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#ivar x y/n
zapreportsblog · 6 months
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings
✭ summary : ivar has always thought of himself to be a failure of a man, his legs did not work like an normal man, his prick did not work. The only thing he was good for was being a prince and a warrior though he wasn’t all that good at being even those in his eyes, but then along came a woman. One so pure, so beautiful she looked to be a goddess amongst men. And with those sweet words she spoke “I will bare you many sons ivar the boneless.”
✭ authors note : I have requests closed as y’all seen but it’s only temporarily, haven’t really been up to writing and seeing as how I had many ideas in mind for stories I thought fuck it let’s try again
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The morning sun cast a golden glow over the great hall of Ivar's family estate, illuminating the long wooden table laden with bread, cheese, and freshly caught fish. Ivar sat at the head of the table, his older brother Sigurd to his right. As usual, Sigurd couldn't resist testing his patience.
"Good morrow, brother," Sigurd teased, a wicked glint in his eye. "Have you finally learned how to eat without spilling half your breakfast on your tunic?"
Ivar clenched his jaw, determined to keep his composure. Their sibling rivalry had existed for as long as he could remember, and it showed no signs of waning. He forced a strained smile. "I'm making progress, Sigurd, unlike some."
Before the exchange could escalate further, the heavy wooden doors of the great hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A thrall, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, stumbled into the room. The hushed conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to the intruder.
Ivar rose from his seat, ready to reprimand the thrall for her lack of decorum, but before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees, her head bowed low.
"Forgive me, my lords," the thrall panted, her voice trembling. "I bring urgent news."
Ivar exchanged puzzled glances with Sigurd. Urgent news was a rarity in their peaceful corner of the world. He gestured for the thrall to continue.
She raised her head, revealing wide, terrified eyes. "Freya herself has come and blessed us. She walks among us."
The words hung in the air like a spell, and a collective gasp swept through the hall. Ivar's skepticism wrestled with the growing sense of anticipation. Gods did not simply descend from the heavens to walk among mortals.
Before he could question the thrall further, the great hall erupted into chaos. The guests and servants rushed toward the entrance, shoving past each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the so-called Freya. Ivar, however, moved reluctantly through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.
And there she stood, in the center of the throng, an ethereal vision that defied belief. Freya, if that truly was her name, had luscious hair that billowed in the wind, eyes that seemed to hold both otherworldly wisdom and untold mysteries. Her face was mature but agelessly youthful, her features mirroring the very essence of a Viking legend. It was as if the stories of the gods themselves had come to life.
The hall was filled with awe-struck whispers as people fell to their knees, proclaiming that the gods had indeed come to pay them a visit.
Amidst the reverence, Freya's gaze found Ivar's, and she offered him a serene smile. A shiver ran down his spine as their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them.
"We have much to talk about," she said, her voice carrying a mysterious weight that left Ivar both uneasy and captivated.
As the crowd continued to kneel and worship the divine presence before them, Ivar couldn't help but wonder what secrets this so-called Freya held and how her arrival would reshape their world.
Ivar stood alongside his older brothers, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubba, each of them caught between awe and skepticism as they gazed upon the enigmatic woman who claimed to be Freya. The hall had fallen into reverent silence, save for the murmurs of those who dared to question her divine presence.
"Are you truly the goddess Freya?" Sigurd finally ventured to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Freya, or the woman who bore her name, smiled, but her response held an air of mystery. "My face holds many names, Freya may just be one of them."
The brothers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her cryptic words. It was Ubba who stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the ethereal figure before them. "Why have you come to bless us, then?" he inquired, his tone respectful but inquisitive. "If I may ask without sounding rude."
The woman, who had introduced herself as (Y/N), let out a melodic laugh that echoed through the hall. "Rude? Not at all, dear Ubba. You see, I am here for Ivar."
Ivar's heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward him. He had been prepared for many things this day, but not for such a direct and unsettling revelation. He struggled to find his voice. "For me?"
(Y/N) nodded, her enigmatic smile never faltering. "Yes, for you, Ivar. If you were to accept me into your home, I would bear you many healthy children."
The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning and implications that Ivar could hardly fathom. The weight of her gaze bore down on him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul. It was a proposition unlike any other, one that would reshape not only his destiny but that of his family and people as well.
Sigurd couldn't suppress the unease that gnawed at his heart. He looked from his brothers to (Y/N), his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why him, and not one of us?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
(Y/N) met Sigurd's gaze with an unwavering serenity. "You are all favored by the gods," she began, her voice carrying an air of wisdom. "But Ivar, he is favored above all. The accomplishments you will face, the children you will bear into this world—they will be great, but not as great as his."
The revelation left Sigurd and his brothers exchanging troubled glances. It was a difficult truth to accept, that their destinies were preordained and that Ivar's path would surpass theirs. But even in the midst of their uncertainty, (Y/N) offered a glimpse of hope.
Ubba, ever the one to voice the unasked questions, spoke next. "If you are truly Freya," he began cautiously, "then how come you are here with us and not your husband, the Allfather? I do not wish to be rude, but you are married to Odin, are you not? Yet you speak of carrying my brothers' children."
