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axelsagewrites · 2 months

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Where Am I?*Part Three

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 1482

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two

Masterlist Here

You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.

When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”

“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”

“Why did she talk to you and not us?”

You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.

“So how does a lighter work?”

“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.

Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”

“Uh…” you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.

“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.

“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.

“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.

It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.

Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”

You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”

You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”

You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.

You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.

However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.

“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”

They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”

“Uh…”

Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.

“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.

Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.

You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.

“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”

“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.

You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.

“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,

Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”

“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.

You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.

The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”

You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”

“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”

“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.

Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”

Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.

It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”

“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.

“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.

“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.

Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?

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gwen-novella · 1 year

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Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet

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

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.

Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!

(*) smár brandr = little blade

#vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings reader insert #ivar x you #ivar x y/n #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless/reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson x you #ivar oneshot #ivar the boneless #reader insert

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lavender-romancer · 8 months

Text

Winter

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict

You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.

You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.

"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.

"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.

"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.

"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."

"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.

"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.

"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.

"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.

Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.

When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.

"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.

"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.

"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.

"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.

"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.

"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.

"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.

For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.

"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.

"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.

"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.

Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.

Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson x oc #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson angst #vikings ivar #viking imagine #vikings fanfic

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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 26 days

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Ivar Ending: Vikings - Una Flor

Summary: It began with flowers, but it bloomed into something more

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (romantic)

A/N: It has been such a long time since I touched this series or even tried writing for fun. I feel rusty and not too confident, but it was nice to write after such a long time. A bit short, but I think it was decent.

Una Flor Series Masterlist

Ivar was seated rather comfortably on his throne, watching with keen eyes as his twin boys sparred harshly with one another; elbows into the gut and tackles into the ground as a circle of people cheered for either of the boys. It was an even match between the two, similar height, similar weight, and similar fighting prowess. The only discernible difference between them was the different shades of brown in their hair.

It seemed that the sparring match would go on for quite some time, until the twin with lighter brown hair began to lose his footing and the other with dark hair was quick to use that moment for his advantage.

Wrangling the other onto the ground and keeping him in a hold until the other tapped harshly to be released. The crowd cheered in delight before going back to their tables, the music started up again, and they drank from their horns of ale.

Ivar smiled with pride and clapped slowly as his boys approached him with wide smiles.

“What did you think, Papa?” Asked Erik the brother with lighter brown hair.

“You both did quite well,” he said. “And I am proud that you have worked hard in your lessons, Erik and Alaric, but you will need to be more aware of your footwork. I cannot help in that, but I will bring it up to your mother for when she plans your next lesson.”

After her first initial lessons from Bjorn, (Y/N) had continued training to become a skilled warrior and even after she married Ivar, she continued to train. She hadn't set aside her love of homemaking, but she had come to enjoy learning the new skills until eventually, the Ragnarssons all agreed that there was nothing they could teach her and it was just as well, because she had been the one to pass on their teachings to her twin boys.

“Speaking of mama, where is she? Wasn’t she beside you earlier when we started sparring earlier?” Asked Alaric, the brother with darker brown hair.

“Behind you,” came the voice behind them.

It was enough to startle all of them that they jumped in their place.

“Mama! / (Y/N)!” They all cried out indignantly.

She giggled as she handed their sons a bowl of stew each, “We will need to work on your awareness next time that we have lessons, but to answer the question, I simply stepped away to bring you food after your bout.”

As if they were starved animals, the twins were quick to dig into their meal of a hearty stew and a fresh roll of bread. Sitting on the steps of their father's throne and gently leaning against him with care as they ate to their fill.

While the boys remained distracted, Ivar gave his wife a skeptical look.

"What else were you doing, wife?" Ivar asked. "You spent too much time to have brought the boys only a meal."

She smiled at him softly, tenderly cupping his cheek in her hand and pressing a kiss to his temple. At the same time that she placed a flower in his hair.

"Our flowers are finally in bloom, and I came to bring you the first one" she whispered.

Ivar flushed in embarrassment as he remembered his blunder all those years ago in his youth, but he was grateful for it all the same. It had started with flowers, but their love had certainly bloomed into something more.

#vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x reader #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless x reader #x reader #x reader insert #una flor series #una flor

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collecting-stories · 8 months

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Willow - Ivar the Boneless

Summary: Feast night in Kattegat, some pretty shameless flirting.

A/N: I haven't written vikings in forever but part of this was in my drafts from like, last year and I finally finished it this morning.

TS Anthology Masterlist | Vikings Masterlist

✰ wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark ✰

The lanterns that lined the path from the village to the fjord were lit, glowing a warm orange beneath the ever darkening sky. There were soft sounds of a lyre playing somewhere just beyond your line of sight, settling a trance over the whole of the village as you made your way through smaller parties that gathered outside of the great hall, enchanted by the warm night. Feast nights were always your favorite, less of a formality than a festival or a celebration, you weren't so watched on a feast night as you were other times.

"Have you come to join the dancing?"

Still, there were some whose gaze you never quite seemed to escape. As you addressed the rustling of bushes near your knees, you peered down in the dim light to find Ivar, stakes dug into the ground as he frowned up at you, obviously not amused by the playful teasing.

"Perhaps someone could string me up like those nonsensical dolls they bring to market, wouldn't you enjoy that?" He retorted, thinking of the countless times he'd requested his mother have the man with the marionettes killed. Or punished violently, he wasn't picky.

You bent your knees, squatting down so your butt hovered over the grass, reaching a hand out to stroke Ivar's cheek. He leaned his face into your touch, turning his head just so to brush his lips to your open palm.

"You think I am making fun of you? You forget then, I have felt the way you move against me when we are beneath the furs on your bed my love, there is no dance I long for more." You replied.

Ivar huffed, tilting his head down just enough to nip at your exposed wrist, "now I know you are playing with me." He replied, "I should have you strung up like that marionettes."

When you smiled he couldn't deny the triumphant feeling that gripped his heart, as if some unknown force was saying 'look, you who is so plagued by hideous feelings and darkness, you have made the sun shine in the dead of night'.

"You would enjoy that." You repeated his words back to him, a statement this time and not a question.

Carefully, so that you didn't fall over completely, you stood back up, brushing your hands down the front of your clothing. Ivar watched you as the doors to the great hall sung open and more people filed out, shouting and laughing with each other. The lights inside the building and the ruckus had drawn your attention for a split second but then your gaze was back on Ivar, the soft light of the lanterns shining on his face and illuminating his blue eyes.

"Shall we take our leave?" You asked, sounding somewhat conspiratorial as you watched him.

Despite the informality of the feast, you were certain your parents would notice if you were gone for too long or if you left early. They'd been careful with you ever since you'd come of age, cautious of who took an interest in their youngest child. Though they knew better than to speak out of turn about the disabled son of Ragnar Lothbrok, you could see, and so could most everyone else, that he was not who they wanted you to spend time with. Ivar knew, certainly. He'd seen the disdainful looks but it rarely deterred him. Ivar had always been someone who got exactly what he wanted, whether through temper tantrums, deceit, manipulation, or someone's misguided pity. Still, he looked almost surprised at the suggestion, though it only showed for a split second before he was schooling his expression to a neutral one.

"I thought feast nights were your favorite? Don't you want to celebrate all who have returned from raiding?" He asked, shifting his weight so he could look up at you with more ease.

"Of course I want to," you replied, ignoring the first of his questions, "but I don't think I need anyone in there watching me celebrate your safe return."

Ivar's face flushed up to his ears and you smiled in satisfaction. "You are worse than Loki with your tricks."

"What tricks?" You asked, sitting this time, your legs crossed in front of you and knees brushing against his hands. You leaned forward, your face as close to Ivar's as you could be without touching him, "don't you want to celebrate?"

"What would your father say, hm?" Ivar hummed, secretly thrilled when your hand found its place cradling his face again, your thumb gently stroking his cheek.

"Are you really more interested in discussing my father?" You asked, "when I am famished and have been waiting since the ships first crested the horizon to feast?"

"Were you not just in the great hall?" Ivar questioned, squinting in the dim lantern light so that he could appraise your words.

"I was. You weren't though and I have been eager to sink my teeth into you," you teased, snapping playfully at him.

The flush was back on Ivar's cheeks tenfold, flustered by the very suggestion that you wanted to be with him. It wasn't the first time you and he had laid together. Thank god for that, Ivar thought briefly as you stood again, stepping off the path and back toward the bushes that Ivar had come out of before.

Your first time together had been awkward and slightly painful and he had been embarrassed for some weeks afterward that you would be hesitant to speak to him again, let alone allow him in your bed. Some goddess had blinded you with love or lust or adoration though because you seemed so taken with him from then on that you often sought him out, much to his own excitement. Ivar was just as adoring and in love as you were, if not more. While it was more than true that he got exactly what he wanted all the time, it was always better when he was wanted back.

"Are you coming?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Yes. You'll notice it is a bit more difficult to turn around when you're unable to stand up." He grumbled, digging his stakes into the ground as he shifted himself around to follow you.

"Perhaps, but I do so enjoy watching you."

"Humorous is it?" Ivar snapped, missing the way you smiled at his sour disposition.

"Not the word I would use," you replied. "Is a snake in the grass humorous? Or is it beautiful? Dangerous? Exciting?"

"I am a snake now?"

"Oh, most assuredly my love, you are full of venom. Though, I would gladly let you bite me." You teased, watching him as he caught up with you.

"You have not let me yet," he replied, looking far more sour at that remark than at anything else you'd said all night.

"Patience."

He huffed, "I have endured a treacherous ocean, armies of men, illness, injury, near death...and you tell me to have patience?"

"Just for a simple kiss." You replied, as if it was nothing to him, "you have brought riches back with you...surely that means more than a simple kiss."

Ivar tugged your ankle as you stepped closer to him, knocking your legs out from under you and watching with satisfaction as you fell to the ground.

"Ivar!" You laughed, uninjured and no less enamored with him than you had been before. He smiled, devious grin lighting up his features in the dark as he crawled over you, staking the ground over your sleeve so that you couldn't move away from him. "What are you doing?"

