#vikings x you

[milkb0nny]

The Aftermath of Intimacy

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 9: Aftermath

Summary: The shared moments after your intimate hours always were your favorite. His aftercare and love embraced you in Ivar's vulnerability. You loved it so much.

Note: Aftermath, but not violent. I thought of throwing in a different vibe after the rather sad 8th day. This one is sadly very short due to my very stressful week. Life was too much to handle this day, but I managed to create a very comforting prompt. Enjoy! 🤍

Warnings: aftercare, mentions of smut, slight nsfw

word count: 595

Ivar descended, lowering himself onto your body, his head coming to rest upon your chest. His breaths were deep and ragged and he was exhausted from the intimate moments you both shared before. Your hand traced soothing patterns up and down his spine, you enjoyed his weight on your body. The two of you were a sweaty mess, relieved yet exhausted. The air hung heavy with a heady mixture of shared desire and the intoxicating scent of your entwined bodies.

Both of you lay in the aftermath, a sweaty and tangled tableau of passion. Ivar’s heart pounded so strongly you felt his heartbeat on your lower stomach. It was a moment of vulnerability and closeness - a bridge between the raw intensity of your lovemaking and the quiet tenderness that followed.

Ivar, panting and visibly tired, slowly began to lift himself from your body, his blue eyes glancing at your smile. He reassured himself that you were okay, not hurting and alright. Soon his expression softened to a tender smile, as he dragged himself off of you. The room was filled with a gentle hush as Ivar, still catching his breath, shifted to rest beside you.

His fringes gently brushed against your face, an act of adoration. In times like these his anger vanished from the earth. No one else but you knew of his loving side, where not a single madness tormented him.

“Are you alright?” He murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. His questions was simple, but in that moment, they carried a weight of sincerity. Your eyes avoided his blue focus, looking down on his body. You rolled over, getting closer to his body.

Your voice hummed, “Yeah, Ivar.”

In this private sanctuary, away from the chaos of the outside world, he allowed himself to be not a warrior but a companion in the aftermath of shared intimacy. Leaning in, Ivar pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

His kisses after your shared intimacy were your favorite. His care and love flowed through your whole body, telling you how much he admired you. As Ivar deepened the kiss, the warmth of his embrace enveloped you. His arms dragged you closer you, pulling you on his warm body. Breaking the kiss, Ivar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or unspoken need. He didn’t want you to hurt, feel used or being scared.

“Trust me, I feel good,” you reassured him, whispering these words in his ears.

The man you shared your bed with hugged you, petting your head. His voice once again filled the room. “I worry that I am too rough with you, my love,” he admitted, looking down at you and meeting your sparkling eyes. Once again you reminded him of your angelic presence, of your strength and love.

You chuckled, kissing his collarbone as a response. Your touch comforted him and his body relaxed further, not needing to worry about your potential discomfort. Suddenly you shifted, sliding off of his body and slowly standing up. You covered yourselves in a long garment.

“I’ll get us something to drink and eat. Do you want something special, my great warrior?”

Ivar’s eyes lightened up, he nodded and smiled. Your pure, naked body in that see through garment charmed him, so much he almost wanted to drag you back into the bed.

Though, your sweetness was too kind and the young Ragnarsson wanted to feel loved and admired.

“Ale, and you as a dessert,” he replied to meet your chuckling laughter.

#ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Introduction/Part One

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

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

Word Count: 2445

Warnings: time travel being possible, bullying, getting chased by some very confused vikings, imprisonment

Masterlist Here

"Cmon Jason. Give it a rest," you heard one of his friends tell him, but you were already crossing the bridge to get away from them.

You'd came to the park after school to relax after yet another hellish day of studying. You were a history student, obsessed with the Vikings, and sadly for some reason Jason's enemy number one. Apparently, the frat boy still held a grudge for the time you rejected him last year and decided to make your life a misery.

As you were halfway across the bridge you heard laughing then footsteps and just as you went to turn you felt him grab your bag off your shoulder. Well, he tried. You grabbed it back, yelling "help!" As his other friend tried to help him pull it away. 

You glanced behind you to see if anyone was near but no. You were alone of the bridge 6 feet at least above the deep lake. "Dude!" You heard the friend again as your head whipped back around.

"fine!" Jason yelled as he let go of the bag just as you had attempted to tug it from him. "Wait no!" You heard his voice before you felt the wood dig into your back and then heard a sickening snap.

You screamed as you felt the wind rush past your face, hair whipping around as your body hurtled headfirst towards the water. You felt your head sink in and the water ring in your ears like church bells as your eyes screwed up tight.

You waited for your head to crash against the rocks but instead felt your legs hit the soft ground, your butt and shoulders soon following. Your head hit the ground gently as a groan left your lips. As your eyes opened you realised not only did you feel no water or soggy clothing but that a scattered sunlight was washing over your face. 

"What the-" you muttered as you sat up. Your guitar bag was still clutched in one hand, your backpack hooked around your elbow, and now your earphones had been tossed behind you during the fall. That however did not concern you as much as the overwhelming greenery.

The Forrest around you had winding trees up to the sky with whispers of squirrels and rabbits in the background. You pulled yourself to your feet as your eyes scanned the woods. "Where am I?" You muttered as you grabbed your headphones and shoved them in your bag. 

You checked your phone however there was not only no signal but now the time had become dashes alongside the battery percentage. The Wi-Fi and Bluetooth signals were now just colourful blobs and even when you tried opening the emergency number call it refused to let you punch in the digits. You sighed and turned it off, hoping that by the time you found your way out the Forrest it would have rebooted so you could call your parents or maybe even a hospital since you'd obviously hit your head very hard.

You put the phone in your bag and zipped it up, even using the number lock your mother insisted you put on it to keep your bag safe. You weren't sure which way to go. After all no matter where you walked you could either be going closer or further to whatever destination would be the safest.

Fuck it. You thought. There's only one way to find out. You walked through the forest, not even trying to not step on twigs or ruffle leaves since you were probably just far deeper into the campus woods than you'd ever been before. However, then you heard voices.

Well laughter really. At least three men. Your footsteps slowed encase Jason and his friends had somehow made you lose your mind and we're torturing you but no. Instead, you held back a gasp as you peaked through the leaves to see four men with their backs to you.

One was sat on a log playing with what looked like a dagger while another two practised throwing axes. Fuck. All three were dressed as if they were Vikings. Perhaps you'd been studying them too much and had officially lost your marbles.

Or perhaps the other Viking nerds in your school had formed a club. As you debated taking a step forward one of the men missed his throw causing another to yell out a jab. As the man span round to answer his eyes stopped when he saw you. His hand shot out to nudge the man next to him who turned around.

He was a brunette man with a long braid down how back "I'm Ubbe," the boy called as he stepped forward, "Who are you? Why are you here?" He called however your eyes wandered down then widened as you saw him gripping his axe.

"Tell us!" The boy who had missed called, stepping closer. Your eyes wandered to the third who was reaching for something in his belt when you finally made up your mind.

Run. You turned, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you. Your feet hammered against the dirt as their shouts echoed through the forest. You didn't dare glance back or stop for the branches whipping against your face. There was finally a break in the trees. Freedom. Safety you thought.

As you ran you arrived at the top of a hill. You turned to look down, expecting to see your campus when dread filled your blood. No this wasn't real. A village of Vikings now looked up at where you stood on the hill.

You stood for a moment panting as you overlooked it all. That was until you heard them again. "Stop right there!" Ubbe all but screamed. 

You ran again. To your left was a high cliff facing a grey blue ocean and to your right was 3 very angry looking Vikings. You decided to take your chances with the clueless as you barrelled down the hill into what looked to be like a market.

Despite being the least terrifying person here they all jumped out your way, gasping and screaming as you ran all while Ubbe and the others chased you. 

You were running towards a bridge by a stream and decided for one last second to glance behind you. They were just running around the corner when you felt a hand grab your foot as the other got swept up in the air.