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes holding a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Odin and I have long since split," she explained. "But for the sake of the other gods, we remain faithful to one another—just not in the way one would think."
The brothers exchanged another set of glances, their minds trying to grasp the complexities of divine relationships and the implications of (Y/N)'s presence in their lives.
Amidst the questions and uncertainties, Ivar felt a wave of insecurity washing over him. He couldn't help but voice his doubt, his voice laden with self-deprecation. "You should choose one of my brothers or someone else," he said, his tone laced with a mix of humility and resignation. "They are able men and can do all the things a woman would need in a man. You don't deserve a cripple like me."
(Y/N) turned his head gently, making him meet her gaze once more. Her smile remained, unwavering. "But yet I chose you."
The words held a weight that Ivar struggled to comprehend. In that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depths of the path that lay ahead, one where gods and mortals intertwined in ways he had never imagined.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Ivar found himself giving in to the uncharted territory that (Y/N) had brought into his life. The same night they met, they wed an impromptu ceremony all of Kattegat’s members and held a extravagant feast of celebration.
Now, in the dimly lit chamber, amidst the cheers and laughter, the newlyweds were about to partake in the bedding ceremony. Ivar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he apologized, his voice tremulous. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
(Y/N) leaned in close, her eyes holding a comforting reassurance. "You'll do just fine," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I've seen how your first time went, my dearest ivar. It is normal to be nervous, especially when it's not the one you truly want."
Ivar felt a surge of relief wash over him. Her understanding words eased his doubts, and he let himself surrender to the passion that simmered between them.
Throughout the night, their love-making was fervent, passionate, and filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. The hours blurred together, and the dawn found them entwined, their bodies and souls intimately connected.
The next morning, Ivar awoke with a grin that was unusually happy for the stoic prince. Ubba, his older brother, noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but inquire, "Did something happen to Sigurd, brother?" He assumed that Ivar might have witnessed their brother's misfortune or a rejection.
Ivar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort, brother."
Not long after both brothers had been joined by Floki - a member close to their family especially their father and seen as another father figure to ivar, for breakfast, the trio exchanged casual conversation, and Ivar's newfound happiness was hard to conceal. In the midst of a seemingly mundane conversation about the weather, Ivar couldn't contain himself any longer.
"I must share some news," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence. "Last night, I performed well in bed. Every round, to the very end."
Ubba, caught off guard, nearly choked on his mead. Floki raised an eyebrow, intrigued but nevertheless proud by the sudden announcement. "Is that so, Ivar?"
While Ubba struggled to contain his astonishment, he managed to offer a hearty congratulations to his brother, even if a tinge of bitterness lingered. The doubts that had plagued Ivar, the assumptions made by his brothers, had all been dispelled in the passionate hours he had shared with (Y/N).
It had been just a week since Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, but the news that swept through the village was enough to send everyone into celebration. (Y/N), still affectionately referred to as Freya by the villagers, was pregnant with the heir of Ivar, the prince of Kattegat.
Upon hearing the news, Ivar wasted no time in throwing a grand feast to celebrate this momentous occasion. The great hall was adorned with banners and torches, and the long tables were laden with the finest foods and meads. It was a joyous occasion, and the entire village turned out to celebrate the impending arrival of their future leader.
Throughout the festivities, Ivar's attentiveness to his wife was unmistakable. He was by (Y/N)'s side at every turn, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. If she desired a drink, he would fetch it for her or have a thrall pour it with haste. When she wanted more meat, he ensured her plate was overflowing with it. And when she complained of stiffness in her shoulders and back from the long hours of celebration, he was there to ease the tension, his strong hands working wonders on her weary muscles.
Everyone could see the happiness that (Y/N) brought into Ivar's life, and it was evident in every glance, every gesture, and every tender touch between them. Despite the brevity of their marriage, their connection was undeniable, and it had only grown stronger with the promise of a child.
As the night wore on, and the revelry continued, Ivar found himself in a state of contentment he had never known before. With (Y/N) by his side and the prospect of fatherhood on the horizon, he couldn't help but look to the future with hope and excitement. The people of Kattegat watched their prince with admiration, knowing that he was not only a formidable leader but also a devoted husband, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his heir.
The months had went by swiftly and soon the long-awaited day had arrived. The air in the room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as (Y/N) prepared to give birth to Ivar's heir. The labor had been long and exhausting, pushing (Y/N) to her limits, but she persevered with unwavering strength and determination. Ivar stood by her side, providing constant support and encouragement, never leaving her sight.
As the hours turned into eternity, the cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwife worked diligently, guiding (Y/N) through each contraction, offering words of comfort and reassurance. By her side, Ivar held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the strain etched upon her features but admired her resilience in the face of such intense pain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the moment arrived. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and tears of relief streamed down (Y/N)'s face. Ivar's heart swelled with joy as he looked upon the tiny face of his firstborn son. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if the gods themselves had blessed this moment.
"I am truly blessed by the gods," Ivar whispered, his voice filled with awe. "For I have a wife, the fairest of them all - the goddess Freya herself - in my arms, with my firstborn son, an heir. I never thought I would find such happiness, but I am grateful that I have."
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand to touch Ivar's cheek, her touch filled with tenderness and gratitude. "And I am blessed to have you, my dearest Ivar," she whispered. "You have given me strength and love beyond measure."