"I have no patience," he replied, "I shall have my feast here."

#collecting stories imagine #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x y/n #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar the boneless fic #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok imagine #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings fan fiction

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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Hello there :) please could I request something for Vikings with a female reader if possible. Where the reader (a shieldmaiden) meets the ragnarssons for the first time after being taken in by Ragnar when her parents are killed, and they start developing feelings for her later on? 💙

Hey! Thought that making this into headcanons/preferences would be the best format, message me if you want a full work where I elaborate!🌺

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Vikings preference: Falling for a shieldmaiden taken in by Ragnar

Bjorn A little rough around the edges, at first - you're a complete stranger, after all. Maybe he criticizes your posture one day and you're more than willing to make him prove his 'superiority'. Whether you win or lose is not as important as the sole fact that you were a challenge for him, although he might not outright admit that. Despite being a shieldmaiden and Bjorn having witnessed your abilities first-hand, he still perceives you as a woman first - the burden of upbringing, one might say. Because of that, he often tries to fight your battles for you, both on the battlefield and outside of it. Most of the time it's small things: bringing you this, giving you that. He definitely might come off as overbearing at times but there's no malice in his heart - Bjorn genuinely believes he's doing the right thing. The downside is that even your stern words might not knock off his habits (the two of you fought numerous times about his overprotective attitude). That protective side of him comes out especially strong during cold winter months when he needs to be extra sure that you're well-fed and warm. In his hot and cold attitude, you find irrefutable proof of his affection. After all, what else if not love could bring warmth and care out of a man known for his dauntlessness and reserved attitude? Bjorn puts his fondness into words in a very peculiar manner: suggesting your possible gains. In other terms, he hints at all the goods you'd have and the shortages you wouldn't suffer if he could have your hand. See that pile of wood that's going to last you for at least a month? Or the furs on your bed that are just enough to stay warm on a freezing winter night? Without half-truths and subtext, Bjorn assures you that he could provide you so much more. Although 'could' should be read as 'wants to' - a desire he's determined to fulfil only if you agree to be his.

Ubbe The one who actually talks to you first, with no expectations or prejudice. Even if he did have those, he's capable of looking past them and making a fair judgement only after getting to know you. At first he's a little uncomfortable with the situation and your person because you're kind of like a sister but not really? That apprehension doesn't last long, however: he's a little too smitten with you. To his own surprise, your presence makes the long absence of his father a little easier to bear - Ragnar didn't leave on a whim, he had a reason to do so and it was a good reason. If the other Ragnarsons treat you with malice, thinking of you as the sole reason they had to grow up fatherless, Ubbe is always ready to step in and de-escalate the situation. In some way, he's similar to Bjorn in expressing his affection in the sense of being protective. Ubbe perceives you as a woman, a woman he loves to be exact, and only then a warrior, despite getting a taste of your skills on his own. Just like his half-brother, he'd try to do things for you, deal with the mundane burdens of everyday life; he only cares about you. The thing that sets them apart is Ubbe's willingness to stand back - once he knows you can stand your ground, he lets go a little, although reluctantly. Another thing is that he already acts like your husband despite being yet to earn that title: always being in your vicinity, fighting any men who try to woo you, thinking ahead and gifting you anything you might need in the near future. Whenever his training alongside his brothers, Ubbe tends to tease them saying that you're better than them. Whether that is true or just brotherly spitefulness is yet to be determined. When the moment comes and Ubbe confesses his affections, he's very straight-forward, telling you how much you mean to him.

Hvitserk Curious and fascinated - you're pretty and courageous. Even if you end up rejecting him (a possibility he doesn't think is realistic), you seem like a great person to be around. He's friendly from day one. Keeps hinting at his romantic interest in you through smooth, sublime and yet unambiguous remarks, so there is no doubt about his intentions. In an attempt to spend more time with you, Hvitserk offered to join you in training. Clashing swords and breadth-of-hair ducks were not enough to stop his flirting (you had this growing suspicion that he's also unnecessarily touchy - not that you were one to complain). The only difference from his daily sweet talk was that with a sword in his hand, Hvitserk's words became vividly more explicit. Some of them caught you off guard but once the surprise washed away, you realized you had nothing against those generous offers becoming true. Even if his brothers are also interested in you, he doesn't see them as a competition or a threat of any sort. His approach wouldn't be a surprise to anyone who had even once seen you two together - there was no chance any other Ragnarson could sweep you off your feet. Truth be told, you knew Hvitserk's feelings before he told you, although it should be clarified that he didn't explicitly confess his affections: during a quite intimate moment, in bed and under furs, he suddenly asked you to marry him. Relationship-wise, out of all the Ragnarsons Hvitserk is the one to treat you the most equally to him.

Sigurd Begins to be interested in you simply because his brothers were. Then he noticed your ambivalence towards Ivar and how much it was pissing the youngest brother off and Sigurd was instantly on board - he might yet find an ally in you. Out of the Ragnarssons, he is the most invisible brother and so he didn't quite expect to pique your interest. To his surprise, you're the one to accost him, asking about living in Kattegat and the family reputation he has to hold up. Not to mention all the prince's responsibilities he has to suffer. From your own words, Sigurd learned that, just like him, you're not one for big crowds and front rows, preferring to stray from the eye of the storm that so often seemed to emerge around Ragnar and his sons. He finally found someone who understood his perspective and not only that - they shared it. The two of you are often disappearing somewhere together and the general population of Kattegat quite quickly catches on but you and Sigurd care little about those rumours. Definitely spent hours upon hours coming up with a wax poetic ballad about you. He put himself in one of the verses describing his growing fondness for you. Luckily for him, he won't have to change the verse about the shieldmaiden loving some guy named Sigurd back.

Ivar Acts like he doesn't care and tries to make himself believe that mainly because deep inside he had immediately dismissed the possibility of you being interested in him. You've heard stories of course but a certain degree of scepticism is a trait of a good warrior - it keeps you level-headed. Once when you were sitting on the pier, enjoying a moment of solitude, Ivar approached you only to ask about his father. After all, you'd spent more time with Ragnar than he did, even if he wasn't your actual parent. While sharing stories about the famous Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar noticed that you're neither apprehensive nor fearful of him. In a way, it upsets him - he found himself in a situation where he doesn't have the upper hand. But this surprising and wholly unwelcome vulnerability didn't backfire. Truthfully, the longer you talked about the legend of Ragnar Lothbrok, the more Ivar wished you would stop talking about his father and simply talk about yourself. Except for his parents, you were the only person whose presence he didn't completely detest and Ivar was yet to make an opinion on how that made him feel. He definitely hates seeing you interact with his brothers as he naively thought that he was the only recipient of your sympathies and it's exactly that lack of exclusivity that makes him go out on a limb and make less-than-ambiguous remarks that you happily reciprocate. Sometimes, when he can't sleep at night, Ivar climbs onto his father's throne and dwells on various fantasies of glory and bloodshed. In those dreams, there's always a place for you - a brave and beautiful shieldmaiden that rides into battle by his side and gives birth to his children, who go on to become kings, emperors and conquerors.

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 months

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come.

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods.

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives.

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance.

And Ivar relished every moment.

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated.

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them.

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives.

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come.

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act.

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him.

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come.

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted.

Fucking pathetic.

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer.

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it.

"Wake him up."

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man.

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now.

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement.

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief.

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?”

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case.

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue.

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination.

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane.

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.”

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white.

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her.

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain.

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off.

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover.

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side.

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–”

Another smack reverberated in the air.

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out.

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse.

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!”

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill.

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands.

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha.

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing.

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise.

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs.

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of.

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still.

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin.

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?”

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered.

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now.

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.”

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic.

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face.

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed.

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high.

“You live!”

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence.

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?”

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim.

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them.

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real.

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm.

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest.

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side.

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out.

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name.

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water.

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket.

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn.

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?”

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number.

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief.

Someone was calling him about Kari.

As an emergency contact.

From a hospital.

Where she is a patient.

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him.

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him.

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying.

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her.

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting.

He had promised.

And he failed.

Again.

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again.

“Yes.” He croaked out.

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call.

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic.

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed.

��What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror.

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.”

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option.

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes.

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her.

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass.

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel.

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort.

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind.

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on.

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

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redskull199987 · 1 year

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Hey

Can you do a ragnar x reader x lagertha where she refuses their proposal to be with them bcs she thinks they are caos ( they are tbh)

Thank you

I absolutely love this one, it was so much fun to write. It's a little bit short though, I hope you don't mind:)

I walk alone

Ragnar x Lagertha x female!reader Request

Word count:0.7k

Warnings:none

Summary:Ragnar and Lagertha keep nagging you about marrying them, but even though you're in love with them, a marriage is something that you didn't even consider so far...

Masterlist

"We won't ask you again, Y/N", Lagertha mumbled. I felt how she traced the features of my face with her delicate fingers. Nevertheless, my eyes remained shut. I was not giving in.

"She's right", Ragnar agreed and I felt how his cold hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him.

"You guys are annoying", I answered and finally opened my eyes, "This question is getting tiring"

"What do you mean?", Lagertha asked, Irritationen in her voice.

I sighed and slowly started to get up, trying to get out of their embrace.

"It means, I won't marry you", I said, giving her a calming smile.

"Don't take it too personal", I explained while starting to get dressed.

"What do you mean, don't take it too personal?", Ragnar wondered. He sat up now too, eyeing my every movement.

I watched, as Lagertha propped herself up next to him, leaning on his shoulder, while Ragnar kissed her temple softly.

I smiled at the two. They were truly made for each other.

Only recently, I had joined their relationship and to say it was awesome, was an understatement. But still, I couldn't bring myself to agree to marry them. Not only were they already happy before me, but they were also absolute chaos. I have no idea, how these two survived so far. Whenever I joined them for literally anything, something went wrong. It was disastrous. If they didn't have each other, one of them would've died at least once by now.

