#ivar x female reader

[crowwritesaway]

Ivar the Boneless x Reader Pt. 2

I can’t keep up with them. My mom keeps speaking over me. My feelings go unheard and constantly invalidated by my family.

I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this…with them. You frowned, finding yourself dissatisfied with everything…with them once again.

Bzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Your phone was vibrating. Who could it be?

You turned over your phone. It was Ivar. Should I answer? I don’t want to burden him. He did say I could count on me.

You rubbed your forehead. Shit. I overdid it again. Now, I have a headache. Great. Just fucking great. You winced at the pain. Never mind, it’s a fucking migraine.

It was like a ritual. Every single time you felt stressed, worried, or just overwhelmed by your family, you would get a migraine. It felt like a curse.

Ivar pulled the phone away from his ear. He furrowed his eyebrows. Why isn’t she answering my calls? Did she fall asleep?

He glanced at the clock on his wall. 6:30pm.

He shook his head. No, she wouldn’t be asleep.

He unlocked his phone. Clicked on messages app and clicked on your name. He contemplated what to say. He didn’t want to make you feel like you did something bad. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You sigh, the phone stopped vibrating. Even if I did answer, I wouldn’t know what to say. You tossed your phone aside. I hope he understands. I don’t know how to open up. I become voiceless. It’s so hard to say what I want to.

He growled, he couldn’t say what he wanted over messages. It wouldn’t have the same impact. He blue eye narrowed on the keyboard. She’s worth it. Every sleepless late night. If they won’t care, I will. I have to remove her from that place. Once and for all. I’ve had enough of this.

He inhaled and exhaled before typing, “Whatever it is that is consuming your mind, I’ll be there for you. No expectations. Just you and me. See you soon. Love you.❤️‍🔥” He tilted his head. Should I keep the emoji or is it too much? His eyes went wide, what if I overdid it? He moved his thumb to erase it but accidentally tapped send.

He nodded to himself. My heart is on fire for her though. He stood up. That’s it. I’ll take her out on an adventure. We could go to the beach and look at the moon. And if she wants to we could stay and watch the sun rise.

He smiled. She had always wanted to go out at night. I can make her forget even if it’s just for one night. One of many.

He got off his bed and swiftly left his room. He called his driver and sent one last message to you before leaving his house.

You threw your head back, sighing. I didn’t do anything. How am I supposed to be the one apologizing?

It’s tiring listening to my mom play victim and at the same time, hurt me with her words. I feel bad and at the same time, I’m angry. It hurts.

Bzzz.. Bzzz. Bzzz. You looked away from the wall and picked up your phone. The screen light up. A message from Ivar. You unlocked your phone. You smiled. My precious Ivar. My rock. If he wasn’t around, I don’t know what I would do. At least he cares. He listens. He’s been around for so long that I hope he won’t leave me like the rest.

I shouldn’t be doubting him but after experiencing so much pain and trauma from my family, I don’t know what to expect from anyone else. But then again, he isn’t just anyone. He’s stood by my side. Ughh.

You rubbed your temples. It doesn’t feel good questioning his intentions. But it’s all I know to protect myself.

Heart emoji. I appreciate his words. His heart emoji. I’m so going to tease him.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Another message from Ivar.

It said, “Get dressed. A hoodie and sweats. It’s a chilly night. I don’t want you to get sick. I’ll take a spare one just in case. Put you first. Let’s enjoy the night and get out of our heads for a while. Please. Sneak out. 😉I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

You held back a smile. He could be so sweet and kind when he wants to.

“Throw out the trash.” Your sister told you. Fuck it. I deserve this. Right? So far, I’ve done everything to their standards. The least they can do is let me have this one night. Im an adult. I can do this.

“Did you hear me?” Throw the trash.” Your sister said, irritated. She blamed you. She was on your mom’s side.

You made a joke. It wasn’t even serious. It was a reality check that stings like a bitch to your mom.

Your mom blew up in your face. Said hurtful things. But it’s your fault. Your mom hasn’t spoken to you since the “fight”. You refuse to talk because you had enough.

You took out a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. You changed into them. You pocketed your phone and exited the room. You walked into the living room. Your mom was on the couch. She ignored you. You put your shoes on by the door.

You picked up the trash and exited the apartment. You lived in an apartment complex so the garbage was disposed on the other side. You grinned as you walked away. The sunset was beautiful. It was windy. It felt great to be away.

Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk.

You turned to look who was honking. There at the backseat of the car was Ivar, smiling as he waved his hand at you. You laughed, shaking your head. He looked insane. You lifted the trash bag and pointed that you were going to dump it. He nodded.

You dump the trash and took out your hand sanitizer. You squirted some on your hands and rubbed your hands together.

You looked around. The last thing you need is someone to report to your mom about this. Nosy neighbors.

You walked up to the car. You opened the door. He mischievously smiled as you got in. He inwardly cheered. He finally got you to go out with him.

You got inside and shut the door. “Let’s go.” Ivar told the driver. You rolled up the window. “So, where are we going?” You asked, putting in your seatbelt. “You’ll see.” You turned over to look at him. “Surprise, huh.”

“Yup, a surprise you’ll love.” Ivar replied, smiling down at you.

Thank you for reading.

[witchthewriter]

◌ 𝐈𝐯𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬/𝐨 ◌

→ female reader, requests open ⛓

SFW ●

◌ He fell in love with your smile as soon as he saw it. And the breath hitched in his throat, when he heard your laugh.

◌  When you showed that you weren't intimidated by the infamous Ivar the Boneless, he was stumped. Everyone was? So, why weren't you? He had done awful things, he lived up to his name.

◌   And yet, you knew all of this.   You knew that everyone had a past. That no one was perfect. Humans have a duality that many cannot understand. But you do.  

◌  He yearned whenever you showed him kindness.

◌  He ached whenever you weren't around.

◌  It was different to a crush, he knew you were someone special. Someone that he couldn't ignore.        

◌   He did try to push you away, but he felt so strongly about you. His nature to protect that he holds dear, was absolutely amplified. Especially if anyone said a word against you.

◌   Your relationship progressed into a friendship, first and foremost. Ivar learning that whatever he said to you was kept secret. He told you his dreams, his worries, his passions. It was difficult at first - he did not believe you were sincere.

◌ Your sincerity was like a smack to the stomach. You spoke truth; there were no hidden motivations behind what you said, nor meant.

◌  And yet, you were apprehensive too. There were far too many people that took advantage of your kindness and authentic nature.

◌  You didn't believe Ivar's advances until he stood up for you in the hall. There were visitors from a treaty and were being rude to you. It didn't take Ivar long to say anything. "One more word and I will rip your tongue from your throat." And no one said a goddamn thing about you.

◌  You moved in with Ivar, making it much more homely than it was. You have a strong afinity with Frejya and she loves cats.

◌  Ivar gifted you a kitten on your wedding day. And then a few months later, you found a sickly litter and nursed them back to health. Ivar's first response was to leave them outside to die, but he noticed the hypocricy of that. So, he helped with the herbs and finding homes for them. (You kept the two that no one wanted.)

◌  He loves when you fill the home with flowers, he appreciates the colours. Bog rosemary and Harebell are his favourites.

NSFW (🔞) ● I don't think Ivar has mobility below the waist, so I won't disrespect that fact. Sex with someone disabled is different with someone with that certain mobility. Yet, there are ways in which both people feel fulfilled ♥

◌ He was hesitant and insecure to begin with whenever something sexual unfolded. He didn't realise that you could possibly be feeling the same way.

◌ "There's nothing that could make me love you any less, Ivar." "Is that the truth?"   "There is nothing more true."

◌  If you were vocal about your insecurities (I say 'if' because not every chubby person feels this way.) He would be genuinely shocked. "There is nothing wrong with you. I don't know how you can't see your beauty."

◌  He spends most of the time making you feel good, loved.

◌  Many witty remarks are thrown around during sex; the mental stimulation makes Ivar smirk, then in turn, makes you more wet.

◌  He does like leaving marks on your skin; hickies on your chest, breasts and thighs.

◌  He likes eating you out; you sitting on his face and rubbing your pussy back and forth against his tongue.

◌  His mission is to get you to scream his name, shamelessly, to show the entirety of Kattegat that he can please a woman.