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, overshadowed by the miracle of new life. Ivar and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the precious gift they had been given.
The midwife gently placed the newborn in (Y/N)'s arms, and Ivar marveled at the sight. His heir, his legacy, lay peacefully in his mother's embrace. There was a newfound sense of purpose and responsibility that settled upon Ivar's broad shoulders.
As he looked upon his wife and son, Ivar knew that he would protect and cherish them with all his might. He, a warrior feared by many, had found his greatest joy in the form of his family. With a heart filled with love and gratitude, Ivar vowed to be the father his son deserved, and not the man his own father had been.
Six years had passed since the day Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, and in that time, Ivar had become a force to be reckoned with. At the age of twenty-four, he had accomplished more than he had ever dreamed of. He had conquered lands, brought riches to Kattegat, and solidified his reputation as a formidable leader.
But it wasn't just his conquests that defined his success; it was the growing family he had built with (Y/N) by his side. Their firstborn, Arvid, had been a source of immense pride for Ivar, carrying the weight of being the heir to the throne. Following Arvid, twin boys named Audun and Axel had joined their family.
Their blessings continued with the birth of a daughter, Astride, who brought a new kind of joy into their lives. And after Astride, more sons had followed: Ase, Bodil, Dane, Ebbe, Eir, and Inge, each one a testament to the love and connection between Ivar and (Y/N).
Now, with the passage of time, the couple found themselves on the brink of another exciting chapter in their lives. (Y/N) was expecting once more, and this time, they had received the news that they were to welcome another set of twins into their growing family.
The prospect of more children filled Ivar with a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had not only achieved great success in his endeavors but had also created a legacy that would continue to shape the future of Kattegat for generations to come. With (Y/N) by his side, he looked forward to the challenges and joys that lay ahead, knowing that their love and the family they had built together were the greatest treasures of all.
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gwen-novella · 1 year
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Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet
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Pairing: Ivar x female reader
Word count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n
Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.
Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.
Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 
The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 
The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 
Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.
When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.
Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 
You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 
"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 
"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."
Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 
Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 
He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.
Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 
"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 
If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 
If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.
The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 
"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 
You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 
Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 
Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.
In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.
Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.
You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 
"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 
Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding Kink
Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 
Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."
Trust Kink (?)
Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 
As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 
As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hurting you.
Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.
Sharing.
Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."
Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.
His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 
"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 
Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 
It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 
That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.
As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.
You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 
"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 
When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."
"I do not."
Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 
As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.
As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 
"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"
Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."
To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
To quote TPAW:
"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 
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Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)
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Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!
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Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.
She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.
When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.
“We can still fight dear”
“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”
“What if they kill you?”
“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”
Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.
Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.
“Promise me you will come back to me”
“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”
-
(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.
(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.
“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”
“Who are you?”
“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”
The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.
“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”
The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.
“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”
Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.
To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.
“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”
“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”
Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.
Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.
(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.
“Lead the way, my lord”
She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.
“Welcome to Kattegat princess”
He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.
(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.
Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.
Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.
“So what brings you here princess?”
“War I am afraid”
“War?”
“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”
“So you ran?”
“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”
Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.
“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”
“How did you respond?”
“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”
“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”
“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”
“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”
“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”
“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”
“Definitely”
“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”
She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.
Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.
“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”
He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?
There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.
“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”
“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”
“Ride?”
“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”
“You mean I go up in that?”
“Hey, she is a lady”
Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.
As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.
“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”
“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”
“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”
“She sounds like a lovely woman”
“She was”
(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.
Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.
“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”
“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”
They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.
“This feels strange”
“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”
“Me neither”
She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.
With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.
“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”
“What?”
“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”
Requests are open!
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barnes-lothbrok · 1 year
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Tattoos
Ivar x Reader
Summary- As Ivar sleeps, his wife admires his tattoos
Warnings- fluff, implied smut?
Words - 600
Mon coeur = My heart
°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°
The room was lit by a cosy orange glow from the fire in the heath that was always burning.
From the moonlight peaking through the window, it was clearly late but how late you didn't know.
Your slumber had been disturbed but there was no sign of a threat or something to have clearly woken you, as your husband slept soundly on his back, one arm resting by his head and the other loosely draped over your waist.
Maybe it was the warmth of the room that had woken you as the thick furs that were normally wrapped around you were discarded on the floor. The only furs left were the ones draped over Ivar's legs leaving his torso exposed in the warm glow. 
You admired how the ink on his chest looked in the light and began absentmindedly tracing the intricate patterns with featherlight touches. 
Smiling to yourself, you watched as the muscles of his chest would twitch lightly as your fingers tiptoed across. Glancing up every so often, you noticed how he was still in deep sleep while his body responded to your touches. 
He looked so peaceful as he slept, the heavy weight he carried around was lifted, leaving his features soft. Over the years of your marriage, you noticed his sleep became heavier and longer. For he trusted you completely, only showing his vulnerable and sweet side to you. 
To the rest of the world he was cruel, ill- tempted and feared by many but with you, his wife, he was sweet and loving in his own way. It had taken a long few years for him to completely drop his guard around you but once he did it was beautiful. 
As you reached the tattoo extending along his side, a warm hand suddenly snatched yours away.  