I had no idea if it was because of me or if they were like this on their own too, but the chaos sometimes was too much for me to handle.

And of course, I loved them. I loved being together with them, spending time with them, but marrying them? That is something that never really fitted into my head.

"I will see you later.", I explained, as I kissed them goodbye. Ragnar only nodded, while Lagertha tried to pull me back into bed, but I managed to escape eventually.

"Lagertha, you know I have to help my brother with his shop."

"Oh he can build his boats alone." Ragnar mumbled. I playfully punched his arm.

"Don't talk about your best friend like that!",I scolded them.

"But it's true.", He laughed and layed back down, "Floki is the best boat builder in the nine realms."

"Well, maybe I just like seeing my brother.",I smiled, as I turned around to leave.

"See you later, you two. I love you.", I shouted as I stepped out of the door.

"We love you too, Y/N!", I heard the laughting, as I left their home.

I was making my way over the market of Kattegat, in search of my Brother Floki. But it seemed like he was still at his house, a little bit away from the town.

"Y/N"

I turned around, as I watched Bjorn jogging towards me. I smiled at the young boy and greeted him.

"Hello Bjorn.", I smiled, "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine.",He said and looked at me,"Have you said yes by now?"

"Oh you too now", I sighed, "Why is everybody asking me that today?"

Bjorn smiled at me Apologetic:"Sorry. It's just... I really want to know."

"I didn't say yes so far.", I informed him, "And I won't say yes."

"Why not?", he asked perplexed.

"So, you approve?", I grinned.

"Honestly, my parents are absolute chaos, you're making them a lot more bearable.", he explained.

I chuckled at his words:"Well, thank you. But I still won't marry them."

"Huh",Bjorn huffed, "Its your choice after all. But you won't leave them, right?"

"Gods, no!", I said, "I love them too much for that, I just won't marry them."

"well that's fine by me.", Bjorn said and patted my shoulder,"I'll see you later."

"Yeah, bye", I smiled and watched as he made his way back to the Market.

I was walking alone again. I guess I would be doing that 'till eternity.

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imeanyourmomsprettyhot · 11 months

Text

I Still Hate You || Hvitserk

masterlist

I got the inspiration for this post from this prompt:

"I don't like you, I just find you hot"

════════════════════════

"I knew you'd come back," you laughed, as the tall son of Ragnar entered your room.

"Don't you conceive yourself as being something important!" He spat, as he got closer to the bed you were lying on, "I don't like you, I just find you hot."

Hvitserk pulled you on you legs closer to the edge of the bed, where he hovered on top of you. His lips met yours, and his tongue instantly entered your mouth.

You were the wife of Bjorn Ironside, which was enough reason for the other sons of Ragnar Lothbrok to hate you. But after a strange encounter with Hvitserk the other night, when your husband left with the ships, he started visiting you, even though he clearly told you it was a mistake and that it will never happen again.

He for sure didn't like you, but he liked your body. He liked how your warmth feels around his cock, and he liked the sounds you make while he fucks you.

You loved your husband, you really did. But he was never able to fully please you. Bjorn was always gentle with his women, but you found, you needed the roughness of one of your enemies, to finally cum.

Hvitserk's messy kiss lead to an end, leaving you with an all wet mouth and an even wetter spot between your legs.

He forcefully turned you around, so you were now on all fours—He never wanted to look at your face while he fucked you;he hated you too much for that.

He roughly pulled your dress up and pushed your head down in the pillow, your ass now being on full display. It didn't take long for him to get rid of his pants, and he pushed his whole length inside, a splash of pain rushing through your body.

He didn't let you adjust to his size, he immediately pounded into you in whatever paste he needed right now.

You cunt was drooling over how harsh he treated you, and through the pain, you felt pleasure. The sound of his skin slapping on yours, filled the room up completely, almost covering up your loud moans.

A hard smack landed on your ass cheek, which turned into a dark red shade. You cried out at the sudden pain, but you secretly liked it.

He thrusted into you even harder, hitting your g-spot with full force. It was painful, but it made you even needier. His hand was still hardly pressing down your head in your pillow, keeping you in place.

He smacked your, already red, cheek again, earning a whimper from you, as tears start to form in your eyes. He loved the sound of your cries. He loved seeing you in pain.

Hvitserk's growls got louder and breathier, as you noticed him being close. But he did someone unexpected. He turned you back around, one of your legs being over his shoulder.

He now could enter you deeper, putting you in even more pleasurable-pain.

He stopped pounding for a moment, before another smack hit the side of your face.

"Look at me, you whore!" He commanded, and you did as he said.

His hips started grinding again. He was looking you deeply in the eyes—They were filled with so much anger and hatred.

You had similar sex like this a few times with Bjorn, after you two fought, but it was never close to what his brother did to you.

Your mouth was wide opened, and desperate cries were coming out of it. Hvitserk was soon to cum, as his grunts got heavier, and the thrusts sloppier.

He still hasn't looked away from your eyes, his were deeply focused on yours. His breath became more and more unsteady, while your moans increased with every painful pound that shot through your core.

A few more thrusts was all he needed to release his load all over your stomach, some of it landing on your dress.

The way he treated you like a dirty slut, made you cum right after him, with a loud scream. Hvitserk was able to make you cum, even after he stopped touching you. This was what made you so attached to him.

"You fucking bitch, just look at you," he stood up, pulling his trousers on, "So fucking needy for my cock."

"Please fuck me again," you begged him, breathing heavily.

But he just laughed at you, "I still hate you, you little slut. I don't intend to make you feel good, you understand that?"

He quickly left the room, leaving you alone with the mess he made, still horny and greedily waiting for the next time he visits you.

#smut #vikings smut #hvitserk smut #hvitserk x reader #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk x you #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #vikings fanfic #vikings fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #prompts #writing prompts

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fangirlings-things · 1 year

Text

The reactions of your brothers to you dying in battle headcanons

anon said: Hello may i request a ragnarssons reaction where the little sister dies in battle, a whole cup of sad pls :D (a continuation of the lil sis reaction with the boys where you choose to fight against them)

A/N: hope you enjoy this, love! sorry it took so long 💛

TAG LIST: @maggiescarborough ; @charmingvalkyrie ; @flowers-in-your-hayr

THIS IS A PART TWO TO THESE HEADCANONS

→ Bjorn Ironside

He could not believe it when it happened

He saw from afar, when the warrior on his army made the final blow and sent you to Valhalla

He screamed, and everything else had no matter as all he thought about was to get you

He did reach you and seeing all that blood, your blood, made rage fill the whole of him

Bjorn regretted so much his last words to you, having said awful things when you had exposed your intentions of fighting against him

Now, he had no means of telling you just how much he loved you and was proud of the shield maiden you had become

For the first time in his life, he took no joy in having won a battle

→ Ubbe

Ubbe is in complete shock

He heard you scream and turned to see you on your back on the grass, blood all around you and an arrow coming out of your chest

He dropped on his knees by your side and held your hand tightly as with widened eyes, feeling despair, he tried to figure out what he could do, anything at all, as he watched you drown in your own blood

You forced him a smile as you died and that was it, you had gone to Valhalla and a corner of his mind wished he could follow you already

Living the rest of his life without his little sibling did not seem fair, and he blamed the Gods for it, like he had never before

It was a horrific day and he would never forget it. Everytime he closed his eyes, that moment would come back to him and he would feel that insistent pain on his chest, like he had been the one struck by an arrow, not you

In a way, he died with you on that same day. A part of him sure had

→ Hvitserk

After you had crossed paths in the battlefield and turned away from one another, Hvitserk thought that would be it, that however won, either way you would both still be alright

But when he was stumbling out of that field after the battle was done, his side having won, he stumbled upon your body

And Hvitserk found himself like he had before many times in his life

In denial

He could not react. Could not cry or scream, nothing. He just stared at your lifeless body, your shield broken beside you and a deep wound on your stomach

He walked away in silence, said nothing to no one. Just stood there in the middle of the other victorious warriors like a ghost

Only at night, so far away from everyone else that he could almost hear the troubled thoughts of his troubled mind, he cried

→ Sigurd Snake in the Eye

Even though he had told himself he would do what he had to, when it came to that he could not

Meeting you on the battlefield made him paralyzed and Sigurd found himself without any idea of what to do

You parted ways though, and it was sure in his mind that he would have the victory, but afterwards you would make peace with each other and move pass by it, as siblings would often do

But you did not prevail, and Sigurd did not believe it when he heard such news

He asked to see your body, but the other warriors told him it was impossible, the dead were already being pilled up and taken away. He would never see your face again

Sigurd felt shame, regret and sadness

He wished he had talked you out of that, that he had convinced you to fight with him after all

He had the victory, but he felt like he had failed deeply

→ Ivar the Boneless

He had threatened you when you had said you would fight against him, but as much of what he said when consumed by anger, Ivar did not really mean that

Seeing you be fatally wounded in the middle of the battle made him scream out in pure rage as he rushed to get to you

He killed the warrior who gave you that death sentence, wihout even thinking twice about the fact that thry were fighting on the same side

He pulled you closed to him, cried and sobbed, begging you to not leave him

You had always been close, and you never had thought less of him because of his legs. He loved you deeply for it

Even though you were the one dying, it was you comforted him, and said that you would be waiting for him in Valhalla, feasting with the Gods and your father, Ragnar

When you died, he went back to battle, heart filled with anger and pure hatred in his eyes

He wanted blood, and he would have it

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #headcanons #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #bjorn ironside imagine #ubbe imagine #sigurd snake in the eye imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #hvitserk imagine

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literaryuppsala · 1 year

Note

You could take a shot where the oc is a slave and meets Ubbe while he is married to Margrethe and ends up getting involved with him, and this generates a child. Margrethe goes crazy and begins to threaten oc and her son, when Ubbe finds out about getting angry and protective.

