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#ivar x you
zapreportsblog · 6 months
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings
✭ summary : ivar has always thought of himself to be a failure of a man, his legs did not work like an normal man, his prick did not work. The only thing he was good for was being a prince and a warrior though he wasn’t all that good at being even those in his eyes, but then along came a woman. One so pure, so beautiful she looked to be a goddess amongst men. And with those sweet words she spoke “I will bare you many sons ivar the boneless.”
✭ authors note : I have requests closed as y’all seen but it’s only temporarily, haven’t really been up to writing and seeing as how I had many ideas in mind for stories I thought fuck it let’s try again
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The morning sun cast a golden glow over the great hall of Ivar's family estate, illuminating the long wooden table laden with bread, cheese, and freshly caught fish. Ivar sat at the head of the table, his older brother Sigurd to his right. As usual, Sigurd couldn't resist testing his patience.
"Good morrow, brother," Sigurd teased, a wicked glint in his eye. "Have you finally learned how to eat without spilling half your breakfast on your tunic?"
Ivar clenched his jaw, determined to keep his composure. Their sibling rivalry had existed for as long as he could remember, and it showed no signs of waning. He forced a strained smile. "I'm making progress, Sigurd, unlike some."
Before the exchange could escalate further, the heavy wooden doors of the great hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A thrall, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, stumbled into the room. The hushed conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to the intruder.
Ivar rose from his seat, ready to reprimand the thrall for her lack of decorum, but before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees, her head bowed low.
"Forgive me, my lords," the thrall panted, her voice trembling. "I bring urgent news."
Ivar exchanged puzzled glances with Sigurd. Urgent news was a rarity in their peaceful corner of the world. He gestured for the thrall to continue.
She raised her head, revealing wide, terrified eyes. "Freya herself has come and blessed us. She walks among us."
The words hung in the air like a spell, and a collective gasp swept through the hall. Ivar's skepticism wrestled with the growing sense of anticipation. Gods did not simply descend from the heavens to walk among mortals.
Before he could question the thrall further, the great hall erupted into chaos. The guests and servants rushed toward the entrance, shoving past each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the so-called Freya. Ivar, however, moved reluctantly through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.
And there she stood, in the center of the throng, an ethereal vision that defied belief. Freya, if that truly was her name, had luscious hair that billowed in the wind, eyes that seemed to hold both otherworldly wisdom and untold mysteries. Her face was mature but agelessly youthful, her features mirroring the very essence of a Viking legend. It was as if the stories of the gods themselves had come to life.
The hall was filled with awe-struck whispers as people fell to their knees, proclaiming that the gods had indeed come to pay them a visit.
Amidst the reverence, Freya's gaze found Ivar's, and she offered him a serene smile. A shiver ran down his spine as their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them.
"We have much to talk about," she said, her voice carrying a mysterious weight that left Ivar both uneasy and captivated.
As the crowd continued to kneel and worship the divine presence before them, Ivar couldn't help but wonder what secrets this so-called Freya held and how her arrival would reshape their world.
Ivar stood alongside his older brothers, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubba, each of them caught between awe and skepticism as they gazed upon the enigmatic woman who claimed to be Freya. The hall had fallen into reverent silence, save for the murmurs of those who dared to question her divine presence.
"Are you truly the goddess Freya?" Sigurd finally ventured to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Freya, or the woman who bore her name, smiled, but her response held an air of mystery. "My face holds many names, Freya may just be one of them."
The brothers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her cryptic words. It was Ubba who stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the ethereal figure before them. "Why have you come to bless us, then?" he inquired, his tone respectful but inquisitive. "If I may ask without sounding rude."
The woman, who had introduced herself as (Y/N), let out a melodic laugh that echoed through the hall. "Rude? Not at all, dear Ubba. You see, I am here for Ivar."
Ivar's heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward him. He had been prepared for many things this day, but not for such a direct and unsettling revelation. He struggled to find his voice. "For me?"
(Y/N) nodded, her enigmatic smile never faltering. "Yes, for you, Ivar. If you were to accept me into your home, I would bear you many healthy children."
The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning and implications that Ivar could hardly fathom. The weight of her gaze bore down on him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul. It was a proposition unlike any other, one that would reshape not only his destiny but that of his family and people as well.
Sigurd couldn't suppress the unease that gnawed at his heart. He looked from his brothers to (Y/N), his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why him, and not one of us?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
(Y/N) met Sigurd's gaze with an unwavering serenity. "You are all favored by the gods," she began, her voice carrying an air of wisdom. "But Ivar, he is favored above all. The accomplishments you will face, the children you will bear into this world—they will be great, but not as great as his."
The revelation left Sigurd and his brothers exchanging troubled glances. It was a difficult truth to accept, that their destinies were preordained and that Ivar's path would surpass theirs. But even in the midst of their uncertainty, (Y/N) offered a glimpse of hope.
Ubba, ever the one to voice the unasked questions, spoke next. "If you are truly Freya," he began cautiously, "then how come you are here with us and not your husband, the Allfather? I do not wish to be rude, but you are married to Odin, are you not? Yet you speak of carrying my brothers' children."
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes holding a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Odin and I have long since split," she explained. "But for the sake of the other gods, we remain faithful to one another—just not in the way one would think."
The brothers exchanged another set of glances, their minds trying to grasp the complexities of divine relationships and the implications of (Y/N)'s presence in their lives.
Amidst the questions and uncertainties, Ivar felt a wave of insecurity washing over him. He couldn't help but voice his doubt, his voice laden with self-deprecation. "You should choose one of my brothers or someone else," he said, his tone laced with a mix of humility and resignation. "They are able men and can do all the things a woman would need in a man. You don't deserve a cripple like me."
(Y/N) turned his head gently, making him meet her gaze once more. Her smile remained, unwavering. "But yet I chose you."
The words held a weight that Ivar struggled to comprehend. In that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depths of the path that lay ahead, one where gods and mortals intertwined in ways he had never imagined.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Ivar found himself giving in to the uncharted territory that (Y/N) had brought into his life. The same night they met, they wed an impromptu ceremony all of Kattegat’s members and held a extravagant feast of celebration.
Now, in the dimly lit chamber, amidst the cheers and laughter, the newlyweds were about to partake in the bedding ceremony. Ivar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he apologized, his voice tremulous. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
(Y/N) leaned in close, her eyes holding a comforting reassurance. "You'll do just fine," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I've seen how your first time went, my dearest ivar. It is normal to be nervous, especially when it's not the one you truly want."
Ivar felt a surge of relief wash over him. Her understanding words eased his doubts, and he let himself surrender to the passion that simmered between them.
Throughout the night, their love-making was fervent, passionate, and filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. The hours blurred together, and the dawn found them entwined, their bodies and souls intimately connected.
The next morning, Ivar awoke with a grin that was unusually happy for the stoic prince. Ubba, his older brother, noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but inquire, "Did something happen to Sigurd, brother?" He assumed that Ivar might have witnessed their brother's misfortune or a rejection.
Ivar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort, brother."
Not long after both brothers had been joined by Floki - a member close to their family especially their father and seen as another father figure to ivar, for breakfast, the trio exchanged casual conversation, and Ivar's newfound happiness was hard to conceal. In the midst of a seemingly mundane conversation about the weather, Ivar couldn't contain himself any longer.
"I must share some news," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence. "Last night, I performed well in bed. Every round, to the very end."
Ubba, caught off guard, nearly choked on his mead. Floki raised an eyebrow, intrigued but nevertheless proud by the sudden announcement. "Is that so, Ivar?"
While Ubba struggled to contain his astonishment, he managed to offer a hearty congratulations to his brother, even if a tinge of bitterness lingered. The doubts that had plagued Ivar, the assumptions made by his brothers, had all been dispelled in the passionate hours he had shared with (Y/N).
It had been just a week since Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, but the news that swept through the village was enough to send everyone into celebration. (Y/N), still affectionately referred to as Freya by the villagers, was pregnant with the heir of Ivar, the prince of Kattegat.
Upon hearing the news, Ivar wasted no time in throwing a grand feast to celebrate this momentous occasion. The great hall was adorned with banners and torches, and the long tables were laden with the finest foods and meads. It was a joyous occasion, and the entire village turned out to celebrate the impending arrival of their future leader.
Throughout the festivities, Ivar's attentiveness to his wife was unmistakable. He was by (Y/N)'s side at every turn, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. If she desired a drink, he would fetch it for her or have a thrall pour it with haste. When she wanted more meat, he ensured her plate was overflowing with it. And when she complained of stiffness in her shoulders and back from the long hours of celebration, he was there to ease the tension, his strong hands working wonders on her weary muscles.
Everyone could see the happiness that (Y/N) brought into Ivar's life, and it was evident in every glance, every gesture, and every tender touch between them. Despite the brevity of their marriage, their connection was undeniable, and it had only grown stronger with the promise of a child.
As the night wore on, and the revelry continued, Ivar found himself in a state of contentment he had never known before. With (Y/N) by his side and the prospect of fatherhood on the horizon, he couldn't help but look to the future with hope and excitement. The people of Kattegat watched their prince with admiration, knowing that he was not only a formidable leader but also a devoted husband, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his heir.
The months had went by swiftly and soon the long-awaited day had arrived. The air in the room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as (Y/N) prepared to give birth to Ivar's heir. The labor had been long and exhausting, pushing (Y/N) to her limits, but she persevered with unwavering strength and determination. Ivar stood by her side, providing constant support and encouragement, never leaving her sight.
As the hours turned into eternity, the cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwife worked diligently, guiding (Y/N) through each contraction, offering words of comfort and reassurance. By her side, Ivar held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the strain etched upon her features but admired her resilience in the face of such intense pain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the moment arrived. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and tears of relief streamed down (Y/N)'s face. Ivar's heart swelled with joy as he looked upon the tiny face of his firstborn son. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if the gods themselves had blessed this moment.
"I am truly blessed by the gods," Ivar whispered, his voice filled with awe. "For I have a wife, the fairest of them all - the goddess Freya herself - in my arms, with my firstborn son, an heir. I never thought I would find such happiness, but I am grateful that I have."
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand to touch Ivar's cheek, her touch filled with tenderness and gratitude. "And I am blessed to have you, my dearest Ivar," she whispered. "You have given me strength and love beyond measure."
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, overshadowed by the miracle of new life. Ivar and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the precious gift they had been given.
The midwife gently placed the newborn in (Y/N)'s arms, and Ivar marveled at the sight. His heir, his legacy, lay peacefully in his mother's embrace. There was a newfound sense of purpose and responsibility that settled upon Ivar's broad shoulders.
As he looked upon his wife and son, Ivar knew that he would protect and cherish them with all his might. He, a warrior feared by many, had found his greatest joy in the form of his family. With a heart filled with love and gratitude, Ivar vowed to be the father his son deserved, and not the man his own father had been.
Six years had passed since the day Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, and in that time, Ivar had become a force to be reckoned with. At the age of twenty-four, he had accomplished more than he had ever dreamed of. He had conquered lands, brought riches to Kattegat, and solidified his reputation as a formidable leader.
But it wasn't just his conquests that defined his success; it was the growing family he had built with (Y/N) by his side. Their firstborn, Arvid, had been a source of immense pride for Ivar, carrying the weight of being the heir to the throne. Following Arvid, twin boys named Audun and Axel had joined their family.
Their blessings continued with the birth of a daughter, Astride, who brought a new kind of joy into their lives. And after Astride, more sons had followed: Ase, Bodil, Dane, Ebbe, Eir, and Inge, each one a testament to the love and connection between Ivar and (Y/N).
Now, with the passage of time, the couple found themselves on the brink of another exciting chapter in their lives. (Y/N) was expecting once more, and this time, they had received the news that they were to welcome another set of twins into their growing family.
The prospect of more children filled Ivar with a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had not only achieved great success in his endeavors but had also created a legacy that would continue to shape the future of Kattegat for generations to come. With (Y/N) by his side, he looked forward to the challenges and joys that lay ahead, knowing that their love and the family they had built together were the greatest treasures of all.