It was as if your body took flight as you fell to the ground with a large thump. You groaned as you tried to pick yourself up just for a large hand to grab your shoulder and flip you on your back. 

As you stared at his electric blue eyes your own eyes widened. "Ivar?" You whispered and his eyes widened so much you wondered if it hurt however just as he went to speak Ubbe pulled him off him.

Ubbe. Your brain clicked. There's no possible way. It couldn't be. Surely not. Ubbes hand pulling you to your feet. "I asked you a question," he growled as you gasped for air. As much as you wanted to be tough and brave and all the other things these Vikings were being faced to face to Ubbe was too much as the spots began to cloud your vision and you felt your body fall limp as the world faded to black.

-

As you began to stir you half expected to open your eyes and see your dorm room, but the hard stick pressed against your spine made you doubtful. Your eyes opened to find yourself in a wooden cage in the corner of what looked like a bedroom. It was dark and suddenly felt very small as your hands grabbed the bars as you began to shake them.

“Fuck,” you grunted as you hit your hand against the frame but instead of it budging now your hand just hurt. Before you could try for any longer you froze when you saw the door slowly push open.

“I see what you mean,” a woman’s voice muttered as she approached your cage. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her or the men behind her, “What is she wearing?” she whispered.

“We don’t know,”

“We found her like this,”

“Do you think she’s a witch?” you felt your blood run cold at the man’s word.

The woman stood up and turned to what you soon realised were her sons. In fact, now you realised who they all were. It was Sigurd who’d claimed you may be a witch but how could he possibly be real? He was a tv character after all.

“Perhaps but we cannot know for sure yet,” Aslaug whispered to her son, “Can you speak child?” she called out to you as if she was shouting on a dog. Your head raised so you could get a better look, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“What are we going to do?” Ubbe asked. As the four spoke amongst themselves you realised one was missing. Ivar was nowhere to be seen.

“Your father should be home any day now. We will wait for him,” Aslaug finally determined, “I have never seen someone like this. I do not wish to find out what harm she can cause alone,” with that the four turned to leave, shutting the door and leaving you in the stale dark once more.

You sighed as you leaned back against the cage however as your eyes scanned the room you noticed your bags sitting in the corner making your head instantly perk up. You knew you didn’t have anything sharp in it but as your stomach rumbled you realised what you did need. Food.

As you began to wonder how you would get to your things you heard the door crack open. You looked up as Ivar dragged himself into the room, constantly checking over his shoulder before he shut the door and brought himself over to your cage. His eyes scanned your frame as you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly.

“Who are you?” he murmured, his eyes landing on your face, “and how do you know my name?” the silence that followed was only broken by the loud rumble of your stomach once more as you winced. “You’re hungry?” he asked.

Finally, you nodded, and a smile quirked onto his lips, “So you do understand?” you nodded again, “If you tell me who you are I’ll bring you something to eat,”

You paused as you decided if it was worth breaking the façade, you’d created but as your stomach churned you realised starving to death before Ragnar returned was not worth it. you whispered your name, but your voice was hoarse from lack of use.

Ivars’s head tilted slightly as his eyebrows knitted, “What a usual name,” he mused.

You bit back a laugh. “Coming from Ivar the boneless,” you muttered.

His eyes widened, a look of what you couldn’t tell if shock or rage or both washed over his face. “What did you call me?” he half yelled, grabbing onto the bars of the cage you were suddenly thankful for.

“It’s what everyone calls you!” you rushed out, pushing yourself as far away as possible, “In the textbooks that’s what legend says you were called I’m sorry,”

He paused, his hands slipping from the bar as the confused look returned, “What is a textbook?”

“Like a history book,” you said but that did little to explain it to him, “It’s like- “you paused trying to think what the closest thing to a Viking textbook was, “It’s like how you pass down stories in songs! We write them down in textbooks, so nobody forgets,”

Ivar paused for a moment as he finally relaxed again, “Where did you come from?” he asked, “And how do they know who I am? What have you told them?”

“I haven’t told them anything, my teachers they taught it to me,” you said, finally allowing yourself to sit at ease again, “I’m from the future,” the words felt foreign in your mouth as Ivar’s blue eyes widened.

“Prove it,”

“You’re Ivar the boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok,” you spoke but your voice was shaky as you tried to remember all you could, “Brother of Bjorn Ironside who explored the Mediterranean sea. Son of Aslaug. You go on to command the great heathen army,” you said and as you spoke Ivar looked like a child being read a bedtime story about pirates and mermaids, “You Ivar are a legend where I am from,” perhaps bending the truth a little but what would he know.

“And who- “

You cut him off this time when you felt your stomach lurch, “You said you would feed me. I won’t tell you anything else till you live up to your word,” you tried to sound firm, but it clearly wasn’t your style.

Still though Ivar nodded as he slowly began to drag himself away, “I shall return,” he said as he opened the door, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Don’t go anywhere,” he teased before shutting the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes as you sunk back into the wood behind you. “Oh god he really is nuts,” you whispered. Then again perhaps it was you that was nuts. After all you had just been talking to a Viking who’d died thousands of years ago.

General Taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate

Vikings Taglist: @bellroclucky03 @ringpopdust @hypocritic-trash-baby @tessakate

#vikings #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x you #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe ragnorsson x reader #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd ragnorsson x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd #sigurd snake eye x reader #hviserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnorsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[multific]

The Mistress of The Devil

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.

"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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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

#ivar #x female reader #x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #vikings ivar #vikings fanfiction #ivar imagine #ivar imagines #ivar ragnarson x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless smut #ivar the boneless x witch reader #vikings #vikings x reader #vikings x you #vikings imagine #vikings imagines

[miss-madness67]

What is a Viking? (Ubbe)

Prompt: When Ubbe follows Floki’s trails to the new land, he finds more than he expected: you. Slight AU, Ubbe’s not with Torvi.

The tall grass caresses your hands softly. The seagulls dance in the sky. A shiver runs through your body, the sea breeze is cold, especially at the peak of the cliff. From your position, you have visibility over the coast. Waves crash on the rocks to your left, and at your right, a vast sandy beach extends. You have been here for hours, it is your favorite spot. You love the land that you live in, even if recently there have been certain curious developments to your routine. Some time ago, from this same cliff, you were the first one who spotted him. The crazy man that spoke another language and crafted wood. He was in bad shape, malnourished, when he arrived at the shores in a tiny boat. You had taken him to your mother, Pekitaulet. Despite the cautiousness, your people welcomed him. Nevertheless, all of you were a bit on edge, he could not have been alone, could he? So you waited for the rest of his people to arrive. Waited and waited, until one day, another boat docked.

The first few days, your tribe was careful. They left the newcomers alone, just to see what they would do. They were less than you, after all. You could defend yourselves if something were to happen. Your mother, knowing how curious you were, forbade you to go near them. She did not want you to make the same rash decision you did with Floki, the mad man. It certainly took all of you not to approach them, but you managed. However, you could not help looking at them from afar. Just like Floki, they were fascinating. They wore so different clothing and acted even more so. You wanted to learn more about them. Still, that interest in their culture was nothing compared to what made you feel specifically one of them. You saw him in your first illicit exploration, he carried himself as the leader. Tall, with broad shoulders, light hair, and eyes a color you have only seen on Floki. Yet, they were a different shade, much brighter. Blue eyes. Your mother had told you before that blue eyes meant danger. But what a beautiful danger he was. You were so utterly entranced by him that he almost caught you once. You swear that he saw you; your eyes connecting with his. But then he left. Maybe he did not see you after all.

It was a few days later when they found your camp. They were following the traces your people placed for them, and they bought it. You still remember the wary look in their eyes when they saw your people. You still remember the look in Ubbe’s (you learned his name then) eyes when he saw you. He was smitten. You knew then that he had indeed seen you before. You wanted to question why he did not say anything, but you could barely understand him. That would be something for you to ask once you could communicate more.

To be honest, that first meeting was a little tense, both groups expecting attacks. It was until the little girl pulled the old man's facial hair that everyone laughed and ate. You could barely take your eyes off Ubbe. Not that he was doing a better job at concealing his interest in you. After they left, your mother chastised you. She wanted you to be friendly with them, but to be careful.