Do you still remember this ask? I hope you do... I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish this, about your other ask, i was thinking i could write not a one shot, but a short fic cause it's so good and it needs details i cant give if its just a one shot, tell me what you think ok? either way, hope you like this one, hope it turned out the way you imagined, enjoy ♥

N/A: mentions of smut, description of violence and child birth, proceed with care.

Minors, don't interact.

“Oh gods!” You moaned one more time.

Your body was bent over the table, gown hiked up on your waist while Ubbe pounded behind you quickly, his hands with a firm grip on your hips while yours held onto the table like your life depended on It. His hips slammed against yours making the sound of skin slapping against skin echo through the walls.

“Sing to me, little bird.” He begged for your moans like he begged every time, like he wasn’t dragging the sounds from you with every thrust of his hips.

You mewled, whined and moaned, gripping at the table with full force while his hands left your hip, rubbed against your back for a moment before taking the knife he still had on the back of his trousers and with one stroke he tore the dress in two, exposing the skin of your back which he rubbed, dragging his hands up your shoulders and pulling you up until your back hit his chest, the new, strange angle, making his cock reach your sweet spot and making you see white stars behind your eyelids.

“I love to hear your singing.” He whispered in your ear while both of his hands grabbed the front of your gown that was already loosened up and pulled down, exposing your breasts to the cold air of your house, your nipples were hard and sensitive when he touched them, tugging at the little nubs with the tip of his fingers. “Sweet, sweet sounds...”

You raised your hands and hugged his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt him speeding up his thrusts, you knew he was close. He grunted low in your ear, dragging you to the edge, making the coil on your lower stomach snap all of a sudden and a loud moan escaped through your lips. He followed close behind, coming inside you for the second time that night, filling you up with his seed.

“How am I supposed to go home now?” You asked as you tried to hold together the rags of your dress.

After straightening out his clothes he covered your shoulders with his fur, protecting your upper body.

“This can’t keep happening.” You mumbled, holding the fur around your body.

“And yet here we are.” He answered, fingers touching your chin, raising your head so you could look him in the eyes. “I can’t stay away from you.”

His touch stayed with you until the next morning, burning on your skin like wildfire.

You couldn’t stay away from him either, answering his calls anytime he asked, melting into his touch every time his hands met your skin. You were incapable of saying no to him, incapable of keeping your distance.

Ubbe was a menace, you knew that since the first time you saw him. Aslaug bought you as a slave and you tried to serve the household in peace, you didn’t want trouble, let alone trouble with the princes, but that was before his gaze followed you around the great hall while you worked, before his eyes always seemed to find you through the crowd, lingering until it became unbearable and you had to look back.

He tried to be subtle about It, tried to hide behind his cup and tried to pay attention to the conversation going around, but at the end of the night, after everyone else was gone, he found you in the kitchen. He would talk to you for hours while you finished your chores, sometimes he even helped you a little. His lingering touches seemed to ignite a fire inside your body and were the end of you, before you knew, you were taken.

“I’m with child.” You said It one night, laying on his chest. He looked at you and smiled big, his eyes sparkling blue when he looked at you.

“The gods had finally blessed me with a child.”

“It’s not a blessing, Ubbe.” You sat down by his side, looking at him. “What am I going to say to everybody?”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m going to take care of you.”

“What about Margrethe?”

“She’s not who I thought she was, I don’t love her.”

“This is not right.” You mumbled.

“Come here.” He asked, holding your hand and pulling you back to his chest, you went with It, hugging his waist while he caressed your hair. “I’ll talk to her. I want you.”

The next day, you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you or noticed the sound of Margrethe’s heavy breathing, but felt a pair of hands pulling on your hair.

“You stole my husband!” She screamed, throwing your body on the floor.

Margrethe dragged you from the kitchen towards the great hall, pulling you by the hair. You screamed trying to get rid of her hands, fearing for the baby growing inside of you

“I will kill you!” Margrethe stated, throwing you in the middle of the great hall, the commotion catching the attention of the other servants who were too scared to do anything and didn’t even understand what was happening.

“Leave me alone!” You screamed.

She sat on your hips, holding your arms under her knees while you struggled under her weight. Margrethe hit you on the face two or three times before someone finally stepped in, taking her body from the top of you. You quickly crawled back away from her, face turned totally red in utter embarrassment, tears gathering on the corners of your eyes as you looked around searching for Ubbe.

“I will never leave you alone.” She screamed back at you. “You will never be free to be with him, you’ll never be happy!”

You ran away from the great hall, tears streaming down your face, clouding your vision, you ran blindly until you bumped into something firm, a pair of hands held your shoulders and you looked up, pale blue eyes looking worriedly at you while trying to calm you down.

“Little bird.” He called you, holding your face between his hands, touching your wet cheeks. “What happened?”

“She cursed me! She said I’ll never be happy!” You whined.

“Who? Margrethe?” He asked with a frown and you nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”

“NO MORE TALKING!” You scolded. “She humiliated me in front of everybody, she cursed me! We should end this before it gets worse.”

“What are you saying?”

“She said she’ll kill me, Ubbe…” You mumbled before moving away from him, untangling your body from his arms. “It’s better If we stay away.”

Months had passed since that talk with Ubbe, Aslaug freed you and helped you run away, gave you a farm where you could hide away from Margrethe, every now and then she would visit to check on you.

“You’re bigger every time I see you.” Aslaug joked, hugging you tightly. “It’s almost time.”

“Yeah…” You smiled shyly.

“Ubbe is worried, he wants to come and see you.”

“I don’t know…” You fumbled through the kitchen while she sat at the table.

“He misses you. It’s been months, Margrethe won’t be a problem anymore.”

“What happened to her?”

“She’s crazy, she’s been talking to herself, wandering.”

“She’s more dangerous then.”

“Ubbe can protect you.”

“What If he sails away?”

“You’ll stay with me.”

You missed him too, missed him so much. Every time the child moved inside your belly, every time it kicked when you talked, you thought about him, about his reaction, he missed so much of your pregnancy already you felt guilty about It, he said he wanted to be part of your life but you closed that door.

“Let him come. He wants to be with you for the birth.” Aslaug insisted and looked at her. “He’s the father of your child and wants to be there for you when the time comes.”

Ubbe came the next morning, you saw him walking towards your house by the beach, his shoulders brushed and head low, he seemed tired and sad, but as soon as his eyes met yours, his face completely lit up and he smiled. You felt warm all over, like your body missed his eyes on you and you gently rubbed your belly while waiting for him to reach you.

“Little bird…” He mumbled, a few feets away from the opened door of your house where you stood waiting for him.

You moved to the side and silently asked him to come in, he obeyed quickly and you closed the door behind his back. When he turned to you, his face was focused on your belly, his arms along his body while he closed his hands in fists, like he was using all his strength to keep himself from touching you.

“I missed you.” He simply said, his eyes following up your body ‘til he found your face. “Are you good?”

“I am.” You answered shyly. “We are.”

He took a few steps towards you and you took the same steps back, his face fell, his smile died on his face.

“Are you?” You asked him and he nodded. “You hungry?” You walked past him and started fumbling in the kitchen. “I can make you something.”

“No… Can we talk?”

“Sure…”

“Little bird… Look at me.”

“What?”

“Sit with me.”

You obeyed, both of you sitting side by side at the kitchen table, he looked at you for a moment and before he said anything his hand reached for your belly, softly touching your swollen frame. Your whole body lit up like a fireplace, like the warmth from his touch was everything you needed, a familiar sensation of relief washed over you when you felt his hand on your body, a sensation you didn’t know you needed until you finally felt it. He rubbed your belly gently and just like magic your baby kicked against his touch, making his face contort with a smile.

“I want you to come back with me to Kattegat.” He simply said, his hand still on you.

“Ubbe…”

“This is nonsense. I love you, you love me, you’re carrying my child, we shouldn’t be away from each other.”

“I-I… What about Margrethe?”

“She’s more dangerous to herself than she is to anybody else.”

“Aslaug told me…”

“You don’t have to hide.”

“She promised to kill me.”

“I will never let anything happen to you.”

You covered his hand with yours and sighed heavily, looking away from his face, trying to avoid his gaze, but he touched your face with his free hand and made you look at him.

“I want our baby to be born where it’s safe, away from the city, away from Margrethe.” You mumbled. “Please.”

Ubbe leaned towards you and held your face with both of his hands, pulling you into a kiss that you happily corresponded, kissing him back. It was different from every other kiss you shared, was sweet and calm, filled with worry. He hugged you tightly and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Please.” You repeated.

He didn’t answer, meaning you would come back to that conversation later, but he didn’t insist on taking you away before the birth.

Ubbe kept coming to visit you everyday until he finally decided to stay with you. You were on the last days of your pregnancy and It could happen at any time when he decided to stay and for the first time you felt like you could raise a family with him. To feel his presence around the farm was everything you ever wished for.

You watched him fondly from the door when you felt a sharp pain on your lower abdomen, making you lean forward with your hands on your belly.

“Ubbe…” You mumbled as you felt something wet coming down your legs. “Ubbe!” You caught his attention, his face dropped and he ran to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he wrapped his arms around you, stopping you from falling to your knees.

“I guess it’s time…” You murmured, looking up at him with a weak smile, he widened his eyes.

“I’ll go find my mother…” He told you while helping you inside, taking you to the bed and helping you while you laid down.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be right back, be strong.” He kissed your forehead and left through the door.

By the time he came back, you were already covered in a thin layer of sweat, your hair glued to your dampen face, cheeks flushed, body trembling. Ubbe appeared one more time by your side and you felt while two delicate hands touched your knees, that’s when you noticed Aslaug’s presence.

“I’m here little bird…” He reassured you, sitting by your side on the bed.

“Ubbe…” You whined.

“You’re going to be alright.” Aslaug told you while holding up the skirt of your dress, exposing yourself to her.

Ubbe held your hand firmly, leaning over you to rub his lips on your wet forehead, covering you in warm praises, telling you how proud he was of you, how strong you were. You used all your strength to push your baby out, your chest moving up and down with your heavy breathing, body arching while you grunted under your breath. Every new push made you scream and cry in pain. He looked from you to his mother, worried It was taking too long.

