approaches the bed and sits down, his back to me. “I know this is an arranged marriage, we do not have to do anything that you do not want.” His voice is uninterested but his words are sweet. I hesitate.
“I know, but we are expected to bear children.” He tenses. He does not say anything, he starts to take off his leg braces. I wait patiently. The room is colder when he speaks.
“If that is what you wish this is unnecessary, you do not have to remove your camisole.” His voice is harsh and I know I said something I was not supposed to.
“It is not only about that,” I try to correct myself though my voice waivers in nervousness, “I wish… I wish for us to enjoy making children.” It is the most direct way for me to express my desire for him.
He stops what he is doing and turns around. He looks me in the eyes looking for uncertainty. I know he finds none when he drags his body towards me. His arms muscles flex and something knots in my belly. He looms over me with a hungry stare.
When he opens his mouth I think he is about to devour me but he speaks. “Do you not know the rumors? Do you not know what they say?” He does not wait for me to answer, “apparently, I can not please a woman, I can not give children, I am a useless husband.”
I do not hesitate to answer, “I do not listen to rumors, I like to verify for myself,” I put a hand on his chest and the other around his neck. “If it is false, then we shall prove them so, and if it is true, then we shall not give up until we try everything.” He looks doubtful, “I… have learned a few tricks that shall please my husband.”
His surprise is evident when he speaks, “well, I have also learned a few tricks that shall please my wife."
I smile, “then, let us learn from one another.” I do not have time to say anything else before his lips crash with mine.
It is uncertain if we will succeed this night or another, or if we will have children, or if we will learn to love each other. The only thing that I am certain of is that we care for one another. At this moment, in my husband’s arms, I feel like never before.
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axelsagewrites · 3 months
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Where Am I?*Part Three
Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn
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Word count: 1482
Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies
Part one Part two
Masterlist Here
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You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.
When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”
“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”
“Why did she talk to you and not us?”
You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.
“So how does a lighter work?”
“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.
Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”
“Uh…”  you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.
“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.
“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.
“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.
It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”
“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.
Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”
You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”
You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”
You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.
You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.
However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.
“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”
They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”
“Uh…”
-
Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.
“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.
Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.
You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.
“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”
“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.
You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.
“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,
Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,
Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.
“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”
“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”
“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.
You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.
-
 The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”
You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”
“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”
“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.
Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”
Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.
“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.
It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”
“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.
“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.
“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.
Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?
Part four here
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disasterofastory · 4 months
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The good guy (Hvitserk x Reader)
The good guy Hvitserk x Reader Warnings: Reader is a few years older. And let's pretend that the age difference between Bjorn and his brothers is much smaller. Oral.
Summary: mordern!Hvitserk wants to show you he is the one you need.
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The fake leather sticks to the back of your thighs as you push yourself next to the wall in the booth Bjorn chose for the night. A small grimace contorts your face at the uncomfortable feeling. Reaching down, you grab the hem of your skirt to pull on the fabric. Jeans may have been a better choice, but it doesn't matter now.
The pub is loud and smells like cheap beer and spicy snacks. The noises of the others mix with the game playing on the TV in the corner. Your eyes land on the screen for a second, and when the ball doesn't reach the goal, your attention turns back to the pair in front of you.
Bjorn and his girlfriend sit next to each other. The blonde man's arm is around the girl's shoulder. She is busy with her beer while her eyes scan the crowded place. Her makeup softly glints under the lights as she turns her head to the side. "Hvitserk and Ubbe will be there in a few," Bjorn says after a few seconds. His bright eyes are still on the screen of his phone. "Torvi too." "Won't it be awkward?" You ask him, glancing at Gunnhild. "It's fine," the man replies. "It was two years ago."
Their relationship didn't end well between them, and when you heard about the new love blossoming between Torvi and Ubbe, you couldn't imagine the family holidays at the Ragnarsson household.
"If you say so," you hum, holding your glass to your lips and frown when you notice Bjorn's smirking at you with mischief in his eyes. "What?" You ask him. Gunnhild grins too. "I heard something the other day," Bjorn muses. "And?" You ask. "A conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk," Bjorn adds. "You know what?" You groan at his teasing. "I don't care. Don't tell me!" "Okay," he continues grinning. All of you know you won't keep long from questioning the burly man to spill the tea. There must be a good reason why Bjorn wants to tell you something about his two younger brothers. "Oh, come on!" You groan again. Your palm lands on the wooden table with a smack. "Tell me!" "Hvitserk likes you." Gunnhild is the one who has mercy on you. Excitement glints in her eyes as she waits for your reaction. "I mean... we are friends," you tell her, shrugging. You know all of Bjorn's brothers. Ubbe and Hvitserk are your friends, and Sigurd and Ivar don't hate your presence either. "You don't understand," Bjorn shakes his head. "He likes-likes you." You freeze, staring at them. "No," you reply, and your friends laugh. "Yes," Bjorn argues. "I heard them talking about you a few days ago. He is quite smitten with you." "And they are here," Gunnhild adds, keeping her eyes on the entrance of the pub.
You feel your stomach dropping while you watch the newcomers approaching your table. Half of your mind still tries to process Bjorn's words. Can it be true? You always thought about the brothers as Bjorn's younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"Hey, guys!" Hvitserk's cheerful voice breaks the line of your thoughts. Your eyes wander up at the young man who is already watching you. Heat creeps up on your face at his attention on you, and you force your gaze to move onto the couple next to him. And it doesn't get better. Ubbe and Torvi watch you with a strange glint in their eyes. Or maybe you are just imagining it. "I need a drink," you gasp. "Can I get you anything?" "I will go with you," Bjorn says, standing up to follow you to the bar. "Sit down, guys," he adds. "We will be back in a minute."
"You think too hard," Bjorn says, standing next to you while you wait for your orders. "I'm not," you murmur, looking down at the counter. "I'm fine." "What's wrong?" He asks, leaning closer. "I mean, I'm the most handsome brother, but Hvitserk is a good guy too." "How can you tell that?" You ask, frowning. Eyes still on the wooden surface. "He is your little brother." "And I know him," Bjorn reasons. "You always choose the wrong guys," he continues, and you grimace. He is right. "Hvitserk would be good." "He is younger than me." The man scoffs. "So? Look, Hvitserk is like a puppy. And I mean it in a good way. And the younger lads always try to prove themself harder..." "Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "You really proved yourself back then to a lot of women." "Yeah," he nods, not trying to deny his past. "But it was me. Hvitserk is different." A heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you can't help but feel pathetic. You are already deep in a relationship that doesn't even exist. Hvitserk said nothing about his feelings for you. Maybe it isn't even true. Maybe Bjorn heard it wrong, and you stress yourself for nothing.
You are so stupid.
When you get back to the table, Ubbe and Torvi are already sitting at the end of the table on two chairs while Hvitserk stands next to the booth to give you enough space to climb back to your seat. "Thanks," you murmur and trying not to jump when his hand lands on the small of your back as you walk past by him.
You are so deep in your panicked thoughts you don't even notice Hvitserk's eyes on you. And it's really surprising since it seems like the young man can't tear his attention away from you. The skirt highlights the curve of your hips and is short enough to give enough space for his wandering gaze on your bare thighs. His palm tingles with the need to put his hand on you. He is sure you are soft and warm and everything he wants.
Ubbe's snickering shakes him up from his staring. He doesn't even feel bad about it. He feels good and content when he looks at you. Hvitserk doesn't even know when and how his feelings turned about you. You were always the girl who came over to his older brother, and before he knew it, he wanted you to spend time with him too. And wanted much more too.
"And how's the game?" Ubbe asks, glancing up at the TV. None of you care about it. "They run," Gunnhild replies. "A lot." Hvitserk can't help but smile at your laugh. His fingers curl around his beer to keep himself from touching you.
The night goes amazingly. You laugh and drink a lot but can't seem to forget the closeness of Hvitserk next to you. He radiates warmth and happiness. The cologne he uses covers your senses. His thigh brushes against yours from time to time.
"Halfdan?" Bjorn's voice brings you back to reality. When you look at him, he is already watching you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. Y/N could talk about him." "You know him?" Torvi asks, surprised. You shrug. "We dated for a little while." Hvitserk frowns at your words, but you don't notice it. His lips press into a thin line. "How was it?" You shrug again. "We didn't match." You went on a few dates with Halfdan, and while you enjoyed your time together, you found out soon enough that Halfdan was ready for a lot of things but not for a serious relationship. "Maybe you should date his brother," Ubbe suggests, laughing. "He was already married at least three times." "Yeah," you hum. "My dream is to be his fourth wife." "Isn't he old for you a bit?" Hvitserk asks, and your company needs all its strength not to laugh at the blonde man's jealous words. Heat rises up in your veins as you turn your head and look at him. A playful grin pulls on your lips. "Do you have something against older men?" Hvitserk doesn't care about older men or the brothers if they keep their distance from you. "Maybe we should go," Ubbe suddenly says, already standing up from his seat before his brother can say something to embarrass himself. "Ubbe is right," Bjorn nods. "It's late." You and Hvitserk need a few seconds to tear your gazes away from each other. "Hvitserk, maybe you should walk Y/N home," Torvi says, linking her arm over his boyfriend's. "It's dark outside." "Oh, no," you start. "You don't have to." "I do," he replies. "A walk would be nice." "I bet," Bjorn murmurs with a smirk. "I will call you tomorrow," he adds louder, watching you until you nod.
After saying goodbye to the others, you stay alone with Hvitserk. He walks by your side in silence for a few seconds. "So that's why you didn't come over for the few last weeks?" He asks after a while, keeping his gaze on the ground the whole time. His hands are in his coat pockets. "What do you mean?" You ask back. "Halfdan," he explains. "Oh," you hm. "No. I had a lot of things to do, and now that Bjorn moved out, I didn't really have the reason to go over." "Ivar misses you," he says, and you laugh. "I'm sure." "No, seriously," he clears his throat. "You can still hang out with us, right?" "I mean... yeah, I guess." You can feel your pulse in your throat as you wait for where this conversation will lead. "Or you could hang out just with me," he adds. "Ivar is boring anyway." You laugh again just to earn yourself more time to think about your next words. "I'm sure you have better things to do than spending your time with me," you tell him at the end. Your voice is quiet and unsure. You don't know what you should do. "Not really," he says. You can see his arm moving from the corner of your eyes. "I like being with you." Your heart jumps up to your throat next to your pulse when you feel his warm hand on you. His fingers are intertwined with yours. "Hvitserk," breathing out his name, you stop in front of the door of your flat. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip as you look down at your hands. "You are really beautiful tonight." You laugh. That damn Ragnarsson charm. "Hvitserk..." He steps closer. His free hand lands under your jaw to push your head up until your eyes meet. His thumb pulls out your lip from between your teeth. "What are you doing?" You ask him. You have to force the words out because of your barely working lungs. "I like you, Y/N," he says. No embarrassment or uncertainty shows on his face. "Hvitserk..." You sigh, trying to say something, but your brain doesn't really want to work either. He smirks. "I like it when you say my name." "You can't... It's not... You are..." He patiently waits for you to finish at least one sentence. The young man really likes the way you fluster in his presence. His thumb still caresses the soft line of your bottom lip, and his other hand slips to your waist to pull you closer. Your front is pressed against his. He can't help but glance down at your cleavage. "Are your roommate home?" "My eyes are up, Hvitserk," you tell him, smirking. "I know," he grins. "They are pretty too." "Be serious," you tell him even though you can't swipe the smile off your face. "I am," he replies, looking up into your eyes. "I like you, Y/N, ever since you came over four years ago, crying because your ex broke your heart." "Really? You needed my broken heart to notice me?" You tease. "Of course not," he says. "You were always pretty in my eyes. But that was the moment I realized I would be much better for you." "Hvitserk..." "What? Don't you like me? Or because of Bjorn? I don't think he would have anything against us... I mean, did you see his love life?" "No," you reply, shaking your head. "He wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "Then what?" He asks, pressing you closer to himself. "My age? It's just a few years, Y/N. It's nothing." "Hvitserk, I know you," you reason. "You are almost as bad as Halfdan. And don't tell me it's not true. I saw the different girls you brought home almost every week." "But they weren't you," he says. "They weren't important. But you are." "Hvitserk, I really want someone for the long run..." you tell him honestly. "I want a good relationship that can grow into more in the future. I don't play games anymore." "And I can be that guy," he says. "Let me prove it, Y/N." His words fan over your lips. "Let me in." When you say nothing, he leans even closer and kisses you for the first time. His lips are soft and taste like cheap beer.