[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.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[miss-madness67]

Mother Knows Best (Ivar)

Prompt: My arranged marriage with Ivar the Boneless was not a surprise. The surprise had been finding out he did not want to lay with me. Are the rumors of his incapabilities true? Is sex the answer to learn to love each other? I do not know. He scares me, but he is no less fascinating. That is why I decided to give him a chance. Slight AU. Ragnar does not die, neither does Aslaug. They rule side by side and decide to ally themselves with the Saxons.

Mother looks at me across the table. Her eyes are expectant, her expression unamused. She waits for me to say something; to tell her that I am already with child. But because I am not, I remain quiet.

“I would like to know my grandchild, preferably,” she says, “but it would be nice if at least I know you are with child before you leave Wessex.” She gives me a hard stare. Oh, I know she would like that, that’s the reason she has given me plenty of recommendations on how to please my husband in bed. Not that I have applied them.

A month ago, I was given the news that I was to be wed to the youngest of King Ragnar’s sons. A man I hadn’t even met and whose ruthlessness was well known. It was a political marriage. Arranged so our kingdoms would become friends instead of foes. My grandfather, King Ecbert, wanted to have a good relationship with the heathens, so he promised my hand for peace. I always knew I would be married for the good of my kingdom and not love, but that does not mean the news was less disappointing.

The wedding took place two weeks ago, right after the arrival of the Vikings. And as I approached the altar, that was the first time I laid eyes on my husband. His cold demeanor rendered me speechless, but his hard blue-eyed stare sent shivers down my spine. He was sitting on a chair waiting for me. I knew his legs were useless, so that did not surprise me. I tried not to stare during the ceremony but failed miserably. He had looked at me annoyed yet intrigued.

My father, Prince Aethelwulf, was displeased with the marriage, but he had little to no say in the matter. My mother Judith, even though she was in favor of the union, she did not agree with the choice of groom. She thought Ubbe or Sigurd would have been better candidates. King Ragnar himself had chosen Ivar, and my grandfather had agreed with the promise that he would be able to provide children. His ability to lay with a woman had many rumors, but King Ragnar had assured that Ivar was no less of a man in that matter. Not that I would know, because I had yet to lay with him.

The night of our wedding, the bedding ceremony had been canceled due to the Viking’s request. So when I entered the chambers, there was no pressure in laying with him. Yet, I expected he would have wanted me to because he is a man. That had not been the case. That night, we laid side by side in silence until the sun raised. Back then I had been grateful because I did not want to sleep with a man I barely knew, but now I have begun to question myself. Does he not find me attractive? Does he know how to lay with a woman? Is he really not physically able? Does he prefer men?

It is necessary for us to have a child in order to fortify the alliance. That is why my mother had given me tips to please him. I had yet to use them, I feared to do so. In all honesty, I had been afraid of my husband when I first heard of him, and during our wedding. I have heard how he is and I have seen how he treats people. However, that fear has receded ever since. These past two weeks he has been nothing but kind to me, even a little shy. That’s probably the reason why I have started to feel attraction towards him. That and his sharp mind. At first, I did not know how to speak his language. He has been slowly teaching me. And I have seen him playing chess with Alfred, it is honestly fascinating.

“It would be wise for your marriage if you have passion in the bedroom, darling,” my mother says.

I know she means good, and I know she is probably right, but I have to bite my tongue from mentioning her passion with my grandfather. Her marriage with my father is a mere paper. I do not wish my marriage with Ivar to be the same, despite the circumstances. But she does have a point, she has a very good relationship with my grandfather, whom she beds. Sex must be the answer to get closer to Ivar. And maybe, with time, we could learn to love each other. That is a foolish thought, but it is what motivates me to wait naked in bed. He arrives at the dormitory shortly after twelve. He has been drinking with his brothers, but all the inebriation leaves him once he sees me.

“Hello, my…” he does not like it when I call him titles, so I correct myself, “... Ivar. I have been waiting for you.” He does not say anything. Heat accumulates in my face. Does he not like what he sees? I fight the urge to cover myself and hide between the covers. His hands tighten around his crutches.

“What… What are you doing like that? What if someone other than me were to come in?” He questions, he seems angry at the idea, but his eyes do not leave my body.

“I made sure no one other than you were to come inside, my husband,” I whisper. Ivar must notice that I am not completely myself acting like this, because he looks away.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” He approaches the bed and sits down, his back to me. “I know this is an arranged marriage, we do not have to do anything that you do not want.” His voice is uninterested but his words are sweet. I hesitate.

“I know, but we are expected to bear children.” He tenses. He does not say anything, he starts to take off his leg braces. I wait patiently. The room is colder when he speaks.

“If that is what you wish this is unnecessary, you do not have to remove your camisole.” His voice is harsh and I know I said something I was not supposed to.

“It is not only about that,” I try to correct myself though my voice waivers in nervousness, “I wish… I wish for us to enjoy making children.” It is the most direct way for me to express my desire for him.

He stops what he is doing and turns around. He looks me in the eyes looking for uncertainty. I know he finds none when he drags his body towards me. His arms muscles flex and something knots in my belly. He looms over me with a hungry stare.

When he opens his mouth I think he is about to devour me but he speaks. “Do you not know the rumors? Do you not know what they say?” He does not wait for me to answer, “apparently, I can not please a woman, I can not give children, I am a useless husband.”

I do not hesitate to answer, “I do not listen to rumors, I like to verify for myself,” I put a hand on his chest and the other around his neck. “If it is false, then we shall prove them so, and if it is true, then we shall not give up until we try everything.” He looks doubtful, “I… have learned a few tricks that shall please my husband.”

His surprise is evident when he speaks, “well, I have also learned a few tricks that shall please my wife."

I smile, “then, let us learn from one another.” I do not have time to say anything else before his lips crash with mine.

It is uncertain if we will succeed this night or another, or if we will have children, or if we will learn to love each other. The only thing that I am certain of is that we care for one another. At this moment, in my husband’s arms, I feel like never before.

[redskull199987]

Early Mornings

Ivar the Boneless x female!reader

Word count:1.1k

Warnings:a little bit steamy

Summary: You find yourself in a delightful situation after waking up, but are suddenly interrupted by an unexpected visitor...

Gif by @underragingwaves

Masterlist

Part II

I slowly tried to open my eyes. But it seemed so hard. I was too lazy and the bed too warm.

Finally, my eyes flutterd open and I tried to sit up, but a pair of strong arms encircled my waist. I looked up and smiled.

He seemed so calm. Ivar the Boneless, a man who was almost never calm.

I quietly turned around in his arms and admired his face. The eyes which were usually shining bright blue were now closed. His mouth slightly ajar and his chest rose and fell as he breathed.

Carefully, I let my fingers dance across his jawline. A soft stubble scratched my fingertips.

"I love you", I mumbled, "Ivar the Boneless"

"I love you too, my dear"

That caught me of guard. I tried to pull away, but Ivar was faster. He grabbed my hand, and put it back on top of his cheek.

A smile crept onto his face, as he grabbed my other arm and pulled me even closer to him.

"Ivar-", I protested, but before I could say anything more, his soft lips collided with mine and I let any protests slip past me.

I sighed against Ivar's lips and we parted slightly. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and his blue eyes gazed into mine.

"Ivar", I mouthed against his lips.

He lifted his hand and softly brushed away my hair:"My Y/N"

Ivar slowly put his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. He sighed softly, before looking at me again.

"My Y/N", he whispered again.

I smiled at him and reconnected our lips. I felt Ivar's hands wander to my waist and he pulled me on top of him, while he sat up himself.

I felt Ivar's back hit the headboard, while he pulled me closer to his chest.

"Ivar", I signed against his lips, "Please"

"So needy, huh", he chuckled.

I only looked into his eyes and nodded. A grin graced his lips and in a matter of seconds, Ivar had switched our places and he was suddenly hovering above me.

His lips attacked my neck and a moan escaped my mouth.

"Shh", Ivar whisperd, "We don't want others to hear these beautiful sounds"

I nodded and tried to keep silent while he continued to kiss across my neck.

"Those noises are only for me to hear", Ivar mumbled. His voice was stern,"Only for me"

I only nodded at his words again, not able to form a coherent sentence.

A yelp escaped my lips, as Ivar's cold hands slipped under my robe. He only chuckled and continued to lift it over my head.

He just looked at me for a second, like I was the most precious thing that he has ever seen.

"Ivar",I mumbled and pulled him towards my lips again.

Another moan escaped my lips, I felt how his frigid fingers touched my skin. Ivar grasped one of my breasts, before starting to kiss down my sternum.

I felt his other hand slip behind my back and puling my Body closer to him. His lips covered my hips in kisses.