"That tickles, my love" his voice was heavy from sleep as he squeezed your side.
"Sorry, mon coeur" you murmured as you had not meant to wake him and gently placed a kiss on his inked shoulder. 
He hummed in response as you rested your head on his shoulder, tracing the tattoos patterns with your eyes, while his breathing evened out again. 
"I do love you tattoos" you kissed his shoulder once more as he rumbled a soft chuckle.
"Not 'devil's markings', huh?" He quoted from the first time the pair of you had met. 
It hadn't exactly been wedded bless from the beginning. 
"No" you blushed, remembering how you screamed at your father, that you would never be happy with a heathen covered in the devil's markings.
At the time you didn't know Ivar had them but assumed he did as stories had been told of the brutal warriors covered in ink and some of the company around him had them on their face and heads.
His fingers gently played your hair as you played with his fingers on the other hand.
"I'm thinking of getting one," you announced, causing him to stop his movements "right here" 
You gently placed your thigh over his hips and pointed to the side, running your hand over your night dress to indicate where you meant. 
"Is that so?" He smirked as his hand slipped under the thin fabric and pulled it over to expose the bare skin. 
"Uh huh" you hummed as you watched his intense blue eyes scan over your leg.
"Only if I can watch them mark that perfect skin of yours" He muttered into your hair as he kissed your forehead.
"We might just make a viking out of you, yet." He teased with pride as his thumb caressed your thigh. 
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lavender-romancer · 2 years
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Bruised
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader
Ivar loves war more than you
CW: arguments, swearing, slight smut and submissive Ivar, anger, aggression
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”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
Even though he was your betrothed, you knew that you'd always be second best in Ivar's head and you just had to accept it. Whilst you had no say over the marriage there was no use being bitter, he was obsessed with war and blood. You yourself were also a warrior but you were pregnant and couldn't risk the date of their heir in such a careless way but, Ivar didn't share your anxiety towards death. He only thought of Valhalla, his obsession with becoming a warrior and dying noble and brave was taking its toll on you and you didn't know how to tell him it was happening because of him.
"I made some beautiful kills today, my love." Ivar grinned as he came into your quarters, you were laid back on the pillows cradling your ever growing stomach bump.
He was covered in blood, hadn't even spared a moment to wipe his face and you hated how attractive you found him in this high-testosterone state. Ivar was way too excited to realise how clean your night dress was as he lay a hand over your stomach and just smiled up at you. His sweet face sending a warm feeling to your stomach because you knew he was home safe, at least for now.
"Be careful, my love. No pressing, I think she's sleeping." You put your hand on top of his gently.
"Ah, she will be a strong girl like her mother with more need for sleep than the normal person!" He joked and you slapped him on the head lightly with a laugh.
"No matter how excited you are you always find time to discuss my sleeping habits don't you, dearest?" You raised an eyebrow and Ivar giggled. He climbed up onto your bed and thrust off his tunic that was spattered with blood on the sleeves. He grabbed a cloth from beside the bed and cleaned his face, seeming to have woken up from all the excitement and realising how clean you were.
"I'll always be happy to discuss how much sleep you require, plus making a little bit of fun toward you is always my favourite pastime." Ivar leant on your breasts, holding the other in his hand as you stroked his hair.
"Someone's comfortable, hmm?" You asked and he hummed a yes into your chest, enjoying himself a bit too much.
"Pregnancy has made these bigger, I'll have to get you pregnant again so I can enjoy it once more." He kissed both your breasts and then your lips as you hit him on the head again.
"You're a dirty man, my betrothed. Not even married me and already filled me with a child." You looked down at him lovingly, your anxiety calmed as soon as he walked in the door and you knew it wasn't healthy for the baby but you didn't know what you'd do if he was seriously hurt.
"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.
"Don't leave me again, okay?" You held him close to you and squashed him against your body and closed your eyes.
"You know I can't agree to that." Ivar whispered and you sighed, not saying anything else "Y/n, you knew what I was when you accepted my proposal. I am a Ragnarsson, I am born to do this and have a right."
You still said nothing and you knew the child growing in you made your emotions go into a concentrated form whenever you felt something but you couldn't deal with it anymore. You pushed him away from you and turned over in bed, hugging yourself and staying silent.
"Y/n, please." Ivar sounded desperate but you couldn't see his blood spattered body right now, you couldn't deal with the reminder that Ivar would be gone by the morning.
Ivar sighed and turned over, back to you as he slowly went into a deep sleep. You sat up and lit a candle by your bed, you started circling your hand over your stomach.
"You're going to be perfect, and no one will ever hurt you. You're going to stay with me and learn new languages and arithmetic and how to govern. I don't know if you'll meet your father, but I will always be here to keep you safe, little one." You were whispering but Ivar heard every word and it sent a pang of pain to his stomach, he felt too unwillingly guilty.
Ivar craved war, he craved death by battle and yet he wanted you and wanted to be with you constantly. He wanted a lazy morning with you, massaging your aching back and falling asleep on your chest. Ivar wanted to kiss you, he wanted to kill, he wanted to give you love but he needed to vanquish all who dared test him and his rule.