And something snaps inside of you.
Your arms curl around his neck as you let him deepen the kiss. The gentle nibbles become bites on your bottom lip until he coaxes your mouth open for free access to your tongue. His kiss is searing and takes your breath away at once. Your lungs burn when he breaks away.
His words vibrate on your swollen lips when he speaks. His forehead is against yours. "Open the door, Y/N." "Hm?" You hum, still dizzy. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand slips to your ass to grab a handful of your flesh. A grunt echoes in his chest at the feeling. "The door, Y/N. Open it." "Oh," you gasp. "Right."
He watches you fiddling with your keys with amusement. You are flustered and breathless. The taste of your lips still tingles on his own. His heated gaze rakes over your body from behind. The skirt hugs your bottom perfectly. His hand moves on its own accord to touch you again, but he decides against it at the last moment. No, he won't act like a dog in heat.
At least not in front of your neighbors.
Hvitserk barely slides inside your house before pushing the door close with his leg. His hands find your waist again, and when you turn to face him, he kisses you again. Your back falls against the wall, and your fingers curl into his blonde hair at the nape of his neck. His presence covers your every sense. Your nostrils are filled with his smell, your fingertips are warm on his skin, and your lips burn with his taste.
"Go to the couch," he hums against your lips before kissing you again. His tongue ghosts over the line of your bottom lip.
You need every strength in your body to do as he says.
"Sit down." "You are really commanding," you state, still following his words. "I want to taste you before you change your mind," he says. In contrast to his words, his smile is soft and almost innocent. "You... what?" You gasp, shocked. His smile turns into something much more wicked as he falls to his knees before you. Even the view is enough to make your thighs shake and your inside tremble. "Open those legs for me, Y/N," he grins. His long fingers fiddle with the straps of your high heels, moving up to your calves, and when he reaches the curve of your knees, he rises both of your legs after another to kiss them. "Hvitserk!" You gasp, slapping down on the couch under you as you grab the edge when he pulls your legs apart. "You don't have to." "Oh, Y/N," he hums. "But I want to so much." "Oh!"
The breath you keep inside your lungs burns you. The skirt runs up on your thighs as your legs open under Hvitserk's heavy gaze. His fingers dig into your thighs. He plays and gropes the flesh all the way to your bottom. Another gasp escapes your lips when the man grabs you again to tug you to the edge of your seat. The skirt you wear hides nothing anymore. "It's pretty," he grins, playing with the lace of your panties. "Interesting, I always imagined you as a black lingerie woman." "I have black ones, too," you breathe out quietly. He smirks. "Maybe next time." His thumb glides over your pussy through the thin fabric. He can feel your folds and the wetness that coats your most sensitive parts. Your thighs jerk when his touch reaches your clit. He teases the hard bud until your panties are soaked. "You are so wet already," he says with satisfaction dripping from his words. It really makes him happy. It means to him that he is not the only one who feels attraction. You are not here in front of him out of pity or worry that you would hurt his feelings and damage your friendship with his oldest brother. You really feel something. Something that can grow into more if he doesn't fucks it up. "Let me..." he hums, and without waiting for your answer, he pulls down your panties with a swift motion. Soon, the fabric lies on the ground, forgotten. The cold air on your pussy makes your whole body shiver with anticipation. "You have no idea how many times I imagined you just like this," he says, staring at your center intently. "Open and wet for me." His finger glides over your folds, smearing your wetness in the process. "Hvitserk," you breathe out his name, urging him to stop his teasing already. Your whole body is tense with waiting and burning desire. "I'm here," he smirks, leaning closer. His words fan over your aching pussy. Your thighs want to close on their own accord, but the blonde man's shoulders stop them. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh. He can't get enough of the softness of your skin. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, but he forces himself to focus on something else. And it's not a difficult thing to do when you are in front of him with spread legs and soaked cunt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips when he closes the space between you. His tongue flattens on your pussy, taking a teasing lick of your wetness. Your juices spread across his tastebuds. His eye fall shut at the feeling.
Hvitserk devours you to his heart's content while you squirm and whine under him. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before sinking his finger into your pussy and sucking at you at the same time. Your back arches, and your mouth falls open into an airy moan. You can feel the throbbing of your heart between your legs. It jumps and speeds up at every swirl and push Hvitserk does with his tongue and fingers. He spreads his two fingers inside you, stretching your walls and finding every sweet spot that makes you cry for more. To cry for him. "Hivtserk," you moan. "I-I-" "Cum," he groans into your pussy. His eyes bore into yours. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let me drink from you." Your head falls back at the whirlwind that runs through your body. Your muscles are taut, almost painfully so. You can't even breathe as the climax washes over you with full force. Your fingers find their way into his curls. You tug on the blonde strands, and Hvitserk moans. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. He wants you to find pleasure in him, not just in the bed but everywhere else too. After years of silently watching you and craving your body with equal need with your laugh and pretty smile, he is ready for everything. He is ready to accept everything you want to give him.
When you win back your consciousness, Hvitserk is still between your legs, resting his head on your thigh with a cheeky grin on his lips. His lips glint with your wetness. "Hey." Heat creeps up on your face. "Hi." "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow," he suddenly says, standing up from his kneeling position. A quick kiss on your lips reminds you of what happened a few minutes ago. "What?" You gasp. "Hvitserk... what?" You watch his receding form as he makes his way to the entrance door of your home. "I thought..." You point at your room with your thumb. The confusion is clear on your face. When he looks back from the door, he can't help but stop for a second. You are so goddamn beautiful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes still shine with the remains of your climax, and your lips are swollen and red from his kisses. He really needs his every self-control not to turn back and take you to your room for more. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Date first. Tomorrow. At seven." "But..." "It was just a taste, Y/N, because I couldn't help myself." And with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone with shaking legs and a dizzy mind.
Oh, gods!
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hammyballeceter · 6 months
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Ivar The Boneless
Different
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summary - You had been courting Hvitserk, when you’d caught him doing the unthinkable. That’s when Ivar stepped in.
You and Hvitserk had been together for a while, you were in a partner ship but there wasn’t an official label. You were his, and he was yours as far as you were concerned. People knew that, you weren’t quick to be married and you didn’t mind that.
You had definitely fallen for the man you’d known since you were a child having been friends with the young Prince since you were toddlers. He was kinder and more gentle then his peers, so how could you not? You knew of his reputation for bedding numerous amounts of women. He was happy if his belly was full and if there was a lady keeping his bed warm, for years that’s how it went. It hurt you to keep the way you felt under wraps. Until one day you had confessed to him, and lucky for you he had felt the same way.
Recently things hadn’t been going so well, you’d noticed his wondering eye but never thought much of it, well tried not to anyways. He loved you, you loved him. Small arguments started to break out every so often but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t sorted with a kiss. You had thought you were secure and happy. Trying to ignore the little cracks that were beginning to form between you and him.
You’d found yourself becoming friendly with his brother Ivar, finding that when you’d search for Hvitserk, he was out doing something. Ivar would usually be the one to tell you he was out, at first you were weary of the man. He was never particularly kind to you as a child, you’d originally tried to befriend the boy as he was your age, but it was Hvitserk who ultimately won your friendship and then love. But in Hvitserks recent absences you found yourself chatting to Ivar, he was kinder when he was by himself.
——————
“He’s not here y/n, he went out early again” you heard Ivar say as you pulled the door closed behind you, glad to be out the cold but annoyed at the fact it was now the 6th time Hvitserk hadn’t bothered to let you know he was out. You tried to not think anything of it, although an uneasy feeling nibbled away at your stomach. Not wanting to push the man, you always assumed he was with his other brothers. You still respected Hvitserk and his brothers, so if he told you he was out with his brothers then he was out with his brothers, you never pushed.
“Well, I’m bored so can I just stay with you for abit? It’s cold and I don’t want to walk through that snow again just yet.” Truthfully you wanted the company, you’d felt so lonely recently and Ivars company was not so bad. You shrugged your furs from your shoulders, placing them over a spare seat to dry from the snow.
“I’d like that, I’ve been alone all day. Your company seems to be the only one that doesn’t annoy me” his answer caused you to shoot a small smile at him. Taking a seat next to him on the floor, you ran your hand through the furs placed for him and now you to sit on, after shifting abit to get comfortable you finally let out a sigh that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in.
“I’m unsure as to why your allowing him to get away with this” Ivar questioned, allowing his eyes to wander over your form. He’d only ever been mean to try and fight the feelings he has for you, the day you tried to become his friend he remembers like it was yesterday, and he curses himself for ever being so awful to you. You could of been the one thing in his life he could hold onto. But he was afraid, afraid incase you’d reject him or make fun of him like so many others seemed to do. But you never did, and you never would.
Hvitserk was usually his favourite out of his brothers, but the way his older sibling had been making you feel recently bothered him. It wasn’t fair on someone who was so pure and genuine. Although he wanted the unwavering love you had for Hvitserk to be for him. He also, for once in his life, was putting your feelings before his own. He wanted to hold you, make that drained unsure look on your face disappear. He could tell that everything that was going on at the moment was bothering you more then you let on, but you were to polite to do anything about it, to worried to make someone upset. But you also didn’t want that nagging feeling to be true, to address it would mean you were either extremely wrong and possibly hurt Hvitserk or it was true and your heart would surely shatter.
“Ivar, I’m worried. I’m scared. Recently he’s had wondering eyes, for years he hadn’t even looked in the direction of another woman unless it was to speak to them. We’d always tell each other where we are going but mostly we wouldn’t have to because we’d already be together. We haven’t shared a bed in a while, and when he comes back from where ever he’s been going he’s been off with me, like he’s pretending. What am I doing wrong Ivar? I’ve known him since I was a child.” You felt awful for revealing everything to Ivar knowing the young man already had enough going on. Tears streamed your face, it was the first time you’d allowed yourself to cry. It was a foolish thing to do especially in front of a man such as Ivar. You didn’t want to seem weak.
Instead of speaking Ivar placed a gentle arm over your shoulder, cradling you as you cried. His heart-ached for you. But his anger, oh how his anger was boiling over toward his brother.
You both heard the door open, the familiar voices of Ubbe and Bjørn filled the room but Hvitserks was absent. This only caused more worry for you. They stepped into the room you and Ivar were sat in, noticing your obvious distress.
“Ubbe, Bjørn. Was Hvitserk with you today. Or any day recently for that matter?” Your heart speed up, if there answer was anything other then yes, you were ready to start your own war.
“Sorry y/n, me and Bjørn have been fishing recently. But Hvitserk hasn’t been joining us.” Ubbe had a sympathetic tone to his voice, but no amount of sympathy would stop the blood that was now pumping through your veins as you stood. Any upset you had felt was now turned to adrenaline and anger. It was the only thing that would give you the courage to walk over to Hvitserks home and confront him. You hadn’t intended to leave so abruptly hoping the brothers would understand your predicament.
Ivar watched the door slam behind you, his instant reaction was to pull himself up and grab his crutch and strapping his leg braces up as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t allow you to face this on your own if things went south. Despite the cold he set out after you.
You reached Hvitserks door, finally realising where you were. You hesitated, noticing the glow of candles. He was in. Your heart dropped, unsure of what you were going to walk in on. The gnawing feeling in your stomach now a full raging beast. That’s when you heard the soft dragging of feet behind you, you knew exactly who it was. Ivar.
“I’m here for you. y/n. You don’t have to face this alone.” You’d never been more glad to see his face, he brought a tiny bit of comfort. Which you hadn’t of expected. You nodded at him. Thankful for his presence.
With a shaky hesitant hand you pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. Your manners were put on hold for now. It was dark the flickering candles being the only source of light. But he was home, and your fears became reality. You saw her and him, on the bed you used to sleep in with him, where you and Hvitserk spend many a night making love or cuddling. And there he was now but with another woman. They hadn’t noticed you at first but you saw her naked back and heard his grunts.