I desperately rubbed my thighs together, to conjure some friction, as Ivar was taking his time to cover my skin in hickeys.

"Oh dear", he mumbled and I felt his hands push my legs apart. I gasped, as I felt his lips on my inner thigh.

"Fuck", I mumbled and brushed my hand through his hair. A groan left Ivar's lips.

"Ivar!!"

I have never seen a man, who couldn't walk, get up so fast and covering himself and someone else. Because the Person screaming his name, was not me, but his brother.

Ubbe. He only looked at the two of us and grinned. Our relationship was no secret to them, nor to anybody else, but still they liked to make fun of us or tease Ivar for always being so protective of me.

"You're late", he said sharply, before turnung around to leave.

"Oh, and Y/N?", he asked again.

"Yes?", I sighed and shyly peeked out from behind Ivar's back.

"Our mother is searching you", Ubbe stated before leaving.

"Shit!", I got up as fast as possible, looking for my clothes.

"Where do you think, are you going?", Ivar asked perplexed and even though he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, he managed to pull me back into his lap again.

"Ivar", I giggled. His pouting face was too cute, "I promised your mother to help her with embroidering"

"Why can't you stay?", Ivar wined, running his hands up my back.

"Because your mother is the queen of Kattegat and she will personally kill me if I am late", I chuckled and pecked his nose, before getting up.

"I'd never let her do that", Ivar mumbled.

"I know, Ivar", I smiled and grasped his cheek, "I know"

"I love you", he mumbled while I put on my dress.

"Would you help me with the Corset, love?", I asked and turned my back on him, so that he could could tie the knots.

"All done", Ivar smiled after a minute. I turned around and kissed his forehead:"Thank you"

I quickly grabbed a comb and brushed through my hair. I was about to tie it together to, but Ivar stopped me.

"Leave it", he said. I turned towards him and smiled, before dropping my hair. It fell down my shoulder, before Ivar slowly reached out for it. He grabbed a lose Strand and quietly examined it.

"I have to go now", I murmured.

Ivar nodded, before grabbing his crutches. He struggled a bit to get up, but I only watched him. Even though, I wanted to help him, I knew how stubborn Ivar was. He would never admit, that he needed help.

After a minute, he was standing in front of me. Only in his pants and his hair still slightly messed.

I chuckled at his sight.

"What!?", Ivar smiled,"Don't you like, what you're seeing?

"Oh I do", I answered, "In fact, I even love what I'm seeing"

Ivar smirked before giving me one last kiss. It wasn't as passionate as the others, but still tender and full of love.

"I love you", he mouthed against my lips.

"I love you too, Ivar the Boneless"

[lokifromvalhalla]

A nice punishment

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play

Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.

Not proofread! Sorry for any mistake!

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You sighed as your hands ran across his warm back, feeling every muscle and the bump of every scar under your fingertips. That was something you had done so many times already that you almost memorized his whole back, always knowing if there was any new scar, as small as it could be.

Ivar scoffed, his back vibrating with each word. “And what do you want me to do? Simply not go anywhere? Just sit here like your little doll, is it?” Of course he would be dramatic, twist your words just so you could feel guilty and let him do whatever he wanted, but you already had a resistance to his whining just like Ubbe and Hvitserk, even if it wasn’t as strong. Dealing with Ivar wasn’t any new to you; you were there long before Ragnar returned, then with him when Ragnar came back and took him to England, helped avenge his father’s death, and now dominate York.

The flames from the torches hanging from the stone walls illuminated the room. Ivar had taken over the cathedral so he could establish his base, and used one of the  main rooms—probably the bishop's—for himself. It was wide, rather luxurious, as a noble's place. In the first days, you would just hang around the room, but with how he kept asking you to help him with massages or undoing his braces until late at night, now it was also yours.

Today was something like this. A long day of unnecessary efforts and blueish eyes by the morning had Ivar’s muscles protesting in pain, so you were there once again, your hands rubbing oil against his rough skin in an attempt to help him despite all the complaints. He did appreciate what you were doing, though. You knew it was some sort of facade because, even between four walls and a closed door, Ivar still had to keep his goddamn posture at least in a few points to ‘keep you humble’. As if you couldn’t shape him exactly the way you wanted, just like Ubbe would do with his younger brothers sometimes.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” you chuckled against his skin and pressed a kiss to the back of his ear. “My pretty little doll, all for me to use, hm?”

Ivar was silent for a moment, choking on his own words to the same level his cheeks heated up, just seconds before he was turning around and throwing his hands in the air. “What do you think you’re saying? I’m going to feed you flaming hot iron if you keep it like this!”

Another chuckle escaped your lips as you pushed him to face forward again. “And what?” You pulled him against you so his back met your chest instead. “Lose your best warrior? Best strategist? I don’t think you could handle even a day without me, knowing I’m not coming back,” you mumbled, chin over his shoulder and arms under his whilst watching your hands work against his ribs, slowly going up.

Whatever was going on in Ivar’s mind, vanished at the moment your hands started running over his chest. Instead, there were only quiet and incoherent grumbles that you could barely make out. “(Y/n), what...” His words trailed off, breath caught in his throat—he tried to fight against the will to arch his back at the feeling of your fingers tracing his nipples, running around them until they were hard. "Wh..."

"I'm just doing the massage you asked for," you scoffed, hands going down his torso just to come up and stop right under his pecs, proceeding to go up slowly. Ivar hissed at the friction as he arched his back; his hands tugged a little on the sheets before they found their way to your thighs, hence his nails sank into the skin messily in an attempt to both ground himself and warn you. Fruitlessly, of course. "How was your day, Ivar? You just mentioned why you're in so much pain, but never really told me what happened while I was gone.”

“Quit playing.”

“I asked you a question.” The weight in your voice had him shutting up for a moment, though the silence was quickly broken by a moan. Your fingers pinched his nipple, and it shouldn’t feel so good.

Ivar sucked in a breath, at first just spitting out stutters until the way you squeezed his pec had him speaking. “I—I was training, but then got... got in a fight.”

Got in a fight? You clicked your tongue. “Ivar. You woke up with blue-ish eyes, why would you even do that?” It was entertaining to watch how sensitive he was, slowly starting to squirm just because of his chest being fondled.

An indignant gasp came from Ivar, but he paused for a moment; his head leaned back against your shoulder for a moment while his hand adjusted against your thigh. “No...! I couldn’t let that happen! H—He was challenging me! Provoking!” His voice cracked once you pinched his nipple, playing with it between your index finger and your thumb, daring to give it an experimental tug. A louder gasp escaped his lips, back arched against you.

Oh, the old discourse about how a cripple can’t rule properly, you thought. It was already getting annoying to deal with.

“Of course, you ignored everything,” you mumbled, continuing to pinch his nipple, though now also doing the same to the other, and it was enough to start reducing him to pieces—the already uneven breathing lost its pace completely while his fingers trying to grip onto your skin however they could, almost having him throw his hips in the air in search for friction. “and grabbed your little sword so you’d kill the poor man.”

“Not a poor man!” Ivar growled. “He dared to doubt... of one of the sons...” He never finished his sentence, words lost into the dark corners of the room once you let go of him so you could get off your position. “Hey! What are you doing?” The blue irises were nothing but thin rings around the dilated pupils that observed you in desire.

Your chuckle had his eyebrows lowering, mouth pursing. “I thought you didn’t like it?” You raised an eyebrow, moving around until you straddled his thighs, pushing him back against the pillows. Whatever answer he had on the tip of his tongue, it died down with the way you parted his legs with a knee, carefully, instead earning yourself a glare, but it would take a lot more to discourage you. His hips were warm under your hands as you held onto them while leaning down to press kisses to his neck, sometimes nibbling on the skin. “You complain so much, sometimes I don’t know whether it’s real or not. How do you feel being so annoying?” 

“I think that you should shut the fuck up before getting yourself killed.” Empty words, of course. Ivar liked the teasing, if anything. In contrast to his words, his arms wrapped around your shoulders at the same time he threw his head back into the pillows to grant you more access.

You breathed a chuckle against his skin, feeling it rise with a shiver according to how you trailed down. “Oh, honey, you still insist on tricking yourself that you can live without me? Pitiful.”

It was fun to tease Ivar then silence him, watch the frustration build up in groans and quiet complaints, his nails sometimes pressing into your skin a little too hard. He was once again silenced, letting out a hum instead at how your lips worked on a spot some inches down his collarbones, sucking and nibbling on the skin until a purple spot was left behind. You knew he had some sort of sensitivity when it came to his chest, but you never knew it was that great until you decided to start exploring it that night; it probably was greater that time, given how long he had gone without being touched like that.