You were smiling down at your stomach, imagining when he or she would be in your arms after however long and hard the birth would be. It would all be worth it to hold their delicate little body in your arms and feel that connection that you had felt immediately with Ivar. You missed that immediate connection you made with Ivar, you knew that you already had it with this baby even though they weren't here yet. The moment you'd met Ivar you knew you had to speak to him more, you had to find out everything about him and couldn't sleep without thinking of him. Even though he didn't seem to want you anymore you still craved him and conversations with him, your love for your betrothed was unmistakable and unmatched. Until this baby was born there was no one you loved more than Ivar.
Ivar suddenly turned over and sat up next to you, it made you jump slightly but his next movements were slow. He shuffled over and leant his head on your shoulder, laying a hand over yours on your stomach and gripping it. He kissed your shoulder and stayed quiet, just holding you and your stomach gently showing his affection through touch. Ivar had never been good with words when it came to gentleness or affection, he was so much better at physical representations of it.
"I'm sorry." Ivar whispered and you leant your head on his.
"It's okay, angel." You kissed the top of his head and he turned his face to look at yours with tears in his eyes.
The blood still clung to his cheeks and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable next to you that you struggled to not take him into your arms and never let him leave. But you knew you couldn't control him and you couldn't make him stay.
"I'm not good for you, I just cause you stress and I… I just can't fucking say what I want to and I just- fuck," he paused "I love you. I love you so much and fuck I just loose all my words when it's only you with me. I'm so enchanted by you, my love."
"We both know you're not always the best with words but you have your moments. That was lovely." You smiled softly and leant forward till you were nose to nose with Ivar.
"You're just trying to make me laugh now." Ivar smirked and you blushed, unable to hide your intentions. You loved seeing him smile.
"Yeah and so what?" You slowly kissed him and Ivar held your face with one hand and kept the other hand on your stomach.
"I will never let anything bad happen to either of you," Ivar said quietly as you drew apart and rested your foreheads together "You are my world, my night sky full of stars, my sea full of creatures, my reason for being. I have never cared for a person the way I care for you, never take my need for war as a dismissal of you and your feelings."
You closed your eyes and wiped your eyes, unable to control your emotions and how your hormones amplified everything. You missed him so much day to day that moments like these were so treasured.
"Don't cry, my love. You are brave and so am I, I will never die because the Gods do not want it. The Seer told me so." Ivar stroked your cheek.
"I do not cry for myself or for you, I cry for our unborn child. What if they never meet you? What if they never know your care or your love?" You pulled away from Ivar a bit and wiped your eyes and your nose again.
"I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar and Aslaug, I was cursed at birth to live a life of suffering and hopelessness and yet I am King. I am unmistakably the ruler of Kattegat and respected by kingdoms str thing across our great lands. Our child will be blood of my blood, they will be as battle hungry as me and as respected as I. Regardless of their troubles they will feel our love, they will know their importance in this world." Ivar held your face in both of his hands and you smiled at him before kissing his cheeks one by one.
"They will be your blood and better for it. I just long for you, it's selfish and I know it is but I can't help my need for you." You looked longingly into Ivar's eyes and another sharp pain hit Ivar's stomach as he thought about you missing him.
"I just wish you could turn your mind off whilst I am away, that you could separate your anxiety from your general thoughts because I will always come back to you." Ivar whispered, leaning the side of his head against the headboard.
"If only I could believe you." You smiled sadly and Ivar looked away from your eyeline, he was ashamed.
"I cannot give you guarantees. I know that that isn't good enough and I know that you need more than that but this is who I am. Maybe it's healthier for both of us to have more realistic opinions of each other at least for now." Ivar looked at you sympathetically and you hated it, like you were some cooped up lover who couldn't stand up for themselves.
"So I can't expect you to be better? I can't want you to be more supportive and more present in our relationship and your relationship with this baby? What about when they're born and you won't even be there? They won't even know their father!" You yelled, your face getting hot with anger and frustration.
"Oh for fuck, this is ridiculous! You knew who I fucking was! You knew and yet you still carried on. You knew you could get pregnant, you knew we'd get married and yet you just fucking expect something else from me!" Ivar screamed back and your eyes started welling up, you stood up and walked away from the bed, back facing him.
"I don't want to see you when I wake up. Don't fucking come back for all I care, if you love war more than me and your child then what the fuck are you even doing here." You said in a calm voice, not willing to let him see you cry.
"Maybe I fucking will, maybe I'll be fucking dead tommorow! You'd love that wouldn't you, fucking slut making me get you pregnant so you could hold all this shit on me!" He yelled it with so much malice you had to grit your teeth together behind your closed mouth, holding back so much aggression because you couldn't fight him and keep your baby safe.
"You're a fucking bastard, Ivar. Stop acting like I'm a whore! I'm no thrall, I'm not one of you little one night stands who doesn't deserve anything from you, my king. I'm a fucking Princess in my own right, I owe you nothing! We both knew I could get pregnant and we both knew we would be married if it happened. You said you loved me, you fucking said it first you… you fucking…" you trailed off, unable to finish because your head was so scrambled. What was he saying?