The second meeting went smoother. Their people invited you back to their camp and showed you around. You sat with your sister-in-law, Nikani, and a woman named Torvi, while you braided your hair. Torvi appraised you once you finished, though the result was a poor attempt to duplicate her hairstyle. On the other side of the camp, you saw your brothers Peminuit and We'jitu have an aim contest with Ubbe and the other men. Shortly after that, Ubbe sat with you by the fire. He wanted to tell you something, but just like you, he did not know how to express himself without words. Yet, he was stubborn. He looked you in the eyes and murmured, “du er vakker.” You smiled, although you had no idea what he meant. However, it was like no words were necessary to express each other’s feelings because, after that, he rarely parted from you. That evening, you took his people to Floki’s house.

Slowly, you learned the way of his people and he learned yours. You would dry fur for him to wear and sew beads for necklaces. He accepted all of your gifts happily and returned some. He gave you meat he hunted and a beautiful fluffy fur he brought along with him. Languages were exchanged, and you began to understand better what he said. One of those times, when Torvi was teaching you a few words, you asked what ‘vakker’ meant. Knowingly, she responded that it was ‘beautiful’. You blushed, remembering all the times Ubbe had called you that. Even so, the relationships between tribes were still fragile when one of them killed your brother We'jitu. Your family was devastated. For a moment, you thought everything accomplished would be lost. That you would have to forget about Ubbe and whatever blossoming relationship you had. Luckily, Pekitaulet was wise and wanted no war. She granted the foreigners a chance to redeem the loss. But even when they killed the murderer, everything remained tense. During the punishment and funeral, you were not able to look at Ubbe in the eyes. You were too lost in grief. And even after that, it took a while for things to settle down, for you to spend time with him again. Once you did, though, you realized him coming here was destined.

“Are you still up here?” a voice calls you softly from behind. You glance back, your husband is making his way towards you. His blue eyes shine bright in the sun. He smiles charmingly. “I thought Pekitaulet told you to be careful and not to climb the cliff for a while.”

Your guilty laugh echoes through the abyss, “I’m feeling much better now, don’t worry. Why don’t you sit beside me for a bit?” Ubbe hums but does as requested. Once settled, he takes you in his arms in a gentle embrace, placing you between his thighs.

It took more than you would have liked to learn the Norse tongue. In fact, Ubbe learned faster your language. Nevertheless, that was no barrier for your love to thrive. Steadily, the two of you became closer. You would often exchange lingering gazes, smiles, and soft touches. Everyone could see the love blossoming between the Viking and you. Soon, he asked your mother for your hand in marriage. Despite past events with his people that lead to the death of We'jitu, Pekitaulet recognized that Ubbe was a good man. She blessed the union and you became one heart.

“So,” Ubbe murmurs into your hair. He places a sweet kiss in your temple and continues, “are you going to tell me what are you doing up here?”

A few days ago, you started to feel lightheaded while in the woods. You took a nasty fall because of it, managing to injure your ankle. The healer warned you about going out until it was healed. She was about to leave when your mother requested to know the cause of your dizziness. It was no surprise what the healer responded. In fact, it was more than welcomed news. You have not told Ubbe yet. As far as he is concerned, your ankle has not healed yet.

“I just wanted to see the sundown, it is a beautiful time of the day, is it not?” You respond, gazing lovingly into your husband’s eyes.

He stares back and smiles at you. “You are beautiful.” You blush, making his smirk grow wider. He inclines and captures your lips in a small kiss. “Tell me what is it, wife of mine,” he says once he parts from you, “I know you now well enough to notice that there is something you are keeping from me. And it is not the beauty of the sundown.”

You exhale, well, it seems like you won’t be able to keep it a secret much longer. The only ones that know so far are your mother, Nikani, and Torvi (whom you befriended). You place your hand on his, softly tailing his wrist tattoos. “First, I would like to ask you something that I never had the chance to do before.” He regards you curiously, but nods. “The first time that you saw me, it was not in my camp, was it?”

Ubbe looks away sheepishly. “No. I saw you first in the woods.” He seems embarrassed, “I know you saw me too, we locked gazes.”

“Then why you say nothing to your people?” You ask.

A faint blush colors Ubbe’s cheekbones as he responds, “We had just landed, we were thirsty, and there you were, in the middle of greenery nature, all gorgeous, like a true goddess.” He peers back at you, and confidently admits, “I thought I was seeing things, losing my mind.” The hand that is not encased by yours lifts and caresses your jaw. “When I saw you again at the camp and I realized you were real…” He leaves the sentence incomplete, but you know what he means. You know too well, after all, you felt it the first time you saw him.

His utter honesty must be compensated. He needs to know the secret. “My love,” his eyes shine at the nickname, “you are right, there is something you should know.” You bring his hand slowly to your lower belly and place it there with a light squeeze. The breeze plays with your hair. You smile shyly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Ubbe inhales sharply. There is no need for words to be said, he knows what you mean, just like he always knew what you wanted to say even when you could not speak his language nor his yours. And yet, you want to say it because it is the best news ever. “Jeg er gravid.” And you know, by the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, that it is indeed the best news. He places both hands in your face to bring you closer. This time, the kiss is full of hope, love, and happiness. You can swear, to his gods or yours, that this moment, right here, was destined.

#fanfiction #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe lothbrok #vikings #vikings fic #ubbe x reader #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings x reader #ubbe fluff #vikings ubbe #ubbe lothbrok x you #vikings x you #ragnarsson

[undiscovered-horizon]

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him. 

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter. 

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?” he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words. 

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

���Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth. 

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt. 

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

#vikings #vikings tv series #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk fanfic #vikings x you

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Being Married To Bjorn Would Include...

-Him knowing he loved you the first time he had ever seen you. He was so in love with you he knew that he would do anything and everything for you and wanted to marry you too.

-He loves to give you gifts and give you lots of love and affection. He thinks that you deserve it all. He also loves to see your happy self once he gives you all these things.

-He loves to travel with you always. He is always worried about you traveling though. He hates the idea of you getting hurt because of some type of violence while out. That is why he keeps you very close to him while you both are traveling.

-He loves to keep you close at all times possible. Like I said before he would hate for you to get any type of hurt. He would take it very personally and think that it was his fault for not keeping you close.

-He is always so protective over you it sometimes makes you a bit crazy. But in his defense, he cannot help it.

-He sometimes will follow you around the village and make sure you do not know about it because he knows you will get mad if he follows you a lot.

-Being married to him would have some perks. Some including that you have lots of respect from not just him but from the rest of the village as well.

-He is a very jealous man, so if he sees any man with you he has to automatically include himself in the situation because he does not trust any other man in the village.

-He would want to get a tattoo signifying your marriage. He would also like it if you got one too. Most likely matching to his tattoo.

#norway #scandanavia #viking #vikings #imagines #nordic #vikings headcanon #vikings imagines #vikings fandom #norse #old norse #vikings x you #vikings imagine #vikings smut #vikings x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings tv #vikings fic #bjorn smut #bjorn #bjorn ironside #bjorn lothbrok #norwegian #norsk #scandanavian #viking imagine #imagine

[lavender-romancer]

Bruised

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Ivar loves war more than you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x y/n #ivar ragnasson x reader #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings #ivar au #ivar #Ivar Ragnarsson #Ivar ragnarsson angst #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings x reader #vikings x you #ivar angst #ivar ragnarsson angst #ivar ragnarsson smut #vikings smut #vikings series #king ivar #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson imagine #love #vikings imagine #vikings angst #ivar vikings

[honestsycrets]

The Brat | [Ivar the Boneless x Reader]

❛ pairing | king Ivar x wife!Reader

❛ genre | drabbly bits

❛ summary | he loves the blood, you hate the blood. but you do so love him. maybe he can persuade you.

❛  warnings | mentions of violence, sexual themes, fulfilled request, king!ivar.

