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#vikings ivar the boneless fanfic
crowwritesaway · 6 months
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Ivar the Boneless x Female Reader Pt.3
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You and Ivar were sitting on the sand. A cold breeze could be felt. You smiled; the moon looked pretty. There was no screaming. No criticism. No one to belittle you. Ivar glanced at you. She looks so beautiful.
"Thank you.” You mumbled, resting your head on your knees. Ivar hummed. He knew better than to correct you. Although he wanted to remind you that he would give you the moon if it pleased you.
“I don’t know how to say what’s on my mind. I want to tell you everything but it hurts too much to even talk about it.” Ivar nodded, he understood. From what he saw and heard from you, your family wasn’t the kindest and were always unforgiving when it came to making a mistake. You were the youngest. You had shoes to fill in. You had to be perfect. No room for excuses.
Ivar softly rubbed his hand on the back. “Sometimes, I feel like quitting.” You felt your phone vibrate. You reached down and took out your phone.
Ivar tutted, snatching your phone. “No. This night is all about you. They can fuck off.” “But..” You glanced over at Ivar. He narrowed his icy blue eyes at you and it didn’t last too long because he softened his gaze.
“Let’s enjoy ourselves. Even if it’s just for tonight.” He whispered, staring into your eyes. You shyly looked down at your hands. I guess I can do it. For fuck sakes. I deserve this. Just for tonight. Consequences be damned.
“Hey.” He softly called out. He reach over and grasped your hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” You licked your lips. “I know.”
He playfully nudged you. You scoffed. “Ivar!” You playfully scolded him. He always liked shoving you around. He also had the habit of putting his arm around your shoulder.
“Shh…look.” He pointed at the night sky. The moon reflected off the ocean. It was a beautiful sight. He saw you turn to stare and smirked. He laid his head on your shoulder. You felt a pressure on your right shoulder. You glanced down and looked down to see Ivar snuggling into your side.
“It’s cold. I don’t you to be cold.” You laughed. Sure. Whatever make you happy. You went to let go of his hand. “No..” He pouted, refusing to let go.
“Such a baby.” You sarcastically said, uncrossing your legs. “Hmmm…your baby.” He huskily said, biting his lip. You could feel the heat on your cheeks.
“For now. For all we know, I could meet someone.” Ivar’s thumb caressed your hand. “As if some low life could take you away from me. It’s you and me.” Ivar said, knowing that anyone who tried to take you away from him would have to go through him. He wrapped his arm around your waist. You relaxed. Tension leaving your body. Moments like this made you feel alive. Appreciated. Loved. Seen. One of many reasons, no one could replace Ivar.
“Where should we go next?” Ivar asked. He would go anywhere with you. “A club.” You said, without thinking. He sat up, removing his head from your shoulder. “A club. Sounds like fun.” He thought about it. He could take you to a club that he always wanted to take you to. “How’s your legs?” You asked, glancing down at his braced legs. Without much thought, Ivar replied, “They’re fine. I’m not in pain if that’s what you’re asking.” “That’s good. I’m happy.”
You looked down at your outfit. “Perhaps a movie night.” Ivar looked at you. “Why?” “I’m not dressed for the occasion.” “I’m Ivar. Who’s going to refuse you? They should know better.”
It was true. Ivar was notorious for getting anything he wanted. Whatever you wanted was whatever he wanted too. So, if word got out that someone mistreated you, he would be livid and make sure whoever disrespected you would pay the rightful price for hurting you.
“True.” You thought back a time when you were in school. Someone in your group had stressed you out. They wanted you to do everything. Ivar saw you frown constantly. He noticed that you had bitten your nails. He was worried. You could get sick if you kept stressing yourself out. He arranged someone to visit your class. The person reported back to him about the group situation.
Ivar was furious. Livid. Fuming. No one treats his best friend like that. Who did they think they are? He took care of it like he always did. He had a talk with them. It was solved. No ifs nor buts. He knew it was done when he saw you gushing over the little things that would go unnoticed when your mind was preoccupied with something or someone.
“Come on. Let’s go. We can change if you want. Let’s go to the shopping center.” Ivar said, trying to convince you. You pursued your lips. “Fine. Let’s do it.” Ivar cheered, taking out his phone. He sent a message. “It’s ready. Let’s go to the car.” You and Ivar got up. You dusted off the sand. “Come on.” You and Ivar walked off, hand in hand.
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starogeorgina · 10 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.01
“Ivar!”
“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”
“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”
“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”
“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.
Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.
You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”
“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”
Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.
“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”
“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”
“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”
Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.
It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.
You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.
It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.
Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.
“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.
You shrug.
“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”
Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”
Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”
“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”
“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”
A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”
Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.
“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.
Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.
“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”
“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”
His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”
“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”
“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”
You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”
Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.
“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.
Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”
Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”
Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”
He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.
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zapreportsblog · 7 months
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings
✭ summary : ivar has always thought of himself to be a failure of a man, his legs did not work like an normal man, his prick did not work. The only thing he was good for was being a prince and a warrior though he wasn’t all that good at being even those in his eyes, but then along came a woman. One so pure, so beautiful she looked to be a goddess amongst men. And with those sweet words she spoke “I will bare you many sons ivar the boneless.”
✭ authors note : I have requests closed as y’all seen but it’s only temporarily, haven’t really been up to writing and seeing as how I had many ideas in mind for stories I thought fuck it let’s try again
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The morning sun cast a golden glow over the great hall of Ivar's family estate, illuminating the long wooden table laden with bread, cheese, and freshly caught fish. Ivar sat at the head of the table, his older brother Sigurd to his right. As usual, Sigurd couldn't resist testing his patience.
"Good morrow, brother," Sigurd teased, a wicked glint in his eye. "Have you finally learned how to eat without spilling half your breakfast on your tunic?"
Ivar clenched his jaw, determined to keep his composure. Their sibling rivalry had existed for as long as he could remember, and it showed no signs of waning. He forced a strained smile. "I'm making progress, Sigurd, unlike some."
Before the exchange could escalate further, the heavy wooden doors of the great hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A thrall, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, stumbled into the room. The hushed conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to the intruder.
Ivar rose from his seat, ready to reprimand the thrall for her lack of decorum, but before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees, her head bowed low.
"Forgive me, my lords," the thrall panted, her voice trembling. "I bring urgent news."
Ivar exchanged puzzled glances with Sigurd. Urgent news was a rarity in their peaceful corner of the world. He gestured for the thrall to continue.
She raised her head, revealing wide, terrified eyes. "Freya herself has come and blessed us. She walks among us."
The words hung in the air like a spell, and a collective gasp swept through the hall. Ivar's skepticism wrestled with the growing sense of anticipation. Gods did not simply descend from the heavens to walk among mortals.
Before he could question the thrall further, the great hall erupted into chaos. The guests and servants rushed toward the entrance, shoving past each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the so-called Freya. Ivar, however, moved reluctantly through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.
And there she stood, in the center of the throng, an ethereal vision that defied belief. Freya, if that truly was her name, had luscious hair that billowed in the wind, eyes that seemed to hold both otherworldly wisdom and untold mysteries. Her face was mature but agelessly youthful, her features mirroring the very essence of a Viking legend. It was as if the stories of the gods themselves had come to life.
The hall was filled with awe-struck whispers as people fell to their knees, proclaiming that the gods had indeed come to pay them a visit.
Amidst the reverence, Freya's gaze found Ivar's, and she offered him a serene smile. A shiver ran down his spine as their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them.
"We have much to talk about," she said, her voice carrying a mysterious weight that left Ivar both uneasy and captivated.
As the crowd continued to kneel and worship the divine presence before them, Ivar couldn't help but wonder what secrets this so-called Freya held and how her arrival would reshape their world.
Ivar stood alongside his older brothers, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubba, each of them caught between awe and skepticism as they gazed upon the enigmatic woman who claimed to be Freya. The hall had fallen into reverent silence, save for the murmurs of those who dared to question her divine presence.
"Are you truly the goddess Freya?" Sigurd finally ventured to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Freya, or the woman who bore her name, smiled, but her response held an air of mystery. "My face holds many names, Freya may just be one of them."
The brothers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her cryptic words. It was Ubba who stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the ethereal figure before them. "Why have you come to bless us, then?" he inquired, his tone respectful but inquisitive. "If I may ask without sounding rude."
The woman, who had introduced herself as (Y/N), let out a melodic laugh that echoed through the hall. "Rude? Not at all, dear Ubba. You see, I am here for Ivar."
Ivar's heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward him. He had been prepared for many things this day, but not for such a direct and unsettling revelation. He struggled to find his voice. "For me?"
(Y/N) nodded, her enigmatic smile never faltering. "Yes, for you, Ivar. If you were to accept me into your home, I would bear you many healthy children."
The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning and implications that Ivar could hardly fathom. The weight of her gaze bore down on him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul. It was a proposition unlike any other, one that would reshape not only his destiny but that of his family and people as well.
Sigurd couldn't suppress the unease that gnawed at his heart. He looked from his brothers to (Y/N), his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why him, and not one of us?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
(Y/N) met Sigurd's gaze with an unwavering serenity. "You are all favored by the gods," she began, her voice carrying an air of wisdom. "But Ivar, he is favored above all. The accomplishments you will face, the children you will bear into this world—they will be great, but not as great as his."
The revelation left Sigurd and his brothers exchanging troubled glances. It was a difficult truth to accept, that their destinies were preordained and that Ivar's path would surpass theirs. But even in the midst of their uncertainty, (Y/N) offered a glimpse of hope.
Ubba, ever the one to voice the unasked questions, spoke next. "If you are truly Freya," he began cautiously, "then how come you are here with us and not your husband, the Allfather? I do not wish to be rude, but you are married to Odin, are you not? Yet you speak of carrying my brothers' children."
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes holding a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Odin and I have long since split," she explained. "But for the sake of the other gods, we remain faithful to one another—just not in the way one would think."
The brothers exchanged another set of glances, their minds trying to grasp the complexities of divine relationships and the implications of (Y/N)'s presence in their lives.
Amidst the questions and uncertainties, Ivar felt a wave of insecurity washing over him. He couldn't help but voice his doubt, his voice laden with self-deprecation. "You should choose one of my brothers or someone else," he said, his tone laced with a mix of humility and resignation. "They are able men and can do all the things a woman would need in a man. You don't deserve a cripple like me."
(Y/N) turned his head gently, making him meet her gaze once more. Her smile remained, unwavering. "But yet I chose you."
The words held a weight that Ivar struggled to comprehend. In that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depths of the path that lay ahead, one where gods and mortals intertwined in ways he had never imagined.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Ivar found himself giving in to the uncharted territory that (Y/N) had brought into his life. The same night they met, they wed an impromptu ceremony all of Kattegat’s members and held a extravagant feast of celebration.
Now, in the dimly lit chamber, amidst the cheers and laughter, the newlyweds were about to partake in the bedding ceremony. Ivar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he apologized, his voice tremulous. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
(Y/N) leaned in close, her eyes holding a comforting reassurance. "You'll do just fine," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I've seen how your first time went, my dearest ivar. It is normal to be nervous, especially when it's not the one you truly want."