Your gentle side had been tossed out the room as you pushed the rest of the front door so hard it caused it to crash into the wall beside it, whilst also nearly taking the large piece of wood off of its hinges. This caused the woman to jump from riding your partner, Hvitserk shooting up from his previous position to see the you. Your head whirled with 100 million things to scream at him, yet you didn’t say anything, you stood in the door way, chest heaving. Making sure to make eye contact with Hvitserk so he could see the fury that bubbled behind them.
With that you stormed off. You needed to be alone.
Ivar allowed you to go, understanding that you were angry and needed time alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t give his brother what for. Ivar was enraged. And Hvitserk would soon know all about it.
“YOU, OUT!” Ivar snarled at the naked woman, as she hurriedly gathered her clothes. “if y/ns ever in the same vicinity as you. You better not show your face. Infact do yourself a favor and never come back” he spat.
Turning his attention to his brother, his eyes narrowed at him. Hvitserk didn’t know where to look, he wanted to find you. But no amount of sorry would ever heal the heart he’d just broken. Instead he had to deal with Ivar.
“You disgust me brother. I’ve never known you to do such vile things” Ivar dragged himself further into the house.
“You are no man, you have a woman’s love and this is how you treat it. especially the love of a woman such as y/n” his voice thick with venom towards his brother. “I hope the gods cruse you and that sleaze” Ivar took his arm and swiped everything off of the table allowing it to break, crash and spill. “You are lucky she will not allow me to hurt you, her kindness still prevails even when she should nail your balls to your eyes!”
three months later———
The heartbreak was soul shattering, it took you nearly a month and half to even consider going out side. Yet Ivar visited you most days, even if you wanted your own space Ivar would sit quietly. Allowing you to know his presence was there if needed. Which you were glad for, he held you when you cried, listened when you needed to talk, and chatted when you needed a distraction. You two became close, becoming the best friends you were meant to be.
Hvitserk had tried multiple times to come see you but Ivar wouldn’t allow it. You needed to heal and he would help you do that. Hvitserk left many a gift at your door, it confused Ivar as to why it was now he was spoiling you, trying to give you the attention that you needed for the last part of your and his relationship now. He was two late. You wouldn’t ever go back to a cheat, Ivar helped you get to that frame of mind, as before you would of crumbled craving to feel the man you loved.
Ivar helped remind you that you were beautiful, although to Ivar you were more then beautiful, you were truly breathtaking. Learning some self love was important right now.
You and Ivar had decided to take a walk, nothing major. There was a feast going on in the great hall tonight so Ivar assured you that there wouldn’t be anyone around. So you wrapped yourselves up in furs and your cloaks and headed out.
It was quiet at first, you weren’t going far due to Ivar using his crutches but it was nice to be outside regardless. It was night and the stars had come out in full force, like the gods wanted to paint the sky especially for you and Ivar.
“Oh how wonderful, Ivar look at the sky! The gods has truly blessed us tonight!” You giggled, clasping your hands together softly. It was a joyous sound and one Ivar had missed dearly. You both took a seat on one of the tables that stood in the middle of Kattegat, and Ivar was finally able to look at the sky. He never cared much for such things but today was different if you wanted him to look at the stars then that is what he’d do, and you were correct, the sky was littered with stars and it was truly breathtaking.
“I need closure” you blurted out randomly, Ivar brought down his head to look at you.
“I need closure so I can move on. I want to know why. It’s been months since I’ve seen his face. And I thank you for helping me take the time to heal. But I want to start moving on. I want to be able to love someone else who’ll love me just as much.” Your looked at Ivar to gage a reaction, he smiled softly at you. His gaze relaxing when he met your eyes.
You and Ivar had decided that he would go to the great hall and get his brother. Rather then you having to walk into a place that would cause you a great distress, at least if you were outside and couldn’t handle it you could just walk away. You sat whislt Ivar went to find Hvitserk.
After about 15 minutes you saw the two men walking toward you, Hvitserk caught your eyes first. You’d expect to want to run away but you didn’t, you were quite happy just sitting there looking at the stars in the quiet. Although a little nervous, seeing Ivar behind him calmed your nerves tenfold.
Hvitserk remained stood whilst Ivar pulled himself up to be sat beside you, taking his fur off and wrapping around your shoulders although you already have your own on, you appreciated the kind gesture. Jealousy was written allover Hvitserks face, as he scowled at his brother.
“Well say something brother” Ivar bit, he rolled his eyes at the other man who remained silent, yet to even mutter a word.
“Ivar, it’s okay. I’ll speak.” You gently placed your hand on Ivars wrist giving it a squeeze. Hvisterk wanted nothing more then for his little brother to go away, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He hadn’t even been able to see you for three months. His brother forbid it. He’d been nothing but spiteful towards him, which he deserved.
Hvitserk looked at you, hopeful to still see some form of loving gaze toward him but there was none. And his heart sunk.
“Hvitserk, it’s been three long months since you betrayed me and betrayed our love. You shattered my heart into a million pieces. I do not understand if you were so unhappy with being my partner then why not just end things. I now have new worries & insecurities due to your actions, I doubt that I will ever be good enough for anyone anymore. If it hadn’t of been for your brother I don’t know where I’d be now. Probably still fawning after you making a fool out of myself. But, I shall not. You will forever hold a piece of my heart, that I will say. I loved you Hvitserk and a part of me always will. I’m unsure as to if you ever loved me as I could not possibly do the things that you have done to me. But all I ask is why?” Your voice remained a level tone. No hate was spat at the man. You couldn’t bring yourself to be so unkind.
Ivar was beyond proud of you, although he was full of anger toward his brother you remained calm, having seen how you screamed into your furs, how you threw things and how you cried behind the closed door of your hut when it first happened, you had come so far. He could only wish to ever deal with things the way you had just done.
Hvitserk sucked in a breath, almost to stop his voice from wobbling. He had lost you, through his own foolish, greedy actions.
“Y/n my lov-“ he started but you cut him off, “you’ve no right to call me that anymore.” His eyes watered, but he held his composure the best he could infront of you and his brother.
“Y/n, I love you. My gods i love you. But I had been foolish. I had been tempted by a woman and slipped into my old ways, she persisted and I gave in. I have no excuse for doing what I did, and I shan’t makeup one. You deserve better then that. These past three months have been torment. I just wanted to hold you feel your warm flesh against mine again. I had known you were too good for me. I fear you hate me now. I can’t live without you at least speaking to me.” He spoke carefully, his voice timid as if he was getting told off. Ivar scoffed and you placed your hand once again on his arm to stop him.
“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate anyone. As I had said a piece of me will always hold onto you, and it will pain me. But I shall learn to live with it. I will speak to you if the situation permits it but I shan’t make an effort. I cannot hide away anymore. I am friends with Ivar and that won’t stop. Whether you like it or not. I hope you live a happy life. But please promise me, don’t hurt another woman like this. Make sure you love her and you love her hard. Never make her feel the way you have made me feel. Goodbye Hvitserk.” With that you hopped off of the table, and bowed your head. He was to you now a prince of Kattegat and you would respect him as such. But he wasn’t your Hvisterk anymore and you had started to finally come to terms with it.
Ivar followed you back to your hut, you were still so unbelievably grateful for him. So once you got back although late, you set about making the man a warm pie as to thank him for tonight. Ivar had perched himself on your bed as your hut was small and you could see the kitchen from where he was easily enough. He watched you carefully as you made the food and chatted away to him, his heart fluttered at you. He had fallen so unbelievably in love with you, but knew to keep it to him self whislt you went through what your going through, he knew deep down that you were meant to be his. He’d never felt this way about anyone. Your the only person that he would protect wholeheartedly, even against his own brother.
The small space was filled with the warm sent of your baked good, it was warm and cozy due to the fire burning away in the centre. Ivar could get used to this. He’d never known the true feeling of home, always feeling out of sorts around his brothers. But here, he was comfortable. He was warm and he could look at you all he wanted. He’d never understand why Hvitserk did what he did, and in someways he was glad.
He could finally get you to himself.
You grabbed two spoons once the pie had cooled off abit, bringing it to where Ivar sat wrapped in your bed furs. Intending it to be a nice late night treat and a thanks to Ivar.
“It smells delicious” Ivar smiled at you taking the warm pie into his hands so you could slip in next to him. “Why don’t we just use the same spoon, saves on dishes” he laughed, “Ivar I don’t mind washing it it’s just a spoon-“
“No if we share we will do it properly” he said as he scooped up some sweet filling and pastry, holding it up for you to take the first bite. A feeling was brewing as you looked at Ivar, but it was a different feeling, one you hadn’t experienced before. A warm feeling, no rampid butterfly’s. A safe, warm, glowing feeling toward Ivar. You’d soon find out. That it was love starting to form for the man, true love.
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gwen-novella · 1 year
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Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet
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Pairing: Ivar x female reader
Word count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n
Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.
Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.
Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 
The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 
The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 
Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.
When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.
Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 
You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 
"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 
"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."
Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 
Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 
He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.
Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 
"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 
If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 
If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.
The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 
"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 
You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 
Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 
Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.
In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.
Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.
You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 
"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 
Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding Kink
Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 
Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."
Trust Kink (?)
Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 
As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 
As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hurting you.
Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.
Sharing.
Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."
Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.
His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 
"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 
Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 
It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 
That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.
As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.
You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 
"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 
When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."
"I do not."
Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 
As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.
As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 
"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"
Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."
To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
To quote TPAW:
"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 
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Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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multific · 1 year
Text
Grown to Love You
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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
Warnings: mention of smut, murder, kidnapping and obsessive behaviour
Summary: He finds you during a raid. Ivar the Boneless has to have you.
You were all alone and scared when his men found you and brought you to him. One asked if he could have you, but Ivar wanted you for himself.
He loved the fire and hatred in your eyes.
In the beginning, he kept you in his home, he could tell your masked your fear with anger as you tried many times to escape, but you always failed.
Then one day, something happened.
You were just sitting there on the floor. Not cursing at him, not throwing things. Was this your new technique to escape? A new plan perhaps? Pretending that you gave up?
"What are you looking at?" you asked as he kept staring.
"That is not how you talk to your King." but you said nothing, no snarky comeback, you didn't spit at him or kick him. You just sat there, chains around your hands as you looked at the fireplace. He moved from his bed, crawling over to you, much like how he had done before.
You slowly turned and looked at him.
"What is your new plan?"
"I have no plans. Even if I get out of here, I have no home to go back to, you burned my house." he watched your eyes, took him a moment to realize, your fire was gone. No fear, no hatred, no anger.
He won.
You gave up.
"You are mine. You have been since the moment I saw you." his hand moved to lower your dress from your shoulder and kissed your skin.
"Why didn't you touch me before then? If I'm yours?"
"I will never force myself on a woman,"
"You can't even walk."
"Which is why you will have to please me."
"And if I refuse?" a hint, a slight hint of the fire came back for a second before you let out a sigh because as you looked at him, you realized he didn't mean it, the smile on his face and the eyes told you.
"My grandmother warned me about men with blue eyes. She said she had a dream that one day, a man like that would take me and I will be lost. She said it was as if I walked into the darkness. She couldn’t see me after that." you tugged on your chains. "You haven't been as bad to me as I thought you will be. I thought you would... force me, beat me and kill me. But you fed me and kept me warm. Sure, you didn't give me a bed-"
"I told you to sleep next to me."
"How can you be sure I wouldn't kill you?"
"I have sharp senses. I am a warrior." his eyes continued to just watch your every move. "Agree to become my wife and you will have a great life." 
"Wife?"
He nodded. "You will become Queen, you will become fully mine. Not my pet, but my woman. You have nothing to go back to, no one to return to."
"You killed everyone... so I'd stay with you?" he nodded. His eyes shone with something you didn't know, obsession. 
"Your beauty is captivating, I was sure you are a witch. So beautiful and gentle. I saw it in your eyes. And now, you finally gave into me. I will take you as wife, marry me and you will have a life filled with love and care." 
Your grandma was right, looking into his eyes, you walked right into the darkness, right into his arms.
He was obsessed and you were lost.
---
Couple months had passed since you were wed to Ivar.
Living the life of a Viking, you tried your best to understand their traditions and follow their life style.