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miss-madness67 · 6 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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starogeorgina · 9 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.01
“Ivar!”
“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”
“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”
“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”
“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.
Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.
You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”
“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”
Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.
“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”
“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”
“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”
Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.
It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.
You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.
It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.
Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.
“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.
You shrug.
“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”
Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”
Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”
“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”
“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”
A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”
Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.
“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.
Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.
“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”
“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”
His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”
“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”
“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”
You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”
Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.
“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.
Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”
Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”
Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”
He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.
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milkb0nny · 6 months
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Burgundy Leaves
Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader
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Comfortember Day 3: Leaves Changing
Summary: You and your little sister decided to take a stroll through the forest to collect the colorful leaves of autumn. While you both ate some freshly made buns and played catch, you accidentally bumped into Ivar.
Note: Okay... I'm fangirling. This one kinda hit me a little harder than it should. It's so wholesome.
Warnings: none
word count: 999
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With the arrival of the cooler season autumn, the leaves slowly turned from a bright green to a sensation of colors. The dense, towering trees of the forest beckoned, their leaves glowing with the fiery hues of autumn. It was a world of vibrant reds, golds and oranges - a symphony of colors that enchanted your senses. This was the kind of season where you felt most alive, and the beauty of the forest had always been your refuge.
Whenever the temperatures dropped the people in Kattegat knew to prepare for winter, equipping themselves with wood, blankets and a food storage. Although the colder season might not be everyone’s favorite, you quite liked it. You had a younger sister, named Ingrid, who also waited for autumn every single year. Therefore, the day you noticed the significant change in the leaves, you took her by her hand and dragged her into the town of Kattegat. Before you made your way into the forest, you stopped by a small stall. You knew the owner of the shop quite well because you had been buying freshly baked buns every other day. After putting the still steaming baking goods in your picnic basket, you and your sibling started your journey.
While you entered the nearby forest, the sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the forest floor. The rustle of leaves beneath your feet and the chorus provided a soothing function.
Your sister ran free, catching falling leaves, collecting the most beautiful artworks by nature and eating snacks out of the picnic basket here and there. A bright smile covered your lips while you watched Ingrid being a happy child.
“Can we play catch, y/n?” She asked you, her eyes flickering in hope.
You answered, “Sure, I’ll count to ten and then I’ll come get you!”
The loud giggles emerged from your younger sister, as her feet made their way through the familiar collection of trees. Shortly after you reached the number ten, you began to run after her.
Suddenly, you trip over a thick branch as you ran around the corner. Though, your lovable face did not hit the hard ground.
With a soft gasp, you stumbled backward as you made contact with Ivar's firm, armored chest. The surprise was mirrored in his cobalt blue eyes as you looked up, a sudden rush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks.
“Y/n!” Ingrid screamed, speeding back to you immediately. “Did you hurt yourself?”
You shook your head, smiling awkwardly.
“I'm so sorry," you stammered, glancing at the tall man, your voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't see you coming. Are you alright, Ivar?"
You felt his icy eyes inspecting every single inch of you, thus made you flush. In all secrecy you owned a soft spot for Ivar. Of course you weren’t in a very deep relationship, but from time to time you helped him, accompanied him or cooked him dinner, whenever he didn’t want to eat with his own family.
“It appears we were both lost in our own little worlds," he replied, smiling softly.
Your sister, confused about the romantic tension between the both of you, distracted herself with collecting more leaves. Ivar studied Ingrid for a moment, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his lips.
“You are collecting leaves? A simple yet beautiful pursuit." Ivar grinned at your sister, who picked out a beautiful red maple leaf. She turned around and gifted it to Ivar, expressing her appreciation. Your heart warmed up at that sight, since he was so gentle with your little sister.
Ingrid’s high voice chimed in with enthusiasm, "Would you like to join us, Ivar? I’ll make you your own crown out of red leaves!"
Ivar, usually not so fond of children, appreciated your little sister a lot. She was honest and kind, unlike many other kids who lived in Kattegat. On top of that, the Viking loved one particular person who was linked to Ingrid - you.
Ivar considered the offer for a moment before a playful glint entered his eyes.
"Very well, little Lady. I shall accompany you,” he accepted, watching her happily run off to guide Ivar and you.
As you continued to explore the forest together, you couldn't help but be captivated by Ivar's presence. Since he had learned how to walk with his crutches, his tall body always surprised you. You liked him, crawling or walking, it didn’t matter to you.
You and Ingrid led the way to the most unique spots in the forest, where the trees cast long and the colors of autumn were most resplendent. Ingrid collected leaves of rich burgundy, while you gathered those of gold and orange. Ivar watched the scene with a hint of awe in his eyes. Ivar's gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The connection between you deepened - you felt like you were the only two souls in the whole forest. Ingrid, ever the perceptive one, excused herself to give the two of you some privacy.
Ivar leaned closer, his presence filling your senses as he whispered, "Y/n, there’s something immaculate about you. I hope we won’t grow apart."
Red hues rushed over your cheeks, your fingers fidgeted with the fur of your coat and you unconsciously bit the skin of your bottom lip while you let his words swallow you whole. You barely could form a sentence under the embarrassment.
“Ivar, no. I apologize, I mean, I’ll always accompany you. Wherever you go,” you stuttered slightly, staring into the blue, vibrant eyes which formed a perfect contrast with the orange hues of autumn. As the forest whispered its melody and the leaves rustled, Ivar closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours, igniting passion that had smoldered beneath the surface.
A kiss you never forgot - your first one under the rain of changing leaves.
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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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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)
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Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!
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Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.
She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.
When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.
“We can still fight dear”
“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”
“What if they kill you?”
“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”
Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.
Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.
“Promise me you will come back to me”
“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”
-
(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.
(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.
“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”
“Who are you?”
“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”
The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.
“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”
The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.
“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”
Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.
To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.
“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”
“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”
Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.
Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.
(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.
“Lead the way, my lord”
She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.
“Welcome to Kattegat princess”
He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.
(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.
Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.
Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.
“So what brings you here princess?”
“War I am afraid”
“War?”
“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”
“So you ran?”
“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”
Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.
“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”
“How did you respond?”
“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”
“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”
“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”
“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”
“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”
“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”
“Definitely”
“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”
She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.
Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.
“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”
He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?
There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.
“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”
“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”
“Ride?”
“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”
“You mean I go up in that?”
“Hey, she is a lady”
Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.
As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.
“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”
“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”
“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”
“She sounds like a lovely woman”
“She was”
(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.
Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.
“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”
“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”
They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.
“This feels strange”
“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”
“Me neither”
She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.
With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.
“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”
“What?”
“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”
Requests are open!
951 notes · View notes
fandomnsfw · 1 year
Text
I Can Be Your Biggest Fan - Ivar the Boneless x Reader
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(Ignore that unfaithful little witch who deserved the death she got! But his face is just so cute right here...At least the gods approve of sexual desires) 😂🤣
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader
Promt: My obsession with Ivar and his poor underloved self. Poor baby just need love and someone who could actually get his dick hard 🥺
You are a slave and have been most of your life but because of this you got the chance to meet the most handsome man you’d ever seen...cripple or not.
Warning: SMUT! Dirty Ivar loving smut! Foul language because I swear more than a sailor.
ENJOY!!!
********
“Her.” You felt your body freeze as the queen stopped in front of you. You had no idea how this queen would be with you but once she had picked you had to follow her either way. You kept quiet as you looked around the village. They hadn’t told you what your work would be but you hopes it wasn’t sex. You’d managed to save yourself so far.
The queen took her place on the throne before assessing you thoroughly. She smiled softly at you and for some reason you felt a sense of peace. Hopefully she was a fair mistress.
“What is your name girl?” She asked curiously her face keeping its smile.
“My name is Y/N, my Queen.” You spoke clearly if there was something you had learnt over the years is that people with respect you more if you speak confidently even if you’re a slave.
“You will be my personal help. You will serve my family dinner, help me bathe, help with grandchildren once I have some.” She informed confidently her wise smile still on her face.
“It would be my honour my Queen.” You gave her a grin letting her know you were more than happy with the job choice.
“Okay, well the cook has food ready so if you could get everything ready that would be good.” She chuckled before shooing you away to set the table.
You were fast getting it done so the queen gave you a happy grin as she sat at the table and waited for her sons. Eventually 3 boys walked into the hall, laughing at something. You stood next to the queen with your hands behind your back.
Then he came in. The most beautiful man you’d ever seen dragging himself around on his hands. That must’ve taken a lot of muscle to do that everyday. Yet he looked like he could take on his brothers with ease.
“This is Ubbe my first born.” The queen pointed to her elder son. He was handsome he had similar eyes to his cripple brother but for some reason they weren’t as captivating.
“This is Hvitserk my second son.” She pointed to the son next to Ubbe and he gave you a cheeky grin.
“That is my third son Sigurd.” She pointed to the opposite side of the table at the strawberry blonde man who looked you up and down with a smirk and it made your stomach churn.
“And my youngest son Ivar.” She cupped her youngest face with affection before looking up to you. He looked up at you with a curious gaze but didn’t say anything.
“This is Y/N my new slave. You are not to touch her without her permission.” The queen glared at all her sons except Ivar.
“You know maybe you should worry about Ivar not us.” Sigurd snickered as Ivar shot him a glare.
“The only one who made me feel uncomfortable with their eyes was you master Sigurd.” You mumbled your anger surfacing. Why did you say that? You should’ve kept your mouth closed but before you could apologise the queen started laughing a long with Ubbe and Hvitserk.
“I like her mother.” Ivar chuckled as he stared up at you in wonder. You met his ocean blue eyes with a sweet smile and he shot you a charming smile that made your heart melt. You felt your cheeks flush so you tried to avoid his eyes, yet you couldn’t stop from looking up only to see he’d yet to remove his eyes from you.
Unlike when Sigurd did this it felt exciting when Ivar did it. It was flattering you thought to yourself. The queen seemed to notice the flirting eyes you were sending each other but chose not to say a word until later on in the night.
………
“What do you think of my sons Y/N?” The queen asked mischievously as the rest her arms on the side of the tub, watching you closely.
“They are good reliable men.” You responded awkwardly as you got her night clothes ready.
“What about Ivar?” She asked quietly trying to his her smirk behind the tubs edge.
“I-Ivar is just as reliable as his brothers if not more.” You muttered quietly as you held out a wash cloth for her.
“Who is the most handsome of my sons?” She teased as she began washing herself.
“Ivar.” You wish you’d at least paused before answering but you blurted out his name so fast it actually visibly shocked the queen.
“Why not ask to lay with him?” She giggled playfully it made you giggle too despite being a queen she was quite playful when she wanted to be.
“Because I am a slave and I have no right to ask a prince and son of Ragnar to lay with someone like me.” You laughed bitterly before giving her a small smile silently asking to move on from that topic.
…….
You were pouring the queen a drink when Ivar appeared at the door, dragging himself straight to the seat near the fire. You finished pouring the queen a drink before walking over to Ivar with a cup. You passed the cup to him with a smile before filling it up in silence.
He tried to keep a straight face but you could see he was trying to not smile. He suddenly patted the spot next to him signalling for you to sit with him. You sat down with no hesitation, placing your hands on your lap as you waited for him to ask or request whatever he was going to.
“I have never been with a woman. I don’t even know if I can.” He said so quiet you thought you’d misheard but you knew you hadn’t. This handsome and desirable Viking is a virgin.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I am thankfully still a virgin. I’ve been lucky in having mostly female mistresses.” You giggled softly as you moved a little closer to him.
“Would you have sex with me?” Ivar asked awkwardly looking away with a blush.
“I would really like to, yes.” You blushed but continued watching him. His eyes widened and he looked at you in amazement as if he was shocked by your answer.
“I thought you were most handsome of your brothers before you asked me. I even told your mother yesterday.” You mumbled shyly as you moved your hand closer to his on the seat.
“Really?” He asked with raised brows.
“Yes…c-can I kiss you?” You stutter not sure if casual affection would be okay. You were not his wife or his lover so you really had no right.
He nodded gently before turning towards you a little more. You leant up and placed a soft kiss on his lips your hands still resting on the bench. His right hand came up to cup your cheek softly as he kissed you so sweetly, it made you melt.