Ivar felt a surge of relief wash over him. Her understanding words eased his doubts, and he let himself surrender to the passion that simmered between them.
Throughout the night, their love-making was fervent, passionate, and filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. The hours blurred together, and the dawn found them entwined, their bodies and souls intimately connected.
The next morning, Ivar awoke with a grin that was unusually happy for the stoic prince. Ubba, his older brother, noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but inquire, "Did something happen to Sigurd, brother?" He assumed that Ivar might have witnessed their brother's misfortune or a rejection.
Ivar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort, brother."
Not long after both brothers had been joined by Floki - a member close to their family especially their father and seen as another father figure to ivar, for breakfast, the trio exchanged casual conversation, and Ivar's newfound happiness was hard to conceal. In the midst of a seemingly mundane conversation about the weather, Ivar couldn't contain himself any longer.
"I must share some news," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence. "Last night, I performed well in bed. Every round, to the very end."
Ubba, caught off guard, nearly choked on his mead. Floki raised an eyebrow, intrigued but nevertheless proud by the sudden announcement. "Is that so, Ivar?"
While Ubba struggled to contain his astonishment, he managed to offer a hearty congratulations to his brother, even if a tinge of bitterness lingered. The doubts that had plagued Ivar, the assumptions made by his brothers, had all been dispelled in the passionate hours he had shared with (Y/N).
It had been just a week since Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, but the news that swept through the village was enough to send everyone into celebration. (Y/N), still affectionately referred to as Freya by the villagers, was pregnant with the heir of Ivar, the prince of Kattegat.
Upon hearing the news, Ivar wasted no time in throwing a grand feast to celebrate this momentous occasion. The great hall was adorned with banners and torches, and the long tables were laden with the finest foods and meads. It was a joyous occasion, and the entire village turned out to celebrate the impending arrival of their future leader.
Throughout the festivities, Ivar's attentiveness to his wife was unmistakable. He was by (Y/N)'s side at every turn, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. If she desired a drink, he would fetch it for her or have a thrall pour it with haste. When she wanted more meat, he ensured her plate was overflowing with it. And when she complained of stiffness in her shoulders and back from the long hours of celebration, he was there to ease the tension, his strong hands working wonders on her weary muscles.
Everyone could see the happiness that (Y/N) brought into Ivar's life, and it was evident in every glance, every gesture, and every tender touch between them. Despite the brevity of their marriage, their connection was undeniable, and it had only grown stronger with the promise of a child.
As the night wore on, and the revelry continued, Ivar found himself in a state of contentment he had never known before. With (Y/N) by his side and the prospect of fatherhood on the horizon, he couldn't help but look to the future with hope and excitement. The people of Kattegat watched their prince with admiration, knowing that he was not only a formidable leader but also a devoted husband, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his heir.
The months had went by swiftly and soon the long-awaited day had arrived. The air in the room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as (Y/N) prepared to give birth to Ivar's heir. The labor had been long and exhausting, pushing (Y/N) to her limits, but she persevered with unwavering strength and determination. Ivar stood by her side, providing constant support and encouragement, never leaving her sight.
As the hours turned into eternity, the cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwife worked diligently, guiding (Y/N) through each contraction, offering words of comfort and reassurance. By her side, Ivar held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the strain etched upon her features but admired her resilience in the face of such intense pain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the moment arrived. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and tears of relief streamed down (Y/N)'s face. Ivar's heart swelled with joy as he looked upon the tiny face of his firstborn son. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if the gods themselves had blessed this moment.
"I am truly blessed by the gods," Ivar whispered, his voice filled with awe. "For I have a wife, the fairest of them all - the goddess Freya herself - in my arms, with my firstborn son, an heir. I never thought I would find such happiness, but I am grateful that I have."
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand to touch Ivar's cheek, her touch filled with tenderness and gratitude. "And I am blessed to have you, my dearest Ivar," she whispered. "You have given me strength and love beyond measure."
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, overshadowed by the miracle of new life. Ivar and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the precious gift they had been given.
The midwife gently placed the newborn in (Y/N)'s arms, and Ivar marveled at the sight. His heir, his legacy, lay peacefully in his mother's embrace. There was a newfound sense of purpose and responsibility that settled upon Ivar's broad shoulders.
As he looked upon his wife and son, Ivar knew that he would protect and cherish them with all his might. He, a warrior feared by many, had found his greatest joy in the form of his family. With a heart filled with love and gratitude, Ivar vowed to be the father his son deserved, and not the man his own father had been.
Six years had passed since the day Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, and in that time, Ivar had become a force to be reckoned with. At the age of twenty-four, he had accomplished more than he had ever dreamed of. He had conquered lands, brought riches to Kattegat, and solidified his reputation as a formidable leader.
But it wasn't just his conquests that defined his success; it was the growing family he had built with (Y/N) by his side. Their firstborn, Arvid, had been a source of immense pride for Ivar, carrying the weight of being the heir to the throne. Following Arvid, twin boys named Audun and Axel had joined their family.
Their blessings continued with the birth of a daughter, Astride, who brought a new kind of joy into their lives. And after Astride, more sons had followed: Ase, Bodil, Dane, Ebbe, Eir, and Inge, each one a testament to the love and connection between Ivar and (Y/N).
Now, with the passage of time, the couple found themselves on the brink of another exciting chapter in their lives. (Y/N) was expecting once more, and this time, they had received the news that they were to welcome another set of twins into their growing family.
The prospect of more children filled Ivar with a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had not only achieved great success in his endeavors but had also created a legacy that would continue to shape the future of Kattegat for generations to come. With (Y/N) by his side, he looked forward to the challenges and joys that lay ahead, knowing that their love and the family they had built together were the greatest treasures of all.
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multific · 6 months
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The Mistress of The Devil
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Ivar the Boneless x DarkWitch!Reader
Warnings: mention of witchcraft, demons
Summary: Dark clothes, dark aura and powers. Where you came from, or who you were, not even Aslaug was sure anymore. All she could recall is that she promised to wed her son to you. And now, the Devil had a wife.
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"I said you will marry her and this is the last I want to hear anything from you Ivar!" hearing his mother yell, Ivar knew, he lost this battle.
He was to marry this unknown woman.
He hated the idea.
Ivar will just simply kill her, he needs no wife.
He said, but the next day, just when Kattegat woke up, there stood a woman.
She was dressed in a black, her smile was kind, too kind for someone dressed so dark.
"My name is Y/N. I came for my wedding."
Everyone was confused. Aslaug ended up showing you around and introducing you to your future husband.
Ivar Ragnarson.
A strong man with an even stronger will. His legs were the proof of it. He never backed down, not letting anything get in his way.
You liked it.
The determination. The fire.
It is just what you need in a husband.
You smiled at Ivar as you two were wed.
Now, you had him.
---
Everyone knew the name Ivar the Boneless. Everyone feared Ivar the Boneless.
The fearless Viking known for his intelligence and insanity.
But then, a whisper came with the wind.
A whisper of his wife.
A woman, explained as the Darkness herself.
The Christians referred to her as Satan's Wife. 
Would that make Ivar Satan in their logic?
Everyone wondered how could Ivar be so fearless, how could he know so much.
The answer was simple, his wife.
You, with your powers inherited throughout the generations of women in your family.
You, the dark sorceress who fell madly in love with a not so simple Viking.
It was always you.
People who survived Ivar's wrath often said it was as if he had a dark figure standing behind him. The figure was tall, and had long arms and eyes that glow red like blood.
Overexadiration, but not far from the truth.
One of your many beings. 
Sentenced to follow and help Ivar in his fights, the being didn't have a name. It was simply black and tall.
Ivar swore sometimes he could see it from the corner of his eye.
It made him recall a time when he first saw one of your... pets.
It was very late, the fire has nearly gone out, both of you sleeping under furs.
Ivar woke, his mind fuzzy with sleep when he saw someone or rather something in the corner. 
But as his eyes focused and he woke up with a start, the thing vanished.
"What is it, Ivar?" you asked, being awakened from your slumber.
"I saw someone." you looked at the corner he kept on staring at.
"I will deal with it, sleep now." you smiled at him as you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the house.
Ivar followed you, crawling as you opened the door, his words failed him.
You stood a couple steps from the door, looking towards the darkness. You turned to your left, then to your right. As if you saw someone you spoke up, just as Ivar found his way towards the doorway.
"Let him sleep! You are scaring him, I told you before." you said, to him it looked like you have gone mad, then you turned to him. "I told you before, they wouldn't hurt you, don't be afraid of them, Ivar." you said and Ivar swore he saw something move to his right. He quickly looked and saw a pair or long fingers on the wall, the... thing right around the corner, Ivar felt frozen.
Then he saw it.
The face of a being, not human. Illuminated by the light coming from the window, Ivar's pair of blues met with black eyes and skin so pale, Ivar never seen anything like it before.
"It won't hurt you." you said with a lower voice as you watched Ivar. He then looked back at you, you saw his confusion. "They won't hurt you." you said once more and this time, Ivar believed you.
But never after that night did he ever want to see any of your creatures.
---
You were a rather light sleeper. 
There were occasions when nothing could wake you, and other times where a simple movement from Ivar made you wake up. This was one of those nights.
You were awakened by his simple movement, you couldn't fall back to sleep and so, you decided to just sit by the fire and watch it and Ivar.
Ivar woke up hours later, it was still dark outside and he looked at you.
"Are your demons haunting you again, Wife?"
"Quite the opposite, My King. I'm haunting them." you smirked and Ivar moved to the edge of the bed. 
You stood up and stood still a couple steps away from him.
"What would you do for me, Ivar?" you asked and he looked into your eyes.
"I would burn the entire world. Kill every last person just to get to you. Kill every last demon just to have you with me again." you moved onto the floor, crawling over, you placed your hands on his knees.
"Would you run for me?" you watched his eyes switch. 
You offended him.
You corrected yourself.
"If I give you the ability, would you run to me, run to save me, run to kill them? Would you?"
"C-Can you?" he asked, eyes filling with hope.
And you nodded.
A simple nod.
"Will it hurt?" came his next question.
Another nod.
"It would be worth it. Standing beside you, as the proud husband I am. Run to you? Without a question." he ran his fingers through your hair.
You sealed your deal with a kiss.
---
Everyone in Kattegat woke up with a feeling of dread.
Then they all saw.
Ivar walking around like nothing happened, as if his legs always worked.
The Devil could walk.
And it terrified everyone.
They only could imagine what his enemies would think, given how his own people were terrified of him. 
His brother always knew Ivar's wife wasn't a regular woman. They had this feeling about her, as they said, there was a darkness around her.
And upon seeing their brother walk, there was no more doubt about it.
She made him walk.
So, was is actually that Ivar married the Devil? Would it actually be the Devil and her husband?
One thing was for sure, now whenever someone looked into the dark of your eyes, they could hear people crying and begging.
And just like with many names in history, yours and Ivar's were eventually melted into one.
It was no longer Ivar the Boneless and his wife.
Soon, all people remembered was the fierce Viking, Ivar the Boneless.
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writingoddess1125 · 8 months
Text
Welcome! Request: CLOSED
My name is JC and I love writing!
KOFI
I Write Mostly Angsty Slice of Life but always open to request!