The way he shuddered and breathed shakily just because of how your tongue ran flat over his nipple was truly rewarding. You did it once more, this time snatching a moan that extended itself by how his crotch found a nice source of friction when meeting your thigh on the way once it pushed up. Your grip on his hips didn’t really prevent him from moving, more of guiding his movements and limiting his freedom.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you came untouched,” you mention. You could taste the light herbal taste of the oil on your tongue—it wasn’t bad, actually.

Ivar clicked his tongue, glancing down at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else start praying for their life, but not you. Never you. That look didn’t give you anything more than entertainment. “Do you wish to die?”

“To kill you would be fun, actually.” A grin tugged on your lips, easily having Ivar more flustered. He wasn’t in position to criticize anything anymore, nor had enough coherent thoughts for it; he just turned his head away instead.

At first, soft kisses surrounded his nipple, soon being replaced by your teeth softly tugging on the skin, and there it was—whines spilled from his mouth with every nib until he clasped a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds. It had you pausing, taking a moment to observe his messy form. Sweat had some of his hair strands stuck to his forehead, skin already flush and glistening softly under the dancing light of the flames. His chest heaved up and down with the deep sharp inhales.

The lack of interaction had Ivar’s eyes slowly turning to look at you, and that fucking deathly gaze had something stirring in your lower stomach.

“I wanna hear you,” you finally said, pressing a kiss to his fingers before you started to tug his hand away from his face, finally kissing his lips instead. His hands somehow felt in the way of something, something he didn’t know, but it still didn’t really feel right to just grip onto the sheets while you worked on him. He whined softly against your lips, kissing back with little care because all that mattered was how good you treated him, nibbling on his lips and letting your tongue meet his.

His back started arching once you started trailing down his neck once again, this time starting to nibble on the area around his nipple right away, this time working on the opposite one, with your hands back around his hips, tightly. “Fuck,” he whispered softly, voice tight in his throat, soon replaced by a moan. Your lips wrapped around his nipple to suck softly on it until he was arching his back and fighting against your hands, so you’d change to running your tongue flat against the nub instead.

It was slow and agonizing. Every single time the feeling would start to take over Ivar, erase the thoughts away from his head and have his eyes rolling back, you were there to pull him down, ground him again. Ivar crashed back into reality with quiet complaints and groans that only motivated you to continue, even if your lips would be left sore later. Then, there it was, finally. This time, you weren’t pulling away at the moment his hips started pushing up; you continued to suck on his nipple, even letting your teeth tug on it, and he wasn’t even that restrained anymore, with one of your hands letting go of him to instead fondle with the opposite side of his chest.

A string of curses escaped Ivar’s lips, though soon interrupted by the lack of air in his lungs, his teeth gritted and eyes pressed shut. His hips dragged slowly against your thigh, sending sparkles up his body and down again, right to his lower stomach. His shorter breaths had each time more space between them, as if just breathing would drive his focus away from his release, but then, there it was; a long moan was drawn from his lips at the same moment he finally came. As much as you wanted to see the face he was making, it seemed more of an advantage to continue messing with him until he was squirming, on the edge of oversensitivity.

You pressed a kiss to the bright red skin before you finally brought yourself up to look at him. He had his eyes shut, mouth moving lightly in inaudible mumbles to himself until he opened one eye lazily to observe you.

“You good, love?”

Ivar nodded lightly. “Do you need me to...?”

“No, no.” You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “For the gods, Ivar,” you chuckled, “look at you. Came untouched, in your pants!” And just a few words had the haze that took over him fading away, replaced by his usual annoyance, curses and threats that escaped his lips seemingly unstoppingly.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Divinity - An Ivar the Boneless/Reader Smut Short.

Next drabble request from @southernbe for the prompt “I am going to fucking ruin you.”

Warnings - Smut below the cut! Minors DNI!

Words - 305

Your mouth glides along the rigid shaft of his cock, Ivar’s hands tugging at your hair as you suck upon him happily, his grunts and growls filling the air.  

“My little vixen. How well you take me into that pretty mouth.” He praises you with, blue eyes glittering like the brightest skies, his defined abs juddering as you let your tongue twirl over the head of his hardness before taking him whole once more. “Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I miss my king when he is gone from me,” you pause to speak, letting his cock drag against your lower lip.  

“You are telling me this already without words, my love. I can feel it, smell it. Your cunt perfumes the air, so full of need to be full of me.” He hauls you up, kissing you wantonly as you lie back on the bed atop him, his hand reaching between your legs to begin stroking at the soaking folds of your womanhood, gritting a curse at feeling just how dewy you are for him, his other hand spanking your backside firmly.  

Your union is fervid already, your hand grasping him, pumping his rigidity as his fingers push inside you, parting your walls deftly, hungry lips sucking upon your tongue as you share filthy kisses, everything full of indulgence and need.

The cadence of your cries reaches fever as his thumb moves to stroke at your clit, your voice breaking apart on his name, your mouth descending to nip at the thick column of his neck, lowering further, trailing over his tattoos before he pushes you onto you front, forcing your legs apart before heaving his body between them to sink himself balls deep into your heat.  

“Prepare yourself, my little doe. I am going to fucking ruin you.”

And he does. And it’s utter divinity.

[popcorn1989]

Pairing: Alex x Marco x F!reader Summary: You're working on set at the filming of Vikings. Helping out here and there, but your main job was to take care of the actors when they needed something. (Food, handing out jackets etc.) Until now everything was going smoothly, but soon you had to deal with Alex and Marco, who tries to annoy you mightily. Warning: I don't think there is anything that could trigger you. If yes, forgive me. *Note: The stories are fictional and are based on pictures I found on the internet. Words: 2820

"Have you forgotten something"

Today will be a good day - you thought to yourself, no Alex far and wide, today you didn't see him. So you could finish your work, without interruption. Yes, today will be a good day. The weather also played along, and you had decided to take your camera with you, because you would have time, after work, to take some nice landscape pictures. You had it around your neck, and it was bobbing back and forth in joyful anticipation, in front of your chest.

"What's for dinner today?" yelled Felix, looking up at you from his film camera as you passed him, "I don't know yet, I'd have to ask the cooks" you smiled at him before turning around and reaching the spot where the actors' small campers were parked. Gustaf, sat, with his Floki makeup on, in front of the open door of his camper and waved at you.

Joyfully you waved back, yes today will be a quiet and great day, everyone was here except Alex. You walked up to Gustaf who looked at you a bit questioningly, you reached into your pocket and pulled out several candies. "Well there I go, can't say no" he spoke and took the candy that was wrapped in the red paper. "Your turn in a minute?" you ask curiously. But Gustaf shook his head. "I guess I'll have to wait another hour. They had technical problems, but don't ask me which ones, I have no idea about that" - "Hm" you nod. "Is there something on your mind? Do you want me to get you something?" again he shook his head "You know me, I have everything I need" - "Let me know if that changes, that's what I'm here for. I'll go on."

You waved again joyfully before you went on your way again, and he did the same, smiled and waved after you. Oh wonderful, nothing that could spoil your mood today - joyfully, you let your steps bounce a little. Your braid bobbed back and forth on your head, your smile was so wide that you infected everyone who saw you. Katheryn, in her full Lagertha outfit, came up to you and opened her arms wide for you to hug her. You found yourself in a long hug, with her squealing joyfully. Then she let go of you and looked at the camera "Oh, did I break it?" she spoke and picked up, the cover, of the lens. "Oh, it's so old, it's survived a lot more" you laughed and took the black cover and clicked it back in front of the camera lens. "Was just the cover, it's loose" you beam at her again.

"I didn't really want to ask you, but I can't help it" - "Okay, I'm always here for you, you know that" - "I'm so craving chocolate. Maybe, but only if you have time, could you bring me something?" you nod a little exaggerated "Which one exactly, any wish" she waved off "Anyone, the one from last time maybe?" - "The one with the white dots?" she pointed at you and raised her eyebrows "Yeah, that one was damn tasty" again you nodded, you were sure you had another one somewhere in your suitcases "I'll put it in your camper later" She smiled happily as she was called. "I have to go to makeup, I'll see you and thanks" she said stroking your cheek before disappearing.