Ivar reeks.

And he loves it. Whether fresh from the battlefield or dealing with insurrections at home, he loves the scent of iron. It embodies his accomplishments, a cruel overcoming of the sort of men who would have mocked him if not for his noble father. They all cried Ragnar when they encountered there could be so-- so much worse. 

He was worse. 

And so, blood-soaked, battle-worn, and revved up-- he looked for his honeysuckle. His sweet honeysuckle who just so happened to detest the scent of blood tacked against his skin. As he pushed apart the flaps of the tent, he spotted your face furrowing. Ah, yes, another fight to be won. 

“Ivar,” you hissed. “Why bother washing in the stream if you are only going to wipe the blood off your eyes?” 

He cackled and brought his bloodied war hammer to scratch the side of his head. Then, moving forward, he dropped his weight on his crutch with every step. “So I can see. The blood blurs my sight, my sweet. And I am but a lowly--” 

“It also reeks.” 

“An unfortunate consequence.” 

You folded your arms. A jingle of foreign bracelets met his ear. It was adorable the way you stood there donned in gold, silks, and furs and made a mockery of the exact thing that enabled him to dress you so richly. Such a brat.

He collapsed on his favorite chair to remove his calibers. You’d surely waste the next day scrubbing out of pure aggravation for his defiance. “Ivar the Boneless,” you threatened. Closer now. His fingers thumped against the blood spattered metal. 

“My name sounds beautiful from your lips.” 

“Have you not had enough fighting for one day? Not enough bodies sent to the gods?” 

“Mm,” he sucked on his teeth. “Never.” 

“Go bathe,” you implored. “I’ll fetch the water myself. You’re making a mess.” 

He drew his tongue along his upper teeth. He knew you hated it when he dragged the rank of the battlefield home. It wore on his skin in a delicious scent of sweat, blood, and fear. Or shit, whatever. His hand came upon his thigh, ringing a loud sound throughout the tent. “Nevermind that. Come sit down.” 

You moved with your hands affixed to your hips. Oh, he knew this game. Your long, flowing gown tickled his dusty boots with the lightest of teases. Yet your face peered into the distance. A tease… as if this repulsive man had no chance to have a delicate princess on his lap. 

“Come here, I said.” His fingers grazed the ties of your dress. He turned his ties in circles around his fingers.

“You’re wet!” Bloody.

“What of it? You act as if these clothes will stay on long.” Moist, bloody, nasty. All the things that he knew you hated to love and loved to hate. Although you bitched now, he knew it would eventually turn with the soft caress of his cheek, caressing the stubble that you so loved. His eyes searched the soft curve of your waist, smoothing up, then down again. You flushed in embarrassment. “Undress.”

“Taking off clothes solves nothing. If I want to love you,” you whispered. His smile gathered wider and wider. “I’ll be loving every other warrior that you’ve slaughtered today.” 

“Don’t excite me.” 

The man was impossible-- his affections, his interactions, unbearable in his very nature. Yet, you loved him for it. The slightest chuckle slipped form his tongue, hissing delightfully as you slid over his thighs while drawing your skirts over your knees. Oh, he already knew he won his fight-- yet again.  

His hands slipped underneath the tumbling fabric and shifted it over his firm arms. Through his thick fabric, you felt his bulge against your trimmed curls. His thumb prodded your lips, smearing dried blood across your nub as he rubbed you with soft, patient thumbs. The care, tinted by his usual feral nature, made you slick. In place of fear, comfort. “See? And you wanted me to go.” 

“Why are you like this? You are so arrogant.”

“And you’re beautifully spoiled.” Ivar settled a kiss upon the pendant beating at your chest. “Is this blood not what provides for this? Or secures your safety?” 

It was. But perhaps that wasn’t something you readily addressed. Rather, your lips pursed in response to his words as your hands curled on his armoured shoulders. He found himself laughing again, and again, and perhaps it was that laughter of your princessly charms that drove Ivar’s excitement. 

“Shhh.” 

He slid away from your sweet spot. As if on cue, you lurched against him, trained as you were. Perhaps you talked a great deal, but when it came to it, you longed for his touch all day. Ivar leaned back in his chair to enjoy the fruits of his efforts.

After a long day, there was nothing so right as the warmth of a beautiful wife to come back to. Your complaints, slight as they were, faded into meer murmurs of submission. At last, he hushed: because per usual-- Ivar always won.

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings x you #vikings x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[gulnarsultan]

more of yandere ragnar and his children

~ There are many options for meeting Ragnar.

Some of these options are:

Whatever the case, the moment Ragnar asks for you, you will be his. She will give you babies soon after she marries you. He needs heirs and he wants to prevent you from escaping. It's a strict rule to stay home when Ragnar goes on raids. You will take care of the house and children and wait for Ragnar to return. You stopped fighting after Ragnar kidnapped you and became pregnant with your first baby. You love all of your children so much. It's not their fault that their father is Ragnar. You do your best to give your children a good life. Ragnar always has a proud and arrogant grin on his face when you're pregnant. It will offer you the best of the loot. There will be virgin shields protecting you. Ragnar is obsessed with frying you by embarrassing you. No man is allowed to get too close and touch you. Anyone who hurts or upsets you will die at Ragnar's hands. He likes to spend time hugging each other. He gives you lots of hugs and kisses. He buys you a lot of jewellery, clothes and fabrics. He will always remind you that you are his precious Queen. He will train with your kids. He will teach them to defend themselves. Before going for the raid, he kisses your forehead and says he loves you without averting his eyes. Your children will likely inherit their father's tendencies. They will work as a team with their father.

#vikings x you #yandere vikings x reader #yandere vikings #vikings x reader #yandere ragnar lothbrok #yandere ragnar lothbrok x reader #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok x reader

[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson

Enemies to lovers, forced-marriage and based on the Disney movie The Swan princess. Here is what is probably the work I’m proudest of. Things you need to know before reading:

- As a medieval fic, there will be typical misoginist behaviours, racisims at some points and stereotypes. 

- In this fic, Ubbe is from Mercia, not a viking, but a prince. His whole family is ruling that country, while yours rules over Wessex.

- Ivan doesn’t exist. I had to erase a brother for the plot I’M SORRY.

- It hasn’t been proof-read. So, if you find any mistake, please let me know!

Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.

As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.

Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.

But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.

You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.

Preface:  Ubbe and you meet for the first time, foreshadowing what your relationship is going to be like.

1st part:  Just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.

2nd part:  your sixteenth-first encounter goes as good as planned.

3rd part:  Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.

4rd part:  The soldiers’ attitude forces your father to make a decision, and you finally see an end to your engagement. Only that, when presented with the chance, you’re not so sure.

5th part:  No longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.

6th part:  The morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.

7th part:  Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.

8th part:  tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe x reader #ubbe one shot #ubbe vikings #ubbe fic #vikings fic #vikings #vikings one shot #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings x you #ubbe x you #hvitserk #aslaug #ragnar #king ecbert #king ubbe #imaginesmai #imaginesmaimasterlist #imagines mai #x reader #imagine #one shot #fic #multi chapter fic #multi chapter #disney au

[milkb0nny]

Hii 👋🏼 Can you do an Ivar x floki daughter? They were raised together and she was his only friend when he was younger because she wasn't scared and he'll always protect her.

Older she become a healer of the village, and one day floki want her to marry ubble/hwitserk and Ivar become very very jaloux..👀

You can make fluff/smut/ angst as you want!

thank u 🤍☺️

Sorry for my English it’s not my first language

Jealous Games

Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Summary: One day, your father enters your room, unveiling that your parents want you to marry Ubbe. Though, the past years you grew feeling for another man: Ivar. You never told anyone about your true feelings for the man but now that Ubbe is supposed to be your husband, you feel utterly broken down. Refusing the offer, you leave the scene, only to discover a life changing secret...

Note: Thank you SO much for this request. It was a lot of fun writing it. I enjoyed writing this particular request more than I should've. 🤍 I hope you'll like it!