“You said no forcing the slave to do intimate shit!” You heard a voice shout behind Ivar. Ivar released you immediately like he’s done something wrong but you stood up angrily and you couldn’t stop your stupid mouth.
“This was completely consensual! I’m the one that asked to kiss him! Oh wait how about proof!” You shouted before straddling Ivar making sure not to hurt his legs in the process before kissing him roughly.
He gripped your waist tightly as he kissed you back, his tongue meeting yours in a battle for dominance. You let out a little moan when he bit your bottom lip softly before finally pulling away.
“Why would you want to when you could’ve had any one of us?” Sigurd asked in utter confusion.
“Do you even understand how much strength he has to drag himself round all day? While his bones break over and over? He is the strongest and the most handsome out of all of you and I would gladly pledge my undying loyalty to him not any of you. Sorry master Sigurd.” You huffed before turning to Ivar with a shy smile as you tried to climb off his lap but he held you there with a grin, his arms wrapping around you tightly.
You giggled and snuggled into him wrapping your legs around his waist so you were more comfortable. The queen was watching the entire situation in humour and relief that someone finally realised how unique and strong her youngest son is.
........
Later that night at dinner you sat in Ivar’s lap while he ate and fed you little bits. He was very sweet to you and it made your heart ache to be more than his slave. If only you could be his wife.
“Will you be joining me in my room tonight my sweet?” Ivar whispered in your ear playfully earning a giggled from you. You gave him a happy nod before he picked a little meat off the bone and holding out to you. You took the meat from his fingers before licking his finger seductively.
He bit his own bottom lip as he watched your tongue like he was hypnotised by you. You gave him a cheeky smile before placing a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Can you two save it for the bedroom?” Sigurd hissed as he slammed down his cup onto the table.
“Leave them be Sigurd I’m happy to see Ivar happy.” The queen scolded with a glare before she turned to her side to look at you and Ivar with a soft smile.
You roles your eyes to Ivar making him laugh before placing an amused kiss on your lips. You gave him an ecstatic smile at his proud face. You curled up against him shyly, but he happily wrapped his arm around you tightly using his other one to stroke your hair sweetly.
“Why don’t you go to my room and I’ll be in soon, hmm?” He muttered against your hair.
You gave a nod before standing up and making your way to Ivar’s room. You sat on his bed and waited patiently for him to drag himself into the room. It wasn’t much time before Ivar dragged himself into the room with no struggle. He climbed into the bed before turning to you to talk.
“Come here sweetheart.” He groaned as he dragged himself into the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard.
You crawled to him slowly until you were in his lap. He ran his hand from your thighs up to your rib cage so swiftly it made you gasp. You gripped his shirt tugging at it letting him know you wanted it gone. You quickly pulled the shirt off him after he gave you a nod and you were practically drooling.
“See something you like Y/N?” He chuckled deeply as he laid back observing your blush as his hands rested just beneath your breast.
“Touch me please Master.” You begged shamelessly.
“Call me Ivar my sweet.” He whispered as he sat up pressing his bare chest against your clothes one. You sat back enough to rip your entire dress off throwing it across the room leaving you completely naked.
He observed you for a few seconds with hungry eyes before bringing you into a searing kiss. His tongue dominated yours in seconds and you let him because giving him control was the least you could do for this strong man.
“Ivar…” You moaned against his lips as you took a break from kissing. Your hand trailed down his chest and suddenly his hand grabbed your wrist with a worried glance.
“I’m not sure if I can…” He muttered nervously but you gave him a sweet smile.
“You can. I promise you just have to want to fuck me enough.” You whispered seductively into his ear as you grind your wet pussy against his clothed crotch.
“Shit well that should be easy enough.” He groaned against your neck before he lay you down. His muscles bulged as he did making you whimper at the sight.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your naked breast before kissing his way to your nipple, catching it in his mouth and nipping on it earning a moan from you.
His hand traveled downwards towards your core and as soon as his fingers touched you, you let out a needy little whimper earning a groan from the man hovering above you with just one arm supporting him. When you hands tracked down his chest he didn’t stop you this time though he did tense up.
When you reached his pants you felt the outline of his very much working dick and letting out a moan at how big he was. Would that even fit? You didn’t care you wanted him. He looked down in pleasure as you rubbed his erection gently.
“You’re so big.” You whispered in pleasure as his finger rubbed circles over your clit so gently it was driving you mad. You pulled at the lace in his pants undoing it and pulling his stuff member out of his trousers. Ivar’s eyes widened slightly before he pulled you in for messy passionate kiss.
As his tongue fought against yours he pushed two fingers into you, curling them slightly. His hands were rough but they felt good either way. You felt yourself getting close as your moans got louder.
“Ivar m’gonna cum.” You arches your back pressed your chest to his as you thrust against his fingers. He gave you a smirk before moving his fingers faster as he used his thumb to put pressure on your clit.
“Cum for me my love.” At the affectionate nickname you came all over his fingers , your body shaking violently as you came down from your orgasm.
“Fuck me…please?” You begged desperately spreading your legs further so he could come closer.
When his tip brushed against your wets folds you both let out groans of want. His eyes were staring straight into yours as he caressed your cheek lovingly. You nuzzled into his hand kissing his palm lightly before looking at him.
“Ready sweetheart?” He asked gently before giving you a chaste kiss. You gave him a nod and he slowly pushed his tip into you with a breathless gasp. He kept pushing into you slowly, your nails digging into his skin on his back as he stretched you in a way your own finger never could.
When he reached your barrier he stopped to give you a slow sensual kiss as he pushed past it with a sudden firm thrust. You cried into his mouth as he stopped kissing away the tears that escaped your eyes.
After a minute or so you thrust your hips up experimentally, to see if it still hurt but instead of pain you just felt pleasure. You thrust you hips up again more forcefully and Ivar took the hint and began thrusting into you at a slow yet deep pace that had you begging for more.
He smirked down at you and he kept up with the agonising pace not saying a word as he watch you writhe underneath him. You were growing angry and before you could rethink you actions you rolled both of you over so you were on top.
Without a word you began lifting up and slamming down on him at the fast pace you wanted. Ivar let out an almost animalistic growl as he clutched you hips as took control. You felt your pussy clench around him as your second orgasm started coiling in your stomach. He must’ve felt it because he started rubbing circles on your clit and you bounced on his cock taking what you want from him.
“Are you going to cum all over my cock, my love?” He growled his nails digging into your naked ass as he helped you bounce up and down. That’s all it took to push you over the edge, his sickly sweet yet sadistic voice whispering dirty things.
“Y-Yes! Oh Ivar!” You screamed riding out your orgasm happy before collapsing on top of him.
He flipped you both over again and started pounding into you mercilessly. He was like an out of control animal and you loved it. You cling to the furs below you try to hold onto anything as you try to ground yourself.
“Oh gods your so big! Feel so full…” You moaned you voice was so desperate like you were addicted to him. His grunts and groans had you getting riled up all over again the feeling was different though it was stronger because you were over sensitive from recently cunning twice.
“Yes! Oh g-gods…Think m’gonna cum again!” You screamed as you felt your entire body start shaking, the pressure building more and more.
“Me too love…fuck.” He groaned as he thrust faster into you as his hand came down to brush across your clit in a fast brushing motion. And sudden your vision went white. You came so hard you felt liquid gushing out of you and Ivar had stopped his thrusting and pulled back to watch as you just kept shaking.
“Shit that was sexy...”he growled as he started thrusting even harder than before.
“M’Gonna fill you up my love.” He grumbled as his thrust became erratic and untimed.
You lay there still twitching as he used your pussy to finish himself off. As you felt the hot spurts hit your walls you moaned it made you feel full and warm. Ivar collapsed on top of you panting, his skin sticking to yours due to the damp skin.
You brought your arms up, wrapping them around him stroking his hair gently as you bother enjoyed your afterglow. He eventually sat up with a type of smile you had never seen on him, but it’s made your heart flutter.
“I’m glad I’m the first man to see you like that.” He mumbled shyly as his eyes flicked around to avoid yours.
“I am also glad, that no woman has had the pleasure of you as well. I came 3 times.” You giggled grinding down on his cock that was still inside you.
“Yes that last one was interesting. Does that normally happen?” Ivar asked with sudden interest his eyes quickly meeting yours.
“No that’s never happened when I’ve touched myself.” You answered honestly though a blush still made it’s way to your cheeks.
“I wanna do it again.” He muttered with a semi evil smirk before he thrust inside you again.
This was going to be a long night, you thought to yourself with a giggle.
……
The next morning you walked into the great hall right next to Ivar as you laughed and teased each other. As you got to the throne you tried to keep you face straight and curtsy politely but Ivar kept looking up at you with a childish grin and it was hard not to laugh.
“I see you two are getting on.” The queen chuckled as she observed you both.
“Master Ivar is treating me with much more respect than I probably deserve my queen.” You answered with a grateful smile to Ivar who just frowned.
“I want her to be a free woman.” Ivar declared with a glare making sure his mother knows he’s serious.
“W-What?! Ivar n-no the queen doesn’t ha-”
“Okay.” The queen interrupted you with a grin.
A smile spread across Ivar’s faces as your eyes just widened. You were free, just like that. You couldn’t believe it. This felt like a dream to you, you looked down at Ivar before your legs decidedly gave out causing you to fall down right next to him. He sat up and pulled you into his arms as tears fell from your eyes. You cuddled into his chest clutching onto him like he was your life line.
“Thank you!” You sobbed over and over again into his chest.
He stroked your hair cradling you in his arms, like you were the most precious jewel in the world. You looked up at him drying your eyes with a shy smile. He matched your smile as he caressed your cheek sweetly.
“I would also like to ask if you would like to be my wife?” He whispered down to you with a soft gaze. Your eyes widened once again, he wanted a boring ex slave to be his wife?
“Me? I am not worthy of you…a-and you barely know me…Why?” You asked so quietly you weren’t sure he even heard you until he spoke up.
“You are more than worthy my love. You have shown me I can be a normal man despite my crippled legs. I know that you would never betray me and I know that I wish for you to be my wife.” He stated gently his eyes shining with affections and in that moment you realised this man was a gift from the gods and you would happily marry him.
“Yes I will marry you.” You giggled happily before pressing a kiss to his lips.
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underscorewriting · 1 year
Text
Taking Care…
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader
Warnings: none, maybe a tiny bit of angst?
Words: 844
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A comfortable silence surrounded them as they watched the fire burn. Her fingers softly combing through his dark hair, making his eyes closed in satisfaction. Chuckling softly she watched him, watching how his lashes barely brushed his cheeks, how his mouth held the smallest smile, barely visible but still there. A low disproving hum escaped him as she stopped brushing through his, letting her hand just rest on top of his hair, feeling for any remaining braids she couldn't see in the light.
Opening one eye, he shot her a glare making her try to hide her giggle, placing one hand over his eyes, shushing him. Smiling softly he leaned back into her, letting her continue her work. Humming a soft tune she concentrated back on his hair, making sure it wasn't knotted anymore, before rinsing it with water again, watching the last of blood wash out of it. Biting her lip in worry of it being his own, she again thread her fingers through his hair, carefully feeling for any sign of a wound.
Softly taking her hand that was covering his eyes he brought it down to his mouth, kissing her palm lovingly, calming her nerves slightly making her sigh in relief. She was used to treating his wounds, but the ones on his head still worried her the most, not knowing what it could cause to the parts she didn't see. Still placing soft, featherly kisses on her palm and each of her finger tips, the young man couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, leaning into her touch, letting her take care of him.
They both barely said a word when he came back, just needing to feel each other close. Needing to be in the safe haven they created with one another. Tugging on his hair, she grinned down at him with a glimmer of mischievous in her eyes as his own fluttered open to find hers, his heart melting at the sight in front of him. His lover looking down at him with the most truest admiration, her lips pulled into a grin as she tugged on his hair to get his attention, not wanting to break the oh so comforting silence.