You continue your way, you had been given the task to take care of the tent again, chairs, tables, drinks, then you should go to the costumes and help where they needed you at the moment. In between you would get the chocolate, briefly you considered making a note in your phone, but you decided not to do that until several actors made requests. You liked Katheryn, she was always so kind and loving to you, your smile came back when you thought about her. Yes, really nothing could change your mood today. Nothing at all… - when you stopped abruptly. Alex was standing in front of a camper and smoking a cigarette. He stared strained at his cell phone. You quickly disappeared behind a camper, hoping that he hadn't seen you. Can't be true - you thought, annoyed.

How quickly such a mood could change. He wasn't actually scheduled to come today ...or they changed their mind and needed him after all, great - you leaned back against the side of the camper and thought about how best to avoid him when your cell phone vibrated. You reach into your pocket and pulled out your phone, the display said you had received a WhatsApp, from an unknown number. You clicked on it and the app opened. You roll your eyes as you read.

- Sweetie, are you serious? Do you think I didn't see you 😂👍

Actually you didn't want to write back, you knew it was Alex, briefly you wonder where he got your private number, but you think it would be better to lie and write him back.

- I had to leave quickly. I remembered that I had forgotten something -

Under the number appeared, … writes … again, you roll your eyes.

- Look where you are right now 😉 -

You looked up, in front of you stretched a wide meadow, not a soul was to be seen and if you would run along there, you would come only into a dense forest, you looked again at your cell phone as several messages came.

- Stupid or? - - Were you going to look for mushrooms? - - Haha, probably picking some flowers? 😉🌹 - - Everyone has his preferences. - - Did I do something to you? 😕 - - I've got something I need… -

You don't react at all, thinking you could just walk past him behind the campers without him seeing you. You click on the number and save it under Pain in the ass. Putting the phone away, it vibrated again, another message.

- Are you still there? -

Okay, no escaping from Alex, and now he could annoy you at any time by simply writing to you. If you find out who gave him your number, you will make that person so small that he will wish he was never born, probably you will do nothing of the same. So you went back around the camper and saw Alex looking up, he put his phone away and came towards you. Whatever it is, I'll put it at the bottom of my list - you thought "Oh, you're here too? Nice to see you" you spoke kindly, he waved off

"Oh, nice to see you too, good thing you just ran into me" you suppressed, your eye roll and smiled, just like you had smiled this morning, just don't let it get you down. But this made Alex become suspicious. "Are you okay? Are you hurting?" he came closer to your face and looked at it, then his eyes fell on the camera, and he started laughing "What's that?" he grabbed for it and turned it in his hand "A Nikon" you say and took it out of his hand. "Yeah, did you steal that from a museum?" again he laughed. "Och, what did you want from me now? How can I help you?" you asked in the friendliest tone you could muster.

"Can you even take pictures with it? Or does it fall apart when you press the shutter button? I mean… Hello? What's that?" He pointed at the camera, at the broken corner you had lovingly taped together with black tape. "That, Alex, is a camera and that, Alex, is tape because I accidentally dropped it" you swatted his finger away. "Why do you drop your camera? And why don't you buy another one? I mean…" he picked up the camera again, "You can't even change the lens"

- Cool, now Alex picked up his favorite topic, and you didn't really feel like talking to him about cameras - you couldn't help rolling your eyes. "First, I don't drop them on purpose, I didn't mean to. Second, I don't have the money to buy a new one and third, I don't need other lenses, I'm not doing this professionally, I'm doing it for me and fourth, what do you want from me, if I can get you something I'll be happy to do it, but get to the point. I have other work to do, I don't have time to stand here and have a chat about cameras" Alex put a hand on his chest and raised his eyebrows "Oh sorry sweetie, didn't know you were so busy. I just wanted to ask you to stock my fridge" he pointed to his camper. "What did you just call me?" you spoke confused as you looked back at him from his camper "Servant, I said servant" he spoke pretending to think.

You sigh and close your eyes for a moment, when you open them again you saw a cheeky grin from him. "I'll do it later, oh great ruler" you said and were about to pass him when he grabbed your arm, "Remember Coke, you forgot it the other day" you nodded and left. Forgotten? Merely not taken - you thought and grinned inside yourself. A little bit you could take the liberty to annoy him, too, if he did it with you. Your cell phone vibrated, when you looked at the display, you realized that "the Pain in the ass" under which you had saved Alex, had written a message

- Don't forget the gummy bears, please. 😏-

A few hours later, you were finally ready with the tent. Chairs to sit on, table full of odds and ends to eat and drink. You brush small, fine hairs from your face that had come out of the braid. Some Actors had secured their chairs by hanging their jackets over them. One of them was Marco, but he seemed very much in thought, he just greeted you nicely and left. You had left the promised chocolate in the camper during a little break. You had put a little note with it - Enjoy it, Kath - Now you would take a little break yourself and then head to the costumes, but fill Alex's fridge first. You looked at your cell phone, ten new messages, you started to groan when you saw that they were all from Alex.

14:00 - Where are you right now? - 14:02 - Ah yes, must be working 😜 - 14:05 - I just remembered that I don't want gummy bears - 14:06 - Maybe chips?- 14:07 - No, I'd rather not - 14:16 - Forget it 😬 - 14:25 - Are you off work?- 14:45 - Did you forget my fridge?😟😟 - 15:00 - Can you at least write me back?- 15:05 - Gotta go-

You don't write anything, you were about to leave to fill his fridge, you looked at the clock, 16:00. Probably you were lucky, and he would not be there, you looked around to see if you had everything of yours with you and took the bag that you had already filled with small things and drinks. Then you set off on your way. Not long, and you could finally take pictures, you hoped maybe today to photograph the sunset, which always disappeared so beautifully behind the mountain. Arriving at the camper, you put the bag on the small couch and straighten your braid, then you open the fridge and slam it shut again angrily.

It was full, everything there you needed, coke, water, ready sandwiches. You breathed in and out calmly, so you wouldn't start cursing, then you took the bag and put everything, on the small kitchen sideboard. A coke, water, gummy bears, candy bars and various fruits. You try to put some in the fridge, the rest you leave on the sideboard and leave. I'm just not going to let anything get to me - you thought.

It was time to take a break. You went to your camper and closed the door behind you. Through your Walki Talki, the directors were discussing whether they could film it with technical problems. Maybe the work day would be over quicker if they couldn't get a handle on it. You hit the off button, something you were only allowed to do on break. You grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and lay down on the small couch, you open TikTok and while you ate you laughed at some videos. When a message popped up.

- I supposed to tell you he forgot, to write you, that someone already took care of his fridge, Sorry 🙏🙏 -

Marco had written to you.

- Already seen -

You write back without opening the app, and keep scrolling through TikTok.

- Sorry and I forgot to write you that 💕 -

You shake your head briefly, forgotten, clear.

You believe that this was done on purpose so that you do a pointless job. You stuff the last piece of bread into your mouth and put your hand under your head. No one can annoy you when you have a break, no one and nothing. Besides, you were used to the guys sending you somewhere, even though no one needed you there.

- Probably, will be canceled today, they do not find the error -

You sit up as you read the message from Marco and reach for your Walki and turn it on. "Yes, I have one more idea" - "Okay, short break for everyone!"

Your phone vibrated again - Pain in the Ass inserted you into the group Gang bang - you hate WhatsApp groups, and what the hell was that name? You remove yourself from the group, no matter what he wanted, or whoever was there in the group. It was enough that Alex had your number, and by now you had an idea who had given him your number. Marco. You had given him your number because he had flown home, he was supposed to write you when he would be back and what he needed in his camper. The message never came from him, but he sent you lots of pictures and from time to time videos from TikTok.

But he never got on your nerves, he sends them and if you don't respond he doesn't ask, he just keeps sending. Like some old dude who sends you funny memes because he knows you find it funny, and that alone is enough for him. On your birthday, was the first time he wrote to you.

You looked at the clock, time to finally make your way to the costume. You throw the paper from the sandwich into the trash can, put your Walki on your belt with a last look at your cell phone and let your cell phone sink into your pocket. Actually, the day wasn't as bad as you feared. When your cell phone vibrated again, you stopped, looked around briefly, then took it out of your pocket again. - These cell phones will be our downfall - you thought briefly when you saw again that Alex had invited you to the group. From now on, it was really too much for you. How could you be so annoying? You looked at the messages that appeared.

- What's that, Alex? - - I don't know, just found it here 😁 - - Can you play baseball with it? - - I don't know, just found it here 😁 - - 😂😂😂 Okay - - Looks old, Marco- - Dip it in water, maybe it can swim? -

You frowned, you had no idea what the guys were trying to tell you, or were they just trying to get on your nerves? Then they had done it, because you didn't feel like thinking about what they might mean, so you interfered.