Warnings: slight angst (nothing graphic), forced possible marriage, mentions of anger issues, detailed kissing scene

Genres: slight angst, fluff

word count: 2.445

Ivar's childhood was shrouded in a tapestry of dark grays and blacks, a period marked by relentless bullying, discrimination, and a stark absence of love. love. Amid this harsh environment, Aslaug, his devoted mother, stood as one of the few adults who genuinely embraced him. Yet, even her unwavering love couldn't quell the relentless growth of his simmering anger. But, within these somber times, there existed a glimmer of hope - a hope that emerged when you entered his life.

Ivar adored Floki, viewing him as his own father and protector. Whenever the cruelty of both children and adults bore down upon him, Floki served as a steadfast anchor, and so did you. Your friendship started with a shy hesitation.

Helga and Floki, your parents, had taught you to always accept others, no matter how they looked like. You watched your father engage with Ivar, teaching him the art of weaponry and regaling him with Nordic sagas. You had shared them whenever you wanted company and as a result, the two of you became friends.

As the years passed, your bond with Ivar deepened. He shielded you from any unwelcome advances, such as nasty men, while you provided solace during his most challenging moments. Together, you embarked on hunting expeditions, sharing meals at Ivar's dwelling with his family.

Fortunately, his mother held you in high regard. She possessed a strict demeanor when it came to the women who orbited around her beloved sons, yet she understood your unshakable bond with Ivar. With open arms, she welcomed you whenever you graced her home with your cherished friend.

Of course you faced discriminating comments and remarks from time to time because of Ivar, though you stayed by Ivar’s side. You were the only woman who glimpsed Ivar's vulnerabilities, the only girl who had witnessed his anguished tears and experienced the gentleness that lay beneath his hard exterior during your shared childhood.

You knew him, cherished him, and secretly, perhaps even loved him. Yet, you concealed your affections, carrying them within your heart, as your father saw you both as siblings. Sure, you grew up together and were basically one person, but you could also love him, right?

You kept your adoration hidden and you honestly were fine with it because you remained close to Ivar but you always faced struggles when a woman tried to seduce him. You were a strong and loving woman, supporting a man whom few understood or respected.

In recent years, you had devoted your time to the study of science and honed your skills as a healer. Your knowledge extended to various herbs and methods to mend any kind of injury. Ivar sought your counsel frequently, valuing the conversations you shared.

The atmosphere between you was one of relaxation, love, and kindness, something that Ivar rarely encountered in his tumultuous life. He harbored deep emotions for you, but fear held him back. Rejection had been his constant companion throughout life, even from his own father, Ragnar Lothbrok. This fear of rejection crippled him, making him hesitant to express his emotions to you.

One day, your father entered your room with an unusual expression. You initially assumed he was about to share one of Floki's eccentric ideas, as was his habit. Therefore a bright smile creeped over your lovely face, greeting your father. However, what he proposed was far from comforting; it shattered your heart in a matter of seconds.

“I've been thinking about arranging a marriage between you and Ubbe,” he said, his words falling like lead..

You raised your eyebrows, believing that he joked at first but his serious expression remained - he meant it.

“Uh, father. I don’t know if I-,” you began, only to be interrupted by his eager explanation.

“I thought you’d remain close to Ivar and find a man who truly treats you right. I know Ubbe is a good man who will respect you,” he continued.

You pondered his words briefly, acknowledging that Ubbe was a compassionate and respectful man who held women in high regard. During your childhood, you had formed a fondness for him, but it was far from romantic.

No, you truly despised the idea.

“Father, I don't wish to marry," you protested vehemently, rejecting Floki's wishes, which he met with displeasure. You couldn't fathom joining hands with a man you didn't love, especially if it were your true love's brother. The thought left you with an overwhelming sense of unease.

“Child, you've reached a point in your life where you need a man to protect you. You're all on your own, and we're concerned," he voiced his genuine worries. While you understood his concerns, this request felt like an intrusion on your own autonomy, a call you couldn't embrace. You preferred making your parents proud and being a memorable member of Kattegat, but this wasn’t your true faith.

You were bound to none other than Ivar the Boneless, a man whose depths you knew better than your own skills as a healer. As you sat there, Floki's hand swept across his weary face, his gaze avoiding yours as he delivered the unimaginable truth.

“Ubbe has asked for your hand in marriage, and we've already agreed with Aslaug. The decision has been made, my dear," he disclosed, a heavy burden of heartache settling upon you. Tears welled in your eyes, and your cheeks flushed with the ache of this revelation.

“No, Father,” you protested, your voice quivering from the shock of their decision, made without your consent.

“We only want you to be happy," Floki tried to bridge the emotional chasm, but his words fell on deaf ears. You were consumed by fury, your emotions tearing at you, digging a chasm within your heart.

“I’m not!” You cried out, finally allowing your pent-up emotions to pour forth. "I'm not happy, Father. You have a woman you love, and Mother loves you too. Why can't I?” You shouted while tears ran down your soft skin, falling onto the ground. You sobbed uncontrollably.

“No, don’t think that,” Floki tried to console you, his heart aching as he witnessed your distress. After all, you were his beloved daughter, a sweet and loving child he cherished. Right now, you feared the fatherly connection was breaking apart.

“I’m not marrying Ubbe! I’d rather die,” you declared, your voice barely a whisper but loud enough for your father to comprehend. With those words hanging heavily in the air, you rose and fled the room, leaving your father behind. As you left the building you came across Ubbe, who of course knew about the idea before you did, though you rage signalized that you weren’t enlightened.

Floki followed closely, calling your name, but your steps quickened with each utterance. Ultimately, you ran away, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of the Kattegat forest, a place you knew intimately. You spent a lot of time in the forests and fields to collect herbs and plants, sometimes even staying overnight in summer. With your father, mother, Ubbe, and the impending marriage fading into the background, you retreated into the solitude of the woods. Little did you know your secret significant other just found out about the marriage through Sigurd.

“You’re telling me, y/n is going to marry my brother?” The crackling fire of the fireplace represented Ivar’s slight rage as he received the information.

Sigurd understood that you were Ivar's soft spot, and while he relished the opportunity to tease his brother, he also conveyed the truth. Aslaug had kept this secret from Ivar, knowing precisely what she was doing.

“Yes. Ubbe is the eldest among us brothers, so it only makes sense for him to claim one of the town's most important women, Ivar,” Sigurd explained while deftly carving a sculpture from wood.

Ivar despised the idea entirely, his lips chewed raw as he gazed out the window. It was not Ubbe's right to simply take any woman, especially not you. He believed Ubbe was not meant for your delicate being, no matter how loving, respectful, and kind he might be. At least in the eyes of the Ragnarsson, Ubbe would never be worthy.

As the evening progressed, Ubbe and Floki entered the brothers' home. Ivar remained silent, seething with anger and disappointment. However, he was not Ubbe's primary concern.

“Ubbe, she ran way. I cannot force her,” Floki implored Ubbe to reconsider.

“Floki, it’s not your fault. I love her though, and you know it. I’d treat her with everything she desires and I’ll love the children she will bear,” Ubbe explained, greeting Sigurd and Ivar with a small nod.

“You don't love her if you'll force her to marry you," Ivar's words were cold and stern, his anger barely contained.

“Excuse me?” Ubbe was taken aback by the accusation.

Finally, Ivar’s jealousy piqued and he looked up to his brother, “You heard me. She doesn’t love you. She never will!” His words struck like a shock.

Sigurd, joining the conversation, couldn't resist a taunt, “Oh, are your little feelings hurt because she won’t hop in bed with you? Poor Ivar.”

Oh, how much Ivar hated these people, these cruel brothers who always take his hope away. They rob him of his freedom, his excitement and love. They always seemed to achieve everything, while Ivar was left with nothing but solitude and heartache. As the tension simmered within the dimly lit room, Ivar's words hung heavy in the air, causing a palpable rift between the brothers.

“Ivar, you have no right to dictate her heart. She's a woman with her own choices," Ubbe retorted, his voice carrying an air of defiance.