Raising an eyebrow he felt his own lips pull into a small smile. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in their as she made her way to his lips. Leaving tingles in their wakening, making the young king shiver slightly under her touch. As her lips finally reached his, he couldn't contain himself as he cupped the back of her neck, pulling he closer, deepening the kiss. Soft gasps slipped out of her mouth making him catch them with the kiss, smirking softly.
With heaving chests, Ivar let his hand slip onto her cheek, caressing the skin softly, making her smile tenderly at him. Her eyes held love. The love he never thought he'd receive. The love he knew was shining even brighter in his own eyes when he looked at her.
"I was so scared, Ivar." Her hand softly playing with his hair, not having the strength to find his eyes anymore. Showing weakness was something so fragile, they both still weren't sure wether it was alright for them to be so open about their fears. Ivars eyes softened as he heaved himself into the position opposite her, taking her hands. "Whatever for?" Worry settled on his features as her eyes welled with tears. Shaking her head she realized how hideous her fear was. He was Ivar the boneless, nothing could or would be able to hurt him. He was protected by the gods.
But as the months went on her fear started to settle in, more reason flooded her mind. What if the gods suddenly stopped protecting him, making him vincible, easier to hurt. More months passed and the fear was causing her many sleepless nights, making her visit the seer almost daily, slowly starting to obsess over her husbands wellbeing. Ivar was fragile, he wouldn't admit it but he was and she knew it. The whites in his eyes turning blue, his bones breaking, being her biggest fear.
A small tear slipped down her as she turned her head away from him. "You need someone strong, I shouldn't worry." Chuckling softly he pulled her onto his lap, being careful enough not to put too much weight on his legs. “What I need is for my wife to worry about me when I’m gone for battle.” His fingers now drawing small shapes softly on the outside of her thighs. A small smile now finds its way onto her face as she nuzzled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent, calming herself.
Smiling to himself Ivar began running his hair through her tangled hair, an evidence that she, again, was spending more time taking care of him and his needs than tending to her own. Placing a featherly kiss onto the top of her hair, he hushed her quietly, stopping her thoughts from torturing her.
411 notes · View notes
How would Vikings react to Ivar being remembered?
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summary: it's in the title :)
notes: no warnings except for maybe mentions of death
tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy @esme-viridian (hmu to be added/removed!)
masterlist | based on this request
Ragnar
Pretends he always knew (eugh he’s such a bitch ong)
Nooo I would never set my son out in the wild… meeee? No wayyy…
He takes credit for it for his ‘great parenting’ and ‘legend genetics’
If Ivar had any legend genetics, they came from aslaug
Aslaug
Proudest mom out there, acts like a soccer/pta mom when she hears
Aslaug actually always knew
She quotes her prophetic dreams from like, 853 AD?
“I knew since I was five years old.” (truth)
Lagertha
Okay? Who cares? What about Bjorn?
Totally not pissed that he may be more famous than she is (lie)
Defo sulks about it to torvi and then kills someone important to expand her own legacy
She’s in the fame biz
Bjorn
Bro throws a toddler tantrum
He will literally stomp the ground
“That’s not fair, I discovered the Mediterranean!!” (he says that in the stupid tone he gets in the later seasons)
So so bitter about it (he deserves that)
Ubbe
Ubbe’s smoking weed in America with Floki
He does not care
“That’s just bad taste from people from the future. Me personally? I’d admire the person who found a continent. Idk, that’s just me though.”
Gets over it the fastest
Literally just thinks that it’s so dumb of modern people bc Ivar is a silly little guy with anger issues
Hvitserk
Similar reaction to Ubbe, except he doesn’t have to get over anything
Just kinda shrugs, he’s too busy worrying about his own legacy
What’s he in the history books for? His cuisine skills?
Yeah, bro’s kinda busy managing his own shit and trying to stay alive
Sigurd
Don’t tell him
For your own safety
Will kill you and then himself
Ivar
Don’t tell him either
Never lets anyone hear the end of it
So so so annoying for a silly little guy
He just loves and hates himself so much that, at the same time, he so needs to hear this and also never, ever hear this ever at all
Floki
Floki is the same as Aslaug, he KNEW
Also, he takes credit for raising ivar and being a father figure (fair enough)
He’s a teeny tiny bit sad that ivar was friends (in a weird homosexual way) with Alfred though (kind of, and this only applies if we’re talking about tv show Vikings)
Honestly, Floki would be such a good source to add to the material we have of ivar
Ecbert
So mad he didn’t have a bigger impact on ivar
Also so mad that all the kids around him have such big legacies (Alfred, ivar) but not him??
He wants to get mentioned!! Footnotes aren’t enough!! He needs to be the main character, always.
Gets sad drunk over it way too long
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aikaterini-drag · 9 months
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Eternal bros 🩵 Harald and Leif, the dynamic duo that makes Vikings: Valhalla an epic saga of friendship and showcases the bonds that can be forged even amidst the chaos of war.
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bxwitched · 10 months
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Captive - Part 4
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Warnings: Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk. Noncon / dubcon, slavery, manipulation, sexual content, violence, descriptions of wounds and blood.
Character Pairing: King!Ivar the Boneless x Slave!Reader
Summary: You find yourself a captive of Ivar the Boneless.
Word Count: 2.2K
A/N: I finally found the inspiration to continue this fic after a whole year. Comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.
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You stirred as cold fingertips traced along your leg, a large callused hand smoothing shapes over soft the flesh, waking you from your dream. You kicked out at the explorative touch, making a sound of displeasure as Ivar caught your ankle in his firm grip and snickered in amusement.
"It is time to get up, Valkyrie." You groaned, burrowing your face further into the furs.
"Leave me be, King. Let me sleep." He huffed at you from his perch at the end of the bed and you gasped in surprise as he leaned forward and snatched your leg from beneath the blankets, jostling you as he hitched it over his broad shoulder. His icy eyes locked with yours as he pressed a slow kiss to the side of your knee.
You tried to ignore the heat simmering in your belly as his lips brushed against the sensitive flesh, leaving fire in their wake. His intense gaze bore down into you and flashes of the night before came rushing back; the way that Ivar had looked at you as you had taken control of him and used him for your pleasure.
You had behaved no better than a common whore, desperate for the gratification that his body could offer and you felt your cheeks heat at the memory, your stomach twisting into knots.
You leaned back on your elbows and studied Ivar, he was already dressed in his light armour; with his axe fixed to his hip, his knives stowed at his waist, and metal braces in place on his legs. You didn't have time to wonder what his plans for the day were before he brought you out of your thoughts, his breath tickling your soft skin as he spoke.
"I thought that you would be eager to see your little mouse, Valkyrie. But if you would rather remain in bed-" His voice was teasing and you bolted upright, wrenching your leg back from his grip as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious.
"You will allow it?" He nodded once, his bright eyes fixated on you.
"You have been good for me, haven't you? Torsten is waiting outside to escort you." You tried and failed to hide your excitement as you stood from the bed and rushed to get dressed. Ivar's lips tilted up at the corners and his eyes remained glued to your form as he watched you ready yourself for the day, beguiled by you.
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As you walked the streets of Kattegat you had quickly learned that Torsten was not a talkative man; he was tall and well-built with short hair, shorn at the sides and a dark beard. He was more of a mountain than a man, clearly battle hardened and you had no doubts that he was one of Ivar's finest warriors. 
You travelled in silence, trying to ignore the stares of the townspeople as you passed through the busy market, some offered you looks of pity, whilst others flashed you looks of distaste. You couldn't decipher the hushed words and low whispers that were spoken, but you imagined that it was gossip of the king's newest toy, his foreign concubine. 
You wondered how many there were before you and what words were spoken of them, whether they were also from Eire or from lands further afield. 
Torsten came to a stop when you neared a large barn and gestured you in ahead of him. You entered the dimly lit space hesitantly, mindful of the other thralls as they bustled around, readying for their tasks of the day.
You eyes flitted through the crowd of women, searching for the head of golden hair when a weight suddenly barrelled into you, taking your breath and nearly knocking you backwards as a smaller figure clung tightly to your waist.
Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.
"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, hiccuping as she tried to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.
"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and managed to steady her breathing once more.
She looked up at you with glassy eyes, deep emerald irises that she had inherited from her mother's side. 
"Come." You took her hand in yours and lead her away from the barn, down to the waterfront where it was quieter, calmer. You both walked in silence along the waters edge, taking in the warmth of the sun on your face and the sound of the waves as they lapped gently at the shore. Torsten followed behind,  giving you just enough distance to speak privately, a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior.
Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.
"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, trying to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.
"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and steadied her breathing.
She looked up at you with glassy eyes, a deep, rich emerald that she had inherited from her mother's side.
"Come." You took her hand and lead her away from the barn and down to the waterfront. You both walked along the waters edge, your shoes sinking slightly into the damp sand as Torsten followed behind you at a distance, giving you enough space speak privately. It was a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior but appreciated immensely. 
"Where did they take you?" Your heart wrenched at the concern and fear in her shaking voice.
"They took me to the king." Alva's face paled, her eyes widening further. She looked akin to a doe in the forest, startled by a waiting hunter in the trees.
"Ivar the boneless." Her fear was evident now, her eyes moving over your body franticly. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
"No Alva, I'm fine." Your stomach twists at that and you let out a deep sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly. She was six summers younger than you but she was naive for her age, fragile. She wasn't hardened like you, she was innocent and she couldn't begin to understand the complexities of your situation.
She was a lamb amongst wolves and you knew that you had to do everything you could to protect her, even if it meant being the king's whore.
"King Ivar has taken me as his and so long as I am good to him, useful to him, our safety is guaranteed here. We may be thralls here but we are alive Alva, and we are protected. That is all that matters." She chewed her lip nervously and her worried gaze dropped to the floor.
"I have heard things, whispers from the other girls.." You stopped and crouched down to her level, ignoring the cold water that seeped into the hem of your gown as you searched her face with questioning eyes.
"What things?"
"They talk about the king, they say that he is a great warrior, that he is favoured by the gods and has never lost a battle. But-"
"Go on, Alva." You insisted as she shifted her weight nervously.
"They say that because of his legs, he cannot please a woman. He has hurt slave girls and threatened to kill them if they speak of it. They talk of a woman called Margarette, they say he strangled her."
Your eyes lowered to the sand and you nodded your head solemnly, you would not be surprised by such things given your experience of Ivar's volatile nature. You returned to your full height and forced a small smile, one you hoped would reassure the young girl.
"Come along, let us enjoy the water a little longer."
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Torsten allowed you to spend a few hours with Alva, soaking up the warmth of the sun and the feel of the salty ocean breeze before telling you that it was time to return to the Hall.
Alva was unhappy to leave you and return to the thrall house but she finally relented when you reassured her that you'd be okay with a soft smile and promised that you would see her again soon.
You were almost back at the Hall when you heard your new moniker being called in the distance and turned to see Hvitserk making his way towards you.
"Valkyrie!" The man was completely different to Ivar, not only in his physical appearance but in his demeanour; whilst Ivar was impassive and unpredictable, Hvitserk was open and seemed to wear his emotions on his sleeve.
He grinned widely at you as he rested on the fence of the training ground, his hair mussed and cheeks red from sparring.
"I see my brother has finally let you spread your wings." You huffed at his jest and moved to rest against the fence beside him, watching as Ivar's men fought each other with vigour, the sharp clashes of steel and crashes of shields heavy in the air.
"They are fine warriors. Though not as fine as you I'm sure.." Hvitserk raised an eyebrow at your taunt, his grin widening as mischief danced behind his eyes.
"You told me that you were a fighter, Valkyrie. Perhaps I wish to see it for myself." You raised your chin slightly, your eyes narrowing in playful challenge.
"My father always believed that I possessed enough fury to rival that of a berserker, maybe we should test that." The blonde man's eyes flashed in delight and he held a hand out to you, helping you over the wooden fence and into the training arena, ignoring Torsten's protests and silencing the larger man with a raised hand.
"Hand me a sword, Ragnarsson." He passed you a short-sword, lighter than you had used before but well-balanced and finely made. Hvitserk opted for a larger sword, heavier and better matched for his larger frame.