Masterlist below -
10/28 updated
MARVEL
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XMEN
Kurt Wagner
1999 (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
Pt. 5
Blowin Me up (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
ONE PIECE
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You Take Care of Their Hair
You get High with Them
Old Men Series Masterlist
Zoro,Luffy,Corazon Child Series
Crocodile, Law, Sanji Child Series
You Take their Hat
You Cook for Them Even though You such at It
How Strong the Old Man Gene's Are
They Lay on your chest
You give them a Massage
You give them Facemask
Drunk + Spiked
The Moment they fell in love with you
Just a Peak
You Die at Birth
(S)cream
Weird Relationship Milestones
Buggy The Clown I'm your Biggest Fan (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
My Heart Breaks (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Theater Brat (Completed)
Theater Brat
Theater Bart Pt. 2
Theater Brat Pt. 3
Fell In Love Alone (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Jessica and Roger Rabbit Effect
Part 1
Part 2
My Anchor
Solo Act
Not Flashy
Your Seat Awaits
Trouble Comes in Pairs Pt. 1
NSFW Alphabet
Buggy find out about thirst traps
Buggy finds out about thirst traps pt. 2
Not all Silver and Gold
Pain and Pleasure
Switch Things Up
Boardwalk Artist
Poppy Kisses
First Bounty
Modern AU Buggy -> Part 2
Secret Headcanon
Ocean Eyes
Drunk teasing with bestie
You get him a Corgi
Paints on S/O
Roronoa Zoro
Favorite Bartender
N$FW Alphabet
New Parent Zoro
Dancing With Swords (Ongoing)
Part 1
Luffy D. Monkey
Luffy realizing he's in love with you
Warm Mornings
Thunder Buddies
Sanji
Moral Support
Friend Like Me
A Girl to Love
Usopp
Bar Adventure
Shanks
Tag Youre It
You remind me
My Shooting Star
Mihawk
Call Me Sir
Only Us
NSFW Alphabet
Tag Youre It
My heart lies with you
Fight for pleasure
Look up Darling~
Daddy Mihawk
How and Why?
Crack
Morticia and Gomez Effect
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Its Done
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Crocodile
So Annoying
MISC.
Capitan Kuro X Reader
Alvida X Reader
VIKINGS- Coming Soon
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CALL OF DUTY
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Relationship Fluff
Medic of 141
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Dumb cat that loves Simon
Finds out about thirst traps
Blip on the Radar (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2.
John 'Soap' McTavish
Koing
Finds out about thirst traps
But do have other interest and willing to write about other Animes, Cartoons, Shows and More!
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midnightstar16 · 2 months
Text
Whispers of Love: Ivar x Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: Reader is new in Kattegat and catches the attention of a certain Ragnarsson.
Warnings: Assault, murder, slight swearing(i think)
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You came to Kattegat just a couple days ago but it didn’t take much time at all for you to notice the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. You only saw them from a safe distance as they talked to one another. You noticed one of the boys was crippled but not before you saw his face. You were in awe, to say the least. But your eyes must have lingered on him for quite some time for he met your gaze with an intense stare that sent chills down your spine. You never had more reason to leave and go back to the hut you were staying in.
You became an orphan at the mere age of 12 and had taken care of the farm for many years with your older brother. But the two of you had recently decided that you wanted a far more exciting future than just farming on the land so you sold the land and took the money to buy a hut and look after yourself just until you had settled in. You forgot about Ivar soon enough once you reached you new home and moved on with your new life.
A month passed by and living in Kattegat was so much more different than the farm. It was much louder, faster and there were more people than you could count. But it was not to your dislike, it was the contrary actually. You had started your training to be a physician and you were doing nicely. Everything was working out better than you or your brother could’ve imagined.
Ivar had not stopped thinking about you ever since that little eye contact in the market and it may have been a bit delusional of him to still believe that he would see you again. You were probably not even in Kattegat anymore because he could not find you anywhere. You were the first girl to look at him with such admiration and he drowned in your beauty the second he laid eyes on you.
During dinner he seemed to have zoned out because Sigurd had to throw some food at him to get his attention. Ivar was immediately annoyed and glared at him. Trying to stop himself from flinging his axe at his brother, he asked, “Why are you throwing food around like a child?”
“You wouldn’t listen. Had to do something to bring you back to Midgard,” he replied.
Ivar rolled his eyes, already feeling great anger towards his brother but before he could say anything, his mother interrupted, “We are celebrating Yol tomorrow.”
Ivar drowned in his thoughts once more. He would know if you were in Kattegat by tomorrow night. If you were in the town, then you would be at the feast and he would approach you. He wanted to know all there was to know about you; all the important and unimportant things of your life.
You and Kalf, your brother began cleaning up the plates and horns after dinner. You broke the silence, “It is Yol tomorrow. There will be a great feast.”
“Yes, I have not been in the Great Hall since the Thing, where I got my arm ring. Just thinking about the food that will be there makes me hungry all over again,” Kalf spoke excitedly.
“We have just had dinner, you fool. How are you always this hungry?” You spoke laughingly.
“Your cooking will make any man excited to eat something else,” he commented.
Gasping, you threw the nearest thing you could find at him at which he simply laughed. You spoke sarcastically, “I won’t make food for you if you really hate it that much.”
“Well, I mean it’s not THAT bad if I think about it,” he retaliated.
Smiling smugly, you spoke, “Better.”
The feast was spectacular. You sat on a different table from your brother though because you knew he would embarrass you the first chance he got. The food and the ale was so good you could feast all night. There was music as well and many were dancing to it but you weren’t drunk enough yet to give yourself away to the music. You simply talked and laughed with your newly made friends.
Looking around the hall, you suddenly noticed certain eyes on you and then the memory came back. Those blue piercing eyes and that face, he was perfect in every way. You maintained the eye contact for long, getting lost in his eyes until one of your friends whispered, “That’s Ivar. The crippled one.”
You looked at her. You had heard of Ragnar Lothbrok’s crippled son. The girl continued, “They say he is a menace, quicker to anger than most men, so don’t let his legs fool you and not only that, but I’ve heard that he is stronger and better at fighting than any of his brothers. Apparently he strangled a boar with his bare hands but that is probably not true.”
“Of course it is not true,” you scoffed. After waiting a second, you suggested, “Come, let us dance. The music is lovely.”
The both of you giggled and rushed to give yourself away to the music. You soon felt the beat through your veins and the rhythm matching with your heartbeat. You danced uncontrollably, partly because you wanted to see how the crippled prince would react, if at all. His eyes had barely faltered from you and it was making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want him to know that he made you feel weak by simply looking at you but every now and then you would give him a glance.
You suddenly felt a hand around your waist. You didn’t know who the man was for you had never seen him. His hold on you was not budging when you struggled. His other hand was roaming at places on your body that made you terrified and the hall was crowded enough for no one to truly notice your struggle.
“Let go of me!” you said, struggling.
“Oh what’s a bit of harmless fun? Especially with a woman of your beauty,” the man spoke.
You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he continued to ‘dance’ and play around with your body until something that you hadn’t expected in a million years to happen. A knife suddenly struck his head as his eyes remained widened with shock. You quickly stepped away as his body fell to the ground. The tears ran down your face and you looked around trying to figure out who it was until you saw everyone looking at Ivar who was glaring at the man’s limp body. It was different to how he had looked at you in every singly way but you didn’t stay around to find out more. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, you stormed out of the hall with Kalf following.
“What happened back there?” Kalf spoke worriedly.
“I-…” you hesitated. Before you could speak, your brother interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me. It is fine… Come on, let us go to our hut.”
Ivar had had his eyes on you all evening, his brothers even teasing him about it but he quickly turned them away angrily. But when he saw that asshole trying to touch you without consent, Ivar felt an uncontrollable anger. He wanted to skin the bastard alive but he couldn’t simply watch you struggle like that. Even after killing the man, Ivar felt no guilt. Why should he? He was simply protecting you, making sure you were safe.
No one had asked him about why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was already too obvious. Perhaps he had scared you off. You wouldn’t even want to go near him now. He felt his insecure thoughts weighing him down during the night.
You barely slept through the night, the picture of the knife piercing the man’s skull replaying in your mind and then seeing the look Ivar had on his face. That menacing look, the one that could take down entire armies.
The next day, you went away from the town to feel the quiet of nature that you had already begun to miss. You walked around the forest, finding a riverbank to sit nearby quickly enough. You thought about what had happened last night, how, in some really fucked up way, Ivar saved you. But he also killed a man who will never experience Valhalla now. Then again, that monster didn’t deserve Valhalla. You sat there wondering what would’ve happened if Ivar had not intervened.
“Mind if I join you?” you heard a voice from behind. When you turned your head and saw that it was Ivar, you quickly stood up.
“Were you following me?” you realised in this moment, you were terrified of him.
“Will it help if I said no? Either way, you walk too fast so I had to find you myself,” he spoke. When you didn’t say anything, it didn’t take him long enough to realise how you felt, “You are scared of me.”
Scoffing, you reasoned, “Who wouldn’t be? You killed a man while I was simply inches away.”
“He was hurting you,” Ivar remarked as if that was reason enough.
“But you could’ve killed me,” you argued.
Ivar grinned, “I didn’t though, did I?”
“Well… No but still, it was terrifying,” you said while Ivar made himself comfortable by sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree.
Even though Ivar worked very hard to not show it, he had been very nervous to actually talk to you. Now that you were here, he didn’t want to ever leave.
You stood there silently before sitting down in front of him. What was it about him that you felt so drawn towards?
He looked at you lovingly, “What is your name?”
“Y/N is what they call me… But I already know who you are, Ivar,” you acknowledged.
“Do you?” Ivar joked.
“That anger in those gorgeous eyes of yours, how could you be mistaken?” you replied.
“My eyes are ‘gorgeous’?” he couldn’t control his smile.
You blushed, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“I’m afraid so. I don’t mind the compliment though, please, y/n, carry on about my gorgeous eyes,” he teased. Truth was, he felt a thousand butterflies. He’d never gotten a compliment from anyone.
The two of you continued making jokes at one another, laughing constantly and time flew by ever so quickly. Ivar couldn’t believe the sun was about to set. With you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He felt at peace.
When his brothers asked where he had been, he simply smiled and shrugged. For the first time in so long, he didn’t feel furious. There was something about you, like you were a goddess who appeared to save him. The next day Ivar went up to the same place, hoping you would show up. He was almost about to leave until he saw you show up.
You finished your work as a physician for the day as quickly as you could and relied on your friends to cover up for you. Once out of Kattegat, you practically ran to the same spot on the riverbank as yesterday. You didn’t know how but you just knew that he would be there, nor did you know why you felt so eager to go to him either.
You continued these secret meetings for as long as you could. No one was aware of who or where you actually went but you didn’t care even if they found out. Ivar had become your sanctuary as you had become his.  
During one such evening, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the riverbank, you found yourselves lost in a conversation filled with laughter. Ivar had a knack for weaving humor into every exchange, and you found yourself charmed by his wit and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.
Ivar grinned, his eyes dancing with mirth. "See? I told you I was the funniest person you'd ever meet."
Laughing, you shook your head. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."
His gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth filling his eyes. "I'm glad you find me amusing, y/n."
You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You have a way with words, Ivar."
He chuckled softly. "Only when I'm with you."
The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and before you could think, you found yourself leaning in closer to him.
Ivar's hand gently brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "You're beautiful when you laugh, y/n."
Unable to resist the pull any longer, Ivar reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. His touch was tender, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.
As your lips clashed with an overdue feeling of affection for one another, Ivar kissed you passionately and possessively almost as if declaring that you were his.
You pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Ivar's eyes once more, a sense of belonging settling deep within your soul.
“I am yours, y/n, now and forever and you are mine,” Ivar’s words echoed in your heart as you buried your eyes in his, expressing a thousand unspoken words.
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axelsagewrites · 2 months
Text
Where Am I?*Part Three
Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn
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Word count: 1482
Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies
Part one Part two
Masterlist Here
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You weren’t too sure what to expect when Ragnar said they would show you hospitality, but this was definitely something alright. You’d been given a dress that fit into the time period a bit better and made you stick out less than you had before. well, that was if you ignored the fact your hair was completely different from everyone else and everyone, but the Ragnarsson’s took at least three steps back whenever you approached.
When his brothers realised Ivar had been sneaking in to talk to you their protests began, “That’s not fair!”
“Why didn’t you tell us she could understand us?”
“Why did she talk to you and not us?”
You didn’t even feel the need to mention he’d bribed you with food. Ivar was good enough at arguing for himself. meanwhile as they bickered at the dinner table Bjorn sat at the other end staring at you the whole time. it defiantly wasn’t completely unsettling. Ragnar meanwhile was asking you a million questions you didn’t know how to answer.
“So how does a lighter work?”
“A spark happens when you press down and lights the gas,” you tried to explain while you ate your stew.
Ragnar nodded as he thought it over, “I think I understand. But what is a gas?”
“Uh…”  you said but Bjorn cut you off, effectively silencing everyone at the same time.
“How do we know you’re not a witch?” he said making Ivar roll his eyes and for once Ubbe and Ivar seemed to agree with something.
“If she was a witch surely, she would’ve escaped by now?” Ubbe sighed.
“Besides,” Hvitserk said, cheeks pink from his fourth glass of mead, “She’s far too pretty to be a witch,” he said, throwing a wink your way making your own cheeks heat up. The way Ivar glared at Hvitserk though put you on edge.
It was Sigurd turn to roll his eyes at his brother, “You’re a pig. And besides she hasn’t done anything. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”
“If anyone is going to do that it will be Ivar,” Ubbe said so nonchalantly you felt your jaw drop.
Especially when Ivar chimed in, “This is true,”
You could see the growing annoyance on Bjorn’s face as his younger brothers had their petty fights, something you would soon have to get used to. Clearly Aslaug was used to it however as she sank more into her wine. You had to admit the wine at least was nice. “I don’t know how I can earn your trust Bjorn, but I swear on my life I didn’t come to hurt anyone,”
You half expected him to laugh or roll his eyes at you but instead he cocked his head to the side, “Who told you, my name?”
You watched as everyone paused what they were doing to turn to look at you. “How did you know any of our names?” Sigurd asked.
You debated lying, saying Ivar told you but you didn’t feel like that was a good hole to dig. Instead, you swallowed hard, “Well everyone knows your name. you’re Bjorn ironside. Son of Ragnar. The Ragnarssons are famous,” you tried to say it nonchalantly while being very aware each one of them had a knife or axe.
However, flattery seemed to work, “And me as well?” Ragnar asked, a spark behind his eyes, “After all I am Ragnar Lodbrok,” he said making his sons all roll their eyes.
“Well of course. there are legends about you. they write tv shows about your lives,”
They all seemed so proud of themselves, even Aslaug had a smile behind her cup. You felt satisfied with your excuse until Bjorn asked, “What is a tv show?”
“Uh…”
-
Later that night Ivar showed you to a room that looked far less like a prison than the one you’d been in before. “We’ve got your-whatever these are,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd walked into the room with a bag each and Hvitserk came in behind them with a flagon of wine.
“They’re just bags,” you said as you took them and moved to sit on the makeshift bed they had.
Privacy clearly wasn’t a thing here as all four boys sat down and began passing the wine around, “What’s in that one?” Sigurd asked, pointing to your guitar case.
You opened it and pulled it out, “Is it some kind of lute?” Hvitserk asked but you could see Sigurd was the keenest.
“I guess?” you said, placing it on your lap and gently strumming the strings, “It’s called a guitar,”
“Play us something?” Ubbe asked before taking a swig out the wine.
You sighed as you looked at the strings and tried to think of a song before your fingers found the strings and you began to strum.
“I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night,
Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife,” you began to sing Taylor swift softly as you played Willow. All four boys seemed mesmerised as you sang and even Ivar stayed quiet until the last night, “I’m begging for you to take my hand,
Wreck my plans, that’s my man,” you finished, placing your hand over the strings and looking up to finally meet their eyes.
“That was beautiful,” Sigurd said, “Did you write that?”
“Yes,” you said without thinking. After all a little white lie never hurt? Besides its not like Taylor would know or anyone could prove you wrong, “Yes I did,”
“You’re very talented,” Ubbe said, passing you the wine.
You looked at it sceptically before finally taking a drink. It’s not like they’d need to poison you anyway. You were already screwed. You all began to drink and laugh the night away as you played a few more songs on the guitar, even letting the boys try have a shot. What you didn’t see however was Bjorn standing beside the door to your room, smiling softly whenever you sang.
-
 The next day Ubbe offered to give you a tour of Kattegat so you could get to know the place. “This is the market,” he said as a little girl ran away from you to her mother making you bite back a laugh, “Sorry about that. They’ll be less frightened of you soon,”
You chuckled at his words making a smile stretch on his face, “Its ironic. Out of everyone here I’m the least frightening one,”
“I don’t know so much,” he said. You narrowed your eyes at him with a curious smile making him chuckle, “Weve never met anyone like you. you are so…” he paused searching for the right word,” rare,”
“That’s the nicest thing I think someone has ever said to me,” you said.
Ubbe gave you a soft smile as he led you around the stalls. You tried to refuse it, but he did buy you a knife, promising to show you how to use it just encase. Even the way he insisted made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
As you were walking around the market you did bump into someone. “Bjorn!” Ubbe called to his brother who wore an uncomfortably stoic look as he walked over. “I was just showing her round Kattegat,”
Bjorn nodded, his eyes scanning your frame, “Good. Can’t have you getting lost now, can we? Think my father might have a fit if we lost you,” something about the way his eyes studied you had a heat creeping up the back of your neck.
“I hope all his questions don’t bother you,” Ubbe said, giving you a sorry smile.
It was true that every conversation with Ragnar was like an interrogation. He wanted to know everything you could tell him about the future and honestly you didn’t know how to explain how a television worked. “I don’t mind. Its sweet,” you said making them both chuckle, “What?”
“Most people would not describe my father as sweet,” Bjorn said, a smile finally cracked onto his lips.
“She’s also friends with Ivar so she may not be fully right in the head,” Ubbe teased.
“Ivars not that bad,” you rolled your eyes, but both their eyes seemed to bulge out their skulls, “He’s a lot nicer when people aren’t constantly picking on him,” you half joked though you did hate how they teased him. especially Sigurd who whenever Ivar wasn’t around was kind but whenever he walked into the room you could cut the air with a knife.
Ubbe just tutted at you, “Oh you have much to learn sweet, foolish, girl. It’s a good thing we found you when we did,” You did your best to roll your eyes and blow him off but for the rest of the day you found your mind wandering. What would it be like to date a Viking?
Part four here
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alicedopey · 9 months
Text
His Princess
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(gif credits to its creator)
Fandom: Vikings
Genre: AU, Smut, Dark-ish
Pairing: Soft dark! Ivar x Innocent ! Reader
Words: 1809 (still don't know how to write a drabble)
Warnings: smut, dubious consent, somnophilia, light gaslighting. These warnings are to be taken seriously. Read at your own risk.
Summary: Ivar decides that he is tired of waiting to get what he wants.
A/N : This was written for my 500 followers celebration and I'm like two years late. I know I'm awful. The requested prompts are in bold.
Ivar watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully. You were magnificent, laying under the sheets, pure and innocent, like a prey ready to be devoured by a hungry beast. Hungry like he was since he had set his eyes on you and tonight, he was more than ready to devour you. 
Cautiously, he sat on your bed, put his crutch against the wall and undid his braces. He took off his shirt, unlaced his breeches and stepped out of them with a wince. This Saxon humid weather was hard on his legs and he could not wait for spring. He slowly lay down next to you and looked at your angelic face. Tentatively, he stroked your cheek and let his hand slide down your neck and lower, until it reached your cleavage. Then, his hand sneaked under your night gown to massage your breasts. Ivar shivered at the contact of your skin. 
It was the first time he could feel you without any barrier and it was exhilarating. It seemed to be the same for you because your nipples hardened under his ministrations and you let out the softest moan that went straight to Ivar’s shaft which started to rise and bob against the fabric of your sheets. 
Since you were still fast asleep, he took his time to worship your whole body, your skin feeling like silk under his rough fingers. His hands ran down your upper body, exploring your stomach, your navel, your waist until he felt the need to go further. He retracted his fingers and pulled your night gown up. The sight of your pure and untouched body mesmerized him and he gave himself a few minutes to explore it with his eyes this time. When he set his eyes on the junction between your thighs and saw the thatch of trimmed hair protecting your mound, he swallowed with difficulty and licked his lips. 
Almost panting, he let his fingers tickle the hair before adventuring himself deeper. He groaned when one of his knuckles touched your wet center.  The exploration of your body seemed to have its effect on you as well. 
You began to stir this time and he felt your body stiffen under this forbidden touch.
“King Ivar…” Your murmured groggily. “What…” You tensed when you realized what he was doing and tried to scuttle away from him. “No…not here.”
“Yes, here.” Ivar replied softly but firmly, gripping your hips so you wouldn’t budge. 
“Anybody could barge in.” You said, panicked. 
“Nobody will barge in.” Ivar had made sure of it. The guards were too willing to get some gold in exchange for their silence. Their distaste of this treacherous king who had sold them to the heathens and the fear that this boneless King induced weighed more in the balance than the idea of protecting their sweet and innocent princess.
“We can’t, it’s not proper…”
Ivar cut off any of your protests with a kiss on your lips. “Didn’t you like the kisses and touches we shared before?”
“Yes, but…”
“Don’t worry, Princess.” He cooed and his fingers started to play with your folds to distract you. “I’m going take care of you.” 
His thumb rolled on your clit and he felt all of your defenses fall. Your hand gripped the bulging biceps of his other arm and you whined through your gritted teeth.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Princess. Let it all out.” He delved two fingers in your heat while his thumb kept playing with your small nub. He growled at the tightness he found and began slow back and forth motions before leaning over your chest to take a nipple between his lips and suck it wildly. You gasped but put your hand on the back of his hand to encourage him to go on. The Viking smiled against your chest and happily complied, only stopping to give his twin the same treatment. He slid a third finger in your cunt and sped up his movements. Small pants left your mouth and you gripped his biceps harder. His thumb pushed a little bit harder on your clit and you spasmed, letting your body orgasm for the first time.