But it was challenging.
So much so, that when a man commented on it, you saw a side of Ivar you have never seen before.
"What did you say?" Both you and Hvitserk looked at Ivar and then at the man. Ivar was way too calm.
"I said, your Queen is a whore! She is not even a true Viking!" the man was drunk, and probably didn't even realize what he was saying.
One second the man was laughing, clearly not reading the room as everyone sat, frozen. The next moment the man was on the floor with an axe piercing his skull.
"Does anyone else have any comments to my wife?" no one moved, no one took a breath. Ivar started laughing. 
You continued to eat. 
Hvitserk shook his head before grabbing more wine.
"You defended my honour." you turned to Ivar as he sat to take of his armour. 
"I have done that before, you just weren't present."
"Thank you."
"We have been married for months, you know I have deep feelings for you, of course I would defend you."
"I have never seen you so unhinged, so angry yet so calm, everyone was scared of you, I could feel their fear. Everyone was scared, while I was extremely aroused." this made Ivar look at you immediately. Now, topless, only wearing his trousers, he watched you, you shocked him. "You are incredible Ivar. You are so strong, people used to call you a cripple, now they fear your name and I truly realized that tonight. I am married to a true King, and My King, I wish for you to breed me tonight." lust filled your eyes.
Ivar swallowed, he watched you just standing there before you slowly brought your hands up to your shoulders, you moved your dress down as you turned, he didn't see your front, he saw your naked back. You moved onto the bed, watching him as you knelt on the furs.
"Please." your plea was barely audible, but it made him move.
Like a starved beast, he crawled over to you, meeting him halfway on the bed, your lips found his as his hands began to grab at your flesh.
Oh, how he loved this side of you.
You might play an innocent maiden when people were around, but truth was, when the moon was on the highest point of the sky, in the middle of the evening, Ivar could see your true side. You were possibly a siren, on top of him, moving up and down his shaft switching between slow and fast, your pace was always perfect. 
His hands grabbed your flesh, everywhere he could reach, thighs, hips, or breasts. 
Anything he could reach.
But you loved it the most when he sat up, meeting your lips as you still moved on top of him, his hands on your back as his lips were on yours, teeth pulling your bottom lip before moving to your neck and breasts. 
Every evening, his room smelled of sex and fire. 
You laying beside him, with your head on his chest, your finger making patterns on his skin as his arm was around your shoulder or hips. pulling you closer if that is possible.
Yes, he was obsessed with you, and yes you lusted for this man. He might have taken you from your home, trapped you and forced love out of you, but you were still here, swore to love him until your last breath.
"Do you think it worked?" he asked and you had a feeling what he meant.
"I believe, if your God is kind to us, then yes. We might have a child soon."
"Odin is great, I'm not sure if I can have children."
"Why wouldn't you? Your legs never stopped you from spilling your seed in me before. You worry for nothing Ivar, but even if tonight wasn't enough. I will never give up the hope of gifting you a child."
He smiled as you looked up at him, placing a kiss on his chin.
"I can see you with a daughter. She would make you chase her around the room, you would kill anyone for her, she would be perfect."
"Your imagination is quite something, My Love."
"I can also see you with a son. Teaching him your strategies, how to fight and survive, how to be a warrior. Only one child?" you asked.
"As many as you would give me." he replied.
"A lot of children. I would like that, it would mean when you leave for raids, I wouldn't be lonely." He looked into your eyes, seeing his blues as you smiled. You always spoke of such futures, he felt he wasn't good enough to be in them.
Having a lot of children with you was something he didn't even dare to dream about, and yet here you were. Your eyes shining with love and affection as you spoke of possible children with him.
"I love you." he whispered as you felt his palm on your back, pulling you in for a kiss. 
"I love you too, My King." You kissed him on the lips, running your hand through his hair as you soon fell asleep with him.
You woke not long after, you were incredibly thirsty so as quietly as you could, you made your way to get some water. You put on a short gown, which you often slept in.
On your way back to the bed you saw possibly the most amazing view. Nothing could compare. 
A naked Ivar, surrounded by furs as the fire made his skin glow.
His features relaxed as he slept on his back, one arm next to his head, the other laid out, waiting for your return.
Your eyes roamed his chest, running over his tattoos and muscles before you moved your eyes further down, although his cock, which always gave you great pleasure, was hidden under the furs, and your eyes longed on the visible bump before moving back up, the fur was dangerously low, making you thirsty for something other than water.
Ivar was a work of art. You were convinced he didn't even realize how tempting he was.
He moved ever so slightly in his sleep. AS if his subconscious was looked for you, his arm twitched, begging for you to return.
And you did. You moved back on the bed, right where you left from.
Oh, how you wished his seed took, gifting him a child would make you the happiest. You know you had to dissolve every doubt in his mind, but you were ready for the challenge. 
You went back to sleep as his arm moved back to your waist. Slightly pulling you close as he let out a long sigh.
You drifted back to sleep.
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lavender-romancer · 9 months
Text
Winter
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict
You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness
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”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.
You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.
"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.
"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.
"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.
"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."
"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.
"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.
"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.
"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.
Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.
When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.
"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.
"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.
"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.
"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.
"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.
"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.
"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.
For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.
"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.
"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.
"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.
Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.
Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.
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mickeyswhore · 6 months
Text
Complicated Arrangement
A/N: Someone stop me from writing for Thomas Shelby, lol.
Summary: You are Thomas Shelby's sugar baby, you fell in love with him and now you're in trouble.
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warnings: daddy kink, smut, use of Y/N (but only twice), modern!Thomas Shelby.
Tag: @mrkdvidal1989.
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You had everything you ever wanted, money, gifts, a great apartment, your grades were great, there was one problem, your heart. Thomas was pretty specific with you when he asked you to be his sugar baby, you could hear his voice saying it to you, every time you saw him sleeping, and every time he did something that made your heart swell.
“Don’t fall in love with me.”
You agreed, because you needed the money and you never thought that you could fall in love with Thomas Shelby, he was cold, distant, but none of that stopped you from loving him. Thomas insisted on having separate apartments, you thought it was a good thing, since you wanted your privacy. And now, you were hiding from him, and you weren’t supposed to do that, even if the both of you didn't meet in person, he insisted that you never kept anything from him, but how could you talk to him when you disobeyed his rule? It wasn’t like the times when you were bratty, just to have his attention, you would lose Tommy forever if you talked to him about that, so you were ghosting for a week.
Thomas was deeply concerned with your lack of news and updates, so he decided to stop by at your apartment, so he could see you, he was missing you like crazy, your voice, your soft skin, your whimpers and moans, everything about you intoxicating for him. He even considered the possibility of you finding someone else, but he was adamant with you, he did not share, especially you.
You were now at your apartment, studying for the finals, you were really stressed out, not because of the finals, but because of Thomas, you needed him, but you were scared that you were going to tell him everything, about your feelings. You heard a knock on the door, it was probably the delivery man, bringing your pizza. You opened the door, and you gasped, there was Thomas Shelby, looking as handsome as always, and with a hungry look on his face.
“You didn't called me, you didn't text me, what’s going on, Y/N?” You knew he wasn’t mad, just concerned, because he never called you by your name, only nicknames.
“It’s nothing, I’m really sorry, I should’ve called you, I’m just studying for the finals.” Thomas knew that was a lie, because he could read you like anyone else, and he knew that you were hiding something.
“That’s not it, there’s something else, tell me.” He smiled, and you signed, you couldn’t tell him.
“It’s nothing, I have to study.” You tried to shut the door, but he stopped you.
“Are you trying to get rid of me, baby?” He was using that voice, the voice that brought the submissive in you.
“No, Daddy. But I really need to study.” You said, and Thomas smirked.
“Good, because you’ve been a very bad girl, ignoring Daddy, you need to be punished, kitten.” He entered your apartment and sat on the couch, smirking the whole time.
“Go to the bedroom, and I want to see you laying in bed, naked, waiting for Daddy.” You nodded and went to the bedroom, despite being scared of telling him how you really feel, you needed him, more than anything.
You quickly took off your clothes and laid on the bed, waiting for Ivar, you were getting anxious, every minute felt like hours. Thomas opened the door, and sat on the bed, he was devouring you with his eyes, you could feel yourself aroused, just by his predatory gaze.
“What should I do with you? There’s so many possibilities, I could bring you to the edge over and over again, or I could make you cum until you pass out, or I could just tease you enough and then leave, so many things I can do to you, little one.” The whole time Tommy was caressing your body his hand, your thighs, your stomach, your arms.
“Please, don’t tease me, Daddy.” You whimpered, and Thomas stopped, he got close to your ear.
“But you need to be punished, kitten.” He whispered, and you bite your lip, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, I need you, Daddy.” He growled, you knew that he couldn’t resist you.
“Alright, kitten.” He sat next to you, and started to run his fingers in your thighs, slowly, you opened your legs to give him more access, making him chuckle.
“Such a good girl.” He praised, and licked the shell of your ear, making you whimper.
“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me all the time, kitten.” You nodded and Thomas slapped your clit, lightly. “I need words, little one.” He kissed your neck and down to your collarbone.
“Yes, Daddy.” He seemed pleased with your response, and started to make small and slow circles on your clit, you gasped at the contact.
“Does that feel good, kitten?” His eyes were on you all the time, you couldn’t look away.
“Yes, it feels so good, Daddy.” Your breath was more erratic, Thomas loved seeing you like this.
“Do you want me to fuck this pretty little pussy of yours?” His movements on your clit were faster, bringing you closer to your orgasm.
“Yes, please fuck me with your fingers, Daddy.” He inserted two fingers inside you, his movements were fast, the only sounds in the room were your moans and the pornografic sounds that Thomas was drawing out of you.
“You’re so good to me, you’re gonna cum on my fingers?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath and his voice were all it took to bring you to the edge.
You came on his fingers, you grabbed his arm and squeezed.
“Do you want my cock, buried deep inside your pussy? Do you want that, kitten?” He took off his shirt, and he was unbuttoning his pants.
“Yes, fuck me, Daddy. Please.” You said, biting your lip, he growled.
“I’m gonna ruin you, baby.” He put his cock on your entrance, teasing you.
“Don’t tease, please.” You begged, and Thomas slammed his cock inside you, not giving you time to adjust to his size, his pace was brutal, animalistic, and you loved that.
“D-daddy.” You moaned, so lost in pleasure. You wrapped your legs around his waist, Thomas started to hit your g-spot repeatedly, you were getting close again.
“I’m so close, Daddy.” You whispered.
“Cum all over my cock, kitten.” He encouraged you, after a few more thrusts, you came again, and Thomas came right after you.
He cuddled with you, and he kept saying that you were amazing, whispering sweet nothings on your ear.
“Now you’re gonna tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked, and tensed.
“I can’t, Tommy.” You tried to leave, but he didn't let you.
“Tell me, you can tell me anything, little one.” He encouraged you.
“Thomas, I love you.” You closed your eyes, you didn't want to see the disapproving look on his handsome face, when he didn't said anything, you turned around and saw him smiling.
“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” You frowned.
“What are you talking about?” He laughed, and kissed your hand.
“Baby, I fell in love with you, for a very long time, I just didn't have the guts to tell you.” You smiled at him. “Wait, is that the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” You nodded.
 “I love you, Y/N.” He kissed you, gently.
“I love you too, Tommy.” The both of you laughed.
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undiscovered-horizon · 8 months
Text
"A hammer and an anvil" - Hvitserk x Reader
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<I just wrote the dialogue, liked it a lot and wanted to make it into something ok? T_T>
SUMMARY: You're the daughter of a foreign jarl who hasn't chosen sides in the war of young Lothbroks. Neither can you. The consequences would be far-reaching and dire. However, your will is not as strong as your father's and should Hvitserk ask, you know the guilt will not stop you from being by his side. The question is: will he?
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1k
People call that arrangement by different names: between the Devil and the deep sea, between a hammer and an anvil or between a rock and a hard place. No matter where the point actually is, Hvitserk is there. And it shows.
Has he made the right choice siding with Ivar? Was the choice ever his to make? What if Ivar, desiring your father's great army, whispered a few sweet words into your beloved's ear?