"Don't worry, Valkyrie. I will go easy on you." You scoffed, watching as his grin widened and his eyes changed, the mossy green growing darker with his building battle-lust.
You watched his feet, anticipating his initial attack and dodged each skilful slash of his sword. You moved in time with him, keeping up with the prince despite your heavy dress weighing down your movements.
You grinned as you blocked several of the beserker's attempted hits. Hvitserk's expression was positively wild and the fight between you became more intense the more you challenged him.
He barely managed to block your attack to his torso and you grinned as he growled in irritation. You were so focused, until your name was shouted from the fence line.
Your head turned for no more than a second but it was enough time for Hvitserk to land a hit, successfully slicing a line of crimson across your forearm. You gasped as the flesh stung and you clutched at the wound as the blood began to seep from it, running down your skin and dripping into the dirt beneath your feet.
Hvitserk froze, his face dropping into one of remorse as he realised what he had done, then one of uneasiness when he noticed Ivar stalking towards you both with his men in tow. His face was stony but his sapphire eyes gave away his rage, they were practically glowing as he glared at both of you.
"What do you think you are doing, hm?" His voice was level, an unnerving contradiction to the storm brewing behind his eyes. He turned on Hvitserk then and the older Ragnarsson visibly tensed. "I suppose that this was your idea, brother?"
You were quick to speak up, stepping in front of Hvitserk to shield him from Ivar's wrath. Although he had been the one to challenge you to spar, you had been just as willing. He hadn't meant to injure you and you had enjoyed the rush of it, the freedom.
Despite being your master's kin Hvitserk had been civil to you during your time in Kattegat, amiable even. From what you had witnessed he seemed to be a decent man and you didn't feel that he deserved to be reprimanded for your poor choices.
"It's not his fault, my King. I challenged him to fight, if you are to punish anyone then it must be me."
"Is that so?" Ivar tilted his head at you with a raised brow and you nodded, his face said everything his words did not. This is not over.
He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth and nodded once, his jaw tensed.
"Very well, Torsten will take you back to our chambers." He dismissed the larger warrior with a wave of his hand and turned to face Hvitserk, fixing him with a false smile that left no room for argument. "Brother, you will go and fetch the healer. And the next time that you wish to fight? I suggest that you find a different opponent."
@wittysunflower​ @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @that-virgo-witch​ @helleiaiwritting @the-king-of-kattegat-ivar @nukyster-blog @ietss @belladaises @victoria-styles
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zapreportsblog · 8 months
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❝the shield maidens challenge❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test
✭ vikings masterlist
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The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.
It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.
But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.
As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.
"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."
Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"
A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."
The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.
For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.
And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.
She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."
A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."
(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."
"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."
Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.
"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.
And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."
Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."
Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."
His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."
A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.
"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."
Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."
With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.
As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.
The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.
Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.
"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."
A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."
And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.
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miss-madness67 · 1 year
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It Is You (Ivar The Boneless)
Ivar the Boneless drabble
Imagine you are the one that catches Ivar's eyes, not Freydis.
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The crowd is overly excited by the army’s return to Kattegat, they had finally avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had not taken long to recruit the great heathen army, and less to decimate the Saxons. Most of the hassle had been travel discrepancies and what to do after. Now with all that finally over, Vikings have a chance to celebrate victory. It is no surprise, then, when the great hall is completely packed with drunk people in the late hours of the night. The celebration of the great heathen army’s conquest is something to brag about, and Ivar the Boneless is doing precisely that.
You have never seen the Viking prince in person, considering that you are not a shieldmaiden, and could not go to avenge Ragnar. Also, you grew up in Ringerike, not Kattegat, thus you never encountered him during your childhood. You have heard the stories, though, not only the most recent ones about his victory against the Saxons, but also those speaking of his cruelty and quick temper. And so when you came to welcome your brother back from fighting in England, it was not in your plan to cross paths with Ivar the Boneless. However, once you entered the great hall, your destiny was entangled with his.
He is not the only man that stares at you more than he should, but his gaze is so intense that you can not shake it off. It burns through your skin like fire, stealing all of your attention from your brother’s words. When you look up, Ivar is already glancing your way. He does not smile or try to approach you like the rest of the men, he just stares.  His look is heated but not loaded with anger, it is something else. No one has ever gazed at you like that, it has such desire and amazement. It makes you feel like a goddess. So, while your brother is still talking, you leave his side to introduce yourself to the cruel prince. That is the first step that changes your life.
Tags: @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering
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starogeorgina · 7 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, oral sex
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.02
“Once we lure them into position, I’ll give you the signal, then you’ll light the bastards up—Ivar stop,” you laugh, feeling his hands roam over your body. “I’m trying to help you plan a war.”
“I’m aware.”
“It’s difficult to concentrate when you do that.”
“Do what?” Ivar smirks, kissing your neck. He continues to squeeze at your breasts over your dress. His two favourite things were fucking and fighting, so talking battle strategies was hard for im. Ivar begins kissing your neck, leaving purple marks as a way of reminding others that you are his. “I’m not doing anything you don’t like.”
You turn your head and kiss him. Your lips linger as your mind begins to race with a thousand thoughts. It hadn’t been long since you lost your baby, and you hadn’t been intimate since.
Ivar rubs his finger along your cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you say, kissing him again. “I want you, Ivar. I want you to do more things I like.”
He tilts his head to the side and gives you a small smile. Ivar smooths your hair out of your face, and the gaze in his eyes somehow brought you comfort; it was as if he was looking deep into your soul and knew what you were thinking. “I will not rush you, Drifa,” he says. “But I know something we can do, something we both like.”
Seeing the mischievous look on his face, you raise your brows and ask, “What's that?”
Ivar smirks in amusement as the sword in your hand rests at the top of his neck. He says, “You fight dirty; I’ve taught you well.”
You toss your sword to the side, pick up two axes, and hand one to Ivar. He told you that non-Viking armies didn’t see women as much of a threat; he wanted you to prove them all wrong. Ivar took great pride in coaching you in sword fighting, throwing spears, and aiming your bow and arrow.
“Perhaps one of my brothers will spar with you later.”
You pull a face and say, “Ubbe or Hvitserk. Last time I sparred with Sigurd, your mother was mad at me for hurting him.”
With a boyish smile on his face, Ivar says, “You knocked his front tooth out; it was a wonderful thing to witness.”
You’d always hated Sigurd and the way he treated Ivar and his mother. You think back to that day and how you and Sigurd got into a fight because he kept insulting your dead parents. At first, his brothers laughed until the first blood was drawn. You feel awful thinking about Hvitserk trying to separate you and accidentally backhanding him.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice Ivar talking to you until he places his hand on your waist. “What are you thinking about?"”
“The time I burst Hvitserk lip.”
“Hvitserk adores you.” Ivar throws his axe, which hits the mark on the tree. “So do Ubbe and Bjorn. As did my mother.” Ivar takes the other axe from your hand and repeats the action, hitting the mark perfectly again. “Sigurd is scared of you because he is weak and knows he cannot compete.”
“Have I told you recently how much I love you?”
Ivar blushes. “No, but I never tire of hearing it.”
You kiss him on the cheek before going to retrieve the axes so you can continue throwing them. You continue training until the sun begins to disappear behind the clouds and the sky quickly becomes dark as the weather changes quickly.
The rainfall is heavy, causing the mud to splash up onto Ivar’s face and neck while he dragged his body along the ground as you headed home. Seeing the pain in Ivar’s face, you suggest taking shelter from the rain underneath a large tree. You sink down beside Ivar and lean your head on his shoulder.
You sit in silence until Ivar lets out a deep breath and asks, “Why doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?”
“Being married to a cripple.”
You roll your eyes. Every time Ivar felt self-consciousness, he would question why anyone loved him. His insecurity became worse when his brother told him; nobody loved him, and everyone felt sorry for him. “I’ve told you to stop listening to Sigurd.”
“It’s true, though; I am a cripple. And my weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
“Your legs aren’t a weakness, Ivar. They are your greatest strength. People will always underestimate a cripple.”
Ivar opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off with a kiss. You brush your nose against his as you straddle his lap, careful not to put too much pressure on him. The feral look in Ivar’s eyes sparks something inside you; all you wanted was for him to devour you. “You are Ivar the boneless, the strongest and most violent man I’ve ever met.”
Ivar grips your jaw with a devilish glint in his eyes. “You think I’m violent?”
“I think you're the most bloodthirsty Viking to ever exist.”
“Stand up.”
Following his order, you stand up. Seeing Ivar lower his trousers so his cock can spring free, you pull up the bottom of your dress. He grins, clasping his hands around your thighs. Ivar brings you in closer so he can put his mouth on your aching core. You let out a moan when you fell his warm tongue swipe over your folds before turning his attention to your clit.
“Mmmm.. Ivar, just like that,” you encouraged, “please don’t stop!”
He sucks and flicks his tongue on your abused clit, speeding up his actions until you cum, legs shaking around his head. When you come down from your high, you kneel down and twirl your tongue over the head of Ivar’s hard cock before taking him full into your mouth. He uses one hand to grip your hair, while Ivar uses the other to pinch your nipple, as Drool dribbles down your chin while you bob your head. Tears roll down your cheeks as you gag, feeling his cock start to jolt in your mouth. Ivar tightens his grip as spurts of hot cum shoot down your throat.
He grunts, “Swallow all of it like a good wife.”
Sitting up, you wipe the saliva away with the back of your hand. Ivar shuffles to put his cock back into his trousers. You kiss the palm of Ivar’s hand when he cups your face. “We should get back; it’s almost time for supper, and we both need to bathe.”
You take another mouthful of ale as your eyes jump between the brothers sitting around the table. There was a weird atmosphere, and you were trying to figure out why. Ubbe and Ivar feasted, laughed, and drank ale while Hvitserk looked nervous. He kept glancing at Sigurd, who had been smirking most of the night. When you returned, you had bathed and changed into a clean dress, while Ivar remained in the same mud-covered clothes. The only reason his hands were free from dirt was because he washed your back and hair.
Sigurd suddenly burst out laughing, gaining the attention of his brothers. “Do you all remember when Margrethe said Ivar couldn’t pleasure a woman? Well, today I found out that’s not true.”
You and Ivar look at each other and ask, “What?”
“Me and Hvitserk were coming back from a hunt and saw-”
“I did not look,” Hvitserk says quickly, not letting his brother finish his sentence. You patted the back of his hand; although he was a menace at times, Hvitserk was respectful and would never deliberately watch such a thing.
“Enough,” Ubbe says. “We will hear no more of this.”
Sigurd ignores his elder brother and continues talking. “I’m just sharing that I’m happy for Ivar. At least it can finally put the rumors of Drifa carrying another man’s child to rest.”
“It was you who told others that!”
He shrugs. “I stand corrected; I can tell others I know Ivar gets hard because I caught you with his dick in your mouth.”
Ubbe and Hvitserk stare at him, unimpressed.
Tears of embarrassment swell in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You glance at your husband to see his reaction to his brother's taunting. Ivar peels the last bit of meat from the bones of his meal off with his teeth, then tosses the bare animal bone onto the table. “What kind of man talks about his brother's wife in that way?”
The amused smile drops from Sigurd’s face, “I’m—”
“I swear to the gods that if I ever hear you talk about my beautiful Drifa in such a way again, brother, you’ll leave me no other choice but to kill you.”
The room falls silent as Ivar’s threat lingers in the air. Sigurd looks to his brothers, but when neither of them say anything, he storms off, leaving the rest of you to enjoy the remainder of your night.
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jadelynlace · 2 months
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"All the Time"⎮ Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]
read more of Ink Drinker here.
Author's Note: Yeah, it's the super smutty piece I warned you all about. In hindsight, maybe it's not all that raunchy? I don't know. You can tell me. Also, fun fact! While I wrote this, my captain sat across the table from me, completely oblivious (he figured I was writing my care reports, and I was. Kinda). I literally have the best poker face.