"You're not worth the breath I used to shout at you, so what if I said it first?! You fucking entrapped me! You made me love you with all your treatment of me and stupid fucking affection. Of course I had to get out and go to war because you were turning me into something I wasn't!" Ivar yelled his eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed in an anger induced state. You turned around to face him
"Yeah that's right. I made you fall for me. Just like how I made myself love you, listen to yourself, Ivar. You're not thinking straight, I thought you loved this child? I thought you loved this relationship but God, what are we anymore?" You let a tear drop down your cheek as you held your stomach with one hand and your back with the other. You wished your baby was big enough to start kicking so you didn't feel so alone.
Ivars' expression changed, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes softened as he realised what he'd said and what he couldn't take back. He knew what he'd done, he knew he'd disregarded your own sacrifices and disrespected you repeatedly. You were carrying his fucking child and yet he couldn't offer you even an ounce of respect. He asked too much of you, he would leave you for weeks at a time and only send letters every now and then. Before you were pregnant he would send you letters and send for you like a dog because he missed your touch and your kind words and now…now you were standing in front of him tears streaming holding your child in your hand.
Ivar crawled forward on the bed and three his legs around to be hanging off the side. He held out his hand to you and you took it with the hand holding your back. Ivar would give you the fucking moon if he had too, to win back your trust because he didn't mean any of it. He just missed your presence, your love and your affection that he had cursed you for not so long ago. As you stepped closer to him you went in-between his legs that had fallen apart, he leant his head gently on your stomach with the side of his face and stroked your stomach with his hand.
This unexpected tenderness made you well up, you had to look up to stop yourself from sobbing because you had missed this so much it hurt. Placing a hand on his head you stroked his hair gently and Ivar closed his eyes, taking in your scent and how in love with you he really was. He was so undeserving of love in his own opinion that he pushed it away without a moment's thought toward the consequences of his harsh words.
"I'm so sorry. I will be better, I will do better, I will be better." Ivar sounded like he was crying and you snaked your hand round to be under his chin, slowly lifting it up and seeing tears in his eyes.
He looked up at you with tearful puppy dog eyes and you fell in love with him all over again. You wanted to slap him, tell him he was a cunt for talking to you that way but violence wouldn't help anything so you just stroke his cheek with your thumb as you hand held his face. Ivar put his arms around your legs and hugged you close to him before kissing your bump.
"I don't understand why you treat me the way you do, but fuck…I know you love me. You have to be better, I can't take it especially when stress can impact the baby. I just can't do it anymore." You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and went back to looking at Ivar who had started sobbing and then dropped to the floor his legs apart as he dragged himself to bend his knees. You tried to help him up but he stopped you, holding your skirts he looked up at you with wet eyes.
"I beg for your forgiveness, I beg for your love, I beg for you to be my wife. I will fucking beg and keep myself in pain for as long as is necessary because I can't loose you." Ivar let out a sob and you couldn't help but let your mouth open slightly. He had never shown such vulnerability, such willingness to change. The King was on his knees begging for you to be his. You knelt down in front of him and took his face in your hands, kissing him softly and tasting salt mixed with copper and ale. It was quite a horrific mix on your tongue but you didn't care, you needed to be close to him.
Ivar put a hand on your ass and pulled you closer to him as one of your hands went round his neck and put pressure on both sides slightly. You'd learnt pretty quickly in your sexual relationship that Ivar didn't always enjoy being in control and loved submitting. It wasn't an overtly sexual interaction more of a powerplay, he knew that you were in charge and let you do whatever you wanted. You began to kiss his neck softly as he whimpered near your ear.
"I fucking love you." He whispered to you and you choked him harder, his head rolling backwards as he moaned.
"I know you do, Angel," You licked the lobe of his ear and heard his breath shudder slightly. "If you ever talk to me like that again, I will never touch you like this ever again." You withdrew your touch from him and he nodded, you slapped him and raised your eyebrow.
"Y-yes I understand." He whispered looking up at you adoringly and you smiled.
Helping him get his knees out of the uncomfortable position and be straight out in front of him you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead "I love you." He told you and you believed him, he trusted you so deeply.
"Now come here." You gently pulled his head to lean on your chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and started crying softly, you could tell how remorseful he felt and how much he regretted what he had done.
"I'm staying with you tomorrow." Ivar whispered against your breasts and you smiled, stroking his hair slowly.
”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
AN: I'm very happy to do more Ivar imagines if anyone wants any. I haven't written Vikings in like three years but still adore it xx
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underscorewriting · 1 year
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Taking Care…
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader
Warnings: none, maybe a tiny bit of angst?
Words: 844
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A comfortable silence surrounded them as they watched the fire burn. Her fingers softly combing through his dark hair, making his eyes closed in satisfaction. Chuckling softly she watched him, watching how his lashes barely brushed his cheeks, how his mouth held the smallest smile, barely visible but still there. A low disproving hum escaped him as she stopped brushing through his, letting her hand just rest on top of his hair, feeling for any remaining braids she couldn't see in the light.
Opening one eye, he shot her a glare making her try to hide her giggle, placing one hand over his eyes, shushing him. Smiling softly he leaned back into her, letting her continue her work. Humming a soft tune she concentrated back on his hair, making sure it wasn't knotted anymore, before rinsing it with water again, watching the last of blood wash out of it. Biting her lip in worry of it being his own, she again thread her fingers through his hair, carefully feeling for any sign of a wound.