You're watching him stare at the ceiling in your hut. For the first time since you've met him, Hvitserk's eyes are vacant. Normally shining with mischief and his merry persona, now they're empty. Dead. He starts to feel like somebody else.
Hvitserk's fingers are slowly dragging against your skin, painting patterns with no rhythm or merit. Truthfully, he seems to be oblivious to his little habit.
Examining his profile, you can see your shield in the corner of your eye. The green paint on it is supposed to symbolise vitality and greed but now, considering the consequence of the days to come, it's the colour of grief and fear. Behind the shield is hidden your sword, freshly sharpened. Hvitserk was eager to do it for you and at first, you thought it was just him doing something for you like he always does, but now, watching his chest rise and fall in ragged breaths, you're beginning to think he just wanted to have something to do. Some way to occupy his busy mind.
The inside of your home is warm - the countless furs and burning fire. Despite that, your body feels cold as though the dread residing in the pit of your stomach is already pulling you towards your grave. Whether literal or figurative, you're not quite sure.
"Can you promise me something?" you whisper. The sound of your voice is quiet enough to almost be drowned out by the cracking firewood.
But Hvitserk heard you. He listened. Like he always does.
He tilts his head to look at you. Your noses are maybe an inch apart. His lips are curved into a smile but the sad, blank look in his eyes has stayed; his freight is arrogant enough to make itself at home inside his mind.
"Anything you want, love," Hvitserk whispers back. His breath is warm on your cold cheeks. It smells slightly sour like dry wine.
"Do not ask me to join the battle. Do not ask me to fight your brothers." You swallow your tears. The love you hold for him would not only make you defy your father but carelessly start a chain of horrid events that not even Kattegat's Seer could completely envision. Knowing your own weakness, you have to trust that maybe Hvitserk can save you from yourself. "Because I would." A bitter scoff escapes your throat. "Gods know I would do terrible things if you asked me to."
Hvitserk appears unmoved by your confession. His smile grows unnoticeably wider as his palm rests on the side of your face. A stray tear, slowly rolling down your cheek, is swept away by a gentle brush of his thumb.
"But I won't." His tone is decisive. "I don't have to heart to do so."
Instead of staring at the wooden ceiling, Hvitserk is now watching your face. The same strangely vacant and yet intense look haunts his eyes. Something akin to determination shows in his expression as though the answer to his plight is written on your face in a language he can almost decipher. If he stays up all night, looking at you, maybe by the first light of dawn, he will know exactly what he's supposed to do.
"Tell me you'll come back," you interrupt the silence once again.
Both of you know he can't say it with certainty. Nevertheless, lovers tend to believe they can somehow enchant reality.
"Of course I will," Hvitserk says with conviction. He almost makes you believe there is no other option. "Dying in battle and seeing my father in Valhalla is something I'm dreaming of but if living means I get to see you one more time, I will cling to life like a man gone mad."
Although you know his poetics through and through, they never fail to make your heart flutter. Judging by Hvitserk's stubbornness in saying them, he knows the effect he has on you and enjoys it greatly. His usual humour and charming demeanour fool you for a moment that nothing of great importance is about to happen. It's just another night like many you've had with him and are going to have.
"You speak in such a beautiful way, I often wonder if your words are honest."
His hand moves from the side of your face to cradle the nape of your neck. Hvitserk pulls you in gently and kisses you in an equally tender manner. His lips linger against yours, it's almost sentimental.
"They sound beautiful only because they are honest," he tells you. This time his kiss is more intense. "How else am I supposed to speak to a beautiful woman if not with beautiful words?"
Your giggling breaks the kiss. For a moment, you swear you could hear his low chuckle; for a moment, the world was just right.
Hvitserk's eyes aren't blank anymore. Now, there's a turmoil of happiness and sadness inside them. If a kiss is what brought him back to life then maybe he wasn't simply being charming when he compared you to a goddess countless times.
A playful smile creeps onto your face. Gently, you drag your fingers against his chest. Hvitserk inhales sharply.
"Well, I've heard beautiful women also like crude, dirty words."
"Do they?" he asks with faux surprise. Hvitserk pushes you on your back and puts his weight on top of you. His warm hand is brushing against your bare thigh. "Tell me more," he murmurs against the soft skin of your neck.
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autumnshighlady · 3 months
Text
I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 22)
NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER
summary: the face off with Beron Vanserra is finally about to happen, but the new discover of eris and the reader being mates makes things challenging
warnings: violence, misogyny, beron sucks so rip to y'all who liked him in chapter 20
word count: 3.3k
DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE
a/n: i know this chapter is super super short compared to the usual but i wanted to split this scene up and leave y'all on a major cliffhanger because i am evil
part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20
read on ao3
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
Eris is my mate
The phrase played in a loop in your head as once again chains found their way around your wrists. You barely felt the weight of them, nor did you feel the dampness of the dungeon floor against your knees, or the agonising pain in your body from where Malgorm beat you. You didn’t care that you were in a dungeon, something that typically would have sent you panicking.
All you could think about was how Eris knew he was your mate, and he kept this information from you.
You knew what excuses he’d make – that it wasn’t the right time, that it was too dangerous for you to know right now. But you didn’t care. There would never be a good time to find out that the male who your mate was mated to was also your mate. The concept of it all made your head spin. Never before have you heard of a mating bond existing between three people unanimously. Sure, there were people you knew of in polyamorous relationships, but never with a mating bond. According to legend, the mating bond was designed to bring together a male and female who would produce strong offspring. Nesta and Eris made sense, and with the newfound discovery of your unexplored abilities it was safe to assume that you and Eris being mates somewhat made sense too. But you and Nesta could not create a child together, nor did you have any desire to.
It was too convenient. Too easy to have a mating bond happening to exist between the three of you. And to complicate matters, you knew Nesta still felt linked to Cassian somehow, despite not being his mate.
A thousand questions swarmed your mind as Saeros and Ivar closed the door behind them, leaving you seemingly alone in the cell, waiting for Beron and Eris to arrive.
(Y/N), You heard Nesta’s voice in your head, so close by as if she were whispering softly into your ear. I’m here. Azriel is hiding us in the corner to your left.
You did not reply. All you could do was stare blankly at the floor beneath you, inspecting the various cracks and crevices. The blood of thousands had probably been spilled into this very floor. Perhaps Beron would see right through your plan, and simply smite you into the stone. And perhaps it’d be a blessing.
Nesta’s voice came again, more worried this time. Hey, are you okay? Something’s wrong, I can feel it.
You laughed hoarsely, a harsh sound that echoed eerily throughout the chamber. That’s something you should ask your other mate. Or should I say, our other mate. 
Even the air seemed to still around you, surprise pulsing from Nesta’s end of the bond. I take it he didn’t tell you, either. You continued bitterly.
No. He did not. Did you just find this out?
Another cursed tear fell down your cheek, landing on the cold floor with a delicate plop. Yes, right after you and Azriel left, the bond snapped. He didn’t seem surprised, only… only remorseful. I can’t believe he kept this from me. I trusted him… and now…
You felt a gentle caress down the bond, a soft mist of silver soothing over the raging sea of emotions on your end. You could not see Nesta, or even sense her presence thanks to Azriel’s shadows, but you could feel her.
You could not feel Eris, having elected to put up an iron wall between you and him.
I know this is the last thing you want to deal with right now, but we need to focus on the plan. Nesta said sternly. Believe me, I know the emotional turmoil that comes with finding out Eris is your mate, yours made worse by the fact he lied to you. But none of this matters right now. None of us will be safe with Beron alive. Killing him is all that matters, for the next thirty minutes at least. Can you hold on, just a little longer? Please.
Your heart felt like it was being pulled in a hundred different directions. Deep down, you knew Nesta was right, that none of this mattered if Beron still held dominion over the Autumn Court. So you took a deep breath, forcing the stale air of the dungeon into your lungs. You closed your eyes. I am the rock against which the surf crashes, You told yourself. Nothing can break me.
You imagined Emerie’s hearty laugh, and Gwyn’s bright eyes as you repeated the Valkyrie mantra to yourself over and over again, willing your mind to still. 
You had to get through this. Not just for yourself, or Nesta, but for Gwyn and Emerie. For every female who had suffered like all of you had. For the chance at giving them a better life.
For them, you would do this.
It only took ten minutes before you heard the angry voice of Beron Vanserra, his footsteps heavy against the stairs that winded down into the dungeon deep within the Autumn Court prison. The pounding fuzziness of your head kept you from making out his words, but his tone said enough.
“She’s down here, father. Nobody else knows, I swear by it.” The coming of Eris’s voice was like the crisp autumn breeze that cleared away the dewey morning haze, bringing life to the world around it. Even though you had tried to block him out, his close proximity was too much, and the feeling of his approaching presence sent a tingling warmth through your body, defrosting your bones.
“Make sure your guards know if they breathe a word about this to anyone, I’ll cut off the head of everyone they’ve ever loved.” The High Lord snarled.
Moments later, the heavy door swung open, revealing a shocked but furious looking Beron Vanserra. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and he was clothed in extravagant red and gold robes. Evidently, Beron did not like being woken up in the late hours. Eris strode in behind his father, that familiar cold mask adorning his features. His amber eyes settled on you, and you fought the urge to squirm as he stared at you as if you were nothing.
You knew it was an act, yet it was hard to keep yourself from tearing up. There was no warmth in those eyes that had stared into your very soul with vulnerability as the bond had snapped into place. His lips were pulled down in a scowl that made you cower. It was hard enough to remind yourself you were all playing roles in this situation, but the contrast of the deep-rooted mating bond with the angerEris was looking at you with made the room spin before you.
You forced yourself to look up at Beron. There was no trace of the loving father-in-law facade he had put on in front of Rhys. No, his eyes were black pits in his skull, dark voids of hatred that knew no bounds. You didn’t have to fake your tremor as the High Lord stared you down.
“Eris tells me that Malgorm has been slain by your hand,” Beron said, his voice a thin layer of ice holding back a raging sea. “Do you deny this?”
You had no idea how long Eris, Nesta, and Azriel had planned on letting Beron interrogate you before they made their move. As you scrambled to think of what to say, Nesta spoke urgently into your mind. Buy us time. Eris’s guards need to secure the area in the next few minutes. Talk.
 “It was an accident, your Grace.” You sputtered, desperation seeping into your tone. “He came onto me in the middle of the night, and he brought a knife with him. I was just trying to get him off of me, I didn’t mean to–”
“Silence!” Beron hissed. “I ordered Malgorm to stay away from you. He is an obedient son, and would have listened to me. You must have snuck into his room during the night and tried to kill him to end this engagement.”
“Actually, that is not true.” Eris interjected carefully. “Several eyewitnesses confirm Malgorm was not in his room at that hour, and was seen headed towards the corridor where (Y/N)’s room resides. She is covered in wounds that only Malgorm would have inflicted. You know what kind of male he was, father. You cannot be surprised–”
“SILENCE!” Beron yelled sharply, spit flying from his lips as he shot a glare at Eris. “My son is dead, and you dare speak ill of him before a grave can even be dug for his body? You disgust me.”
Your breath hitched as the High Lord turned back towards you. “I offered you the greatest honour that a pathetic female like you could have hoped for,” He growled. “And you decide that is not good enough and murder my son. You will pay for this with your life, girl.”
“My Lord, may I suggest–” Eris couldn’t finish his sentence before his father cut him off again, unhinged anger coming off him in waves.
“You have no say in this, boy. Your mother made you too softhearted. You would never be able to rule this court successfully, and it is clear I have wasted my breath trying to make you my heir.”
Eris was utterly still, his eyes narrowing like a snake about to strike it’s target. “I will be a better High Lord than you or the bastards who came before you have ever been.” He said calmly.
And then the room exploded.
Tidal waves of silver fire exploded from the darkness, shadows peeling away like curtains to reveal Nesta. Her eyes blazed with silver, that otherworldly magic rippling off her as she used her flames to press the High Lord into the wall. The sound of his body hitting the stone was like thunder over the mountains, creating small cracks along the space behind him. Orange flames joined, entwining through the silver flames like a magical dance. Beron writhed underneath them, sending his own fire in an attempt to defend himself.