Ivar chuckled. “You liked that?”
Still too lost in your own pleasure, you simply nodded and smiled. Ivar smiled back at you and retrieved his fingers with a squelch that made you blush. He watched his fingers and licked them greedily, happy to revel in your taste. “Delicious”.
He winked at you then spread your legs wider. He pulled himself up before slithering between them. He pumped his already leaking sex a couple of times and pushed his tip inside. You tried to evade his touch, panicked again but Ivar gripped your hips. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you, yet.”
“But, but...Ivar, King Ivar, this is…”
“Shhh…Princess, look at me.” He ordered you in a soft voice and you did. The unshed tears in your eyes made him feel bad but he knew he couldn’t back down now – and he definitely did not want to. “You liked what I did before, right?” 
You slowly nodded. “And you trust me?” You nodded again. “Then it’s alright Princess, I’ll take good care of you.”
He saw the last gleam of hesitation leave your eyes and he smiled to comfort you.
Slowly, he bent your legs and guided them against his side of his hips. He guided his tip closer and lubricated himself with the slick that had gathered between your legs. 
“You are ready for me, Princess”. He groaned. “I swear by the Gods you will love it.”
He entered you in one swift motion. You tensed and winced when he went past your resistance. Your hands instinctively pushed against his chest. 
“It’s alright, Princess.” He whispered in a soothing voice. “You’re going to feel good in a moment.”
He stilled himself to let you adjust to his size. When he finally felt the tension slowly leaving your body, he began to move. He groaned one more time and refrained himself from going faster. Your walls were squeezing him in the most delicious way. It was different than with Katya and the women he had enjoyed after her. 
Hvitserk was right, virgins could be slightly awkward but they were special. Then, he shook his head to chase every thought about his brother away and focused on you and your reactions. Your face was starting to show signs of pleasure, your hands were now sensually stroking his torso and taking the time to explore his upper body. They slowly travelled up his shoulders and went down his back to end up just above the curve of his ass.
Ivar took that as signs of comfort and he thrusted more forcefully in your sweet velvety walls. His eyes almost rolled on the back of his head each time into your welcoming heat. He grunted and fastened his pace, pounding into you. He knew he should be gentler since it was your first time but he could not help it. Your nails sank into his lower back and your hips tilted up to meet his pelvic thrusts.
“Feeling good, Princess?” Ivar asked in a husky voice.
“Hmmm hmmm, yes….”
He looked at your face contorted in pleasure, your rosy cheeks and your parted lips from which escaped the sweetest sounds. He felt himself harden even more and his motions became frantic. He was rutting into you by now, spurred on by your moans and the way your arms ran up his back and pulled his chest against yours. 
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, that he peppered with kisses. The hold of your legs on his hips tightened and Ivar sensed you were close. Good, because he was too. He sneaked a hand between your sweaty bodies to play with your clit.  Your legs shook against his skin and you came, biting his shoulder. 
The light pain fueled his pleasure and he let go with a roar, spilling himself inside of you.
“What a wild little thing you are, Princess.” Ivar murmured against your neck and kissed it once he had caught his breath. Yet, he frowned when he heard you sniffle. He raised his head and when he saw your eyes brimming with tears, he felt a tiny pang of guilt tugging at his heart.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Did I hurt you?”
You turned your eyes away from him before answering. “I am ruined”. You sniffled again. “Nobody will marry me. You will go back to your lands and my father will send me to a convent.” 
Tears rolled down your cheeks. Ivar cupped your chin and softly turned your head so that you would look at him. “You are not ruined my princess and I will marry you. Don’t you get it?” He added as he could sense you were doubting his words. “I’m nothing without you. You are my heart, body and soul. I will certainly not let anyone keeping us apart.”
“You want to marry me?” You asked in a tiny voice. A few tears were still rolling down your cheeks but the ghost of smile appeared on your lips.
“Of course.” Ivar replied and kissed your mouth tenderly. 
He would lie if he pretended he had not thought about ruining you just for the sake of it. He had found you attractive the moment he set eyes on you and taking your virginity would be a way to defy your father. Nonetheless, he had changed his mind when he realized the looks you were giving him were not out of fear and disgust but rather curiosity. From then on, he did his best to spend some time with you discreetly and as he got to know you, he grew fond of your personality and charming ways. You would make the perfect queen. 
“But…what about Father?” You wondered, still unsure. “What if he refuses your proposal?” 
“Don’t worry about your father, Princess”. He assured with a comforting smile. “I will talk to him. I am certain he will listen.”
Ivar had planned everything so that he would since he had refused to do it before. Tomorrow morning, your lady-in-waiting would discreetly rush to her King to tell him how she saw the princess entangled in bed with the boneless and wicked Viking. Hearing that, the King would make sure to summon him and order the Viking to explain himself. Ivar would gladly comply to his demand and he would not forget to remind the King that his precious and innocent daughter was probably already carrying his heir in her womb. Maybe this time, the Saxon King would understand that nobody in their right mind would refuse to get King Ivar the Boneless what he wanted and what he wanted was you.
Tagging (feel free to ask to be added or removed): @naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @elenarogersbarnes13 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @gearhead66 @therealcalicali @peaceisadirtyword @captstefanbrandt @ivarswickedqueen
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gwen-novella · 1 year
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Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet
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Pairing: Ivar x female reader
Word count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n
Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.
Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.
Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 
The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 
The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 
Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.
When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.
Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 
You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 
"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 
"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."
Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 
Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 
He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.
Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 
"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 
If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 
If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.
The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 
"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 
You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 
Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 
Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.
In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.
Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.
You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 
"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 
Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding Kink
Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 
Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."
Trust Kink (?)
Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 
As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 
As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hurting you.
Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.
Sharing.
Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."
Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.
His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 
"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 
Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 
It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 
That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.
As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.
You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 
"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 
When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."
"I do not."
Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 
As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.
As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 
"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"
Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."
To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
To quote TPAW:
"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 
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Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)
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Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!
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Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.
She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.
When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.
“We can still fight dear”
“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”
“What if they kill you?”
“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”
Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.
Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.
“Promise me you will come back to me”
“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”
-
(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.
(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.
“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”
“Who are you?”
“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”
The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.
“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”
The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.
“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”
Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.
To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.
“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”
“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”
Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.
Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.
(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.
“Lead the way, my lord”
She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.
“Welcome to Kattegat princess”
He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.
(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.
Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.
Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.
“So what brings you here princess?”
“War I am afraid”
“War?”
“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”
“So you ran?”
“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”
Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.
“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”
“How did you respond?”
“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”
“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”
“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”
“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”
“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”
“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”
“Definitely”
“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”
She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.
Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.
“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”
He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?
There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.
“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”
“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”
“Ride?”
“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”
“You mean I go up in that?”
“Hey, she is a lady”
Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.
As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.
“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”
“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”
“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”
“She sounds like a lovely woman”
“She was”
(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.
Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.
“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”
“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”
They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.
“This feels strange”
“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”
“Me neither”
She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.
With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.
“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”
“What?”
“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”
Requests are open!
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lavender-romancer · 9 months
Text
Winter
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict
You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness
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”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.
You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.
"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.
"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.
"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.
"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."
"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.
"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.
"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.
"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.
Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.
When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.
"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.
"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.
"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.
"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.
"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.
"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.
"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.
For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.
"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.
"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.
"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.
Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.
Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.
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crowwritesaway · 6 months
Text
Ivar the Boneless Loyal Friend, Raven VI
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“You’re telling me she still sees him.” Raven scoffed, walking beside Sebastian. “Yes. She goes every night.” He said, turning to glance at her. “Well, it seems like I need to pay him a visit.”
He nodded. “Arrange a meeting. That’s be all for now.” She said, dismissing him. “Of course.” He replied, walking off.
She sighed. She has to break it off with Ivar. Or I have to get rid of that plaything. Hmmm, clearly I can’t let her decide. For someone who’s next in line for the throne. We’re doomed. She rubbed her forehead.
“And what is my woman doing here?” Hvitserk asked, hugging her from behind. “Taking care of a problem.” You leaned against his back.
“I missed you.” He whispered softly. You smiled, there was nothing more that brought you peace than being in his arms. “I missed you too.”
“Is everything okay? You seemed troubled.” Hvitserk insisted, he hated seeing you like this. He wanted to know to see if he could help you.
“Just something that needs to get fixed.” Hvitserk raised a brow. You were hiding something. Ivar was right. Lately, you had been acting strange. What could it be?
“My love.” You turned around and put your hand on his cheek. He looked down at you, smiling he answered, “Yes.” “I know I have not been myself but I promise. I will be better by tomorrow.” He hummed. He adored you. Trusted you. He laid his forehead against yours. Licking his lips, his dark eyes stared back at your grey eyes. “Are you done for today?” He gripped onto your love handles. You breathlessly replied, “No.” You cursed your duty in your mind. “That’s too bad.” Your back arched. “Hmmm.” You bit your lip. “What have I said about biting my precious lips?” He mockingly asked you. “Not to.” You mischievously replied. “Exactly. Only I can.”
“My heart.” He reluctantly pulled away. “My love.” You said, sighing. I’m lying to him. I’m lying to Ivar. “I’m always with you.” “Forever and ever.” You said finishing his sentence.
“I trust you will be done with whatever is tormenting you.” You nodded. “However, if by tomorrow, I see you frown. I’ll have to know.” He swore. You bit the inside of your cheek. He wasn’t playing around. You knew that. “It’ll be done.” He pulled you towards him by your waist. “I have to go.” You mumbled, leaving your head on his chest. “I know. Before I go, look up.” You furrowed your eyebrows. What?
You looked up. Hvitserk leaned down and pulled you into a heated kiss. You instinctively closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He groaned into the kiss. He gripped your love handles as he guided you back into a tree. “W-wait.” You tried to say. He hinted at you to wrapped your legs around him by tapping you on your left thigh. You shook your head. I need to think. I need to go solve the. The…what was I going to do?
Hvitserk have you a kiss on your neck before taking a step back. You leaned back on the tree. You chest was moving up and down. He looked at you with lustful eyes. “I love you.” He said, smiling. You stared back at him. He waited. “I love you too.” You smiled softly at him.
You managed get a hold of yourself. “Let’s head back.” Hvitserk gestured for you to walk beside him. “Mmmhmm…” You walked over to him.
You both made it out the forest. “I’ll see you around, my heart.” He kissed you and walked off.
You glanced around. “Esperanza. Where is she?” You thought to yourself. You walked over to a maid that belonged to Esperanza. “Esta Esperanza en su habitación. Is Esperanza in her room?” You whispered to the maid. “Si.” She shakily whispered back.
You nodded, made you way to Esperanza’s room. You sneakily entered the house. You didn’t want anyone to notice you and report your presence. Although you had a feeling that Ivar would connect the dots sooner or alter.
You walked into her room. “Esperanza.” She was brushing her hair. She was startled by your presence. She moved to get up. “Don’t. Sit down.” You locked the door.
“Have you ended it?” You said, motioning the unsaid word with your hands.
“Uhh, y-yeah. It’s done.” She said, looking unsure. You leaned forward, saying, “Really.”