Ivar scoffed as a response to this unsolicited statement. It wasn’t Ivar who was trying to force himself upon you, it was Ubbe. All his life Ivar did nothing to pressure you or force you to do something. You had been safe around him, no burdens dragging you down when you had spent time together.

Sigurd, needing to provoke Ivar further, leaned in with a sly smile, "Is that so, Ivar? Or are you just afraid she might choose someone else over you?"

The youngest among them decided to not react to the jokes Sigurd made as he intentionally tried to fuel Ivar’s anger. While Ivar was torn between his immense longing for you and the realization that he might never be able to offer you the love and protection you deserved, Ivar couldn't help but feel that marrying Ubbe was wrong. The young Ragnarsson decided to leave the situation, searching for you.

They didn’t, but Ivar did.

Meanwhile, you had found safety in the forest, away from the prying eyes and expectations of your family and the town of Kattegat. There, you wandered aimlessly. As you reached a small, shallow river, you placed yourself on a rock. The silence and peace gave you enough room to reflect on the horrible decision of your parents.

You couldn’t deny your love for Ivar anymore. Whenever you thought about becoming Ubbe’s wife, Ivar’s face popped up on your mind. He was the fragile yet strong man you truly desired with your whole heart.

Tears still covered your face, seeking their way down into the cold water of the river.

It was in this melancholic moment that you spotted a familiar face among the shadows. Ivar’s presence unveiled itself on the other side of the river. His intense blue eyes, filled with a mixture of longing and despair, locked onto yours.

“Y/n,” he called your name out, his voice heavy with emotion.

You blinked a few times and a broken, yet warm smile rushed over your lips. You stood up, jumping over the small width of the river, getting closer to Ivar.

“Ivar…,” you whispered, seating you down next to him.

Even though you appreciated his company, your heart couldn’t bear to look into his loyal eyes. Alone the fact others think you and Ubbe would be a suitable couple made you feel dirty.

Ivar’s eyes remained locked on you, his voice filling the silence between you, “You… you don’t want to marry my brother, right?”

You frantically shook your head as an answer.

Ivar came a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I can't stand the thought of you being with him," he confessed, his vulnerability laid bare. Jealousy or not, his emotions were genuine and Ivar thrived for your love. Yet, he never told you.

“Ivar,” you whispered, contemplating whether you should reveal your intimate feelings. “Ubbe isn’t the man I want to call husband. Of course he’s intelligent and a wonderful fighter, though…”

Ivar’s soothing voice interjected, “I want you to stay by my side.”

Finally, a massive amount of weight released the both of you, and you widened your eyes in surprise. His confession lightened a fire inside you that you had guessed was already banished. A smile lingered on your lips while you replayed his words again and again in your mind. He asked you to remain his, not to become Ubbe’s woman or anyone else’s.

His eyes expressed his fear of rejection, since you two had shared a unique relationship he couldn’t put together. Your beautiful smile warmed his mind though, letting his hope grow little by little.

Your heart quickened in response to the significant magnetic pull between you. Softly, you said the words you had longed to say the past years.

“Ivar, I love you.”

Without a further word, Ivar reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was both tender and possessive, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your face. He never held you like this - a whole new level of trust and intimacy unveiled itself. His passion and your admiration mixed together.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. You didn’t know how a kiss normally feels like, but you knew his kiss was the right thing. His lips were warm and inviting, and his breath mingled with yours, creating an intimate connection that defied the existence of everything but your shared love for one another.

It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises - the weight of unexpressed emotions that were kept hidden for many years. It was a kiss that spoke of a love that had always been there, just waiting to be acknowledged, waiting to bloom, waiting to emerge.

When he gently pulled away, your hearts were racing, and a breathless silence hung between you.

Ivar's eyes stared into yours, filled with a raw intensity that left no room for doubt. He loved you too.

“No one will take your hand, except for me, Ástvinur.”

#vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #i'm crying #ivar the boneless #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Four

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

Word count: 2146

Warnings: drinking, Sigurd making a cripple joke, drunk reader

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 Part three

Masterlist Here

Something your arrival seemed to have distracted from was the success of the latest raid. “You’ll love it,” Hvitserk told you over breakfast. He, you had soon noticed, was the only morning person of the bunch. Ivar looked even more homicidal while Sigurd was still too asleep to piss him off. Meanwhile Ubbe was still in bed, threatening to cut off whoever’s hand tried to wake him, “We pull out all the stops. Wines, mead, ale, -“

“Is anything not alcohol related?” you joked just as Bjorn walked in. You’d honestly expected him to have breakfast with his father, but Bjorn said nothing as he took a seat beside you. You knew he was tall but him sitting shoulder to shoulder with you made you realise just how not only tall, but wide he was. The man was built like a bear.

“Hello?” Hvitserk said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, “I swear none of you appreciate the morning,” he tutted.

“Die,” Ivar grunted, earning an agreement from Sigurd. You chuckled a little at seeing them finally on the same side.

Still, you shot Hvitserk an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hvitserk I just spaced out,”

“Spaced out?” He asked, even Bjorn looking down in confusion.

“Like got distracted?”

Hvitserk nodded in understanding, but Bjorn wasn’t satisfied, his head tilting even further in confusion. “Why do you say ‘like’ all the time? You always say like at the start of everything its strange,”

“I guess it’s like,” you said, pausing to chuckle at the accident though he didn’t laugh, “I don’t know it’s just how we talk where I’m from. Like how in every conversation someone threatens someone’s life here,” you said, finally earning a crack of a smile from him, “Where I’m from that would be the weird thing,”

“It’s not as if we mean it,” Hvitserk said.

“It’s brotherly love,” You turned to look at Ivar and Sigurd who both just kind of shrugs.

“It’s something all right,” Sigurd muttered. Ivar’s glare said enough on his behalf.

You ignored them both and turned back to Hvitserk with a laugh. After all they were brothers after all. It was all just talk. Surely. “So, if I go wake Ubbe up right now he won’t actually cut off my hand?” This time they all shared a concerned look. Okay maybe not.

“Take back up with you,” Ivar said. “Just encase,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at the dramatics of all of them “Seriously? Right come on then,” you said, nodding your head at Ivar as you stood.

For a moment you actually saw a slight look of fear wash over his face, “But I’m still eating,” he tried to weasel his way out of it making Sigurd laugh. That was until you turned to him, hands on hip and his eyes suddenly dipped to the floor and the laughing stopped.

You threw your hands up, “He cannot be that bad!” you protested as you headed to Ubbe’s room.

As you headed for the door you heard someone’s chair scrape against the floor following you. You knocked on the door before quickly pushing it open, “Rise and shine sunshine- “

A loud groan came from the lump under the furs that was presumably the grumpy Ubbe everyone had warned you about. He quickly went to sit up and you jumped back when you saw the axe in his hand. Right back into what you soon realised was Bjorn’s chest.

Realization dawned over Ubbe’s face when he saw you, “Oh,” he said, dropping the axe onto the furs, “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you,” he mumbled, collapsing back into bed.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled, stepping away from Bjorn and hoping he didn’t see the blush covering your cheeks from the previous closeness. Then they went even redder when Ubbe sat up in bed and you realised he had nothing on. “I’m just gonna,” you span around, trying to leave, before almost smacking right back into Bjorn’s chest. You almost gulped before looking up at him, “Sorry,” you mumbled, rushing out past him, not noticing the smirk on Bjorn’s face or the way Ubbe laughed at your antics.

-

Ivar had finished eating by the time you’d returned, and you very quickly insisted on him showing you the market like he’d promised last night. He almost jumped at the chance and debated flinging his knife into Sigurd’s chest when he insisted on joining you both. However, you weren’t out for long before Aslaug sent a thrall to fetch you.

Aslaug had arranged for you to receive another dress for tonight’s festivities since “our guests represent our honour,” and you weren’t going to turn down the clean clothes.