Softly taking her hand that was covering his eyes he brought it down to his mouth, kissing her palm lovingly, calming her nerves slightly making her sigh in relief. She was used to treating his wounds, but the ones on his head still worried her the most, not knowing what it could cause to the parts she didn't see. Still placing soft, featherly kisses on her palm and each of her finger tips, the young man couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, leaning into her touch, letting her take care of him.
They both barely said a word when he came back, just needing to feel each other close. Needing to be in the safe haven they created with one another. Tugging on his hair, she grinned down at him with a glimmer of mischievous in her eyes as his own fluttered open to find hers, his heart melting at the sight in front of him. His lover looking down at him with the most truest admiration, her lips pulled into a grin as she tugged on his hair to get his attention, not wanting to break the oh so comforting silence.
Raising an eyebrow he felt his own lips pull into a small smile. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in their as she made her way to his lips. Leaving tingles in their wakening, making the young king shiver slightly under her touch. As her lips finally reached his, he couldn't contain himself as he cupped the back of her neck, pulling he closer, deepening the kiss. Soft gasps slipped out of her mouth making him catch them with the kiss, smirking softly.
With heaving chests, Ivar let his hand slip onto her cheek, caressing the skin softly, making her smile tenderly at him. Her eyes held love. The love he never thought he'd receive. The love he knew was shining even brighter in his own eyes when he looked at her.
"I was so scared, Ivar." Her hand softly playing with his hair, not having the strength to find his eyes anymore. Showing weakness was something so fragile, they both still weren't sure wether it was alright for them to be so open about their fears. Ivars eyes softened as he heaved himself into the position opposite her, taking her hands. "Whatever for?" Worry settled on his features as her eyes welled with tears. Shaking her head she realized how hideous her fear was. He was Ivar the boneless, nothing could or would be able to hurt him. He was protected by the gods.
But as the months went on her fear started to settle in, more reason flooded her mind. What if the gods suddenly stopped protecting him, making him vincible, easier to hurt. More months passed and the fear was causing her many sleepless nights, making her visit the seer almost daily, slowly starting to obsess over her husbands wellbeing. Ivar was fragile, he wouldn't admit it but he was and she knew it. The whites in his eyes turning blue, his bones breaking, being her biggest fear.
A small tear slipped down her as she turned her head away from him. "You need someone strong, I shouldn't worry." Chuckling softly he pulled her onto his lap, being careful enough not to put too much weight on his legs. “What I need is for my wife to worry about me when I’m gone for battle.” His fingers now drawing small shapes softly on the outside of her thighs. A small smile now finds its way onto her face as she nuzzled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent, calming herself.
Smiling to himself Ivar began running his hair through her tangled hair, an evidence that she, again, was spending more time taking care of him and his needs than tending to her own. Placing a featherly kiss onto the top of her hair, he hushed her quietly, stopping her thoughts from torturing her.
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crowwritesaway · 10 months
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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
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“I don’t understand how you put up with them.” Ivar told you, clenching his fists.
“I know right.” You replied, smiling. One dinner and they have him gripping his hair.
“They’re lucky you’re their daughter.” He groaned, rolling his eyes. “How can they just speak over you. They don’t even try to listen to you.”
You nodded, crossing her arms. “They’ve always been like that. It’s their way or nothing.”
Ivar tilted his head, his eyes focusing on her. “The person I know doesn’t let anyone push her around.” “Yeah, that’s the one you know outside of this realm of chaos.”
“If only I could let you see what’s inside my mind. It would be so much easier.” She mumbled, looking at the ground. “I-I don’t bother opening up for a reason…well..reasons.”
Ivar exhaled, he was trying to control himself from marching back into her family’s house. They’re gonna pay. I’ll make sure. He swore.
“I’m here for you. Even if you don’t want to talk or if you feel like there’s no words to describe how you feel, my arms are open.” Ivar told her, moving closer to her. She looked up at him.
“I appreciate that.” She smiled softly, grasping his hand. He squeezed her hand, trying to comfort her.
“You can move in with me. I’m sure mother will understand.” Ivar told her, grinning at the idea of living with her.
She thought about it. How? As if my family would ever allow that. She bit her lip. But to finally be away from the continuous conflicts. I could finally be released from the place that once felt like a home.
She sighed. In a another life, maybe.
“I wish. But I feel bad leaving them. As much as I hate…I can’t. I owe it to them.” She mumbled, looking away from him. She didn’t want to see his reaction.
He stared at her. He opened his mouth but closed it. No, I’m not like them. “Okay. When you’re ready or when you want to get away, let me know. I’ll make the arrangements and get you away from them.” She has a choice with me.
She hugged him, surprising him. She wasn’t a hugger. Ivar hugged her back. “Whatever it is, don’t feel guilty about messaging me or calling me.” He mumbled, laying his head on her neck.
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Unexpected
Summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected.
Beginning Notes: Inspiration hit me suddenly and I had to write this. It’s from Ivar’s POV entirely, but still a reader insert. Reader is non-descriptive apart from she/her pronouns and female body.
I'm actually so proud of myself for this one. Idk where it came from, but i think it turned out pretty decent for smut.