You coldly laughed. “That’s not what I’ve been told.” “I-I…are you going to believe a stranger over me.” She said, putting a hand over chest. Yes, I would. Sebastian is devoted to me.
“I’m not joking. You, him, and me are going to have a little chat.” “No!” She angrily refused. “That or I’ll deal with it.” She pursued her lips. She’ll probably kill him. “Fine.” She had no choice.
“Great. I’m glad we came to an understanding.” You clapped your hands. “Set up the arrangement for tonight. At your usual place.” You turned the knob and exited her room. Behind you left a fuming Esperanza.
You bumped into someone as you attempted to leave the house unnoticed. You glance down. Margrethe. She dropped the clothes from the fall.
“Oh, here. Let me help.” You bend down and quickly picked up the clothes. Margrethe was blushing. She couldn’t tell you to stop. It would be offensive. “Here. Sorry about the clothes.” You apologized, you were too lost in your thoughts.
“What are you doing?” You heard Ivar say. “Correcting my mistake.” You replied, looking over your shoulder. Ivar was standing there glaring at Margrethe. He was using his crutches. “Leave.” He ordered Margrethe. Margrethe nodded, leaving quickly before anything bad would happen.
“I thought you would be outside.” Ivar told you. “Oh yeah. I was on my way.” He frowned. At this time, you would be with your men. Ordering them to train. And preparing for that attack you had told him about.
“What where you doing?” He asked, staring at you. “I was taking a nap.” He tilted his head. A nap. Since when do you take naps.
“I was tired. I know it sound weird but I-I had a headache.” You rubbed your head to sound convincing. Ivar nodded. He understood. You were lying to him. He knew you too well. He did ask Hvitserk to see what you were hiding but apparently he needed to do it himself. “Are you better?” Ivar pretended to be concerned. “Yeah, all better. I gotta go.” Ivar nodded. “Yeah. Go ahead.” He said, trying to read you.
“Okay. Bye.” You hurriedly walked away. Shit. Fuck. A nap. Seriously.
Ivar narrowed his eyes. He watched you leave. I need to figure this out before I lose my mind. I’ll join her later. And if I have to, I’ll follow her.
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ubbesbabymama · 1 year
Text
We have a problem.
↳ Pairing. Ivar the Boneless.
↳ Summary. In where Ivar despises how much he admires you.
↳ Word count. 1.9K.
↳ Warnings. Mention of violence(? I mean, the show is violent, heated moment but not smut.
↳ Note. You could say it’s kind of an enemies to lovers, but a bad one so sorry for that.
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For the love of the gods, he despises you. You make him use his manners even when he doesn’t feel like it, you make him say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ as if he’s not your king, and you even give him the same look his brothers uses to give him when he gave an idea and they didn’t even think about it. He definitely hates you.
But he’s not going to attempt to harm you, oh he will never.
“Get ready, we’re going to study the battlefield,” He says when his army and you are finished making camp in England.
He grunts when you ignore him, instead holding your cup to a thrall so she can fill it with some ale.
“Please,” He murmurs.
“Great, let’s go my king.” You chant, standing up and starting to walk to one of the horses, with some men following you. He rolls his eyes.
“I hate when you do that,” He says when you both are already on the way to the field where the fight is gonna take place.
“You may be my king but I’m not a slave, you treat me like an equal even if we are not in your eyes.” You say.
You are his strongest warrior, his right hand if we are being honest, with the hate and everything. He’s certain that you’re a far better tactician than he is and that same methodical thinking that he has is what makes you the second most dangerous person in his kingdom, after him. You never show your full potential but your smug attitude towards him is enough to know that you are what you talk, and for that he hates you. Because he admires you so much that he can’t help but to put you in the same position he has his father.
“Oh, a wood I see,” You murmur with a smirk.
“It will be difficult to fight here,” He says.
“Say who?” You ask and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Look around, my king.”
And he does, he looks around trying to see whatever the fuck you’re seeing but he can’t think of a decent strategy that involves these enormous trees.
“You have lost your mind, we definitely can’t fight here.” He shrugs and you sigh.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Watch your mouth.” He snaps, his breathing already increasing at the anger starting to bubble inside of him.
“I said, don’t be stupid,” You repeat slowly, making sure that you pronounce every word and he swears that if it wasn’t because of how much he needs your skills you would be dead right there and then. “This time we brought more archers than we usually do.”
You get off your horse and start walking to a tree that it’s easy to climb. Ivar looks at you with curiosity.
“They will expect us to fight them there,” You point to where the land doesn’t have trees. “For that’s the way we normally fight, but we can give them a welcome before the real fight. Lower their number as much as we can.”
“With archers.” He hums and you nod, taking your own arch and arrow and aiming at him.
“With archers.” You murmur and he smiles when you shoot, hitting a deer that was several meters away from him. “That will definitely be a good way of starting the fight.”
“Starting? You just want to start the fight here?” He asks, watching you walk to him after climbing off the tree.
“Obviously.” You roll your eyes and he sighs for the nth time. “We will have men where is clear and men hiding along the path from where they are gonna come from. We will force them to fight here, if they try to run back they will face our men, and if they try to run straight…”
“They will face our men.” Ivar murmurs, smirking.
He doesn’t see you again till the next day when is the time to fight, he made sure everybody was aware of the plan and made sure to position you by his side, to keep an eye on you he says.
“You know I can defend myself right?” You tell him when you’re on positions.
“And?”
“You always put me by your side when we are fighting,” You say and he ignores that, looking straight to where the enemy is supposed to get intercepted by the archers. “If you want to protect me so much just say it.”
“Who says I want to protect you?” He snarls with feigned disgust. “I have to, for I remind you that you’re my second in command.”
“Are you sure, my king?” You chuckle and he looks at you. “Are you sure that’s all I am?”
He hates you. Because you know that all his hate is a fucking acting to hide his true feelings, because you know he dies to have you and you use that to your advantage to get under his skin.
“And if you’re more so what?” He snaps.
“Then go to my tent if I make it out alive.” You laugh, and just in time some of the enemies come from out of the wood.
And just like you said, it was a small number, the others were probably dead or fighting with the other group of warriors on the other side.
“Let’s do this, my king.” You say excited, and he smiles. You adore to fight.
You fight without a care in the world, laughing, smiling and enjoying the slaughtering you were making, with him not too far away watching your back by throwing his axe and making a slaughtering of his own.
His army win, as he imagined, and he can’t be more proud of his army, and you.
Late at night he finds himself crawling to your tent, finding you taking a bandage off your thigh, showing a kind of deep wound.
“I didn’t see that earlier, when did you get it?” He asks, not waiting for you to give him permission to enter and doing it anyways, he sits in front of you.
“I didn’t say you can come in.”
“When. Did. You. Get. It.” He grunts. He can’t believe you got hurt when he was supposed to be protecting you without your knowledge.
“It was when we were making sure they were all dead, one used his last breath to try to do some damage and he cut me. It’s not as deep as it seems, it’s just that it opened when I was moving around.” You explain.
He crawls a little more till he’s sitting sideways in front of your open legs. It’s just now that he realizes that you’re just wearing an undergarment, a really thin one.
With shaky hands he takes the bowl with a cloth that you have on the floor and just when he’s gonna start cleaning the open wound he gets distracted with the amount of skin on display, his stare going up so slowly he’s sure you notice. And you do.
“You came into my tent to see my chest, my king?” You say in a mocking tone and he looks to the cloth in his hand.
He stays like that till he feels your hand on his chin, making him look up. You shrug.
“At least clean my wound first and the you’ll have all time in the world to stare,” He abruptly moves his face from your grip and you laugh.
But he puts the bowl on the floor and climbs onto your bed, sitting by your side and forcing himself to show confidence when he takes your leg and put it on his thigh, you take the bowl for him, not giving attention to the fact that the little dress scrunched up with your new position.
Slowly, with a patience he doesn’t have he starts to clean your wound, grimacing like he’s the one in pain when he feels you sucking a breath. Then, he takes the clean bandage and wrap it nicely around the wound and stay there, with his hands on your knee and thigh. He looks at you.
“You gave me permission to come in.” He murmur and you frown.
“I didn’t.”
“Before you jumped on killing the saxons, you did,” You raise your eyebrows remembering. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have come.”
“Right.”
You stay in a confused silence, confused because you seem to be in peace while he’s nervous and fidgeting with the closeness.
“What’s wrong, are you injured too?” You ask.
“We have a problem.”
“Uh? Something’s wrong?” You sit straight and just when you are going to put the leg down he stops you.
“I want to lay with you.” You suck a breath, just because you didn’t really believe he would give the first step. “For more than one time.”
“What does that mean?” He looks at you like he does everyday, wanting to shake your pettiness.
“It means that I want to be your man, and have you for myself everyday, not just for one night. I want to make you my queen, that’s what it means.” He says everything in one breath and this is the first time that he actually leaves you speechless. “I want you to just… go to bed with me.”
You stay silent, watching his hands and not looking up not even when he squeezes your thigh. He starts to fidget again.
“And where��s the problem in everything you just said?” You murmur.
“Uh?”
“You said we have a problem, where is it?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.
“The problem is that a cripple wants you, the most powerful shieldmaiden in my whole army,” He grunts. “A man that can’t fucking satisfy—,”
“There you go being stupid again,” You snort softly, while simultaneously moving till you are straddling him and letting him rest his back on your bed, you lean till both of your chests are touching. “Let me remind you that I been knowing you for a long time and I know firsthand that it can work.”
“That’s not true.” He whispers, grabbing your hips.
“I have seen you spy on me when we are raiding and I have to bathe on rivers and trust me,” He looks behind you, not wanting to look you in the eyes. “I could see that it works.”
He grips your hips again and just when he is about to say something foul out of embarrassment you crash your lips with his and right away he moans, his left hand flying to grab the back of your neck to keep you in place, wanting to dominate you but the way you roll your hips distract him.
“Fuck…” He whispers when you bite his lower lip, he softly slaps your ass and you moan in his mouth.
“Again, please,” You whisper and he does just that, smacking your ass again while attentively watching your expression, he does it again. “Fuck, my king.”
He gives you one hard smack that has you gasping, you look at him and he’s dead serious.
“My name.”
“Ivar.”
“Exactly.” You sigh and lean to give him a sweet kiss. “That’s the name that should be leaving your lips.”
“We have another problem.” You murmur right into his mouth.
“What is it?” He whispers, entertained with your ass, caressing it.
“I have to put up with you from now on.”
He grunts.
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underscorewriting · 1 year
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Taking Care…
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader
Warnings: none, maybe a tiny bit of angst?
Words: 844
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A comfortable silence surrounded them as they watched the fire burn. Her fingers softly combing through his dark hair, making his eyes closed in satisfaction. Chuckling softly she watched him, watching how his lashes barely brushed his cheeks, how his mouth held the smallest smile, barely visible but still there. A low disproving hum escaped him as she stopped brushing through his, letting her hand just rest on top of his hair, feeling for any remaining braids she couldn't see in the light.