Word Count: Just under 2,000 words (of porn)
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Conversation falls around you. In the cool air of the evening you’ve grown comfortable with your legs thrown over Ivar’s thighs, sitting at an angle as his hand hooks around your shoulder. Drowning out the words around you as you scroll on your phone to decompress your social battery, bombarded with videos from Hvitserk as he thinks that’s a successful way to use his energy during his over time shift. And, quite frankly, he’s right.
“But where are people finding the time?” A voice says. “I work a full time job, I go to the gym, and I’m trying to get a full 8 hours of sleep and cook for myself—where do people find the time to date? To even hook up?” The voice continues.
“Ivar and I fuck all the time,” You say, and you don’t even really realize that you said it out loud until Ivar’s hand is over your mouth.
“That’s really all the input you have for the conversation?” Another voice says. You’re quick to lick Ivar’s palm as he lets out an estranged noise, wiping your salvia on your back.
“I’d have more of an input if we were actually having a conversation,” You mutter back.
“Why on earth would you lick my fucking palm?” Ivar says, shooting you a look. You lean into his ear closely before speaking:
“You don’t seem to be too upset when I lick the other things you put near my mouth,” 
There’s a low rumble from Ivar’s chest as he registers what you’re saying and you smile.
“What can we use as an excuse to leave?” He whispers to you.
“The fact that I work in the morning?” You try and Ivar just nods at that.
You climb off of him, standing with a stretch and you feel eyes on you.
“Leaving already?” Someone whines.
“Well, as riveting as this conversation is regarding your ability to not adapt to being adult,  I do have to work in the morning. So I am going to get those 8 hours of sleep you keep talking about,” You say.
“Well then, why are you leaving, Ivar?” 
“Uh, because I don’t want to wake her up in the middle of the night when I come home from the bar?” Ivar answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing.
“You can spend the night with me!” Aiden teases. 
“You have one bed,” Ivar tells him. 
“Exactly,” Aiden smirks.
“Do you…do you want to spend the night with him?” You tease. 
“No, no I do not,”
“Alright, why don’t you kiss him goodbye then,” You add, patting Ivar’s chest and Ivar shakes his head.
Aiden offers him a kiss through the air, and a wave, but Ivar only flips him off, rounding the corner to leave. Not a second passes before Ivar turns back around, looking at Aiden and returning that kiss through the air. 
*
You’re all but tossed onto the bed, a quick display in both Ivar’s strength and his dominance has you landing suddenly against the pillows before her’s climbing over you. Wasting no time as he comes to cover your body with his, mouth seeking yours. 
“Oh, so you really weren’t that mad at my comment,” You try, seeing if it’ll fuel his fight. Ivar doesn’t say anything as his mouth travels past the shell of your ear, meeting he nape of your neck and his teeth nip at your flesh. “Because revealing to them that we have “sex all the time” was not necessarily a lie,”
“Stop,” Ivar says suddenly, his blue eyes coming to catch yours. They flash with a quick display of anger, momentarily muting your brain and making you refocus on him. And how he’s in charge right now. 
“Stopping,” You peep back. 
“Good girl,” Ivar groans, mouth catching yours for a kiss that is all tongue. He would smile to himself at how well he knows you, but his lips are occupied. 
The last articles of his clothing are flung across the room as Ivar moves again, pushing his knee to divide your legs as they instinctively part for him. You can feel his hardness against your cunt throbbing, as Ivar’s hands come on each side of your head, pressing his weight through them while you both catch your breath. Hungry eyes trace you, and the wisps of the ends of his hair tickle your chest as his head tips to watch the space where you two are about to be connected. 
A low grumbles comes from Ivar’s chest as your hand reaches down, spreading your lips for him to see you. The same hand reaches up, grabbing Ivar’s chin as you pull his mouth towards yours again. 
“Are you waiting for something?” You tease him. 
Settling his legs over you, Ivar pulls away, shifting his weight as his hand grabs his length, The other rungs through his hair, pushing it from his view before tapping himself against you. Meeting your teasing with his own, the head of his cock finds your bundle of nerves, pressing ever so slightly as he hears you gasp. Your eyes flutter shut, bunching the sheets at your sides as his cock glides through your wetness. 
Ivar suddenly stops, a slow string of spit coming from his lips as it lands against your mouth. His fingers collect it, pressing them towards your clit before he takes them down his shaft. 
Pushing your hips into him, Ivar responds by slowing his motions, biting his bottom lip as his cock sinks into you, bottoming out until he’s flush against you. A deep moan climbs from his chest while he savors you fluttering around him. 
You reach at him, pulling him over you as his arms plant on each side of your head, moving before digging his fingers into your hair while his hips start up. Quickly they take force, slamming into you as the bed rocks against the walls. You hardly have a moment to grasp the sensation of how he feels inside of you, before he gets faster, moaning in your ear.
“Ivar,” You squeak. “Slow—” You grit out. “Slower,” You say and he stops, nuzzling against your head as his hips come to a halt. “Give a woman a chance to breath before you take away my ability to walk,” You mumble to him as you shift your body and Ivar only snickers from somewhere over you. 
Pulling back, Ivar lets go of your hair, smoothing it out slightly as he seeks out your lips again, humming into the kiss as your hands dance along his back. His hips roll lazily, your wetness collecting between you two and you offer him a sweet moan. 
“There are much better ways to take me if you want to go that fast,” You whisper to him. Ivar feels you push at him before his climbs back to let you move. Watching you crawl onto your stomach he pulls at your hips himself, positioning himself behind you while you nuzzle against the bed. His cock presses into you again, his chest coming over your back as the warmth radiates from him. Jutting the two of you up the bed, Ivar’s hips move as he wraps an arm around your waist, his free hand finding yours. 
Ivar’s thrusts are met with you pushing against him, chasing his cock in the brief moments it’s away from you while you hear the moans coming from his mouth. With your thighs shaking under him, you can’t help but moan his name, egging him on. 
As he chases his release, Ivar’s mind empties as he moves, your walls quivering around him with his arm attempting to pull you closer, even with no additional space. Through each grunt, each sweet sound you sing to him, Ivar’s muscles tense, the ache in his balls nearing an end before he pulls out of you suddenly. Moving away before he flips you in one quick display of his strength. 
Ivar moves again with his orgasm taking over his body. You feel the string of seed against your skin, watching him before you. Abs quivers as he breathes quickly, the final drops dribble from his flushed head, throbbing as it slides down his shaft. Only then is it collected as his fist moves to grab himself, and tap again against your cunt, swirling his essence against your mound. 
After a whisper of a moment, his fingers slide through your slit and press into you, curling them right against your sweet spot. Ivar leans over, lips hungrily against yours. As he feels your nails in his back, your teeth sink into his bottom lip while he pumps his fingers. 
Your mouth opens to moan and Ivar pushes his forehead against yours.
“Give it to me, Goddess,” Ivar whispers, “Come for me,” 
You can only whine in response, breathing deeply as Ivars fingers move, his eyes on yours and you can’t look away. His thumb comes against your clit, pressing in circles and you hum as the pleasure takes over your body. Your lashes flutter, a heat low in your belly as the coil tightens, as Ivar growls for you to open your eyes again.
“Look at me when you come,” Ivar tells you. Your eyes open as a blush covers your cheeks, the band finally snapping as you moan. Sinking your nails into his back before they move, grabbing his hair in an attempt to ground yourself as your orgasm rushes through your body. You grab his face again, pulling it back towards you to regain some control, as your mouth seeks his. 
Ivar slows his fingers as his breathing matches yours, lips lazily tackling one another as a satisfied groan comes from him. Moving, Ivar settles back over you, placing his weight carefully to cover you as you latch around him. Your hands take their turns from tracing his spine, to scratching his head as the man deflates above you, nuzzling into your cheek and you can’t help but smile. 
Moving again and putting his weight on his elbows, Ivar looks down at you, bumping your nose with his.
“Hi,” He says quietly.
“Hi, handsome,” You say back, a smile on your face. 
“You don’t…you don’t even work in the morning,” Ivar finally realizes. 
“I know,” You giggle and Ivar huffs, collapsing back over you. 
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literaryuppsala · 2 years
Text
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand.
Title: Another Taylor Swift song, I used ivy again and I am not sorry.
Pairing: Ivar x Fem!Reader
Summary: Ivar saves you in every way a woman can be saved.
Words: 6k(ish).
Warnings: Alright guys, bear with me cause we're going on a wild ride. Reader gets kidnaped by Harald and he tries to rape her (twice). Nothing happens cause our very own savior Mr. Ivar Lodbrok comes and saves the day. There's smut too, it's reader's first time, and it's Ivar's first time too, It's everything very soft. EXPLICIT, sex and violence, minors do not interact.
A/N: I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. Guys this is that scene in the Troy 2004 movie where Achilles saves Briseis, every resemblance is not a coincidence and every credit goes to Wolfgang Petersen, the director. My asks are always open: you can request a filthy smut, a relationship advice and my political opinion, I’ll answer to all of it. Feedback is always welcome and my mistakes are always mine.  
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The first thing you remembered from that night was the pain. As you were dragged out of your hiding place in the church your body drowned in the most excruciating pain you ever felt. You were pulled by your hair like you weighed nothing, that man would grunt like an animal, speak a language you didn’t quite know and look down at you with a scary smile plastered all over his face.
You screamed and struggled but as the seconds went by you learned that no matter how hard you fought you had no chance against him. Once he got tired of your shifting, he punched you hard on the head and everything went black. 
A few hours later, the screaming woke you up, you found yourself bound to a tree while those same men screamed and laughed around you. As your heart started to race you noticed when one of them walked over to you, a creepy smirk on his face as he approached furtively until he was in front of you, one hand rested against the tree while the other held a cup. He smelled your hair, then your neck, dragging his nose against your skin while you tried to squirm away. 
“Never been in between the legs of a christian woman.” He growled, bringing his wet finger to the cleavage of your chemise, then spilling the liquid on his cup over your breasts. “And I would love to be in between yours.” 
He tried to kiss you but you bit his lip, strong enough to open a cut, his blood filled your taste buds and you spat down on the ground as he winced in pain, moving away a little and staring at you angrily. He quickly rubbed his opened lip with the back of his hand before closing it into a fist and punching you on your stomach. 
You gasped. The strong man hit your face with more punches before signing to one of his friends to come close. They untied your arms then and dragged you towards the circle of men out there. They screamed like beasts, raising their cups and laughing at your pain. While one of them held your arms on your back, the other ripped your chemise in half, showing off your naked body to their hungry eyes. 
“After I have my way with her, you can have her.” The same man who tried to kiss you growled while untying his tunic, but before he could do anything, another voice screamed from somewhere, putting everyone else in silence. 
“Keep your cock to yourself, Harald.”  
You widened your eyes, staring blankly over that man’s shoulder. Another man, a younger one this time, walked calmly from a hiding place deep into the woods. A small group of people, a few women included, followed him close behind. 
“And why would I do that?”  The man you learned to be named ‘Harald’ turned on his back and answered with gritted teeth. 
“Because I told you to.” His smug face sent shivers down your spine. 
“I don’t feel like doing what you tell me to do, Ivar.” 
“You say that like I care about what you feel like doing, Harald.” He sighed. “I am very sorry If I gave you the wrong feeling that you have a say on this, because you don’t.” 
“Don’t forget you’re out here on my back, little Ivar. The ships out there are mine, most of the men here are mine.” He grunted, grabbing him by his arm angrily. “And I am getting tired of you Ragnarssons stepping in my way.”
“And you have five of us to worry about.” Another insignificant head sign and four more northmen gathered around them and pulled him off of Ivar who pulled his own sword out of his belt and pointed at his neck. 
You took that chance to hit the man behind you with your elbow as strong as you could. He released you in surprise but before you were able to run another one grabbed you, hugging you tightly against his chest. 
“Take her to my tent.” Ivar ordered firmly. “And you…” He pushed the sword into his skin. “Stay away from her.” 
You were calmly taken to Ivar’s tent, your body was treated with a lot more care this time, the man behind you didn’t dare to look at your bare body, covering your shoulders with the heavy fur he had on his hand. Once you were inside, he made you sit down on a pile of other furs gathered on the floor. A minute later Ivar pulled himself in, only then you noticed his legs and his crutches. 