The boys had gone out to do some training leaving you to get ready. You debated doing some makeup, you did have a couple items in your bag after all. “What is that?” Aslaug asked as she and a woman you recognised as Helga walked into the room. You’d been sat at a table in the middle of the house to utilise the little light inside and hadn’t heard them walk in, “Its eyeliner,” you said, showing them the black on your eyes, “Like how you use charcoal on yours,”

“Can I watch?” Helga asked, excitement written on her face as she sat across from you, “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the liquid blush, “It’s so bright!”

“It’s blush,” you laughed, “It’s for your cheeks,”

Aslaug sat next to her, eyeing over the cosmetics, “Like berries?”

“Kind of?” you said, gently taking it out of Helga’s hand so you could put it on to show them,

“See?” you asked patting it in, “Same sort of thing but this lasts a bit longer,”

“Can we try some?” Helga asked and even Aslaug looked interested at the idea. For the next while you helped them apply some moisturiser and blush to ease them into it. you were honestly scared to show them your eyeshadow pallet considering how Helga reacted to a pink blush.

then it was your turn. Apparently, the hair problem was long overdue. Helga was gentle when she brushed but you winced as Aslaug took over the intricate braids. “Do all girls fuss where you’re from?”

By the time she was done however you had to admit it looked beautiful. “You almost look like one of us,” there was almost fondness in Aslaug smile.

Helga looked up with a large grin, “You’ll get used to the pain. You looked wonderful though,”

-

Walking into the bustling hall by Aslaug’s side was both comforting and terrifying. On one hand it meant no one would question you but on the other, everyone was staring. When the boys finally returned Hvitserk was the first to greet you and you happily accepted the ale he offered.

You were sat at a table with the five of them, Hvitserk and Ivar on either side of you, and Bjorn, Ubbe, and Sigurd across from you. However, something the group were quickly realising was their tolerance to ale was far higher than yours. “Do you not drink where you’re from?” Ubbe teased as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“We do! I swear I’m not a lightweight. This stuffs just strong!” you laughed.

Apparently, the laugh was infectious as soon they were all giggly. All but Bjorn but for once there was a permanent smile on his face, “What’s a lightweight?” Bjorn asked.

“Someone who can’t hold their alcohol,” you told him, very matter of factly making them all laugh at your drunken confidence, “You lot wouldn’t last one second on a night out at my campus. I’m talking tequila shots, body shots, Jello shots,” you began to drunkenly list off as the boys tilted their heads in amused confusion.

“What’s a shot?” Hvitserk asked making you face palm.

“Oh, I have so much to teach you,”

-

Unfortunately, while the boys were great company and had adjusted well to you being in their groups your presence seemed to disrupt everyone else. It was Hvitserk who first noticed everyone staring at you, but you were too tipsy too care. However, as Ivar and Ubbe drank more both began to glare at the men whose eyes stayed too long.

Despite all the boys warning you about Ivar’s temper they all seemed to ignore Ubbe’s even when he insisted on you all leaving because a drunken Viking tried to hit on you. You however were happy enough to follow them all the edge of the lake and sit on the cold sand with a flask of ale being passed around.

As you were all walking down to the lake Hvitserk, and Sigurd were in a heated debate over which slave girl was hotter while Ubbe carried a giggling Ivar on his back. somehow, you’d ended up at the back of the pack, stumbling down the hill beside Bjorn.

“Woah,” he gasped, grabbing your waist before you could stumble and fall over a tree branch. “Steady,”

“Careful Bjorn,” you grinned up at him, holding onto the arm he offered you so you wouldn’t risk falling again, “Someone might think we’re friends,” you teased.

A smirk quickly showed on his face, a teasing light in his eyes, “Oh? Are we not friends already? I am wounded,”

“Friends don’t try kill their friends,” you pouted but you weren’t able to keep the charade up for long before grinning again like a Cheshire cat.

Bjorn just rolled his eyes with a smile however, “We weren’t friends then. We are now,”

“So, you won’t try kill me again?”

Another eye roll, “I won’t try kill you, no,” he said, shaking his head as he helped you to where the rest of the group had begun to sit.

“Pinky promise?” you asked, pulling out of his grip and extending his arm.

His eyes narrowed, head tilting, “What’s a pinkie promise?”

“Its where,” you said, stepping closer to grab his hand, “You lock pinkies,” you said wrapping yours around his, not noticing the smile on his face, “And promise something. And if you break it, I get to break your pinkie,”

“So, an oath?”

“An oath with a threat,”

“Of breaking a finger?”

“Pinkie specifically but yes,” you grinned, “So do you promise?”

“I promise,”

“Good,” you grinned, pulling your pinkie away from his grip before turning to join the group. You plopped down on the ground next to Ivar who was staring off into the sea, “Hi,” you grinned.

Ivar turned to you, laughing when he saw the wide grin on your cheeks, “Hello,” you could hear a slight drunken slur in his words. “Want some?” he asked, passing you, his ale.

You gladly accepted it, taking a drink of the alcohol you first hated but soon grew to love, “Thanks. You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled before taking a drink, missing the way Ivar’s cheeks went red at your sweet words. Sigurd however didn’t want you to miss it.

“Aww look at the cripple,” he teased making Ivar scowl, “He’s blushing like a baby,”

You passed Ivar his drink back, noticing how tense his jaw was and quickly checking to see how close he was to his axe. After all you didn’t need to be here when the fall out happened, “Why do you care so much Sigurd?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone’s eyes seemingly went wide, shocked that your bubbly attitude had so quickly dropped. “you don’t get it,” he tried to brush off, “you’re not from here,”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, sitting up straight, “Explain what’s so funny about Ivar’s legs. Ill wait,”

“Well its just,” he tried to stutter earning a snigger from Hvitserk, “I don’t know it just is. Why do you care?”

You were honestly a bit hurt by that, “because he’s, my friend?” you said it like a question because the answer seemed so obvious.

“Okay well I’m sorry,” Sigurd shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground.

Luckily the night quickly moved on from the brief ugly confrontation however Ivar couldn’t get the reaction out of his mind. He was so used to fighting his own battles that he never even expected someone else to back him up, let alone speak up before him. Despite his bruised ego Sigurd thankfully stayed civil for the rest of the night.

A few hours passed before you all decided to walk home. You were in a world of your own at this point, your eyes fixed on how bright the night sky was with stars with no city skyline or factory gases to ruin your view. You didn’t even notice the stares from the boys or hear Hvitserk and Ubbe talk about how you stood up to Sigurd. For the first time this week you didn’t have a care in the world.

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[knight-of-flowerss]

she-bear : chapter one

navigation | warnings : inspector calls reference, nameday instead of birthday | a/n : hiii so I know this isn't really good but I'm very ill and can't think straight but I wanted to atleast get one chapter done! | wattpad | tags : @thethreeeyed-raven , @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @thelirofnorthlands , @naaladareia , @not-that-syndrigast

Even when I was a child all I ever saw was war, death and sorrow but even through all the sadness, there was a sort of beauty.

My grandmother always told me that if I couldn't find a beauty in something depressing then there was no point in living in this dog eat dog world.

My father always hated that I thought like that. I don't blame him though, he was jealous. He was jealous he couldn't have that childlike optimism as he faced death and savagery almost every day as he is a well known Lord and General. I'm glad he isn't like me though, being so high ranked in an large army, you need a hard head, not to be blessed with the spotlight of pink and intimate lighting.

My mother was a stern woman, if you had done something wrong, disobeyed her rules, basically anything she didn't like, you would be punished. She would spank you in front of a cross with Jesus Christ on it as you begged for his forgiveness and if you didn't beg good enough, she would leave bloody marks.

But that was only the part where you misbehaved, my mother loves us but she can lose her temper quickly which is why I'm thankful for my youngest sister, Greta.

Because of Greta's young age she is very impressionable, she is the apple of my mothers eye, she calms her down and convinces her to at least ease on the force of her punishment.