“One more time, little bird… One more time.”

You pressed his hand with yours and screamed louder than before, almost sitting down ‘til you finally pushed your baby out, his cries filled your home and your ears, and you smiled weakly as you watched Aslaug handing the baby to Ubbe.

“It’s a boy.” She announced proudly and he sat back by your side. “You blessed me with a boy.”

The days in the farm were easy, with your boy growing up stronger each day, you lived the family life you always wanted, to watch Ubbe holding the baby while playing warmed up your heart.

“Mother wants to see him.” Ubbe told you that morning, a tiny smile on his face as he watched while the baby held his big finger.

“She can come anytime she wants, I’ll prepare something for us.” You answered without looking at him.

“She wants us to go to Kattegat.” He told you and you widened your eyes, stared at him in panic. “She told me Margrethe is gone, left for a few months now and no one had known anything about her since then.”

“Are you sure?” You asked suspiciously and he nodded.

It took you a few minutes to digest the information, but you eventually agreed with him and both of you left the farm, your first time since you got there. You were nervous, but Ubbe held your hand the entire time, holding little Æirik in his arms. As soon as you got there, you saw a few familiar faces but you were confident enough to walk by his side, the few weird looks you got were quickly repeled by his firm stare.

Aslaug received you on the great hall and immediately took Æirik in her arms, showing the baby around with the biggest smile, Ubbe sat at the table pulling you into his lap, bringing you into the conversation with his brothers, but you never really stopped following Aslaug around, just checking on her with the baby.

For a moment nothing was really bothering you, the conversation going around was actually very calm, the voices mingling together as you talked to Hvitserk, laughing over a stupid joke he made until you looked around and lost sight of Aslaug.

“Where’s your mother?” You murmured against Ubbe’s ear catching his attention.

“She’s probably back there.” He pointed over the doors to the rooms and you frowned.

“I’m going to see if she’s alright.” You untangled yourself from his arms and walked towards the rooms.

At first you were just confused, looking for Aslaug just to know if she needed any help with the baby, but when you saw her body lying unconscious on the ground, you felt your heart race.

“Aslaug!” You called for her kneeling on her side, turning her body so you could see her face. A deep cut on her forehead letting you know she was hurt by someone else.

You heard baby cries coming from outside and immediately ran to the back door, just in time to watch a silhouette running in the dark. The blond hair was the first thing you noticed, and you knew who that person was.

You came back running to the great hall, screaming on your way to make everybody stop what they were doing.

“SHE TOOK MY BABY!” You screamed in panic, running towards Ubbe who looked at you with a frown. “She hit Aslaug in the head and she took him! SHE TOOK HIM!”

Ubbe got up and held your shoulders, he kissed your forehead before running to the back, his brothers followed him and so did their man. You felt a pair of hands around your body and you looked back, Torvi was hugging you tightly, trying to comfort you as you cried in despair.

Aslaug was brought inside by Freydis who helped her sitting back on her throne, already waking up but still a little dizzy, when her stare finally focused on you she busted out crying, hands reaching for yours as she mumbled:

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

You kneeled in front of her, holding her hands with yours and calmed her down:

“It’s not your fault… It’s not your fault!”

Meanwhile Ubbe ran through the woods followed closely by his brothers and his men, all of them looking for any sign of the baby. When they finally reached the beach, he found Margrethe by the sea, the baby crying in her arms while she looked straight in his eyes.

“Margrethe…” He called her name, slowly walking towards her.

“You left me…” She mumbled, moving her gaze from him to the baby. “You left me for this, because I couldn’t give you a son!”

“No, it’s not like this, please, let’s talk.”

“You wanted a child and I couldn’t give you one, that’s why you chose her.”

“Please, give me him, we can talk through this, don’t hurt him.”

“Hurt him? You think I want to hurt him?”

“Why did you steal him?”

“Wanted to make you see that I can be a good mother too, you can accept me back if we have him! You don’t need the witch, she already gave you a son, I know you love me!”

“Margrethe, give me him, please…”

As Ubbe walked towards her, she took the same steps back, walking into the ocean. He feared for his son’s life, he didn’t want to scare her away.

“Come back to me, please?! Come here…” He opened his arms trying to invite her in. “Come here…”

As she convinced herself he was accepting her call, she walked over to him, a weak smile on her face as she finally had the chance she always wanted. Ubbe received her in his arms, held her and tried to get the baby from her arms, which she allowed. When the baby was finally in his arms, Ivar had her chest under his aim and released the arrow that hit her in the heart. Her body fell back on the water while Ubbe looked at her with widened eyes.

“What have you done?” He asked in shock, looking at Ivar.

“I saved your life, you can thank me later.”

When they finally came back, you ran towards Ubbe who quickly handed you your son, who you hugged tightly against your chest. Heavy tears coating his little head as you kept crying and kissing his face.

“What happened to Margrethe?” You asked between cries.

“She’s gone.” Ivar answered from behind Ubbe’s back and you looked at him in shock.

“Is she dead?” You asked with widened eyes, looking from Ivar to Ubbe and Ubbe nodded. “Is it over?”

“It is.” Ubbe answered before hugging you, rubbing your back and kissing the crown of your head. “It’s over, little bird.”

#vikings fic #vikings au #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ubbe x reader #vikings ubbe #ubbe vikings #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe imagine #ubbe x you #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe

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axelsagewrites · 3 months

Text

Where Am I?*Part Two

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Word count: 3026

Part one here

Masterlist Here

Warnings: time travel being possible, getting chased by vikings, imprisonment

The only thing that was stopping you from going insane so far was Ivar. He’d stayed true to his word and brought you bread and meat later that night which you devoured in seconds, suddenly realising how hungry you were. However, he also brought you mead which was a welcome blessing. But Ivar couldn’t leave it there. He had practically a thousand questions.

You did your best to answer them, but you didn’t exactly have all the wars and political events from the early Viking age to your time memorised to be able to answer them. The company however was refreshing. You’d been in this cage for three days now. Well, that’s what he told you anyway.

Ivar had visited you at least three times a day so far. Ubbe stopped by each day, sometimes with either of the other brothers, but always with a small hunk of bread and soup.

“Here,” he told you this morning as he passed it through the bars though this time, he was alone. He sighed as he watched you take it. “Will you tell me your name?” you had yet to speak to any of the other brothers and Ivar was determined to keep your conversations a secret it seems. “Do you understand me?” Ubbe asked as you bit into the bread.

He pointed to himself, “Ubbe,” he said, jabbing his chest. “My name is Ubbe. What is,” he pointed at you, “yours?”

“Ubbe,” you said pointing at him. he looked shocked that you could speak which made it hard for you not to chuckle, but you supposed that wouldn’t please him.

“Yes,” he smiled, pointing at himself again, “Ubbe. You?” he pointed at you again. You finally decided to give in and tell him your name, “What an unusual name,” he murmured before someone began to call for him. Aslaug you thought. She hadn’t visited you once since your last meeting, but you were oddly grateful for that. “I go now,” he said pointing to himself then the door. “You stay here. I will be back,” he went to leave but paused to add, “We don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t let you go. Not just yet,”

As if you could leave, you wanted to say but you bit your tongue. You weren’t sure how much time had passed between Ubbe leaving and Ivar creeping into the room, but you were grateful to see him, nonetheless.

This time he brought you chicken which was a welcomed gift. “How old are you?” he asked as you ate the food. You told him as you finished the meat, sitting the bone in the bowl. You grimaced however as you moved. “Are you okay? did someone hurt you?” he asked, an anger flaring behind his eyes.

You tried to calm it quickly, “No. only Ubbe visits with food but he never stays long. it just hurts sitting still for so long. my back aches,”

Ivar nodded, seemingly processing and debating something in his mind, “I could let you out,” he offered, though quickly adding, “but you cannot leave. If you do, they will find you. but I could let you move around,”

“Really?” you said desperately, clinging to the bars, “Oh Ivar even just 10 minutes to stretch my legs would do me the wonder of good,”

Ivars eyes narrowed for a moment as he eyed you up and down, “I will let you out,” he finally decided, “but don’t be fooled. I may be a cripple, but I am not dumb,”

“Of course, you’re not dumb Ivar,” you said, honestly a bit shocked by how casually he called himself that.

He nodded, cautiously moving to unlatch the cage. You waited until he shuffled back to let yourself out. You sighed as you stood up, stretching and hearing your joints pop as you did so. “That feels amazing,” you sighed, moving your legs around. “Thank you, Ivar,”

When he visited now, he would let you out during it, staying for longer each time so you could relax your legs. Two more days passed before Ragnar would return. The news came while Ivar was visiting you.

“Ivar! Where are you?” you heard Aslaug call out.

“Go!” he whispers yelled at you, urging you to get back in the cage. You did so quickly, shutting the door, “I’ll be back,” he said, rushing to the door to find his mother before she found him.

However, as the door shut behind him you realised. He hadn’t locked it.

At least an hour had passed, and he still had not returned. The cage lay unlocked. You listened carefully for any noises outside but there was none. Your eyes fell to where your bags sat in the corner. Carefully you opened the cage and crept out.

You padded over to the front door, your legs still feeling stiff as you did so. Pushing it open slightly you peered out. You barely stepped outside as you surveyed the area. You were in a hut on what looked like the near outskirts of town. There were a few other huts around, all bigger than this one, however no one else was here.

Behind you was a forest thick with trees, in front of you was a cliff edge where you could see the classic Viking style boats sailing in. you knew if you went left and followed the path you’d likely end up at the docks or somewhere else populated with Vikings.

You crept back inside and quickly grabbed your bag and opened it. just from going through it quickly you realised it hadn’t been touched. Perhaps they’d been too frightened of what it was to attempt it. you quickly zipped your backpack and put it over your shoulders. You grabbed your guitar bag and put the long strap over your shoulder before creeping back out the hut.