But it was no use against the fury of Eris’s fire, or the steel will of Nesta’s magic. Your jaw went slack as you stared at your mates, one bathed in orange and the other in silver. Red and dark gold hair flared around their necks, as if carried by an imaginary breeze. They looked like gods from another world, coming to unleash their power on the inhabitants of this world.
You heard the sound of keys jingling as Azriel’s familiar voice sounded in your ear. “Come on,” He said urgently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The chains released your wrists, your arms falling to the ground with relief. You felt Azriel’s shadows curling around you, ready to winnow you away. “No.” You said firmly.
“This is not up for debate. I’ve been instructed to get you to safety the moment shit goes down, and I intend to do so.”
You turned around to glare at the shadowsinger, his hazel eyes glowing against the silver and orange light from the flames. He was still partially hidden, his shadows dancing around eagerly as if ready to join in on the action. “I am not leaving them until it’s done.” You insisted.
He grabbed your arm firmly. “I will not let you get hurt in the middle of this.”
“Then protect me. I cannot leave them behind. You cannot take me away… again.”
You saw the regret flicker across Azriel’s face as he evidently remembered the last time he stole you away at the Hewn City. It was a low blow, you knew. Especially after all Azriel was risking just by being here helping you. After a moment, the Illyrian sighed, muttering something about your stubbornness before saying, “Fine. Get behind me.”
A shimmering blue light formed around the two of you, shielding you from the angry flames. Azriel’s siphons glowed as he produced a wall of protection. You peeked out from beside his arm to witness the scene before you, heart racing.
“Your time as High Lord has ended, Beron Vanserra.” Eris said sternly, his eyes glowing, his voice an echo on the roaring wind of the flames. “Too long have you sat upon this throne and cast a shadow over this court. Nobody will mourn your death, father. Just as nobody will mourn Malgorm’s. When you see him in hell, what’s left of your souls can spend the rest of your miserable eternity there knowing there isn’t a single individual who wishes either of you were still here.”
You expected Beron to spew vile insults, to fight back angrily and wish a miserable death upon you all. But the male only laughed, a rasping sound like two stones rubbing together. “This is a truly pathetic show,” Beron said. “All of this planning and scheming, and for what? You can’t kill me. You needed the magic of your mate to help you while you strung your other mate up like bait. You’re weak, boy. Too weak to ever take me on properly. You’re a coward, and a fool.”
You felt pure shock coming from both ends of the bond. You couldn’t see Eris and Nesta’s faces from your angle, but their flames flickered for a split second, as if they too couldn’t believe what Beron said.
As if reading your mind, the High Lord snorted and continued. “Get that stupid surprised look off your face. Of course I knew this whole time. You forget, I’ve been in this world a long time and can sniff out mates before they even know it themselves. Of course I was aware of your disgusting threeway bond. It’s the only reason I didn’t slaughter you, boy, for getting engaged to the Archeron female without telling me. I thought marrying that Spring Court wench to Malgorm would take care of some of my problem, at least.”
Nesta spoke up, fury lacing her voice. “What?”
“You are a fool, Eris. Of course Malgorm obeyed my every command. Who do you think told him to attack the girl in her room tonight? I gave the order less than a minute after you left the table, you stupid boy. You handed me the opportunity on a silver platter.”
“Why?” Was all Eris said, his flames angrily licking at Beron’s fingers. A burnt smell began to fill the room as they burned the High Lord’s flesh. 
But like the madman he was, Beron continued manically, seemingly blind to the pain his son was inflicting on him. “A mating bond between three people is unnatural, a crime against all that we hold dear. She needed to be eliminated in order for your marriage to Nesta to work. I didn’t care what Malgorm did to her. I told him he could do as he pleased, as long as it ended with her throat slit.” He turned his beady eyes towards you, making you freeze. “I would have let him carve you up into a thousand pieces. A pity he didn’t get the chance to do so before you murdered him. He was weak. No son of mine would let himself be murdered by a stupid female.”
You weren’t sure you were even breathing as reality sunk in. Beron knew the entire time that the three of you were mates, long before any of you had even figured it out fully. The truth of that sinister cunningness beneath his gaze that had unsettled you made your stomach churn. He had been one step ahead the entire time, counting on Malgorm killing you to ensure a marriage between Eris and Nesta without complication. It took a great amount of self control not to vomit all over Azriel, who was watching the scene unfold with a look of pure horror in his eyes.
A spear of orange fire wrapped around Beron’s throat, leaving red scorch marks on the male’s skin as he gasped for air. “You will not talk about my mate like that, you fucking asshole.” Eris snarled viciously as the flames grey brighter. “I will kill you for this. I will slaughter you for everything you put her through. For everything you put all of us through. Nobody will miss you, you absolute filth.”
Silver and orange flames danced higher, rolling back like a wave about to crash down on the sand. But before Eris and Nesta could strike down the High Lord, the door swung open and the Lady of Autumn ran in.
“Stop!” She cried desperately, her eyes frantic.
“Mother?” Shock laced Eris’s voice, and just for a split second, his flames flickered and dimmed.
That split second was all Beron needed to cast forth a wall of angry fire, pushing Nesta and Eris’s flames away. He roared definitely as your mates were thrown backwards, landing on the cell floor with a loud thump. You tried to pull away from Azriel, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you firm behind his shield. You thrashed and fought, but were no match for the Illyrian. 
“Let me go!” You hissed, stomping on his foot as hard as you could. But he didn’t budge.
“What are you doing?” Eris gasped, making his way back onto his feet with unsteady legs. A thin trail of blood trickled down his nose, evidence of the toll that much power took on him. Nesta scrambled to her feet, silver flames already curling defensively around her hands. You couldn’t help but notice how they trembled.
“Please don’t do this, Eris.” Lirilla begged. “He is your father. I have already lost so many of your brothers, don’t take your father from me, too. Let him go.”
Eris looked utterly broken, confusion and sadness written plainly across his features. The arrogant confident mask he had donned moments ago was gone. “You know more than any of us what kind of male he is,” Eris insisted. “Let me free us of him. For good.”
“Please, no. Eris…” The Lady of Autumn sobbed.
Your heart shattered at the sight. Fresh bruises were visible on the frail female’s body, yet she stood here and begged her son to not kill the one who inflicted them. Eris’s mother had endured Beron’s abuse so long she seemingly didn’t know who she was without it or him. She could not dare hope that things would ever change, so she accepted her fate, finding comfort in the dark corner her husband forced her into.
You remembered how she offered you some sanctuary the other night, willing to endure more abuse to spare you from some of it. She had seemed so resourceful, so strong despite all she had faced.
Yet here she stood, regressed before her cruel husband as she begged for his life to be spared.
Rather than rushing towards Eris or Nesta, Beron’s dark red flames wound around Lirilla’s throat. Her eyes popped open as they suffocated her, and the High Lord stood himself up and came over to stand beside her, facing Eris and Nesta.
“Stand down, or your mother dies.” Beron growled sternly, a sick glee coming across his features.
Your heart was in your throat as you felt Eris being torn in too – closer to his goal than he had ever been before, but uncertain of what to do. “You’re bluffing.” Eris said, but his voice was weak as he watched his mother gasp for air.
“Am I?” Beron said, fixing a glare at Nesta, who was frozen in shock. “You too, girl. Stand down. Now.”
A heartbroken look passed between Eris and Nesta. You felt every turmoil of emotion through the bonds, ripping away at your heart as you watched Eris nod to Nesta. Silver and orange flames evaporated into thin air, leaving behind angry scorch marks.
Beron laughed harshly, psychotic dark eyes gleaming as he snarled at his son. “I told you, boy. Your mother made you too softhearted.”
Before any of you could react, a sick crunching sound echoed throughout the dungeon as Beron reached over with his own two hands and snapped the Lady of Autumn’s neck.
The light left Lirilla’s eyes as her body fell down onto the cold floor in a crumpled heap.
And Eris began screaming. 
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compact-turtle · 1 year
Note
AGGGHHHH IVAR IS BBG
Please I beg you. We need more info on him I just wanna give him a big huge hug this man has been through enough AHHHH your writing is very good
Ivar is so bbg omg!! Totally would enjoy a hug from you <3
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Charsima stat: Maxed out. 
-Owns a huge book of jokes. Memorizes at least half of them just so he has something to tell you. Jokes are not funny. Terribly cheesy and corny.
-Loves his comrades who are his found family deeply. He’s cultivated such a deep bond with them. 
-Perfect listener. Will sit there and listen to you tell him about all your thoughts. Also enjoy gossiping with you.
“The nurse who works second shifts tried to get with the Head surgeon. But everyone knows the Surgeon is married.” 
“That is so shady of her. Does the wife know?” 
-A secret love of Sanrio characters. (especially loves Pompompurin.) 
-Anime nerd. A huge fan of Neon Genesis Evangelion and Inuyasha. Has a small figurine of Shinji in the chair doing his iconic pose. 
-Ivar’s love language is spending time together. It doesn’t matter if it’s watching shows or going on dates. Only thing that matters is if you’re with him. 
-May or may not have a copy of your apartment key. Don’t worry though! He only has it in case you lose yours. (At least that’s what he tells himself) 
-Has also visited your apartment when you aren’t home. He’ll clean up, do dishes and organize your fridge for when come home. You don’t ever seem to notice due to how exhausted you are after work.
-He really enjoys eating whatever you make him. It could be the nastiest burnt and not seasoned food but he'd love it in the end,
-Very observant when it comes to you. He notices when your mood changes, and if something in your routine is off. Try to fix whatever the problem is. 
-Easily jealous. Doesn’t like when other men hang around you. Immediately switches his outgoing persona to asshole #1 to anyone else who’s interested in you. 
-If anyone else ever tries to harass you, Ivar will convince his boys to jump the person. He’ll corner the dude and beat them until they learn their lesson. 
-Ivar if anyone bothers you: 
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axelsagewrites · 3 months
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Greetings!
I hope you don't mind me sliding in your ask box! I want to request Ivar x fem!reader, who suffers from a condition named vaginismus.
Vaginismus is a condition where the vagina cramps so hardly, that penetration is very painful. It can get treated by mental therapy and slowly getting comfortable with sex. It's mostly caused by traumatic events.
I seek for some wholesomeness combined with Ivar. You don't have to focus on any smut part if you'll feel uncomfortable, sole comfort would be enough!
Feel free to decline! Remember to drink enough and have a lovely day! ❤️
Ivar the Boneless*Does It Hurt?
Pairing: Ivar x f!reader
Word count: 1830
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Warnings: insecurities, mentions of painful sex, mentions of shitty exes, make out, fingering, f!receiving oral, p in v sex, Ivar wanting to get revenge on the crappy ex, smut 18+
Masterlist Here
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Being with Ivar was the best decisions you’d ever made there was only one small issue. You'd never actually *been* with him. its not that you hadn’t had sex before, but it always just seemed to hurt. You’d tried in the past to just push through the pain, usually at the guy’s request, but you were done being in constant pain for someone else’s benefit. Which is partially why the rumours about Ivars’s bedroom mishap didn’t bother you.
You knew it was something he was insecure about and you’d assured him countless times it didn’t bother you. so, one night when you were making out sitting in his lap and you felt something hard pressing into you. You were a bit shocked to say the least. It must have all been nerves but now you were the one who was nervous. It’s not like you didn’t want to do it with Ivar you were just scared.
Ivar’s hand slowly trailed up your leg, stroking over your thigh, till he was squeezing your hip as you moaned into the kiss. You had been with Ivar for a while now, but you had never been *with* him. your hands crept down his shoulders till you were squeezing his muscular arms. Despite the taunts some people liked to make you could feel something hard grinding against your leg.
He broke the kiss but only to trail some down your neck, going between nipping and kissing the sensitive skin. It felt like bliss. His hands slowly began to tug at your skirts, pulling them up so he could feel the soft flesh of your thighs but when you felt him try push them apart you couldn’t help but clamp up, your body going rigid.
Ivar paused his movements, pulling away to face you after a moment, “Is everything okay my love?” he asked. There was a mix of emotions behind his eyes; insecurity, lust but most presently concern.
“I-I,” you began to stutter making Ivar move his hand from your leg to cup your jaw.
He stroked his thumb gently across your skin, “Have you never…?” he asked, voice trailing off.