Opening one eye, he shot her a glare making her try to hide her giggle, placing one hand over his eyes, shushing him. Smiling softly he leaned back into her, letting her continue her work. Humming a soft tune she concentrated back on his hair, making sure it wasn't knotted anymore, before rinsing it with water again, watching the last of blood wash out of it. Biting her lip in worry of it being his own, she again thread her fingers through his hair, carefully feeling for any sign of a wound.
Softly taking her hand that was covering his eyes he brought it down to his mouth, kissing her palm lovingly, calming her nerves slightly making her sigh in relief. She was used to treating his wounds, but the ones on his head still worried her the most, not knowing what it could cause to the parts she didn't see. Still placing soft, featherly kisses on her palm and each of her finger tips, the young man couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, leaning into her touch, letting her take care of him.
They both barely said a word when he came back, just needing to feel each other close. Needing to be in the safe haven they created with one another. Tugging on his hair, she grinned down at him with a glimmer of mischievous in her eyes as his own fluttered open to find hers, his heart melting at the sight in front of him. His lover looking down at him with the most truest admiration, her lips pulled into a grin as she tugged on his hair to get his attention, not wanting to break the oh so comforting silence.
Raising an eyebrow he felt his own lips pull into a small smile. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in their as she made her way to his lips. Leaving tingles in their wakening, making the young king shiver slightly under her touch. As her lips finally reached his, he couldn't contain himself as he cupped the back of her neck, pulling he closer, deepening the kiss. Soft gasps slipped out of her mouth making him catch them with the kiss, smirking softly.
With heaving chests, Ivar let his hand slip onto her cheek, caressing the skin softly, making her smile tenderly at him. Her eyes held love. The love he never thought he'd receive. The love he knew was shining even brighter in his own eyes when he looked at her.
"I was so scared, Ivar." Her hand softly playing with his hair, not having the strength to find his eyes anymore. Showing weakness was something so fragile, they both still weren't sure wether it was alright for them to be so open about their fears. Ivars eyes softened as he heaved himself into the position opposite her, taking her hands. "Whatever for?" Worry settled on his features as her eyes welled with tears. Shaking her head she realized how hideous her fear was. He was Ivar the boneless, nothing could or would be able to hurt him. He was protected by the gods.
But as the months went on her fear started to settle in, more reason flooded her mind. What if the gods suddenly stopped protecting him, making him vincible, easier to hurt. More months passed and the fear was causing her many sleepless nights, making her visit the seer almost daily, slowly starting to obsess over her husbands wellbeing. Ivar was fragile, he wouldn't admit it but he was and she knew it. The whites in his eyes turning blue, his bones breaking, being her biggest fear.
A small tear slipped down her as she turned her head away from him. "You need someone strong, I shouldn't worry." Chuckling softly he pulled her onto his lap, being careful enough not to put too much weight on his legs. “What I need is for my wife to worry about me when I’m gone for battle.” His fingers now drawing small shapes softly on the outside of her thighs. A small smile now finds its way onto her face as she nuzzled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent, calming herself.
Smiling to himself Ivar began running his hair through her tangled hair, an evidence that she, again, was spending more time taking care of him and his needs than tending to her own. Placing a featherly kiss onto the top of her hair, he hushed her quietly, stopping her thoughts from torturing her.
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starogeorgina · 7 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, oral sex
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.02
“Once we lure them into position, I’ll give you the signal, then you’ll light the bastards up—Ivar stop,” you laugh, feeling his hands roam over your body. “I’m trying to help you plan a war.”
“I’m aware.”
“It’s difficult to concentrate when you do that.”
“Do what?” Ivar smirks, kissing your neck. He continues to squeeze at your breasts over your dress. His two favourite things were fucking and fighting, so talking battle strategies was hard for im. Ivar begins kissing your neck, leaving purple marks as a way of reminding others that you are his. “I’m not doing anything you don’t like.”
You turn your head and kiss him. Your lips linger as your mind begins to race with a thousand thoughts. It hadn’t been long since you lost your baby, and you hadn’t been intimate since.
Ivar rubs his finger along your cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you say, kissing him again. “I want you, Ivar. I want you to do more things I like.”
He tilts his head to the side and gives you a small smile. Ivar smooths your hair out of your face, and the gaze in his eyes somehow brought you comfort; it was as if he was looking deep into your soul and knew what you were thinking. “I will not rush you, Drifa,” he says. “But I know something we can do, something we both like.”
Seeing the mischievous look on his face, you raise your brows and ask, “What's that?”
Ivar smirks in amusement as the sword in your hand rests at the top of his neck. He says, “You fight dirty; I’ve taught you well.”
You toss your sword to the side, pick up two axes, and hand one to Ivar. He told you that non-Viking armies didn’t see women as much of a threat; he wanted you to prove them all wrong. Ivar took great pride in coaching you in sword fighting, throwing spears, and aiming your bow and arrow.
“Perhaps one of my brothers will spar with you later.”
You pull a face and say, “Ubbe or Hvitserk. Last time I sparred with Sigurd, your mother was mad at me for hurting him.”
With a boyish smile on his face, Ivar says, “You knocked his front tooth out; it was a wonderful thing to witness.”
You’d always hated Sigurd and the way he treated Ivar and his mother. You think back to that day and how you and Sigurd got into a fight because he kept insulting your dead parents. At first, his brothers laughed until the first blood was drawn. You feel awful thinking about Hvitserk trying to separate you and accidentally backhanding him.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice Ivar talking to you until he places his hand on your waist. “What are you thinking about?"”
“The time I burst Hvitserk lip.”
“Hvitserk adores you.” Ivar throws his axe, which hits the mark on the tree. “So do Ubbe and Bjorn. As did my mother.” Ivar takes the other axe from your hand and repeats the action, hitting the mark perfectly again. “Sigurd is scared of you because he is weak and knows he cannot compete.”
“Have I told you recently how much I love you?”
Ivar blushes. “No, but I never tire of hearing it.”
You kiss him on the cheek before going to retrieve the axes so you can continue throwing them. You continue training until the sun begins to disappear behind the clouds and the sky quickly becomes dark as the weather changes quickly.
The rainfall is heavy, causing the mud to splash up onto Ivar’s face and neck while he dragged his body along the ground as you headed home. Seeing the pain in Ivar’s face, you suggest taking shelter from the rain underneath a large tree. You sink down beside Ivar and lean your head on his shoulder.
You sit in silence until Ivar lets out a deep breath and asks, “Why doesn’t it bother you?”
“What?”
“Being married to a cripple.”
You roll your eyes. Every time Ivar felt self-consciousness, he would question why anyone loved him. His insecurity became worse when his brother told him; nobody loved him, and everyone felt sorry for him. “I’ve told you to stop listening to Sigurd.”
“It’s true, though; I am a cripple. And my weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
“Your legs aren’t a weakness, Ivar. They are your greatest strength. People will always underestimate a cripple.”
Ivar opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off with a kiss. You brush your nose against his as you straddle his lap, careful not to put too much pressure on him. The feral look in Ivar’s eyes sparks something inside you; all you wanted was for him to devour you. “You are Ivar the boneless, the strongest and most violent man I’ve ever met.”
Ivar grips your jaw with a devilish glint in his eyes. “You think I’m violent?”
“I think you're the most bloodthirsty Viking to ever exist.”
“Stand up.”
Following his order, you stand up. Seeing Ivar lower his trousers so his cock can spring free, you pull up the bottom of your dress. He grins, clasping his hands around your thighs. Ivar brings you in closer so he can put his mouth on your aching core. You let out a moan when you fell his warm tongue swipe over your folds before turning his attention to your clit.
“Mmmm.. Ivar, just like that,” you encouraged, “please don’t stop!”
He sucks and flicks his tongue on your abused clit, speeding up his actions until you cum, legs shaking around his head. When you come down from your high, you kneel down and twirl your tongue over the head of Ivar’s hard cock before taking him full into your mouth. He uses one hand to grip your hair, while Ivar uses the other to pinch your nipple, as Drool dribbles down your chin while you bob your head. Tears roll down your cheeks as you gag, feeling his cock start to jolt in your mouth. Ivar tightens his grip as spurts of hot cum shoot down your throat.
He grunts, “Swallow all of it like a good wife.”
Sitting up, you wipe the saliva away with the back of your hand. Ivar shuffles to put his cock back into his trousers. You kiss the palm of Ivar’s hand when he cups your face. “We should get back; it’s almost time for supper, and we both need to bathe.”
You take another mouthful of ale as your eyes jump between the brothers sitting around the table. There was a weird atmosphere, and you were trying to figure out why. Ubbe and Ivar feasted, laughed, and drank ale while Hvitserk looked nervous. He kept glancing at Sigurd, who had been smirking most of the night. When you returned, you had bathed and changed into a clean dress, while Ivar remained in the same mud-covered clothes. The only reason his hands were free from dirt was because he washed your back and hair.
Sigurd suddenly burst out laughing, gaining the attention of his brothers. “Do you all remember when Margrethe said Ivar couldn’t pleasure a woman? Well, today I found out that’s not true.”
You and Ivar look at each other and ask, “What?”
“Me and Hvitserk were coming back from a hunt and saw-”
“I did not look,” Hvitserk says quickly, not letting his brother finish his sentence. You patted the back of his hand; although he was a menace at times, Hvitserk was respectful and would never deliberately watch such a thing.
“Enough,” Ubbe says. “We will hear no more of this.”
Sigurd ignores his elder brother and continues talking. “I’m just sharing that I’m happy for Ivar. At least it can finally put the rumors of Drifa carrying another man’s child to rest.”
“It was you who told others that!”
He shrugs. “I stand corrected; I can tell others I know Ivar gets hard because I caught you with his dick in your mouth.”
Ubbe and Hvitserk stare at him, unimpressed.
Tears of embarrassment swell in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You glance at your husband to see his reaction to his brother's taunting. Ivar peels the last bit of meat from the bones of his meal off with his teeth, then tosses the bare animal bone onto the table. “What kind of man talks about his brother's wife in that way?”
The amused smile drops from Sigurd’s face, “I’m—”
“I swear to the gods that if I ever hear you talk about my beautiful Drifa in such a way again, brother, you’ll leave me no other choice but to kill you.”
The room falls silent as Ivar’s threat lingers in the air. Sigurd looks to his brothers, but when neither of them say anything, he storms off, leaving the rest of you to enjoy the remainder of your night.
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bjornswoman · 4 months
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Destruction XII
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Author's note: Hello, happy New Year to you all! Sorry for being too late to post the last part of these series. However, here it is I hope you will enjoy it!
Pairing: Modern!Ivar x Reader.
Genre: Modern!au, series, fluff, drama, angst.
Warnings: Strong language, mentions of pregnancy.
Destruction | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI
A couple of months later.
You had forgotten the sound of your own giggle the past year. However, those two last months were enough to prove you wrong and remind you that you still contained the ability to feel happy and laugh — finally.
“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed laughing at your friend Torvi. There had been a long time since you last met each other. Actually, the last time you saw her was before your wedding.
A wedding that never really happened because Ivar decided to take you away. He had confessed that he loved you that same day as well. You could recollect the memory as it was yesterday.
Flashback – Two months ago.