Now that you had stretched your legs there was no way you could go back in that god forsaken cage. Instead, you decided to take the risk and try the forest again. Maybe somehow, you’d trip and hit your head hard enough to snap out of this hellish nightmare.

However, as you went through the woods you realised just how tired your body was from sitting in one position for so long plus the sun was beginning to set. After walking for what you guessed was half an hour you decided to take a break for the night by a small lake you found. You dumped your bags on the ground and sat down on the dirt and sighed a breath of relief. You were free, for now at least.

Ubbe’s pov.

“It’s a good thing fathers back,” he said to his brother Hvitserk who raised an eyebrow at him, “That girl. We can’t keep her like that much longer,” he sighed as he watched his mother talk with his father presumably about the girl judging by their concerned faces.

“She’ll be fine brother,” Sigurd said, “For all we know she’s a witch,”

“I don’t think she is,” Hvitserk said making them both look at him questioningly, “If she was a witch wouldn’t she have well done something to us by now? Or escaped?”

“You all worry too much,” Ivar sighed, and it was hard for Ubbe not to roll his eyes. A random girl in strange clothing shows up out of nowhere not knowing their language and with some weird bag contraption and of course the youngest brother is not even slightly afraid.

Their debates however were quickly ended when Aslaug walked over, “Go fetch the girl. Bring her our home,” she said, her eyes flicking between Ubbe and Hvitserk, “and be discreet about it,” she added in a whisper, “we do not need these men to worry,”

There was only one slight problem, “Where the fuck is she!?”

“Fuck Sigurd was right!”

Both boys sprinted back to the mass gathering of celebrating raiders bragging to all the women and their panic did not go unnoticed, “Mother,” Hvitserk panted as he reached where she stood with Ragnar and Bjorn, “She’s gone. The girl is gone,”

“Who’s gone?” Bjorn asked, his eyes flicking between the group, “What happened while I was away?”

Your pov

You sat beside the small fire you’d managed to create and mentally thanked yourself for buying a lighter that day, so you didn’t have to rub sticks together. you had also gone through your back and found some sweets you had bought. However, you only let yourself half a couple to ration them out however you did gulp down the water you had.

Your phone however was still acting up so to entertain yourself you decided to take out your guitar and strum a couple songs quietly, singing under your breath. However even that got boring. Your stomach also began to growl so you decided to eat one of the granola bars you’d pact. Thank god you’d time travelled on a day you’d actually been prepared you laughed to yourself.

Eventually you’d even tried to skip stones to pass the time but that also grew tiresome. Soon you were sat in front of the fire, bored out your mind, flicking your lighter on and off.

Ubbe pov

“We should just grab her,” Sigurd whispered to Ubbe and Hvitserk as the three stared at the girl through the trees.

Ubbe was honestly half disappointed she hadn’t run further away all things considered. However, he was glad to be the one that had found her. “Okay,” he said, nodding his head as he tried to think of the best way to do it since last time you had outrun them for an embarrassingly long time. “On the count of- “

“Wait,” Hvitserk said, flying his arm across his brother’s chest to stop them, “What is she doing?” he said before all three boys jumped back, “Is she holding fire?”

“I think she’s creating it,” Sigurd whispered, his eyes growing wide, “I’m not getting burned to death by a witch!” he whispers yelled at them.

Ubbe felt his blood run cold. “Its okay,” he said quietly, knowing full well it was not okay that their prisoner had escaped and could now control fire, “Sigurd go run and get father and once we have back up, we will grab her. we will stay watch,”

“Can I go instead- “Hvitserk tried to ask but Ubbe shot him a glare. Hvitserk nodded before turning to Sigurd, “Well hurry up then!” he whispers yelled at him before his eyes turned to glue themselves back onto the prisoner who was now turning fire off and on in her hand.

Ivar’s pov

He didn’t know what was worse. The fact he’d accidentally let you escape or the fact he didn’t think you would have run. Now he was sat with his father, mother and older brother who know all anxiously waited in the great hall for his other brothers to hopefully return with you.

Bjorn had wanted to send out multiple search parties, but Aslaug had convinced him and Ragnar to try keep this as quiet as possible, so they only told the highest-ranking men. However, that was clearly going to change by the way Sigurd sprinted into the room.

“We found her,” he panted, “but there’s a problem,” he announced which made everyone in the hall stop their chatter.

“Well, what is it?” Bjorn asked, standing from his chair. “What has she done?”

Ragnar had been sat back in his chair the whole time, not fully believing this girl could be some kind of threat. That was until Sigurd spoke, “We found her holding fire,” several gasps came from around the room.

“What do you mean holding fire?” Ragnar asked, sitting up suddenly, “What did you see?”

“She was making fire appear in her hand. We saw it with our own eyes,”

“Where is she? Take me to her,”

Your pov

By now it was dark, and the fire was still burning pretty well considering you’d never done one before. you’d decided however to stash the lighter back in your bag since you weren’t going to figure out how to light one from scratch anytime soon. Now you were laying down a foot or so from the fire with your eyes shut.

Even though the whole situation was absolutely terrifying there was something oddly peaceful about this moment. You could hear owls hooting and the wind grazing through the leaves and a crackling fire. It was calm and serene. The only reason you even sat up was to stop yourself from being lulled asleep.

However, as you did you felt your blood run cold at the sight of two Viking men with a sack and a rope creeping towards you. “Fuck!” you tried to scramble to your feet but as you tried to run you felt one grab your wrist and a bag was forced over your head.

You weren’t sure where they were taking you or why they felt the need to tie your hands together in front of you, but you knew one thing. This couldn’t be good.

You weren’t sure how far you had walked but you knew your legs hurt and they men forcing you along did not slow down even when you would trip and almost fall. Without a warning the bag was ripped off your head and one of the men grabbed your shoulders tightly to stop you from running.

Your eyes went wide when they met with the bright blue eyes of Ragnar Lothbrok. Surely you had went insane. “Who are you?” he asked, stepping closer to examine you better, “What are you?” he asked as your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It looked like some kind of village hall, and it was filled with the most terrifying looking Vikings you had ever seen in your life. Which to be fair was very few till now. However, your eyes soon caught another blue pairs gaze. “Ivar,” you whispered, “Help me please Ivar tell them I didn’t do anything,” you soon began to beg when you noticed every single man in the room had their hand on the hilt of their weapons.

“How do you know my son?” Ragnar yelled, stepping closer, “Who sent you here?”

“No one I swear I haven’t done anything please,” your voice grew higher, and your eyes looked around the room in a craze. Soon they fell on the other three brothers who were now looking at Ivar with very concerned looks. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me,” you pleaded to Ubbe who’s eyes grew somehow wider than your own.

“I don’t,” he said, stepping forward making Bjorn glare at him. Bjorn, you suddenly realised, as in Bjorn ironside aka someone you really did not want glaring at you right now, “Father please. she hasn’t done anything,”

“She was holding fire,” Bjorn spat at his brother as Ragnar stepped back from you as if in some kind of internal debate.

Your face however scrunched up in confusion, something Ragnar seemed to take note of, “No I wasn’t!” you protested, searching for some kind of explanation when it suddenly clicked, “It was a lighter. I was using a lighter I swear I didn’t hold fire it was just a lighter,”

Silence fell across the room as Ragnar turned to look at you, “What is a lighter?”

You sighed. How the hell where you supposed to explain this without sounding like a witch? “It’s a device where I’m from that produces a flame but that’s all. It isn’t dangerous,”

You weren’t sure if they believed you. Ragnar stepped back to speak to his eldest son who whispered something in his ear while his eyes were fixed on you. Ragnar nodded before stepping forward again, “Show us this ‘lighter’,” he said.

“Its in my bag. I don’t know where it is,” you said just as one of the men behind you shoved the bag into your hands as quickly as possible. You wanted to roll your eyes but decided now wasn’t the best time. you crouched down with the bag and tried to unzip it as quickly as possible with your hands tied together.

Ragnar however took a step away from you as you searched in the bag. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you and finally you found it and stood back up. “See?” you said, flicking the flame on making them all jump back. You took your finger off the button so it would go away making them gasp, “Here. You try,” you offered it to Ragnar.

He went to reach for it, ignoring his wives protests as he took the plastic into his hand. “What do I do?” he said, looking the thing over.

“Press that down,” you tried to reach to show him, but he flinched from your touch, “Sorry,” you mumbled.

Ragnar narrowed his eyes at you before turning his attention back to the lighter. He took a deep breath and pushed it down. The flame sparked. The men in the room gasped, Ragnar jumped making the flame disappear, but a smile found its way onto his face. He tried it again, “Did the gods give you it?” Aslaug called over to you.

“No,” you said as you looked to her, now feeling more confident in your speech, “but where I’m from we have lots of things like this,”

“Is it magic?” a random man called out.

“No,” you said as Ragnar continued to play with the lighter before passing it to Bjorn. “I don’t have magic,” you were tempted to point out that magic wasn’t real but at this point who knew what was real, “it’s just science,”

Before anyone could question what that was Ragnar finally decided to speak after Bjorn had just burnt his finger trying to test if the flame was real, “Untie her hands,” he said and another man, Floki you somehow recognised, tried to protest but Ragnar spoke again, “You are no longer our prisoner but a guest. The gods have sent you to us and it is high time we showed you our hospitality,”

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istorkyou · 6 months

Text

A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3113

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73 @meandmycherrytree

Masterlist

Chapter 14 - Final Chapter

He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.

He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.

One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.

A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.

“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”

He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.

When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.

Coming home. Too dangerous now.

See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.

He texts back quickly.

Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.

As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.

Always and forever, no matter how far apart.

———————

He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.

”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.

Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”

Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”

“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”

Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”

“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”

———————

He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.

The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.

“Alone?”

“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.

“I missed you so much, Liet.”

“Fuck I missed you so much too.”

They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.

Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”

“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”

Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.

It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.

When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.

“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.

They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.

“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”

“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”

“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”

Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.

“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”

“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”

A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”

“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”

Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.

She is ready now.

Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.

“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”

He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.

“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”

His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.

The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.

“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”

“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.