- What do you mean? - - What? Who are you? - - Hahaha, she can write after all, Marco 😂 - - I don't know what it is, just found it here - - Where? Where are you, what do you have? -

- Where we are right now? Here - - Look how curious she is, Marco - - Think long throw is possible with this, Alex - - 😂😂😂 Okay - - Wait, I got a deal here, Alex - - Great.... you broke it, Marco - - No, no. - - And if it wouldn't be noticeable 😂 -

- GUYS? -

- Some kind of lid, Alex - - Oh wait, I know what it is - - Why are you looking in there, Marco? - - You guys aren't seriously sitting in a tent together, texting each other? - - Pain in the ass sent a picture -

You tear your eyes open when you recognized what the boys had there in the picture. It can't be - You had looked around to make sure you had everything, but you forgot your camera in the tent. Angrily you looked at the picture again, but your anger faded, you actually thought the picture was pretty cute. You save it to your phone, so you can look at it again later.

- Guys, if you break it, you'll have to deal with me, clear??? -

You write back, the guys just sent you laughing smiley faces in response. The guys may have thought they were teasing you, but if you were honest, it made your day. You looked closely at the picture again and smiled as you walked to the costume.

[sarah-wilson-and-bucky-barnes]

ivar the boneless x black females

[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

If you enjoy reading this, consider supporting me💗

Tips

[multific]

Grown to Love You

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: mention of smut, murder, kidnapping and obsessive behaviour

Summary: He finds you during a raid. Ivar the Boneless has to have you.

You were all alone and scared when his men found you and brought you to him. One asked if he could have you, but Ivar wanted you for himself.

He loved the fire and hatred in your eyes.

In the beginning, he kept you in his home, he could tell your masked your fear with anger as you tried many times to escape, but you always failed.

Then one day, something happened.

You were just sitting there on the floor. Not cursing at him, not throwing things. Was this your new technique to escape? A new plan perhaps? Pretending that you gave up?

"What are you looking at?" you asked as he kept staring.

"That is not how you talk to your King." but you said nothing, no snarky comeback, you didn't spit at him or kick him. You just sat there, chains around your hands as you looked at the fireplace. He moved from his bed, crawling over to you, much like how he had done before.

You slowly turned and looked at him.

"What is your new plan?"

"I have no plans. Even if I get out of here, I have no home to go back to, you burned my house." he watched your eyes, took him a moment to realize, your fire was gone. No fear, no hatred, no anger.

He won.

You gave up.

"You are mine. You have been since the moment I saw you." his hand moved to lower your dress from your shoulder and kissed your skin.

"Why didn't you touch me before then? If I'm yours?"

"I will never force myself on a woman,"

"You can't even walk."

"Which is why you will have to please me."

"And if I refuse?" a hint, a slight hint of the fire came back for a second before you let out a sigh because as you looked at him, you realized he didn't mean it, the smile on his face and the eyes told you.

"My grandmother warned me about men with blue eyes. She said she had a dream that one day, a man like that would take me and I will be lost. She said it was as if I walked into the darkness. She couldn’t see me after that." you tugged on your chains. "You haven't been as bad to me as I thought you will be. I thought you would... force me, beat me and kill me. But you fed me and kept me warm. Sure, you didn't give me a bed-"

"I told you to sleep next to me."

"How can you be sure I wouldn't kill you?"

"I have sharp senses. I am a warrior." his eyes continued to just watch your every move. "Agree to become my wife and you will have a great life." 

"Wife?"

He nodded. "You will become Queen, you will become fully mine. Not my pet, but my woman. You have nothing to go back to, no one to return to."

"You killed everyone... so I'd stay with you?" he nodded. His eyes shone with something you didn't know, obsession. 

"Your beauty is captivating, I was sure you are a witch. So beautiful and gentle. I saw it in your eyes. And now, you finally gave into me. I will take you as wife, marry me and you will have a life filled with love and care." 

Your grandma was right, looking into his eyes, you walked right into the darkness, right into his arms.

He was obsessed and you were lost.

---

Couple months had passed since you were wed to Ivar.

Living the life of a Viking, you tried your best to understand their traditions and follow their life style.

But it was challenging.

So much so, that when a man commented on it, you saw a side of Ivar you have never seen before.

"What did you say?" Both you and Hvitserk looked at Ivar and then at the man. Ivar was way too calm.

"I said, your Queen is a whore! She is not even a true Viking!" the man was drunk, and probably didn't even realize what he was saying.

One second the man was laughing, clearly not reading the room as everyone sat, frozen. The next moment the man was on the floor with an axe piercing his skull.

"Does anyone else have any comments to my wife?" no one moved, no one took a breath. Ivar started laughing. 

You continued to eat. 

Hvitserk shook his head before grabbing more wine.

"You defended my honour." you turned to Ivar as he sat to take of his armour. 

"I have done that before, you just weren't present."

"Thank you."

"We have been married for months, you know I have deep feelings for you, of course I would defend you."

"I have never seen you so unhinged, so angry yet so calm, everyone was scared of you, I could feel their fear. Everyone was scared, while I was extremely aroused." this made Ivar look at you immediately. Now, topless, only wearing his trousers, he watched you, you shocked him. "You are incredible Ivar. You are so strong, people used to call you a cripple, now they fear your name and I truly realized that tonight. I am married to a true King, and My King, I wish for you to breed me tonight." lust filled your eyes.

Ivar swallowed, he watched you just standing there before you slowly brought your hands up to your shoulders, you moved your dress down as you turned, he didn't see your front, he saw your naked back. You moved onto the bed, watching him as you knelt on the furs.

"Please." your plea was barely audible, but it made him move.

Like a starved beast, he crawled over to you, meeting him halfway on the bed, your lips found his as his hands began to grab at your flesh.

Oh, how he loved this side of you.

You might play an innocent maiden when people were around, but truth was, when the moon was on the highest point of the sky, in the middle of the evening, Ivar could see your true side. You were possibly a siren, on top of him, moving up and down his shaft switching between slow and fast, your pace was always perfect. 

His hands grabbed your flesh, everywhere he could reach, thighs, hips, or breasts. 

Anything he could reach.

But you loved it the most when he sat up, meeting your lips as you still moved on top of him, his hands on your back as his lips were on yours, teeth pulling your bottom lip before moving to your neck and breasts. 

Every evening, his room smelled of sex and fire. 

You laying beside him, with your head on his chest, your finger making patterns on his skin as his arm was around your shoulder or hips. pulling you closer if that is possible.

Yes, he was obsessed with you, and yes you lusted for this man. He might have taken you from your home, trapped you and forced love out of you, but you were still here, swore to love him until your last breath.

"Do you think it worked?" he asked and you had a feeling what he meant.

"I believe, if your God is kind to us, then yes. We might have a child soon."

"Odin is great, I'm not sure if I can have children."

"Why wouldn't you? Your legs never stopped you from spilling your seed in me before. You worry for nothing Ivar, but even if tonight wasn't enough. I will never give up the hope of gifting you a child."

He smiled as you looked up at him, placing a kiss on his chin.

"I can see you with a daughter. She would make you chase her around the room, you would kill anyone for her, she would be perfect."

"Your imagination is quite something, My Love."

"I can also see you with a son. Teaching him your strategies, how to fight and survive, how to be a warrior. Only one child?" you asked.

"As many as you would give me." he replied.

"A lot of children. I would like that, it would mean when you leave for raids, I wouldn't be lonely." He looked into your eyes, seeing his blues as you smiled. You always spoke of such futures, he felt he wasn't good enough to be in them.

Having a lot of children with you was something he didn't even dare to dream about, and yet here you were. Your eyes shining with love and affection as you spoke of possible children with him.

"I love you." he whispered as you felt his palm on your back, pulling you in for a kiss. 

"I love you too, My King." You kissed him on the lips, running your hand through his hair as you soon fell asleep with him.

You woke not long after, you were incredibly thirsty so as quietly as you could, you made your way to get some water. You put on a short gown, which you often slept in.

On your way back to the bed you saw possibly the most amazing view. Nothing could compare. 

A naked Ivar, surrounded by furs as the fire made his skin glow.

His features relaxed as he slept on his back, one arm next to his head, the other laid out, waiting for your return.