You took a deep breath before shaking your head, “I have its just,” you said as you sat up in bed, Ivar moving to sit beside you are holding your hand, “It hurts whenever I have before,”
“Hurts how?”
You sighed as you decided you may as well just tell him. the last guy you had told just rolled his eyes and left to find someone else for that night, but Ivar waited patiently as you explained, “Whenever I’ve tried to have sex it just kind of hurts? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not that I don’t want you,” you said, squeezing his hand, “it just feels like it won’t go in and when it does it just- “
“Hurts?” he said cutting off your rambles, “it’s okay love. We don’t have to- “
“But I want too, I swear I do- “
“I believe you,” he cut you off, moving to hold your face gently. Ivar placed a soft kiss to your lips instantly calming you down, “Is it just when things are going in?” he asked, and you nodded. His eyes moved to scan your frame as his hand moved to rest on your thigh, “We could always try something else,” he said, eyes moving to meet yours with a glint behind them.
You felt your cheeks begin to heat up, “I know men don’t actually like that stuff- “
“What idiot told you that?”
“This guy I used to- “you paused when you saw Ivars’s jaw tense, “It was a long time ago but some of the things he said just kind of stuck with me I guess,”
“Like what?”
You took a deep breath before spilling out, “That guys don’t like that kind of stuff and it was my problem not his. How it was my job to get him off and not the other way around and if I was broken then there were other ways to do that- “
Ivar took your hands tightly in his, making you pause, “No. it is not a job or a chore or anything else. You are not broken. You are just different,” he said, moving one of his hands to rest over your heart, “We both are. That’s what you used to tell me,” he said, his voice low. “You were there for me when no one else was. I want to be there for you. whether we have sex or not and whatever sex is to us. We take it at our pace, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered back, half on the verge of crying as Ivars other hand moved to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.
Well, it was supposed to be gentle, but you found your lips moving faster and soon you’d moved to straddle his lap as his hands gently squeezed your hips. You could feel his bulge through his trousers and you grinded against it softly making him groan into your mouth.
“Lay on your back,” he mumbled against your lips. you went to speak but he cut you off with a kiss, “trust me,” something about his eyes staring into yours entranced you and soon you were laying down as his lips travelled down your jaw and neck.
You were still in your dress, but his hands soon pulled it up till it was around your waist as he kissed down your collarbones. You felt your body tensed as Ivars’s hand inched closer to your core. “We’ll go slow, okay? tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered. You nodded quickly and sucked in your breath when you felt his fingers push against your clit.
He moved them in slow circles as his lips sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck. Little moans escaped your lips, and you heard Ivar chuckle when your hips began to buck. You whined when he pulled his fingers away but watched with fixed eyes as he shuffled down your body till his hot breath fanned over your cunt.
Ivar began to kiss your inner thighs, leading a trail up to your core. When his tongue licked up your cunt you couldn’t help but gasp. It soon turned into a moan however when his mouth wrapped around your clit. Your hand quickly found his hair, tugging on it gently which only seemed to spur his movements on as he groaned against your cunt sending shivers down your spine.
You could feel a strange new sensation growing in your stomach. “Please,” you murmured, “Don’t stop,” you began to beg, and Ivar had no intensions of stopping anytime soon. he moved down till you could feel his tongue poking at your hole, easing in so he could gently fuck you with his tongue while his nose rubbed against your clit.
The sensation had you gripping his hair tightly, your hips bucking inadvertently as you grinded gently on his face. Ivar locked his arms around your thighs, stopping you from wiggling away as he continued his merciless assault on your cunt till, he felt your thighs squeezing around his head.
A stream of profanity and his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself crash over the wall. Ivar didn’t move however till he was sure you’d ridden out your peak. When he did pull back his eyes were dark as he moved to kiss your lips hard as you moaned into the kiss.
His fingers trailed up your slit before gently pushing the tip of his finger in, “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered as he pushed further in, curling his finger inside of you making you moan. it hurt a little but not enough to want to stop. You might scream if he stopped as he began to slowly fuck you with one finger before slowly adding another.
His thumb moved to rub circles over your clit, and you could feel another peak quickly approaching, “Ivar?” you mumbled against his lips.
“Yes love?” he asked, pulling away with panting breath.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said, taking him by surprise as his eyes went wide.
He quickly tried to cover up his reaction, “Are you sure?”
“Please don’t make me beg,” you pouted but it just sparked a joy behind his eyes.
“Maybe I’d like it if you did,” he said, pulling his fingers out which made you whine until you saw him pushing his trousers down, releasing his painfully hard cock.
He moved till his tip was lined with your hole when he paused, “Tell me if- “
“I will, I promise,” you said, grabbing his face and making him look you in the eyes, “I trust you,”
His eyes went soft for a moment before he nodded and slowly began to push in. he stopped when he saw you hissing as you adjusted to his size but kept going at your encouragement. “Fuck,” he gasped as he pushed the last bit in, “You feel so good,”
You waited a moment, adjusting to the size before moving your hips. Ivar quickly got the hint and began to set a gentle pace. That was till your legs moved to wrap around his waist and Ivar began fucking you faster, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he moaned your praises in your ear.
His hand moved between your bodies, finding your clit as he rubbed fast circles into your abused nerves. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin which only made it harder for him not to cum right then and there. But he did his best to hold off. You however felt your second orgasm quickly approaching and soon your cunt began to squeeze around his cock as you hit your peak, mumbling his name over and over as you did.
The sight of it, the feeling, it was too much for Ivar as he gripped onto the bed tightly as he pumped his final few thrusts before spilling inside you. Ivar collapsed on top of you in a panting heap. His head was resting on your chest as you rubbed his back gently. “Did I hurt you?” he mumbled through half closed eyes.
“No Ivar, it was perfect,”
Ivar lifted his head with a soft smile, “No you were perfect,” he moved to lay next to you, pulling his shirt over his head to use to clean you up before you settled into bed to cuddle. It was a perfect silence. Well for a few moments, “Who was he?”
“Who was who?”
“The man you were seeing before,” Ivar said making you turn to look at him.
Your eyes scanned his face, but he could hide his emotions when he wanted to, “Why?” you asked sceptically.
“No reason. Just think we should have a little talk is all,”
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ias2xoo · 1 year
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¡! ❞ troublesome
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘬 𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬
-/-
you sat in the main hall as everyone finished celebrating. ivar had just announced the next raids and everyone was more than excited. you, however, weren’t looking forward to being without your husband as you both had just married. you wished to spend time with him but you knew what kind of person he was when you both wed.
at last, the only people left in the hall were you, ivar in his throne and a drunken hvitserk. noticing them seemingly in a deep conversation you turned to the bedroom when you were called.
“brother,” ivar began, hand pulling you into his lap. “something has been troubling me. my beautiful wife has noticed you staring at her.” his mouth quirked upwards with that familiar sense of mischief.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, when had you told ivar this? “staring? when?” he finished with a mouth full of ale.
“never mind that. you know what this tells me, it tells me you think you are better than me brother.” ivar’s hand began to rub your thigh. “am i correct?”
“no- i could never..”
“staring at her beautiful face, “ his fingers brushed your cheek. “staring at her body,” his hand squeezed your thigh as you stared at him timidly. “staring at her chest.” suddenly his hand ripped open your top, your boobs spilling out.
“ivar!” you exclaimed, arms going to cover your self.
“i understand now!” he clapped, “you wish to fuck her.”
“no.” hvitserk seemed to have sobered up at his brother’s actions.
“yes,” ivar chuckled, “yes you do, brother. well go head.”
“what?” both you and hvitserk asked in sync.
“no, i can’t. she’s yo-your…” hvitserk mumbled inaudibly. your eyes traveled to his and he quickly looked away, refusing to make eye contact. had he really been staring at you this entire time, wishing for your affections?
“my what, hvitserk?” ivar’s tone had darkened as if he had grown tired of the little game between him and his older brother.
“your wife.” he finally coughed up.
“correct. now watch me fuck my beautiful wife.” his hand roughly grasped your cheeks, planting a hard kiss to your lips. his other hand began working on your skirts, ripping them open till you were only down to your garments.
“ivar…” you whispered.
“ssh, my love.” too soaked for your dignity you began opening his pants revealing his hard length. “go ‘head, darling.” you sat down on his length, allowing him to stretch you out slowly.
“fuck.” he grumbled, hands going your guide your hips. “faster.” he commanded, a slap landing on your ass.
you sped up, hips grinding into his length with velocity. you could care less where you were right now or who was watching. this was the most ivar had touched you in awhile.
moaning, you began to lean back. as your head curved back, your eyes met hvitserk’s. ivar chuckled as his hands went into his pants revealing his member.
“i guess he did want to fuck you after all.”
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itoendme · 4 months
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i havent ranted about vinland saga in a hot second but after doing some manga rereading, i've been thinking about how vinland saga conveys so well how hard it is to actually break the cycle of violence.
thorfinn doesn't just become a pacifist. it takes time, effort, and self reflection both to decide that he wants to give up violence and to actually make good on that. and he does relapse. he punches the bullies retainers at the farm, he fights against snake, and during the baltic sea war, he fights garm ad nearly kills floki. just because he's not using weapons doesn't mean he's not being violent. in the instances of snake and garm, he's not being violent because he wants to hurt people, but because of the society he lives in and the circumstances he grew up in, fighting often occurs to him as the easiest and/or only way out. many of his problems would be solved more easily with violence. if he'd beat canute's guard at the farm, he wouldn't have had to endure 100 punches. if he'd fought garm earlier, they could have gotten out of the baltic sea war a hell of a lot easier. if he'd beat up ivar, maybe things would have turned out differently instead of raising tensions that ultimately led to violence in the end. swearing off violence is a choice that actively makes his life infinitely harder. it's not easy for him, and it's not something he succeeds at in one go.
and then we have hild. forgiving thorfinn for her father's murder and choosing not to continue the cycle is not a quick or easy decision for her. its something she agonizes over. even though she knows from the beginning that forgiving him is what her father wants her to do, it's not so easy for her to follow that advice. she hates thorfinn, she's the only one of the vinland gang that's seen what he did as a warrior first hand, and having the others try to tell her that her anger isn't justified because 'thorfinn is a good guy now' must have only fueled her anger. And even after she stops seeing thorfinn as a threat, it still takes time for that hatred to ebb away. and eventually making the decision not only to spare his life, but to forgive him, reconciling the vision of him that she built in her head with what she observed of him after joining the group was an internal battle.
breaking the cycle of violence isn't something you can do just by thinking that you should. it's greater than any one person. In the setting of vs, violence and revenge are societal norms. vagn is disappointed in thorfinn when thorfinn refuses to kill floki. I'm bad at writing conclusions, but i just really appreciate how, in vs the transition from wanting and indulging in violence to denouncing it is well-paced and realistic.
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lokifromvalhalla · 1 year
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A nice punishment
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play
Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.
Not proofread! Sorry for any mistake!
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
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“How many times do I have to tell you?” You sighed as your hands ran across his warm back, feeling every muscle and the bump of every scar under your fingertips. That was something you had done so many times already that you almost memorized his whole back, always knowing if there was any new scar, as small as it could be.
Ivar scoffed, his back vibrating with each word. “And what do you want me to do? Simply not go anywhere? Just sit here like your little doll, is it?” Of course he would be dramatic, twist your words just so you could feel guilty and let him do whatever he wanted, but you already had a resistance to his whining just like Ubbe and Hvitserk, even if it wasn’t as strong. Dealing with Ivar wasn’t any new to you; you were there long before Ragnar returned, then with him when Ragnar came back and took him to England, helped avenge his father’s death, and now dominate York.
The flames from the torches hanging from the stone walls illuminated the room. Ivar had taken over the cathedral so he could establish his base, and used one of the  main rooms—probably the bishop's—for himself. It was wide, rather luxurious, as a noble's place. In the first days, you would just hang around the room, but with how he kept asking you to help him with massages or undoing his braces until late at night, now it was also yours.