“My name is Ivar.” He grunted tiredly while pulling a chair to sit down, shifting in pain. “This is my brother Hvitserk.” He pointed to him. “We are…”
“The Ragnarssons.” You interrupted them. “I heard the stories.” 
“We are very sorry for the way you were treated before.” Ivar continued. 
“Would you treat me differently sir?” You teased defiantly. 
“I just saved your life.” He answered with a knowing smirk. 
“With what intentions?” You insisted.
“The intention to save your life.” He shrugged. 
“I don’t believe that.” 
“Then what are you doing in my tent? You can go out there if you want.” 
You didn’t answer that, looked over the tent opening and then down your lap. 
“Go find Ubbe and our men.” Ivar dropped on the floor and crawled towards you. “Keep Harald and his dogs away from here.” 
“Stop telling me what to do, Ivar.” Hvitserk talked finally and didn’t seem happy. 
“So do you prefer to let them in?” He asked impatiently and his brother just grunted. “Bring me that bowl and a rag. You can leave after.” 
Once both of you were alone, Ivar took the wet cloth close to your face but you slapped it away. He tried It again, you slapped it again. He tried one more time and you kept slapping It until he gave up and threw the cloth on your face. You took it yourself and started to wipe the stains of dry blood spread on your skin.
“You were brave out there.” He sighed without looking at you.
“Brave enough to defend myself when I am attacked? Even a dog has that courage…” You grunted out, wetting the cloth and once again taking it to your face, cleaning the fresh wounds. 
“It’s not easy to do that once you’re held by a bunch of hungry dogs. They hurt and threatened you, still you didn’t make it any easier for them. It takes courage to do that.” He was looking at you while talking, you couldn’t help your wandering eyes to drop onto his legs. “You didn’t expect much help from a cripple, did you?” 
“What happened to them?” You dared to ask.
“I guess I just wasn't the gods’ favorite.” He answered while looking at his legs and then back at you.
“There’s only one true God.” You hissed, moving your gaze away from that man.
“To you.” He answered knowingly. “That’s quite a boring statement to me, you know? I truly believe it’s not possible for only one God to look after this whole creation. That would be too much work for only one.” 
“There’s no such thing as too much work for God. He takes care of all his creations, we are his children, he has power to take care of us all.” 
“Yeah? And where were him while you were out there being hurt by Harald and his men?” He asked with a curious smile. “If you’re his child, why would he let you suffer so much?” You didn’t have the answer for that question, but couldn’t look away from Ivar’s gaze. “See, my Gods would never let bad things happen to their children, but not every viking out there is a son of a God. My father was. And so are we, me and my brothers.” 
“You just said you’re not your gods’ favorite.” 
“You saw my men looking down as I walked past them, didn’t you? That wouldn’t happen to any cripple.” He grunted once more. “I might not be the gods’ favorite, little one, but I’m certainly part of the good ones.” 
You spent the next few days hiding inside Ivar’s tent. Hvitserk and a girl called Torvi would come in with food and water for you during the day, Ivar would come back by night and a man would always stay outside whenever you were alone. You didn’t feel like a prisoner, but never felt free to go either, not alone at least. 
Every night you would watch while Ivar slept peacefully, snoring softly with one hand on his naked chest and the other under his head, never paying any mind to you, leaving his knives and weapons at your reach. Every night the idea crossed your mind, taking one of those knives, taking his life and running back to the city, back to Wessex and your old life, but that seemed so far away that you would always brush the thoughts away. 
After days of sleeping only a few hours your body was giving up already, couldn’t bear to stay awake, but could never rest when sleeping, never letting yourself to lay down all of your defenses. Until one day, the silence outside gave you no warning about the abrupt pull on your ankles, your body was dragged outside the tent through the muddy ground until you felt his weight on you, his half naked body dragging over yours and the bad smell of ale coming out of his mouth. 
“Little bunny got all alone tonight, what a pity.” He grunted while messily kissing your neck.
“Release me!” You mumbled, trying to push him off of you, struggling with your legs trying to avoid him between your thighs. “HELP!” You screamed as loud as you could. 
“Keep screaming… I like that.” 
You heard when he, once again, ripped your new chemise appart, his muddy hands staining your untouched skin, rubbing painfully. The drizzle turned into a full on rainstorm, the noise swallowing your screams when he finally made It between your thighs, taking one of his hands between your bodies. Once again, he tried to kiss you and you bit his lips as strong as you could, sticking your thumbs on his eyes and making him roll off of you in pain. 
Without giving It a second thought, you ran. You ran as fast as you could through the woods, hearing while the drunk viking ran right after you, feelin the broken branches piercing through the skin of your feet, looking behind your shoulders trying to keep an eye on the man behind you. You ran for what felt like an eternity until you bumped into something, into someone and when you raised your eyes you couldn’t help but feel relieved. 
“Ivar.” You mumbled, tugging at his armor, nuzzling into his body, hugging him tightly like he was your life line, the only thing keeping you breathing. You didn’t even notice the group of people surrounding him, when he wrapped you under his arm everything else vanished and all you could sense was him and the strange sense of safety he brought to you.
“What happened? What are you doing out here?” He asked, worry all over his tone as he grabbed the back of your neck, his body trembling while trying to keep you with one arm and hold the crutch with the other. “What happened, little one?” 
You didn’t have to answer, Harald finally reached you and you felt Ivar’s body stiff against yours immediately. You turned your head a little looking at Harald over your shoulder. Then you hugged him tighter, hiding your face into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and trying to completely erase Harald from your mind. 
It took a few minutes of silence until Ivar hopped up his chariot with you under his arm, the storm was getting stronger by the minute and you refused to let go of his body. Still holding onto him, as Ivar left with the carriage, you looked around quickly, in time to see Hvitserk and Ubbe dismount from their horses and head towards Harald, you closed your eyes again and leaned into Ivar’s body, hugging him until you reached the camp. 
He didn’t say anything, but every time you shook in fear, he hugged you tighter. Once you got there, both of you left the chariot behind with another man, and headed to his tent as fast as you could. He couldn’t hug you while walking, but he made sure to hold your hand until you finally entered the tent. Before you could say anything, someone else showed up and Ivar’s features immediately hardened. 
“Ivar…” He started, but was interrupted just as fast.
“Out.” Ivar grunted under his breath, the young man looked at you, a silent plea before walking out. “Stay inside.” He ordered firmly to you before following his man out.
Your eyes followed him, the little spaces between the tent fabric showing half of the scene that was unwinding outside. 
“What happened?” You heard as he asked angrily. “You left her alone?” He shouted. 
“I got distracted for a moment and…” The young man stuttered in response.
Before he could finish, Ivar pulled his sword from his belt and moved towards him, you yelled in panic:
“No!” You jumped out of the tent towards Ivar grabbing his forearm before he could cut the poor man’s throat. 
“What are you doing?” He yelled at you. 
“No more killing!” You yelled back. 
The storm was unrelenting, and even though It was hard to see, you watched as the adam’s apple on Ivar’s throat went up and down, as if he was carefully thinking about his next words. Your body was the only thing between Ivar and that man, you were his only protection. 
“What are you talking about?? It’s his fault Harald almost…”
“It’s nobody’s fault but Harald’s. And even If It was his fault, his death wouldn’t change what happened.” You insisted. “I don’t want anyone getting killed in my name.” 
“You should be honored.”
“Innocent blood spilled for nothing, there's no reason to be honored. I won’t be an excuse for another man’s death!” 
Ivar looked at you like you were insane, but gave up eventually, dropping his sword and sighing loudly. He then pushed you inside the tent and looked over his shoulder before following you inside. 
“I wonder if I had Harald under my sword you would have the same reaction.” He mumbled while starting to untie his upper body’s armor. “Not so innocent blood, right?” 
“It’s not your right to take any man’s life.” You mouthed, crossing your arms around yourself. “He will be punished for his sins.” 
“You seem very certain about that.” He grunted as he pushed his soaked tunic over his head, showing off the wounds on his chest. You looked away, turning your back at him. “I could use some help.” 
“I can’t. You’re naked.” You answered shyly. 
“Isn’t your god teaching you to help the ones in need?” You heard as he fell with a tud on the chair, a tiny whimper following right after. “I’m the one in need at the moment.”
“You can do it by yourself. I saw you do it by yourself before.” You insisted, looking over your shoulder discreetly and finding his sparkling blue eyes looking right back at you. You shivered, turning your face again. 
“Yes, but before I wasn’t coming back from a battle. I’m wounded, little one.”  
“I can’t… I can’t!” 
Another muffled laugh sent shivers down your body, you heard while he struggled with the crutches, next thing he dropped on the ground and crawled over the makeshift bed, only in his trousers, as always. After sitting over the furs, he cleaned himself a bit before laying down completely, covering his body and protecting himself from the cold. 
“You should take off these wet rags.” He grunted, looking at you. 
“I don’t have anything else to put on.” You whispered in response. 
He laughed again, a humorless laugh as he looked at you in disbelief. 
“You don’t have anything to worry about, little one. There’s nothing working down my waist. Even If I wanted to do anything with you, I wouldn’t be able to.” 
“I-I… I don’t believe you.” You looked at him with widened eyes.  
“I guess you won’t be sharing the bed with me either.” He mumbled with a smirk. 
“You know I won’t.” 
“That’s a pity. It’s very warm down here.” 
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, only then you went to your corner, sitting down on the ground hugging your own legs against your chest, trying to stay warm.  Either way, after the first hour your trembling body won the battle against your morals, you got rid of the ripped off rags and carefully laid down under the covers, right next to Ivar. 
Your body warmed up almost immediately and you finally stopped shaking. You turned to your side, trying your best to keep some distance from Ivar but keeping an eye on him. He sighed suddenly and your body stiffed, scared he might try anything with you, but he just moved both of his arms under his head. You looked at him shyly, curiosity taking the best of you while you tried to understand what every figure painted on his chest could possibly mean. 
“You’re staring.” His voice startled you. 
“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You mumbled shyly. 
“I was. You woke me up.” He turned his head to look at you, a grin plastered on his face. 
“I am… Sorry.” You swallowed hard. 
“Come.” He growled, pulling you into his arms, your naked chest pressed against his. 
“What are you doing?” You snapped, pushing him away from you.
“Warming you up. Stop pushing me, I told you nothing can happen between us.” He insisted, but you kept pushing him away until you turned on your back, reaching for the knife he had left on the floor and quickly putting It against his neck. 
“Killing me It’s a terrible plan, little one.” He whispered, his hands pressing against your back while you kept the knife against the skin of his neck. “But that’s your decision. So… Go ahead.” 
Ivar raised his head giving you enough space to slit his throat If you wanted to. Your hands were shaking, your heart was racing against your chest and your breathing was erratic, you stared at him in panic. 
“You’re insane.” You whispered. 
“So I've been told.” He answered, moving his neck until the knife crossed the first layer of skin, a thin line of blood oozed down his neck. He then lowered his head, catching your gaze with his, a knowing grin spreading all over his face. 
You didn’t notice he was moving, not until his lips touched yours softly. At first you freezed, widened your eyes staring blankly into his, but then you parted your lips a little, letting the viking suck your lower lip into his mouth. He pulled away, he seemed as surprised as you were. 
“Will you take this off of my neck, little one?” He asked, and you nodded, pulling the knife away. “Let me kiss you again…” He inhaled, nipping at his bottom lip with a hopeful look, his eyes locked on yours.
Slowly, you pulled away a little, relaxing the grip around the knife. Ivar rolled off of you, laying on top of you, his thigh bending between your legs while his hands grabbed at your waist. He kissed you again, parting his lips and waiting until you parted yours so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue slowly massaging yours until he distracted you enough so he could take the knife from your hands and throw It away. 
That was your first kiss and you blindly followed his silent commands, repeating his moves a little awkwardly. Ivar pulled away only when he had to breathe, and you followed his face with your eyes closed, yearning for his mouth. You didn’t see the smile forming on his lips before he kissed you again, grabbing your arms and putting ‘em around his own neck. 