She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”

“Tell me more about him, baby.”

They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.

“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”

“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”

“8 hours.”

“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”

Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.

————————-

9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.

They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.

“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”

He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”

They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.

—————————

His phone beeps dead on 11am.

Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.

He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.

“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.

“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”

“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”

Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”

Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.

Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”

——————-

Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.

But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.

He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.

His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.

“Liet?”

She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.

“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.

————

The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.

“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”

“I can see that.”

“Shall I take the shot?”

“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.

Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”

—————

Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”

Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“In the next life, love,” she says

“Always and forever,” he replies.

She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.

———-

“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”

Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.

———-

Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.

The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.

He will be the best father to their son

For her.

His beautiful Liet.

FIN.

#modern ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #modern vikings #ubbe #modern!ubbe #modern!hvitserk #ivar x oc #vikings fanfic #vikings imagine #vikings au #vikings ivar #ivar vikings #ivar #ivar smut #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine

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lavender-romancer · 2 years

Text

Bruised

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Ivar loves war more than you

CW: arguments, swearing, slight smut and submissive Ivar, anger, aggression

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Even though he was your betrothed, you knew that you'd always be second best in Ivar's head and you just had to accept it. Whilst you had no say over the marriage there was no use being bitter, he was obsessed with war and blood. You yourself were also a warrior but you were pregnant and couldn't risk the date of their heir in such a careless way but, Ivar didn't share your anxiety towards death. He only thought of Valhalla, his obsession with becoming a warrior and dying noble and brave was taking its toll on you and you didn't know how to tell him it was happening because of him.

"I made some beautiful kills today, my love." Ivar grinned as he came into your quarters, you were laid back on the pillows cradling your ever growing stomach bump.

He was covered in blood, hadn't even spared a moment to wipe his face and you hated how attractive you found him in this high-testosterone state. Ivar was way too excited to realise how clean your night dress was as he lay a hand over your stomach and just smiled up at you. His sweet face sending a warm feeling to your stomach because you knew he was home safe, at least for now.

"Be careful, my love. No pressing, I think she's sleeping." You put your hand on top of his gently.

"Ah, she will be a strong girl like her mother with more need for sleep than the normal person!" He joked and you slapped him on the head lightly with a laugh.

"No matter how excited you are you always find time to discuss my sleeping habits don't you, dearest?" You raised an eyebrow and Ivar giggled. He climbed up onto your bed and thrust off his tunic that was spattered with blood on the sleeves. He grabbed a cloth from beside the bed and cleaned his face, seeming to have woken up from all the excitement and realising how clean you were.

"I'll always be happy to discuss how much sleep you require, plus making a little bit of fun toward you is always my favourite pastime." Ivar leant on your breasts, holding the other in his hand as you stroked his hair.

"Someone's comfortable, hmm?" You asked and he hummed a yes into your chest, enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Pregnancy has made these bigger, I'll have to get you pregnant again so I can enjoy it once more." He kissed both your breasts and then your lips as you hit him on the head again.

"You're a dirty man, my betrothed. Not even married me and already filled me with a child." You looked down at him lovingly, your anxiety calmed as soon as he walked in the door and you knew it wasn't healthy for the baby but you didn't know what you'd do if he was seriously hurt.

"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.

"Don't leave me again, okay?" You held him close to you and squashed him against your body and closed your eyes.

"You know I can't agree to that." Ivar whispered and you sighed, not saying anything else "Y/n, you knew what I was when you accepted my proposal. I am a Ragnarsson, I am born to do this and have a right."

You still said nothing and you knew the child growing in you made your emotions go into a concentrated form whenever you felt something but you couldn't deal with it anymore. You pushed him away from you and turned over in bed, hugging yourself and staying silent.

"Y/n, please." Ivar sounded desperate but you couldn't see his blood spattered body right now, you couldn't deal with the reminder that Ivar would be gone by the morning.

Ivar sighed and turned over, back to you as he slowly went into a deep sleep. You sat up and lit a candle by your bed, you started circling your hand over your stomach.

"You're going to be perfect, and no one will ever hurt you. You're going to stay with me and learn new languages and arithmetic and how to govern. I don't know if you'll meet your father, but I will always be here to keep you safe, little one." You were whispering but Ivar heard every word and it sent a pang of pain to his stomach, he felt too unwillingly guilty.

Ivar craved war, he craved death by battle and yet he wanted you and wanted to be with you constantly. He wanted a lazy morning with you, massaging your aching back and falling asleep on your chest. Ivar wanted to kiss you, he wanted to kill, he wanted to give you love but he needed to vanquish all who dared test him and his rule.

You were smiling down at your stomach, imagining when he or she would be in your arms after however long and hard the birth would be. It would all be worth it to hold their delicate little body in your arms and feel that connection that you had felt immediately with Ivar. You missed that immediate connection you made with Ivar, you knew that you already had it with this baby even though they weren't here yet. The moment you'd met Ivar you knew you had to speak to him more, you had to find out everything about him and couldn't sleep without thinking of him. Even though he didn't seem to want you anymore you still craved him and conversations with him, your love for your betrothed was unmistakable and unmatched. Until this baby was born there was no one you loved more than Ivar.

Ivar suddenly turned over and sat up next to you, it made you jump slightly but his next movements were slow. He shuffled over and leant his head on your shoulder, laying a hand over yours on your stomach and gripping it. He kissed your shoulder and stayed quiet, just holding you and your stomach gently showing his affection through touch. Ivar had never been good with words when it came to gentleness or affection, he was so much better at physical representations of it.

"I'm sorry." Ivar whispered and you leant your head on his.

"It's okay, angel." You kissed the top of his head and he turned his face to look at yours with tears in his eyes.

The blood still clung to his cheeks and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable next to you that you struggled to not take him into your arms and never let him leave. But you knew you couldn't control him and you couldn't make him stay.

"I'm not good for you, I just cause you stress and I… I just can't fucking say what I want to and I just- fuck," he paused "I love you. I love you so much and fuck I just loose all my words when it's only you with me. I'm so enchanted by you, my love."

"We both know you're not always the best with words but you have your moments. That was lovely." You smiled softly and leant forward till you were nose to nose with Ivar.

"You're just trying to make me laugh now." Ivar smirked and you blushed, unable to hide your intentions. You loved seeing him smile.

"Yeah and so what?" You slowly kissed him and Ivar held your face with one hand and kept the other hand on your stomach.

"I will never let anything bad happen to either of you," Ivar said quietly as you drew apart and rested your foreheads together "You are my world, my night sky full of stars, my sea full of creatures, my reason for being. I have never cared for a person the way I care for you, never take my need for war as a dismissal of you and your feelings."

You closed your eyes and wiped your eyes, unable to control your emotions and how your hormones amplified everything. You missed him so much day to day that moments like these were so treasured.

"Don't cry, my love. You are brave and so am I, I will never die because the Gods do not want it. The Seer told me so." Ivar stroked your cheek.

"I do not cry for myself or for you, I cry for our unborn child. What if they never meet you? What if they never know your care or your love?" You pulled away from Ivar a bit and wiped your eyes and your nose again.

"I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar and Aslaug, I was cursed at birth to live a life of suffering and hopelessness and yet I am King. I am unmistakably the ruler of Kattegat and respected by kingdoms str thing across our great lands. Our child will be blood of my blood, they will be as battle hungry as me and as respected as I. Regardless of their troubles they will feel our love, they will know their importance in this world." Ivar held your face in both of his hands and you smiled at him before kissing his cheeks one by one.

"They will be your blood and better for it. I just long for you, it's selfish and I know it is but I can't help my need for you." You looked longingly into Ivar's eyes and another sharp pain hit Ivar's stomach as he thought about you missing him.

"I just wish you could turn your mind off whilst I am away, that you could separate your anxiety from your general thoughts because I will always come back to you." Ivar whispered, leaning the side of his head against the headboard.

"If only I could believe you." You smiled sadly and Ivar looked away from your eyeline, he was ashamed.

"I cannot give you guarantees. I know that that isn't good enough and I know that you need more than that but this is who I am. Maybe it's healthier for both of us to have more realistic opinions of each other at least for now." Ivar looked at you sympathetically and you hated it, like you were some cooped up lover who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"So I can't expect you to be better? I can't want you to be more supportive and more present in our relationship and your relationship with this baby? What about when they're born and you won't even be there? They won't even know their father!" You yelled, your face getting hot with anger and frustration.

"Oh for fuck, this is ridiculous! You knew who I fucking was! You knew and yet you still carried on. You knew you could get pregnant, you knew we'd get married and yet you just fucking expect something else from me!" Ivar screamed back and your eyes started welling up, you stood up and walked away from the bed, back facing him.

"I don't want to see you when I wake up. Don't fucking come back for all I care, if you love war more than me and your child then what the fuck are you even doing here." You said in a calm voice, not willing to let him see you cry.

"Maybe I fucking will, maybe I'll be fucking dead tommorow! You'd love that wouldn't you, fucking slut making me get you pregnant so you could hold all this shit on me!" He yelled it with so much malice you had to grit your teeth together behind your closed mouth, holding back so much aggression because you couldn't fight him and keep your baby safe.

"You're a fucking bastard, Ivar. Stop acting like I'm a whore! I'm no thrall, I'm not one of you little one night stands who doesn't deserve anything from you, my king. I'm a fucking Princess in my own right, I owe you nothing! We both knew I could get pregnant and we both knew we would be married if it happened. You said you loved me, you fucking said it first you… you fucking…" you trailed off, unable to finish because your head was so scrambled. What was he saying?

"You're not worth the breath I used to shout at you, so what if I said it first?! You fucking entrapped me! You made me love you with all your treatment of me and stupid fucking affection. Of course I had to get out and go to war because you were turning me into something I wasn't!" Ivar yelled his eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed in an anger induced state. You turned around to face him

"Yeah that's right. I made you fall for me. Just like how I made myself love you, listen to yourself, Ivar. You're not thinking straight, I thought you loved this child? I thought you loved this relationship but God, what are we anymore?" You let a tear drop down your cheek as you held your stomach with one hand and your back with the other. You wished your baby was big enough to start kicking so you didn't feel so alone.