Today was something like this. A long day of unnecessary efforts and blueish eyes by the morning had Ivar’s muscles protesting in pain, so you were there once again, your hands rubbing oil against his rough skin in an attempt to help him despite all the complaints. He did appreciate what you were doing, though. You knew it was some sort of facade because, even between four walls and a closed door, Ivar still had to keep his goddamn posture at least in a few points to ‘keep you humble’. As if you couldn’t shape him exactly the way you wanted, just like Ubbe would do with his younger brothers sometimes.
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” you chuckled against his skin and pressed a kiss to the back of his ear. “My pretty little doll, all for me to use, hm?”
Ivar was silent for a moment, choking on his own words to the same level his cheeks heated up, just seconds before he was turning around and throwing his hands in the air. “What do you think you’re saying? I’m going to feed you flaming hot iron if you keep it like this!”
Another chuckle escaped your lips as you pushed him to face forward again. “And what?” You pulled him against you so his back met your chest instead. “Lose your best warrior? Best strategist? I don’t think you could handle even a day without me, knowing I’m not coming back,” you mumbled, chin over his shoulder and arms under his whilst watching your hands work against his ribs, slowly going up.
Whatever was going on in Ivar’s mind, vanished at the moment your hands started running over his chest. Instead, there were only quiet and incoherent grumbles that you could barely make out. “(Y/n), what...” His words trailed off, breath caught in his throat—he tried to fight against the will to arch his back at the feeling of your fingers tracing his nipples, running around them until they were hard. "Wh..."
"I'm just doing the massage you asked for," you scoffed, hands going down his torso just to come up and stop right under his pecs, proceeding to go up slowly. Ivar hissed at the friction as he arched his back; his hands tugged a little on the sheets before they found their way to your thighs, hence his nails sank into the skin messily in an attempt to both ground himself and warn you. Fruitlessly, of course. "How was your day, Ivar? You just mentioned why you're in so much pain, but never really told me what happened while I was gone.”
“Quit playing.”
“I asked you a question.” The weight in your voice had him shutting up for a moment, though the silence was quickly broken by a moan. Your fingers pinched his nipple, and it shouldn’t feel so good.
Ivar sucked in a breath, at first just spitting out stutters until the way you squeezed his pec had him speaking. “I—I was training, but then got... got in a fight.”
Got in a fight? You clicked your tongue. “Ivar. You woke up with blue-ish eyes, why would you even do that?” It was entertaining to watch how sensitive he was, slowly starting to squirm just because of his chest being fondled.
An indignant gasp came from Ivar, but he paused for a moment; his head leaned back against your shoulder for a moment while his hand adjusted against your thigh. “No...! I couldn’t let that happen! H—He was challenging me! Provoking!” His voice cracked once you pinched his nipple, playing with it between your index finger and your thumb, daring to give it an experimental tug. A louder gasp escaped his lips, back arched against you.
Oh, the old discourse about how a cripple can’t rule properly, you thought. It was already getting annoying to deal with.
“Of course, you ignored everything,” you mumbled, continuing to pinch his nipple, though now also doing the same to the other, and it was enough to start reducing him to pieces—the already uneven breathing lost its pace completely while his fingers trying to grip onto your skin however they could, almost having him throw his hips in the air in search for friction. “and grabbed your little sword so you’d kill the poor man.”
“Not a poor man!” Ivar growled. “He dared to doubt... of one of the sons...” He never finished his sentence, words lost into the dark corners of the room once you let go of him so you could get off your position. “Hey! What are you doing?” The blue irises were nothing but thin rings around the dilated pupils that observed you in desire.
Your chuckle had his eyebrows lowering, mouth pursing. “I thought you didn’t like it?” You raised an eyebrow, moving around until you straddled his thighs, pushing him back against the pillows. Whatever answer he had on the tip of his tongue, it died down with the way you parted his legs with a knee, carefully, instead earning yourself a glare, but it would take a lot more to discourage you. His hips were warm under your hands as you held onto them while leaning down to press kisses to his neck, sometimes nibbling on the skin. “You complain so much, sometimes I don’t know whether it’s real or not. How do you feel being so annoying?” 
“I think that you should shut the fuck up before getting yourself killed.” Empty words, of course. Ivar liked the teasing, if anything. In contrast to his words, his arms wrapped around your shoulders at the same time he threw his head back into the pillows to grant you more access.
You breathed a chuckle against his skin, feeling it rise with a shiver according to how you trailed down. “Oh, honey, you still insist on tricking yourself that you can live without me? Pitiful.”
It was fun to tease Ivar then silence him, watch the frustration build up in groans and quiet complaints, his nails sometimes pressing into your skin a little too hard. He was once again silenced, letting out a hum instead at how your lips worked on a spot some inches down his collarbones, sucking and nibbling on the skin until a purple spot was left behind. You knew he had some sort of sensitivity when it came to his chest, but you never knew it was that great until you decided to start exploring it that night; it probably was greater that time, given how long he had gone without being touched like that.
The way he shuddered and breathed shakily just because of how your tongue ran flat over his nipple was truly rewarding. You did it once more, this time snatching a moan that extended itself by how his crotch found a nice source of friction when meeting your thigh on the way once it pushed up. Your grip on his hips didn’t really prevent him from moving, more of guiding his movements and limiting his freedom.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you came untouched,” you mention. You could taste the light herbal taste of the oil on your tongue—it wasn’t bad, actually.
Ivar clicked his tongue, glancing down at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else start praying for their life, but not you. Never you. That look didn’t give you anything more than entertainment. “Do you wish to die?”
“To kill you would be fun, actually.” A grin tugged on your lips, easily having Ivar more flustered. He wasn’t in position to criticize anything anymore, nor had enough coherent thoughts for it; he just turned his head away instead.
At first, soft kisses surrounded his nipple, soon being replaced by your teeth softly tugging on the skin, and there it was—whines spilled from his mouth with every nib until he clasped a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds. It had you pausing, taking a moment to observe his messy form. Sweat had some of his hair strands stuck to his forehead, skin already flush and glistening softly under the dancing light of the flames. His chest heaved up and down with the deep sharp inhales.
The lack of interaction had Ivar’s eyes slowly turning to look at you, and that fucking deathly gaze had something stirring in your lower stomach.
“I wanna hear you,” you finally said, pressing a kiss to his fingers before you started to tug his hand away from his face, finally kissing his lips instead. His hands somehow felt in the way of something, something he didn’t know, but it still didn’t really feel right to just grip onto the sheets while you worked on him. He whined softly against your lips, kissing back with little care because all that mattered was how good you treated him, nibbling on his lips and letting your tongue meet his.
His back started arching once you started trailing down his neck once again, this time starting to nibble on the area around his nipple right away, this time working on the opposite one, with your hands back around his hips, tightly. “Fuck,” he whispered softly, voice tight in his throat, soon replaced by a moan. Your lips wrapped around his nipple to suck softly on it until he was arching his back and fighting against your hands, so you’d change to running your tongue flat against the nub instead.
It was slow and agonizing. Every single time the feeling would start to take over Ivar, erase the thoughts away from his head and have his eyes rolling back, you were there to pull him down, ground him again. Ivar crashed back into reality with quiet complaints and groans that only motivated you to continue, even if your lips would be left sore later. Then, there it was, finally. This time, you weren’t pulling away at the moment his hips started pushing up; you continued to suck on his nipple, even letting your teeth tug on it, and he wasn’t even that restrained anymore, with one of your hands letting go of him to instead fondle with the opposite side of his chest.
A string of curses escaped Ivar’s lips, though soon interrupted by the lack of air in his lungs, his teeth gritted and eyes pressed shut. His hips dragged slowly against your thigh, sending sparkles up his body and down again, right to his lower stomach. His shorter breaths had each time more space between them, as if just breathing would drive his focus away from his release, but then, there it was; a long moan was drawn from his lips at the same moment he finally came. As much as you wanted to see the face he was making, it seemed more of an advantage to continue messing with him until he was squirming, on the edge of oversensitivity.
You pressed a kiss to the bright red skin before you finally brought yourself up to look at him. He had his eyes shut, mouth moving lightly in inaudible mumbles to himself until he opened one eye lazily to observe you.
“You good, love?”
Ivar nodded lightly. “Do you need me to...?”
“No, no.” You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “For the gods, Ivar,” you chuckled, “look at you. Came untouched, in your pants!” And just a few words had the haze that took over him fading away, replaced by his usual annoyance, curses and threats that escaped his lips seemingly unstoppingly.
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multific · 1 year
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New Home
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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
Summary: Ivar brought Hvitserk home.
Hvitserk was his only brother left, so upon hearing about the kidnapping of his brother, Ivar, the King of Kattegat found himself on a ship.
Leaving everything behind, to save his brother.
And being the victorious leader he was, Ivar was able to save Hvitserk.
"Why did you come to save me?" asked Hvitserk as the ship sailed.
"Would you rather stay in that Christian filled village? I am bringing you home, brother."
"I have heard many tales about your Ivar. How you became King and earned respect."
"That I did. And if you wish, after your healing, you can stay."
They soon arrived back, everything was as Hvitserk remembered, the only thing hanging was the people he saw, he could barely recognize everyone.
Then, they got to Ivar's house.
"I'm back!" Ivar yelled and Hvitserk reached for his knife when he heard footsteps approach.
"DADDY!!!" Hvitserk watched as two young girls rushed over to Ivar who was now sitting in a chair. Both telling stories of their days, jumping up and down.
"Father. You are back earlier than expected." a young boy, older than the girls stopped in his tracks as he saw Hvitserk. Now the girls also noticed him.
"This is my brother, your uncle, Hvitserk. Now be careful he requires some healing so be nice."
"Uncle?" one of the girls asked.
"Yes." Ivar confirmed. "These are my children. My eldest son Finn, my twins, Halla and Hella." introduced Ivar his children to his brother. "My wife is... where is your mother?"
"She is feeding Assur." replied Finn as Ivar nodded.
"My youngest, born only a couple weeks ago, Assur."
"You have this many children?" Hvitserk was seriously surprised.
"I would have more... but Y/N said four would be enough."
"Y/N?" Hvitserk was confused. The name did sound familiar but he wasn't sure how.
"I'm here. I'm here, girls go wash your hands, I'll put food on the table, Finn, love, help your sisters please." you arrived with your son in your arms as your other children listened. "Hvitserk, really nice to see you... you do look like shit. Eat with us. I'll call the healer over later." you smiled at Hvitserk as you walked over to Ivar, offering him his son and a kiss. "Welcome home."
"How is he?"
"Strong. Has been kicking all day." you replied as you started to set the table. Ivar looked at his son, grabbing his leg and pushing it back softly, only for the small man to push back against his palm.
"Good."
Hvitserk stood stunned. Ivar was a smart man, this is exactly what he expected from his brother. Seeing him with children, who ran around.
"I'm-Congratulations brother. You have a nice family." Hvitserk finally walked further into the house, looking at his still sitting brother and the babe in his arms.
"Thank you," Ivar hoped this will give his brother another reason to stay.
"Say, Y/N, why does your name sound so familiar?" Hvitserk asked during supper.
"I used to be a shieldmaiden."
"Mummy was the best!" one of the girls, Hella, chimed in. Her twin nodded.
"I sure was. I met Ivar during a raid. We soon married and settled down."
Simple story really.
Hvitserk smiled as the boy sitting next to him looked shy.
"And so, Kattegat is thriving." Ivar nodded.
"Growing, new people moving in, the market is also growing greatly. I see merchants coming from far lands."
"Sounds like a dream."
"It is, and we are happy to live here. Kattegat is evergrowing and safe." you replied as you took a bite from your food.
After food, Hella and Halla thought it would be a good opportunity to show Hvitserk around their room, showing him the toys their father made as Finn also joined them, showing his room and belongings.
"My plan is working, Lovie." said Ivar as he hugged you, slowly pushing you against the wall.
"To have your brother back is something you longed for since I gave birth to Finn."
"I always wanted my family to be proud of me. My children and you are what I'm the proudest of." you smiled at Ivar before pulling him in for a short kiss before your youngest required your attention once more.
Ivar groaned as he watched you get the babe and placed him on your hip. You kissed his forehead and smiled as the babe giggled.
A sight Ivar would never be tired of.
You with your children.
The love of his life and the very thing born from the love you two shared.
Soon, he too had to leave as the girls wanted to show their uncle the animals in the woods.
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