Your eyes roamed his chest, running over his tattoos and muscles before you moved your eyes further down, although his cock, which always gave you great pleasure, was hidden under the furs, and your eyes longed on the visible bump before moving back up, the fur was dangerously low, making you thirsty for something other than water.

Ivar was a work of art. You were convinced he didn't even realize how tempting he was.

He moved ever so slightly in his sleep. AS if his subconscious was looked for you, his arm twitched, begging for you to return.

And you did. You moved back on the bed, right where you left from.

Oh, how you wished his seed took, gifting him a child would make you the happiest. You know you had to dissolve every doubt in his mind, but you were ready for the challenge. 

You went back to sleep as his arm moved back to your waist. Slightly pulling you close as he let out a long sigh.

You drifted back to sleep.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357 @trshngyn​ @top1bbgloak

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[miss-madness67]

2. In This Life (Ivar Vikings)

Sometimes you feel as if you belong in another era, the past seems to be more your home than the present. Other times, you are stuck in the now. Through a dozen of lifetimes, you have searched for each other. From a Viking to a university student, Ivar has always been the love of your existence.

Chapter 2: Dream Man

They say dreams are reality modified. They say you dream what you most desire. Apparently, in the clouds of unconsciousness and peaceful rest, the choices are infinite and utterly yours. Hidden yearnings shape what shows before your eyelids, or more like, inside your brain. That is the romantic, hopeful explanation of dreams. It doesn’t seem to be true at all, at least not for you. Bullshit. If this were the case, why would you crave someone you have never met? Every night, gorgeous blue orbs, only for your enjoyment. Or better yet, why would your nights be plagued with someone you just noticed for the first time? Ivar Lothbrok. He has been in your class since the beginning of the semester, and you just became aware of it. To believe that want him is a joke. Then why is he so, softly looking at you right now, and you instantly melt.

Read on: AO3 / Patreon

Tags: @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

[lokifromvalhalla]

MASTERLIST

╔═════*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═════╗

⟐VIKINGS

IVAR THE BONELESS

⟐ I'm here for you | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Angst Words: ± 1 800 Everyone can feel the weight of the last events on their shoulders. Mainly Ivar, but he won't be able to handle it if (y/n)'s also angry at him.

⟐ A poisoned mind | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff Words: ± 2 000 (Y/n) can't help but to wonder whether Ivar really trusts them, what they don't know it's that everything is just a matter of insecurity.

⟐ I miss you (1/2) | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff / Light angst Words: ± 4 400 You had always been Ivar's right hand, but something happened, so now you are in the hands of Prince Oleg. Oleg, however, brings you a little gift after one of his trips.

⟐ I miss you (2/2) | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff / Light angst Words: ± 3 000 "Elhaz wasn’t my name, in the first place. It was for me what ‘Boneless’ is for Ivar, a title, one that was given to me by Ivar since, in his words, I’m his protection, the one who makes everything feel sacred, the safety. His safety. Eventually, it was all that really mattered, and turned into what some people call me. Does he remember it?"

⟐ Clean your mind | Ivar The Boneless x Male Reader | Ivar The Boneless x amab Reader

Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 3 100 Kind of content: Fingering / Anal sex / Some praising You help Ivar clean his mind and let go of all the stress that bothers him lately.

⟐ Be patient | Ivar The Boneless x Male Reader | Ivar The Boneless x amab Reader

Genre: Smut Mordern! AU Words: ± 3 100 Kind of content: Toys / Anal sex / Edging Ivar needs to be taught a lesson.

⟐ Time and humility | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Fluff Words: ± 1 600 A curse leaded to Ivar being turned into a half-cat person, which he doesn't really knows how to deal with nor does his partner, but they figure it out despite how stubborn Ivar can be.

⟐ What's the fun in that? | Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Genre: Comfort / Light angst Words: ± 3 800 Ivar is captured by Oleg. (Y/n), the Rus army commander, is both interested and interesting.

⟐ A nice punishment | Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader

Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.

╚═════*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═════╝

You may find some of my works in AO3 with light alterations since I post there using an OC instead of reader. Except for that, my works aren't published anywhere else nor here under a different user. Let me know if you see something off.

[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]

Chapter II: Corazón

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked. 

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur​ and @ivarsrideordie​ for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!

In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable. 

You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know? 

The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.

The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else. 

 “Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?” 

“Did you know?” 

You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.

“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.

You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation. 

“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--” 

“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.” 

“They love--” 

“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?” 

“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.” 

“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.” 

“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.” 

“Why can’t it be?” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded. 

“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”

Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.

“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.

“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier. 

“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.” 

“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.

“Hobie, por dios.” 

“He broke up with you, didn’e?” 

You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words. 

“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.” 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.

“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.” 

“How sweet.” 

You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab. 

“What is it now?” 

“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”  

“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”

“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.” 

You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.

“That hurt, Hobie!” 

Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--

“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.” 

“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.” 

“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?” 

Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?” 

“I can handle myself.” 

“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.  

“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.

“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”

“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”

There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.

Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did. 

“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.

“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.” 

Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?” 

“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.” 

“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.” 

“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.” 

He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them.  You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck. 

“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.” 

Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work. 

“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”

If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was. 

“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.” 

“You should be able to control your own feelings.”

“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.” 

Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care. 

“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.

Fine. If he was going to ignore you--

“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?” 

There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.

You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?” 

“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?” 

Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”

You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”

The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.

“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”

No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.

Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long. 

That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.

“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?” 

He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying. 

“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.” 

His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.” 

Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”

“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.

“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.” 

“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.” 

“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it. 

“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again. 

His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus. 

Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts. 

You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright. 

“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--” 

“Muñeca,”

“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”

“You would if he was?” he bristled.

“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart. 

“You didn’t need to.” 

“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?” 

He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you. 

He didn’t need to say it.  

“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”

[ninchen1909]

The wrong groom

Pairing: Ivar the boneless x female reader

Word count: ~ 2.500

Hey,

this is the first time I write for a Vikings character. Also English isn‘t my first language, so I apologize in advance for possible mistakes.

I hope you have a great day!

Warnings: mention of killing disabled children, mention of alcohol, kind of arranged marriage but also not

"How can you ask this of me father?" you turn to him angrily, your dress swinging elegantly around your body. All of your father's advisors look at the floor, not daring to say a word. Even the priest, who always follows your father like a faithful, obedient dog, stands before you with his head bowed.

"How can you ask me to marry one of these barbarians, they stand for all that we despise. How in God's holy name can you ask me to marry one of these sinners?"

Your face is flushed red with rage, your hands clenched into tight fists. You have always been different from all the other princesses you have known. You never let anyone tell you to shut up and you always stood up for your convictions. At some point your parents realized that they could never chastise you and made a deal with you to control your temper at least in front of visitors and other nobles.

"You must do it my beloved daughter, for our kingdom, for our freedom and for our people."

Tears well up in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you can't quite tell yourself. A few days ago, you were simply the princess of one of the smaller kingdoms in England, never attracting the interest of the Northmen until they suddenly and without warning attacked your city. Half of your army have already been killed and it is almost certain that your city could not withstand another attack.

"But why me father, why not Sophie, you've wanted to marry her off for a long time, she's older and wiser than me." Your tone has by now lost its sharpness, desperation winning out over fear.

"Sophie does not have your strength, my child, she would perish in their world, but you can become stronger in it." The look in your father's eyes becomes softer, you even think you can recognize pity in it.

"Do I even have a chance of getting out of this unmarried?" your father shakes his head, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

"They are already on their way to us, King Ragnar with his sons and some retainers, we will discuss the details at a feast today."

"May I at least know the name of my intended?" you cross your arms stubbornly in front of your chest, a behavior for which other princesses would have experienced great suffering, but your father has to suppress a smirk.

"Prince Sigurd"

A few hours later, the feast is in full swing, together with your sister, your father, and his closest confidants, you sit on a raised table in the back of the Great Hall.

Your appetite has left after a closer observation of the Nordic table manners. Disgusted, your mouth tightens as you see them talking with their mouths full and not seeming to understand the meaning of cutlery at all. The wine flows in streams and soon you realize that they seem to be able to hold more alcohol than the men in your town.

All evening you feel the eyes of one of Ragnar's sons on you, you know from the description your father gave you of your future husband that it is not Sigurd. Crutches are leaning against the wooden bench next to him and his attentive, alert eyes follow your every move. His dark brown hair, like the hair of the other Northmen is worked into beautiful braided hairstyles. Your father seems to be able to interpret your gaze clearly, as unobtrusively as possible, he leans in your direction and whispers to you:

"This is Ivar, he is the youngest son of Ragnar and according to stories also by far the most bloodthirsty and brutal among the brothers. So stay away from him."