Ivars' expression changed, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes softened as he realised what he'd said and what he couldn't take back. He knew what he'd done, he knew he'd disregarded your own sacrifices and disrespected you repeatedly. You were carrying his fucking child and yet he couldn't offer you even an ounce of respect. He asked too much of you, he would leave you for weeks at a time and only send letters every now and then. Before you were pregnant he would send you letters and send for you like a dog because he missed your touch and your kind words and now…now you were standing in front of him tears streaming holding your child in your hand.

Ivar crawled forward on the bed and three his legs around to be hanging off the side. He held out his hand to you and you took it with the hand holding your back. Ivar would give you the fucking moon if he had too, to win back your trust because he didn't mean any of it. He just missed your presence, your love and your affection that he had cursed you for not so long ago. As you stepped closer to him you went in-between his legs that had fallen apart, he leant his head gently on your stomach with the side of his face and stroked your stomach with his hand.

This unexpected tenderness made you well up, you had to look up to stop yourself from sobbing because you had missed this so much it hurt. Placing a hand on his head you stroked his hair gently and Ivar closed his eyes, taking in your scent and how in love with you he really was. He was so undeserving of love in his own opinion that he pushed it away without a moment's thought toward the consequences of his harsh words.

"I'm so sorry. I will be better, I will do better, I will be better." Ivar sounded like he was crying and you snaked your hand round to be under his chin, slowly lifting it up and seeing tears in his eyes.

He looked up at you with tearful puppy dog eyes and you fell in love with him all over again. You wanted to slap him, tell him he was a cunt for talking to you that way but violence wouldn't help anything so you just stroke his cheek with your thumb as you hand held his face. Ivar put his arms around your legs and hugged you close to him before kissing your bump.

"I don't understand why you treat me the way you do, but fuck…I know you love me. You have to be better, I can't take it especially when stress can impact the baby. I just can't do it anymore." You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and went back to looking at Ivar who had started sobbing and then dropped to the floor his legs apart as he dragged himself to bend his knees. You tried to help him up but he stopped you, holding your skirts he looked up at you with wet eyes.

"I beg for your forgiveness, I beg for your love, I beg for you to be my wife. I will fucking beg and keep myself in pain for as long as is necessary because I can't loose you." Ivar let out a sob and you couldn't help but let your mouth open slightly. He had never shown such vulnerability, such willingness to change. The King was on his knees begging for you to be his. You knelt down in front of him and took his face in your hands, kissing him softly and tasting salt mixed with copper and ale. It was quite a horrific mix on your tongue but you didn't care, you needed to be close to him.

Ivar put a hand on your ass and pulled you closer to him as one of your hands went round his neck and put pressure on both sides slightly. You'd learnt pretty quickly in your sexual relationship that Ivar didn't always enjoy being in control and loved submitting. It wasn't an overtly sexual interaction more of a powerplay, he knew that you were in charge and let you do whatever you wanted. You began to kiss his neck softly as he whimpered near your ear.

"I fucking love you." He whispered to you and you choked him harder, his head rolling backwards as he moaned.

"I know you do, Angel," You licked the lobe of his ear and heard his breath shudder slightly. "If you ever talk to me like that again, I will never touch you like this ever again." You withdrew your touch from him and he nodded, you slapped him and raised your eyebrow.

"Y-yes I understand." He whispered looking up at you adoringly and you smiled.

Helping him get his knees out of the uncomfortable position and be straight out in front of him you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead "I love you." He told you and you believed him, he trusted you so deeply.

"Now come here." You gently pulled his head to lean on your chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and started crying softly, you could tell how remorseful he felt and how much he regretted what he had done.

"I'm staying with you tomorrow." Ivar whispered against your breasts and you smiled, stroking his hair slowly.

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

AN: I'm very happy to do more Ivar imagines if anyone wants any. I haven't written Vikings in like three years but still adore it xx

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vikingschristiansff · 4 months

Text

Chapter Thirteen

Since the weddings Hvitserk had become determined to find out why Elsie was so angry with him. She no longer cuddled with him, instead keeping her body as close to the edge of the bed as possible. She ignored him throughout the day, and would pretend to already be asleep when he came home. After days of this Hvitserk had enough. Fairly drunk, he stumbled into their home where again, Elsie was pretending she was asleep. Hvitserk angrily tossed the furs off of her, turned her over so that she was laying on her back and crawled on top of her. He hovered menacingly over her.

“What do you want?” Elsie snarled through clenched teeth.

“Why are you behaving like a child?” Elsie almost gagged from the stench of alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “We were happily married a few days ago, now you despise me. What happened?”

Elsie gave him a look of disgust, refusing to answer his question. “TELL ME,” he scream.

“I saw you with the slave. The blonde one. I am not stupid, as I said before my affection for you was a momentary lapse in judgement. This isn’t a marriage, it a business arrangement. And I think, from now on, we should keep it as such.”

Hvitserk's demeanor softened, and he rolled off of his wife so he was now sitting beside her. “I didn’t know that would hurt you, and I will never do it again. Not with Margarethe, not with anyone.”

“No need. I don’t care what you do. I’m not hurt, I’m not angry. I know what men do, Scottish men have mistresses all the time. It’s just… my father didn’t and growing up I was promised a marriage like my parents. I forgot that promise was broken when my father made his deal with Bjorn.” With that, she tucked herself back under the furs and turned her back to her husband to go to sleep. Hvitserk, however, didn’t get much sleep that night.

* * * *

Olivia sat upon a boulder, drawing a landscape of Kattegat. However, her peacefulness was soon interrupted.

“Hello Princess Olivia,” Cella said. Olivia remembered her, she was the thrall that dressed her for the Viking wedding.

“Hello Cella. Can I help you?”

“Prince Sigurd has ordered me to accompany you throughout the days. He said you were lonely and having a hard time adjusting to life here.”

Olivia just smiled and nodded. She knew what Sigurd was doing, having Cella with her all day everyday would deter her from having a friendship with Harald. She felt the anger boil within her but she kept a calm demeanor, not wanting to take her emotions out on someone as sweet as Cella.

Olivia waited up for Sigurd to come home that night.

“Why are you still awake?” He asked when got into their bed.

“Is having a thrall become my shadow really necessary?”

“You’re the one who wants someone to talk to,” he smirked.

“I don’t understand you!” Olivia stood from the bed and began to shout. “You don’t want me and yet you won’t allow me to even speak to another man!”

Sigurd stood up as well. “I don’t need you being seen constantly with King Harald! Embarrassing me! Making a fool out of me!”

“You make a fool out of me everyday! You are always with Margarethe!” She spill out the thralls name with vitriol. “If you hate me so much, why don’t spend your nights with her as well!”

“I will!” Sigurd grabbed his clothes and stormed out of their house, slamming the door behind him.

* * * *

Per request from Ivar, Aslaug and Bridget began to spend time together. Aslaug hated Bridget, and Bridget hated her back. Aslaug insisted Bridget was a bad wife and was not keeping Ivar happy. And of course, it was Bridget’s fault that she was not with child.

Bridget had to bite her tongue form tell her mother-in-law that Ivar lacked the skill to make a baby and it was most certainly not her fault. They hadn’t tried again since the wedding night, Ivar was too scared of being embarrassed again. Instead each night he had his wife hold him tightly like she did that night. He found calmness and comfort in her arms, though she could not say the same.

* * * * *

Lagertha decided it was important to teach Leith sword fighting. It was not going well, but they were both enjoying their time together.

Once again Lagertha knocked the sword out of Leith’s hand. “You are excellent with the shield, but you lack strength.” She grabbed Leith’s thin arm, that was sore beyond belief, and let it flop back to her side, making both of the women laugh. Ending their lesson, they took a seat to catch their breathes.

“How is your marriage going, Bjorn is a lot like his father in some ways, so I’m sure it is not easy?”

Leith thought for a moment. “I think, for an arranged marriage, it is going well.”

“But?” Lagertha questioned.

“It is just still very awkward,” Leith paused, thinking if she wanted to say what was on her mind. “I fear — Bjorn may not like me. I would like us to be friends, to make this situation easier.”

“Oh darling,” Lagertha laughed. “Trust me, Bjorn likes you. Perhaps even more.”

Lagertha’s words lingered in her mind the rest of the day. Leith knew she and Bjorn needed to have an honest conversation when he returned home that night.

* * * * *

“I am sorry for accusing you the other night. I should have trusted you when you said you were with your sister.”

Greer turned in bed to her other side, becoming face to face with her husband. “Why didn’t you?”

“I do not have the most experience with women emotionally. I was worried about you, and I —,” Don’t let that Christian make you stupid brother. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Greer smiled, pulling her Halfdan in for a kiss.

* * * * *

Ubbe had left for the day when Isla went into labor. Thralls flooded their house, preparing everything they needed and shouting instructions at Isla. The pain, the chaos, the noise was all too much for her. She mustered her strength and pushed the women out of the room, locking the door behind them.

“Princess Isla, open the door!” The eldest thrall, Agnes shouted and banged on the door. “We need to help you! The baby is coming early it is dangerous!”

Isla let out another agonizing scream, “I will do it myself! I do not want anyone to help me! I do not need help! AHHHHH!”

Agnes continued to banging, “Princess, if you do not open the door I will get your husband to break it down!”

“I am not letting anyone in here!”

Isla didn’t hear Agnes tell another thrall to go find Ubbe and tell him what was happening.

“AHHHHHHH!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Gifs not mine

It's been like 3 years so I don't now if anyone will read this...my laptop broke and I finally got a new one!

@browneyed-babyy @ivarthebloodyking @heavenly1927 @darkwhisperswolf @-thatgirloverthere- @mdlady @anteatingbitchlizard

#vikings fanfic #vikings #bjorn ironside #halfdan #halfdan the black #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk #sigurd #king harald #harald finehair #vikings imagine

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