My grandfather, Bernhard, is one of the bravest men I have ever met. He was like my father, a general, it runs in our blood to be leaders of great army's, to make our mark in history. The reason why he is the bravest men I have ever met is because when he was young, on his 46th name day, he and my grandmother found out that he was sick, really sick. They advised him not to battle, to let someone else to take over. But my grandfather is too prideful for that, he would rather die and meet our saviour and creator early than sit by, not serve his country and die as a weak frail man.

He was told he wouldn't last to see his 48th name day but that was thirty two years ago and he is still holding on yet his health is rapidly declining, I fear he might go soon.

My older siblings are Valda, Stefan and Elsa. Valda and Stefan are twins, always arguing but always sharing secrets. Even though Stefan is a man and Valda is a woman, most the time it's like they've switched roles. Stefan is the brains and Valda is the brawn.

Elsa is a woman grown, the oldest. Many whisper about her and call her crazy, yet she is not. Elsa and her late husband where head in heels in love, getting married at a young age, Elsa being only 20 and her sweetheart being 22, sadly three years later, only 7 months ago, he got killed in battle, defending his fallen brethren against the pagans.

My family isn't the most perfect but we get by. We carry on our bloodline and make centuries of our ancestors proud, 'Es lebe Haus Godfrey, es lebe unsere Krieger, es lebe Deutschland'. [long live house Godfrey, long live our warriors, long live Germany.]

#vikings smut #vikings #vikings x you #vikings hvitserk #vikings fic #vikingstvshow #vikings x reader #vikingsfanfic #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk x oc #hvitserk fanfic #hvitserk fic #hvitserk smut #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk x reader

[crowwritesaway]

Ivar the Boneless x Female Reader Pt.3

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.

Stay around for more of Ivar the Boneless x Reader

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[undiscovered-horizon]

"A hammer and an anvil" - Hvitserk x Reader

<I just wrote the dialogue, liked it a lot and wanted to make it into something ok? T_T>

SUMMARY: You're the daughter of a foreign jarl who hasn't chosen sides in the war of young Lothbroks. Neither can you. The consequences would be far-reaching and dire. However, your will is not as strong as your father's and should Hvitserk ask, you know the guilt will not stop you from being by his side. The question is: will he?

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1k

People call that arrangement by different names: between the Devil and the deep sea, between a hammer and an anvil or between a rock and a hard place. No matter where the point actually is, Hvitserk is there. And it shows.

Has he made the right choice siding with Ivar? Was the choice ever his to make? What if Ivar, desiring your father's great army, whispered a few sweet words into your beloved's ear?

You're watching him stare at the ceiling in your hut. For the first time since you've met him, Hvitserk's eyes are vacant. Normally shining with mischief and his merry persona, now they're empty. Dead. He starts to feel like somebody else.

Hvitserk's fingers are slowly dragging against your skin, painting patterns with no rhythm or merit. Truthfully, he seems to be oblivious to his little habit.

Examining his profile, you can see your shield in the corner of your eye. The green paint on it is supposed to symbolise vitality and greed but now, considering the consequence of the days to come, it's the colour of grief and fear. Behind the shield is hidden your sword, freshly sharpened. Hvitserk was eager to do it for you and at first, you thought it was just him doing something for you like he always does, but now, watching his chest rise and fall in ragged breaths, you're beginning to think he just wanted to have something to do. Some way to occupy his busy mind.

The inside of your home is warm - the countless furs and burning fire. Despite that, your body feels cold as though the dread residing in the pit of your stomach is already pulling you towards your grave. Whether literal or figurative, you're not quite sure.

"Can you promise me something?" you whisper. The sound of your voice is quiet enough to almost be drowned out by the cracking firewood.

But Hvitserk heard you. He listened. Like he always does.

He tilts his head to look at you. Your noses are maybe an inch apart. His lips are curved into a smile but the sad, blank look in his eyes has stayed; his freight is arrogant enough to make itself at home inside his mind.

"Anything you want, love," Hvitserk whispers back. His breath is warm on your cold cheeks. It smells slightly sour like dry wine.

"Do not ask me to join the battle. Do not ask me to fight your brothers." You swallow your tears. The love you hold for him would not only make you defy your father but carelessly start a chain of horrid events that not even Kattegat's Seer could completely envision. Knowing your own weakness, you have to trust that maybe Hvitserk can save you from yourself. "Because I would." A bitter scoff escapes your throat. "Gods know I would do terrible things if you asked me to."

Hvitserk appears unmoved by your confession. His smile grows unnoticeably wider as his palm rests on the side of your face. A stray tear, slowly rolling down your cheek, is swept away by a gentle brush of his thumb.

"But I won't." His tone is decisive. "I don't have to heart to do so."

Instead of staring at the wooden ceiling, Hvitserk is now watching your face. The same strangely vacant and yet intense look haunts his eyes. Something akin to determination shows in his expression as though the answer to his plight is written on your face in a language he can almost decipher. If he stays up all night, looking at you, maybe by the first light of dawn, he will know exactly what he's supposed to do.

"Tell me you'll come back," you interrupt the silence once again.

Both of you know he can't say it with certainty. Nevertheless, lovers tend to believe they can somehow enchant reality.

"Of course I will," Hvitserk says with conviction. He almost makes you believe there is no other option. "Dying in battle and seeing my father in Valhalla is something I'm dreaming of but if living means I get to see you one more time, I will cling to life like a man gone mad."

Although you know his poetics through and through, they never fail to make your heart flutter. Judging by Hvitserk's stubbornness in saying them, he knows the effect he has on you and enjoys it greatly. His usual humour and charming demeanour fool you for a moment that nothing of great importance is about to happen. It's just another night like many you've had with him and are going to have.

"You speak in such a beautiful way, I often wonder if your words are honest."

His hand moves from the side of your face to cradle the nape of your neck. Hvitserk pulls you in gently and kisses you in an equally tender manner. His lips linger against yours, it's almost sentimental.

"They sound beautiful only because they are honest," he tells you. This time his kiss is more intense. "How else am I supposed to speak to a beautiful woman if not with beautiful words?"

Your giggling breaks the kiss. For a moment, you swear you could hear his low chuckle; for a moment, the world was just right.

Hvitserk's eyes aren't blank anymore. Now, there's a turmoil of happiness and sadness inside them. If a kiss is what brought him back to life then maybe he wasn't simply being charming when he compared you to a goddess countless times.

A playful smile creeps onto your face. Gently, you drag your fingers against his chest. Hvitserk inhales sharply.

"Well, I've heard beautiful women also like crude, dirty words."

"Do they?" he asks with faux surprise. Hvitserk pushes you on your back and puts his weight on top of you. His warm hand is brushing against your bare thigh. "Tell me more," he murmurs against the soft skin of your neck.

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings x you #hvitserk x you #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #vikings fanfiction #viking fic #history vikings #vikings tv series #vikings series #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk fanfic #hvitserk imagine

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Dating Ivar Would Include...

-Ivar being really protective of you like all the time. He would hate anything happening to you. Even if it is such a small thing. He would be so dramatic even if you got a small cut on yourself.

-Him buying you all the things that you need and more. He wants to make sure that you are well taken care of and that you have all the things that you want and need.

-Him loving to give you kisses and hugs all the time. He does not mind at all showing how much he loves you to everyone in the village.

-Him learning how to be honest with you and talk to you more. He never felt like he could talk to anyone and tell the truth unless it was with his mother or father.

-Him loving you in every single way that he can. He gives you gifts, love, and even tries to fix things for you if you need it.

-He always gets mad when someone tries and takes you away from him. He is so willing to fight for you in every way possible. In his mind even though you both are just dating he knows that he wants to marry you and that you are his already. So, he protects you in every way that he can.

-His brothers already like you a lot and even wish that they have claimed you before Ivar did. But they soon let that go when they realize how much you really love Ivar.

-Ivar being able to tell you everything and anything that is on his mind. He respects your opinion a lot. So, he will always ask you your opinion on things. Even if it is something political.

#norway #scandanavia #viking #vikings #imagines #nordic #vikings headcanon #vikings imagines #vikings fandom #norse #norsk #scandanavian #vikings x you #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #ivar #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #vikings ivar #history channels vikings