A silent nod is your answer, but to your own dismay, your father's words don't repulse you, but rather make the interest in  Ivar grow in you. During the whole time, his ice-blue eyes are constantly directed at you, even when you look directly at him, he does not avert his gaze from you, but gives you an arrogant smile, much to your astonishment.

Throughout the evening, your eyes meet again and again, and each time anew goose bumps cover your body, the dangerous aura that surrounds him captivates you, and as if automatically, your hand finds its way to the cross that hangs around your neck, you clasp it tightly with your fist.

The festivity goes on like all the previous ones. Everyone gets drunk and all the noble, God-fearing men, as time passes and alcohol consumption increases, look for a young woman for the night, who in no way resembles their spouse.

With your father's consent, you get up from the table as inconspicuously as you can and leave the hall almost in a hurry. You hold up the skirt of your dress to get ahead faster and so you walk quickly straight towards the stables.

Your entrance is accompanied by the excited neighing and nervous scraping of hooves as you make your way as quietly as possible to the last stall. In it stands your most faithful friend in the kingdom, the only one you don't have to worry about betraying you. Carefully you push the latch aside and enter the box with slow steps. Dark, loyal eyes beam at you as you lovingly bury the flat of your hand on the snow-white fur.

"Greetings, my old friend," you carefully lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, the smell of fresh hay rising to your nostrils, and for the first time this evening, you seem to be able to breathe properly. You tenderly stroke your horse's nostrils as you hear a steady clacking sound in the front of the stable. With a jerk, you turn around, prepared to spot the potential danger and fight back if necessary.

However, you would never have expected to meet the person who is now standing in front of you. You watch as he moves slowly but smoothly toward one of the hay bales and drops onto it, his crutches leaning next to him within reach.  Now he looks at you through his thick lashes. The sky-blue of his eyes makes you shiver pleasantly and for a brief moment you think your legs would give out their service and make you fall uncomfortably to the ground. Quickly you try to hide this.

"What are you doing here my prince, shouldn't you be out in the hall getting drunk with the other men and lusting after the women?"

You yourself are taken aback by your direct words, but you don't let this show. Unlike expected, your words do not make him angry, but rather seem to amuse him. For a short time later, a raucous, throaty laugh fills the stables.

"You're different little raven, aren't you? Most of the other princesses I know are obedient and well-behaved, but you carry the fire of Freya in you." An arrogant but also admiring smile spreads on Ivar's face.

"You are also different from most people I know, because most people I know have two functioning legs and can actually walk of their own free will."

no sooner have you said these words than you regret them. You never wanted to be someone who limited others only to physical attributes. His smile begins to stiffen and the playful spark has also disappeared from his eyes.

"I guess you're right about that little raven" you notice him reach for his crutch and tense his upper body to hoist himself up. You hurry to place a hand on his forearm, an apologetic expression coming to your face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just you they don't get many people like you, most of you are..." you dare not finish the sentence, which Ivar takes from you though.

".... Killed or left for dead. I know."

Under your hand you notice how his muscles relax again and Ivar seems to loosen up again. An uncomfortable silence spreads over you, only the scraping of hooves and the flaring of nostrils can be heard around you.

"You said before that I had the fire of Freya in me."

With a nod, Ivar indicates for you to continue talking.

"Who is Freya?"

a slight smile spreads across his face after your question and he leans a little further towards you.

"One of our goddesses, especially in times of war we think of her and make sacrifices to be in her favor."

"So you're comparing me to a goddess who brings death and disaster to people?"

you raise an eyebrow.

"Believe me that is an honor, she is one of our Most Favored Gods, but if it soothes your Christian heart, she is also the Goddess of Marriage and Love."

Slightly you nod to yourself as you soak up this knowledge.

"You said Freya is one of your gods, who else do you make sacrifices for?"

Ivar looks into your face trying to find some form of dishonesty there, however the only thing Ivar can discern there is genuine curiosity.

Eagerly, you listen to his soothing voice as he tells you about the father of the gods, Odin, Thor, Loki, and all the others gods.

After the feast, King Ragnar has decided to stay with his whole troupe until your and Sigurd's wedding, so that you can then sail back with them to their homeland and a new life.

Against all expectations, you spend most of your time with Ivar instead of your future husband. You realize that none of the stories do justice to Ivar's character, at least not when he is with you. Of course, you recognize his gruff, sometimes even sadistic manner when he is with other people. With you, however, he is tender and attentive, always giving you his complete attention and patiently explaining everything you want to know. He tells you stories of his adventures and of what awaits you in your new home.

With each passing day you notice how your feelings for Ivar increase and your interest in Sigurd decreases until it finally ceases to exist, each day your heart yearns more for the man with the crippled legs. Never does he treat you as if you were beneath him. Every day he tells you stories about his travels, his homeland and his gods and to your own amazement he listens attentively to your stories about your god. After only a few days you realize that his mere presence makes you happy, every day you wake up in anticipation of spending your day with him. And he seems to feel the same way. In all this time Sigurd never once seeks your company, nor does he make any effort to get to know you better. Ivar even more so.

Three days before the wedding you can't take it anymore, you have to stand by your feelings or you will be unhappy for the rest of your life.

With quick steps you make your way to the throne room with one hand grasping the skirt of your dress so as not to trip without knocking you push open the heavy wooden door and look into the astonished faces of your father and King Ragnar.

"Daughter, how dare you..."

"Father, please forgive the intrusion, however, I need to talk to you about something that has been depriving me of sleep for several nights now."

At your words, your father's features soften and his voice loses some of its original sharpness.

"Speak then, my daughter."

"I don't want to marry Sigurd, I don't think we're right for each other either..."

Your father interrupts you, before you can finish your sentence.

“You are going to marry one of King Ragnars sons, that’s not something I’m going to debate with you, daughter.”

“Yes father I know and I’m going to marry one of his sons, just not Sigurd..”

Your father sinks back into his chair, your eyes briefly fall on the King of the Northmen, his bright blue eyes patterning you with interest.

"Why don't you want to marry my son Sigurd, he's a good man".

The Northman squints his eyes slightly, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"I do not question that he is a good man, however I have the impression that we would not be good for each other."

"And why do you think that?"

Ragnar rises from his chair and walks toward you with slow steps, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. Nervousness rises in you, but you try to suppress it with all your might.

"And I want to hear the real reason."

"With all due respect King Ragnar, I am not under the impression that Prince Sigurd is interested in finding a wife and starting a family. Besides, I don't think I have the physical attributes your son desires in a partner."

A smile creeps onto his lips, while your father is shocked and enraged by your bluntness.

“Daughter, how dare you to speak to King Rag..”

“Fair enough…”

The Northman interrupts your father without sparing him so much as a glance.

…..which one of my sons do you want to marry princess (y/n)?“

“Prince Ivar, my king”

The shocked gasp of you father fills the thronroom and even king Ragnar seems surprised by your demand.

“I noticed on our first day here, that you weren’t really found of him, so what changed?”

“That’s true, at first I was scared of him, I heard many stories about how brutal and violent he can be and to be honest I don’t doubt that for a second. But as I spend time with him, he showed me, what I believe is the real him. He is soft and caring with me, he lifts up my spirit every time I see him. And he never gave me the feeling like I was inferior to him because of my gender. He is smart and a excellent strategiest, I wasn’t lucky enough to see him fight so far. But from what I heard, he is a outstanding warrior too.  And I would be honored to become his wife.”

After your speech you lower your head slightly, not daring to look at your father, a short but intense silence falls over the three of you. It feels like an eternity, until you hear King Ragnars loud an clear voice.

“Then so be it.”

[gwen-novella]

Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet

Pairing: Ivar x female reader

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n

Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.

Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.

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

(*) smár brandr = little blade

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 

The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 

The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 

Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.

When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.

Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 

You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 

"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 

"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."

Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 

Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 

He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.

Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 

"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 

If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 

If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 

"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 

You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 

Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 

Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.

In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.

Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.

You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 

"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 

Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding Kink

Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 

Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."

Trust Kink (?)

Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 

As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 

As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you.

Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.

Sharing.

Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."

Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.

His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 

"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 

Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 

It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 

That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.

As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.

You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 

"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 

When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."

"I do not."

Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 

As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.

As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 

"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"

Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."

To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

To quote TPAW:

"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 

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

(*) smár brandr = little blade