The weight of his chest kneading on your breasts was slowly making you ache between your legs and his thigh pressing against your core wasn’t helping either, every flex of his muscle sent shock waves through your body, your hips moving on its own accord seeking uncontrollably for the new sensation he was bringing to you. 
Without noticing, Ivar started to do the same, grinding against your thigh, his right hand searching between your bodies until it found your breast, kneading at the flesh, teasing your nipple with the tip of his fingers. 
When the air became thin again, Ivar dropped his lips to your neck, starting to suck purple marks from your sensitive skin, making you shudder. Your hands found his braided hair and you let slip the tiniest moan, dragging a low grunt from his throat. 
His sinful mouth kept his tour down your body until his lips latched at your nipple, sucking and teasing the little nub until it became pebbled and did the same with the other, sucking it into his mouth like a newborn baby.
Ivar opened your legs with his hips and, giving no time for you to protest, licked down your belly until he found your core, latching at your wet folds, sipping at your juices like the finest, the sweetest wine. You widened your eyes at the new feeling, arching your back on the bed as you gripped the furs under your body. 
“Ivar…” You moaned shyly. He didn’t stop, starting to suck on your clit feverishly, making you gasp. 
He kept sucking on you, messily sucking on you until you were dripping through the corners of his mouth, you could sense your core getting wetter and wetter by the minute, a weird coil on your lower belly started to form and you felt like you needed to go to the bathroom. You tried to pull away from his grip, but both of his hands held your hips in place and you felt his tongue enter you, you moaned loud, calling his name, closing your eyes as you buckled up against his mouth.
“Ivar!” You called again, still trying to push him away. 
Your legs started to shake and as the coil snapped you pressed his head between your thighs, moaning loudly when you reached your peak without actually knowing what had happened. 
Ivar kept licking on you for what felt like an eternity, before stopping to look at you from down there. You closed your eyes and covered your face feeling utterly embarrassed. You felt as he moved but then he stayed quiet, you looked between your fingers just to see him in awe staring at his own cock. Curious, you finally uncovered your face and sat down, looking at him with a frown. 
“It never happened before.” He murmured, still looking at his up and proud cock, head an angry shade of red, leaking profusely down his length. “It ne-never…” He raised his eyes to stare at you, eyes widened. 
“What?” You asked in shock, eyes focusing on his impressive size. 
“My cock. It never… Worked before.” He whispered, reaching for your hand, pulling it until you touched him. “I made you cum and got hard…” 
“Be-because… Because of… Me?” You blinked, looking at him while letting him move your hand up and down his length. 
Ivar closed his eyes, lips parting as he sighed heavily. You looked at him, feeling strangely proud of yourself. Your fingers slipped easily, he was wet and hot against your palm, and as he moaned softly, all you wanted was to keep dragging those beautiful sounds from him. But all of that was completely new territory for you, an open field, you didn’t want to hurt him. 
“Ivar… H-help me… I don’t know what… What to do.” You whispered shyly, making him open his eyes, his beautiful, sparkling, glossy eyes staring down at you like you were some kind of treasure. 
“You don’t…” He gasped as you pressed your fingers around his girth. “Have to… Oh Gods…” He moaned again, eyes now focused on your hand. 
You smiled to yourself, releasing his cock and crawling over to him until you were sitting on your calves, right by his side. You raised your hand to touch him again, but he stopped you. 
“Sit on me.” He commanded, hands on your hips trying to pull you in. 
You widened your eyes, scared. You kneeled on the furs as he held your hips, opening your legs trying to make you straddle him. You held onto his shoulders for balance and grunted in fear. 
“Wait… Wait… Ivar…” 
He stopped and looked at you, he seemed just as nervous as you were. You swallowed hard, tears gathering on the corners of your eyes. You blinked scared and his grip loosened a bit, only then you felt his hands shaking. 
“I’m… I’m sorry, little one.” He breathed and was about to release you when you held his hand. 
“Won’t be comfortable for you…” You murmured shyly, moving away from his lap and kneeling beside him again, he blinked confused. “Can you… Can you lay down, please?” 
He nodded, moving over the furs until he laid down completely. You took a deep breath before straddling him again, you were wet enough to drip onto his hard cock, either way Ivar licked his fingers and touched you, smearing your juices with his saliva, making you even more wet. With his other hand he held his length, lining It with your center, your hands on each side of his head, eyes focused on his waist. 
“Look at me.” He asked and you obeyed, looking up at his face. “Are you sure?” 
“Just… Just… Just… Wait a second…” You took a deep breath before closing your eyes and nodding. 
“But I need you to look at me.” He begged, his voice was trembling just like his hands. You obeyed, looking down at him with hooded eyes. 
Slowly, you began to sit down on him, the head of his cock pressing into you, opening you. You bit on your lower lip, the stretch burning against your walls as he slowly entered you. When he found a thin barrier he stopped completely, holding up your hips .
“Ivar…” You whined, looking at him with glossy eyes. 
“Hug me.” He asked and you nodded, moving down on him until your head found the crook of his neck, hands on his shoulders.
He kept you in place for a few more minutes, your walls hugging tightly around him while he used all his strength to wait for your time, he didn’t want to hurt you, not too much at least. Your heart was beating fast and loud on your head, you were breathing rapidly, frantically. 
“You’re doing so good for me.” He mumbled, lips finding the skin of your shoulders as he started to suck brand new marks on you. Taking his kisses to your neck, Ivar moved your hair from his way, starting to lick on your sensitive skin, doing his best to distract you again. 
You started to moan, absently moving on your hips, your walls fluttering around his girth. You kissed him, holding his face, letting him push you down a little more. You whined against his lips, breathing heavily as he kept pushing you down until he was balls deep into you. Both of you parted the kiss so you could moan loudly, Ivar closing his eyes as he felt your walls gripping him like a vice. 
“Oh gods… This is…This is Valhalla…” He groaned. 
Your vision was blurred by your tears, you never felt that full before, or that vulnerable. Ivar’s hands started to run up and down your sweaty back, whispering praises into the shell of your ear like prayers to a god, to a goddess. His hips started to buckle, his throbbing cock twitching inside you as your walls shuddered and your hips started to grind down, unconsciously meeting his timid thrusts. 
“That’s It, little one, that’s it.” He mumbled in awe, both of his closed as he pressed you against his body. 
Ivar covered your shoulder skin in kisses, thrusted up into you very slowly, waiting for you to meet down with your hips. Your cries were muffled against his neck, but as the burning sensation started to fade, your body started to seek the same feeling he brought to you with his mouth. 
With your hands on each side of his head, you raised your upper body, unconsciously pressing your hips down even more, the new angle making the head of his cock nudge against a spot inside you, you had no idea was there, but sent electric shock waves through your body and dragged a loud mewl from your throat. You did It again, rolling your lips until you found that same spot, Ivar’s hands finding home on your hips letting you move the way you wanted. 
“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered, looking at your throbbing slit. “So beautiful, little-oh-little one…”
Ivar moaned, one of his hands leaving your hip to knead on your breast, your hands quickly meeting his, covering them while you started to move a little faster. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, the feeling on your lower belly started to show up again, making you roll your hips faster. You felt when his hand snaked around your neck, squeezing softly. Your breath hitched and you gasped, his free thumb met your throbbing clit while you began to bounce up and down on his cock. 
It was like your body knew exactly what you needed, while your brain went completely blank except for Ivar’s name, your hips circled, rolled and bounced naturally. Both your hands clung to the one he had around your neck, the coil on your belly became tighter and tighter by the minute and the mewls escaping through your parted lips mixed with Ivar’s grunts, filling the tent and probably soaring outside too. 
“Ivar…” You started but got cut off by one particularly deep thrust, moaning softly. 
“I know. I got you, you can cum on my cock. Make a mess for me, please.” His pleas came out as a broken cry, the sound went straight to your core, the coil snapped finally and you felt yourself clenching down on his cock. Ivar followed you close behind, a warm liquid spurted inside you and dripped down your core onto his cock and pelvis. 
With your eyes closed, you fell on his chest, breathing heavily while he hugged you tightly, one hand on your head, caressing your hair while the other pressed down on your back. You stayed like this for a moment, Ivar’s cock slipping out of you after a minute or two. His chest went up and down against yours, rapidly after first, but then slowed down and yours followed. 
Ivar moved under you and you squealed in surprise, moving your head to look at him, at his neck to be more specific. He looked down, his eyes meeting yours making you blush and hide your face on the curve of his neck, avoiding his gaze. He laughed softly. 
“No need to get all shy on me now.” He whispered, moving the strands of hair from your face. 
“It’s easier saying it than doing it.” You answered, still hiding. 
He laughed again, keeping his hands on your body and for whatever reason, none of that felt wrong, quite the opposite. But you still didn’t know what to say, your brain started working fast, seeking for the dark side of that, of him. Slowly you became scared of the future. 
“Am I still your prisoner?” You asked after some time. 
“You never were.” He answered quickly. “But…” 
“But what?”
“I don’t want you to go. I’ll be sad if you go.” 
You finally looked at him, he looked back. Ivar seemed so young and vulnerable, far away from the scary man you were used to seeing. 
“I want you to stay, little one. Stay with me.” He begged, hand meeting the side of your face and you unconsciously leaned into his hand. 
You didn’t answer right away, after a moment he fell asleep and you finally found the courage to run away, you grabbed one of Ivar’s tunics and ran, making room for yourself through the woods until you finally reached the gates of Wessex. The guards saw you and immediately opened It, your fiancée jumping down the stairs until he reached you on the floor, pulling you in for a hug. 
“Thank God you’re safe.” He whispered. “I thought I lost you forever!” He grabbed your face with both of his hands, leaning his forehead against yours. 
Everything you knew was different then. Your hometown, your fiancée, your life. Looking into his eyes didn’t bring you any comfort or sense of safety, not as you found with Ivar. He looked at you for a moment before frowning. 
“What did they do to you?” He asked angrily.
“Nothing.” You answered, holding his hands and pulling them away from your face. “I just need to go home, please.” You whispered. 
He then covered your body that was half naked to protect you from prying eyes and walked you to the house you lived with your sister. Your parents had died years before, living both of you by yourselves, as soon as you got there she hugged you tightly, crying softly on your shoulder. 
“I’m so sorry!” She whispered on your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you alone in the church.” 
“It’s past now.” You tried to calm her down. 
“Come, I’ll help you clean yourself.”
You said goodbye to your fiancée while she prepared a bath for you. As soon as you entered the wooden tub, the stains of blood between your thighs turned the water slightly pink. Your sister saw It but didn’t say anything, helping you to clean yourself completely. Moments later, you were sitting on your bed, covered in a clean dress while she brushed your hair. 
“Are you alright?” She asked shyly and you just nodded in response. 
As soon as you found yourself alone, you looked out of the window of your room, the night started to paint the sky a dark shade of blue that reminded you of his eyes. You felt deeply empty, for whatever reason, Ivar was the only thing on your mind. You looked around, none of that felt as familiar as his arms, as warm as his bed. You hugged yourself, feeling dirty, tears gathering around your eyes as you found yourself missing him. 
Later, the screaming outside your house woke you up and just like you felt the drops of the rain on your skin on a stormy day, you felt his presence. You got up, sat up on your bed and looked out of the window again. The impulse was uncontrollable, you just left. Ran through your door, towards the noise because you knew he would be there. 
When your eyes found his, the sparkling blue lit up under the dim light of the fire surrounding him. He surely seemed like a god bringing chaos into your lull. He seemed hurt, he looked at you angrily at first, but then the relief painted down his features. 
Your fiancée grabbed you by your forearm, dragging you through the mess of screaming people while you struggled to get released, you screamed but he didn’t seem to hear you. For a moment you gave up until you heard his voice, right behind you both. He approached in his chariot, crossing in front you and stopping you in your tracks. 
Ivar didn’t say anything, he looked at you. He looked at you and for the very first time you felt truly seen. He offered you his hand and without a second thought you jumped into his chariot, straight into his arms. He then smiled at you, beautifully, dragging a smile from your lips before kissing you feverishly. 
“Let’s go home, little one.” He whispered against your lips, before leaving all that mess behind. 
***
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