“It’s not what you believe, (Y/N). It wasn’t just revenge for me. You mean a lot to me. You know I am just not good at saying those things and you, also, know that I can be dickhead sometimes. Don’t cry for me. I - I care for you.”
Ivar had said and kissed you like his life was depending on this kiss – like both of your life were depending on this kiss.
“Don’t get married, you don’t deserve being treated like that. Dump that asshole.”
You needed to hear these words back then – you needed a motive to stop that madness. After all, you didn’t love Mason, but Ivar.
You didn’t treat Mason right, so leaving him before this mistake would be the only thing you would do to save him from being miserable next to you – because of you.
“I won’t, Ivar.”
“You are mine.”
“I am yours.”
End of flashback.
“Oh, I’m and that’s not even the end of it.” Torvi continued speaking and got you out of your thoughts about that particular day. “Your mother was about to kill Hvitserk when he announced that Ivar had stolen you – those were the exact words he used.” She laughed. "Besides you know the love your mother contains for Hvitserk." You both laughed at her remark.
It was well-known that your mother loathed the sons of Ragnar – especially Hvitserk. She would call him peccant or sinful. Generally, she would criticize his way of living. Not that Ivar was her favourite brother though, but Hvitserk worked as a red flag for her.
You could picture your mother's face after hearing Hvitserk announcing that the wedding was over because you run away with his brother. You were sure long before Torvi told you about the events of that evening that she was furious – that was the main reason you hadn't even tried to contact her since then.
"What about Mason?" You hesitated to say his name after the way you treated him, though he wasn't honest to you either – as he lied to you about the events of the past and blamed Ivar about his doing.
Anyways, you felt guilt of your own lies, because you acted the very same way you accused Ivar of when you walked away on him.
"Oh well, I heard that he is fine though he and the boys are distant after what happened. He blames them for helping Ivar. Anyways, Ubbe told me that Ivar mentioned that he is after Freydis again."
You could understand the way Mason felt, but you couldn't focus on this after some names were mentioned successively.
"Ivar?" You muttered before you could stop yourself.
"Yes, Freydis told him."
You felt jealous once again about the same thing – you were back to the beginning of this messed up story. You felt weird after everything that happened the last two months in contrast with what Torvi just told you. Maybe you were just overreact, but still you couldn't bear lose again.
Maybe your love wasn't the healthiest one , but it was strong enough to swallow you if he hurt you like he did previously.
"Don't tell me you are jealous." Torvi said smiling after receiving no response from you.
"I'm not jealous of her." You fought back and she chuckled. It was too obvious that you were lying.
"You didn't really tell me what happened with Ivar after you left." She mentioned and you smiled at the memory.
Flashback – Two months ago.
Your heart was full after a very long time it felt half without him. You felt happy again being close to the person who you loved the most. Probably this wasn't the best way to come back together – not even close to be honest – but what was worth it for you was the fact that you were sitting on the passenger's seat of his car and he was on the driver's seat taking you away somewhere that only he knew.
Nobody spoke a word though – an awkward silence was surrounding the car. You didn't know what to say – you didn't know whether you had to say something or not. You knew Ivar by heart and yet you couldn't predict what was inside his head. You knew when he was mad, happy or sad, but you couldn't say what was bothering him.
"Ivar." You breathed and turned your eyes at his figure. "Do-do you love me?" Your voice was barely coming out as a whisper. It was a silly question to ask – even after he crashed your wedding and told you that he cared for you – you wanted to hear him saying this particular word. You hadn't heard him saying it – at least not to you.
"What kind of question is that? Didn't I told that I care for you less than an hour ago?" You could say by hearing the tone of his raised voice that he was getting annoyed by your question. You were aware of the fact that he wasn't good with words – especially this kind of words, but you wanted to hear him saying just for once.
"Why is it so difficult for you to say it again? Tell me, do you love me, Ivar?" You raised your voice out of frustration. You couldn't understand the reason why it had to be that hard for him to tell you about his feelings.
The possibility that he didn't feel that way came in your mind. Maybe he was just possessive when it came to you or it could be obsession the feeling he contained for you. Those could be the actual reasons why he couldn't express his love fore and that would be because it was non-existent.
"Yes!" Ivar yelled with obvious anger at you and hit his hands on the wheel.
"Yes, what?" You pressured him more as you were angry and disappointed at the time because of his inability to express himself to you – the person he was supposed to love.
Ivar hit the brake pedal so forcefully that if you weren't wearing the seatbelt you would be out of the car when it stopped. You turned your face at him and he had already focused his furious blue eyes on you.
"No, Ivar, you don't." With those last words you stormed out of his car and started walking at the opposite way from the one he was driving on. Though, you didn't get to make it far away because his hand grabbed yours tightly and forced you to turn back and face his wrath.
"What do you think you are doing? And what the Hel are you saying?" He growled on your face as you were trying to break-free from his grip to no avail.
You breathed heavily and looked his angry face.
"All you feel about me is some kind of authority and possessiveness as I'm one of your belongings." You spoke and motioned on your hand he was holding firmly. "The worst part of it is that it isn't even new to me to get this treatment from you. You don't love me, because you don't know how to and that's due to the fact that you feel that you don't deserve the love the others are trying to give you. The only thing you know how to do is hurting these people with your childish behaviour." You continued telling him with tears falling from your eyes – tears that you wiped away with your free hand.
Ivar was looking you without speaking, he was just looking at you quite shocked. Behind his anger you could spot guilt and redeem. He knew himself that you were right and that was the most painful part for both of you.
"The next one who will come in your life and try to give you the love you deserve let her." After these words, more tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You grabbed your gown on the palms of both of your hands and took a couple of tiny steps believing that Ivar would let you walk away from him – from his life.
However, such a thing didn't happen because he used the hand of yours he was gripping and pulled back – this time he held you closer to him your bodies were touching. You tried to fight back again, but he was too strong for you in such way that when he pulled you the lacework of your dress was ripped.
This time he even stopped holding your hand and he went for your throat. His grip was as tight or strong as it was on your hand, but it was firm enough to pull your face closer to his.
"Too late for that." Ivar said in raspy voice. "There is someone who has already made my heart beat for her – who have made me feel all of the things you've said before. I didn't know how it felt to be truly loved by somebody because of the problem I faced. I thought everyone pitied me – the poor cripple – until you came. You saw me what love really means – what it is – and I sent you away. When our paths crossed again, I thought that all I felt for you was just lust or possessiveness for a woman who used to be my partner. However, I got hold of my feelings – of my true feelings – after our first kiss in the bowling alley, when I called you to come to that bar to tell you about my conflict with Mason and after we got drunk and went to my house and slept together, remember? In fact, all this was just an excuse because I wanted to see you."
When he finished, Ivar let go off you throat and one of his hands touched your arm as the other when on one of his pockets. His touch was really genuine on your hand.
"I remember." You mumbled and smiled as you remembered that particular night you spent together.
"You want me to tell you that I love you, but you know that I'm difficult with words. Though, for you, I'll say it, but before I have to do something else." Ivar stopped and afterwards his hand got out of his pocket holding a red-whine velvet box.
You looked first at the box shocked and then at Ivar.
"Ivar, you don't have to do that just to prove your words to me." You tried to say, but he stopped you by taking your hand in his, after he opened the small box. As you expected, it contained a ring, but it was not just a random ring he picked. It was the ring you had told him years ago that you wanted to be the one you would be proposed with. It was a unique design which you couldn't find easily, but he did for you.
"I love you." Ivar finally confessed and you could even spot a tear on his cheek. His forehead touched your own as he eyes found yours. "Will you marry me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" He asked and you smiled widely.
At the sound of his words, you felt your heart hitting your chest with just force that it was going to rip out of your body.
"Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Ivar Lothbrok!" You exclaimed and kissed him passionately. This kiss wasn't like anything you had experienced. It was different from any other you had shared. One that both of you were expressing within it your deepest feelings about the other person.
When you stopped, Ivar pulled you closer to him again and placed the ring on your finger.
End of flashback.
After that moment that you would never forget about, you spent two months away from everyone you knew. It was just the two of you in the middle of nowhere. However, you had to return back in Kattegat to face the real life and what came after the decisions you made.
Ivar's family welcomed you back and they were glad to hear about your engagement – though they could see it coming. They knew better that you two about the feelings you shared.
So, there you were, talking with Torvi about the days that came after your almost-wedding with Mason.
Torvi looked at you with narrowed eyes and a huge smile on her face.
"And after this you are still jealous? You are crazy girl!" Torvi exclaimed and both of you laughed again. "No, I am being serious now." She said and you both burst into laughter again. "No, seriously now you are getting married with the love of your life!" You smiled and looked back at your feet.
"And that's not even the end of it."
"What do you mean?" Your friend asked confused and your smile became even more wider than it was already. "(Y/N)?" She asked you again anxiously this time.
As an answer, your hand moved on your stomach and you caressed it meaningful. In Torvi's face formed a smile identical to yours.
"Don't tell me that you...." She exclaimed and you tried to prevent her from let everyone know about your little secret.
"Shhhh, I am, but Ivar doesn't know yet. I am going to tell him tonight and then we are sharing it with the others. Keep it for me, okay?" You spoke on a soft tone of voice and Torvi agreed happily before she congratulated you about your pregnancy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night.
The night sky was very beautiful – enchanting you could even say. But that wasn't the best part of the night, that part would be the fact that you were sitting next to your fiancé, trying to find the best way of telling him that you were expecting his child as he was engrossed in with laptop with work matters. You were away for so long and matters had piled up.
"Ivar, when do you think that we should get married?" You asked him out of the blue as you stood up and walked through the balcony. Ivar glanced at you for a quick second and then turned his attention back on his laptop.
"I don't know, but we should not rush. In three to four months, what do you think?" He proposed without looking at you and you smiled, because this conversation was taking the way you wanted.
"That won't be convenient. I think that it should happen in one or two months." You continued.
"Why so?"
"I'll have gained weight. I won't feet in any dress."
Your words caught him off guard. He abandoned the computer on the coffee-table and fixed his eyes on you confused.
"What do you mean?" Ivar asked as the edges of his mouth lifted and left the sofa to come closer to you. He stopped on when his body was behind yours.
"What do you want me to mean?"
"Don't riddle me, (Y/N)." His voice was stern and you couldn't help your little smirk. "Are you pregnant?" He asked as his body collided with yours and his muscular hands hugged your torso and stayed on your stomach. Your back was touching on his chest, so you couldn't see his facial expressions. "Tell me." He demanded impatiently and you smiled.
You knew how much he wanted a child – a daughter or a son. You were also aware of the fact that he was delighted when Freydis had told him that she was pregnant in the past and thought it was his child when it wasn't.
"Yes, Ivar." You whispered and tilted your head at the side to catch a glimpse of his reaction to your news. What you saw was a tear slipping from his eye and you smiled again. "Are you happy?"
"No." Your blood froze in your veins and your smile died on your lips. You turned so you could face him. "No, I am not just happy. I'm thrilled!" He exclaimed and you felt your heart beating normally in your chest again.
His hands closed you inside them and one of them caressed your hair softly.
"I love you, wife."
You giggled when you heard him calling you wife.
"I love you, husband."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @anotherfan07, @heavenly1927, @zvacu-te-pile-moje
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