Warning: smut, very NSFW and a little kinky
Pairing: Ivar x reader
Taglist: @bragisrunes, @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, @alicedopey
Masterlist | Part 2 | requests are OPEN!
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She’s driving him insane. This new slave from gods-know-where, always in the hall when he is, as if he wouldn’t notice the glances she steals at him.
Does she stare because he is a cripple? Because the other thralls are afraid of him and he hasn’t hurt her, yet? Or are there rumors about him from where she was taken from?
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that all his brothers don’t take him seriously when he mentions her – to them, she’s like a mouse, scurrying around underfoot, never to be noticed. Innocent like a fucking Christian.
Maybe to the eyes of others, she’s invisible, but she’s a pain to Ivar. No matter where he goes, she’s always there, whether that is actually or just in his thoughts. She’s a plague.
He can fuck her if he wants, not only because he’s a prince, but also because she is a slave. A nobody, who still stares at him. Why does it bother him so much when she does it? People have always stared at him and yet…
At least now, the hall is empty. It’s late evening, and his brothers are all occupied with lovers and wives, his mother is asleep, and most of the thralls are sleeping. Except her of course. She’s still in the hall, scrubbing away on the floor so dutifully, kneeling only a few steps away. Her eyes still flicker to him from time to time.
With a few irregular steps and muted thumps from his crutch, he stands in front of her. She pretends not to notice him, and Ivar finds it infuriating. Quickly, he grabs her jaw, tilting her face up until she’s facing him. To his surprise, there’s no fear in her eyes, she only looks momentarily startled.
“Can I help you, my prince?” she asks, and Ivar swears by all the Gods that if he has to look at her staring up at him innocently like that for one second longer, he’ll throw up on the floor she just cleaned.
“Go to my room.” He replies instead, and she gets up, gathers her skirt and walks there without question or protest.
He follows her slowly. By the time he gets to his room, she stands in the middle of it, careful not to touch any of his belongings and Ivar is glad that, for once, she looks unsure and out of place.
“Take off your dress. It’s dirty.” He says. She does as she’s told, taking her time with removing her apron and folding it, before making to move on to the dress.
“Aren’t you going to protest?” Ivar asks, surprised that she doesn’t look the least bit disgusted by him. Not like Margrethe.
“Would you like me to?” she deadpans, but Ivar thinks that he can hear a bit of snark in her voice. It almost makes him smile, until he remembers that he is a prince, and she’s a thrall.
“Get on with it.” Ivar commands.
She shrugs off her dress and shift until she’s bare in front of him, and all Ivar does is stare. Still, she stays still.
Not a christian then. Or at least not a very strict one. Ivar thinks.
“Lie down on the bed.” Ivar continues, and he’s angry that she seems surer in what she’s doing than he is, even though she isn’t doing anything but following his commands.
For a moment, he can glimpse a change in her. For a second, she looks almost excited, and not at all scared, before her face reverts back to a stony expression.
Ivar pulls himself onto the bed, and only when he’s lying right next to her does he realize that he has no idea what he’s doing.
He makes a strangled noise, one that sounds like a dying animal at a sacrifice, and Ivar is ready to take his knife and hold it against her throat when she leans over him and kisses him. For a moment, Ivar freezes, before he slaps her. Not hard, and not because he wanted to, but more because he didn’t expect this.
There’s a short pause, and then she gives a moan. It’s quiet and short but Ivar knows what it is nonetheless. He tells himself that it has nothing to do with the slap, that the moan was too disconnected, but then he looks into her eyes and blown out pupils are looking back at him.
“You liked that?” Ivar asks incredulously. For the first time, she looks a bit flustered. Then, she nods slowly. Ivar sits up, leaning against the headboard. Years of pulling himself across the floor come in handy and he grabs her by the hips, pulling her on top of his.
“Kiss me again.” He demands. She leans down, and Ivar reciprocates the kiss this time, a hand snaking to her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek, before he brings it down in a light slap again. She moans a little louder this time, beginning to grind down on him. There’s no shame in her.
“You like pain?” Ivar asks, not sure if she’s even real at this point.
“Don’t you?” she replies. He does, he supposes. Not being on the receiving end but inflicting it.
“You’re fucked up.” Ivar manages. She gives him a look that says And you aren’t?
To his surprise, Ivar begins to like her. Now that she isn’t pretending to be a ‘saint’, her company isn’t all that bad.
“What else do you like?” Ivar blurts out, before he can stop himself. A sly grin worms itself onto her face as she stretches out on his bed, as if it belongs to her.
“Let’s see.” She says. “Being manhandled. Spanking, scratching, choking-“
“Choking?” Ivar interrupts.
“Well as long as it’s not life threatening.” She shrugs. Ivar rolls over, until he’s hovering over her, and captures her lips in a kiss. Unsure, and strangly unwilling to hurt her, he begins to slide a hand down to her neck. He squeezes only a little bit, opening his eyes to make sure that she isn’t panicking.
It annoys him that she isn’t bothered by him at all, so he squeezes a little harder, until her eyes slowly open. He makes eye contact with her, and almost wishes he hadn’t, because there isn’t a trace of fear in her eyes, but the lust makes her look almost maniacal.
And then Ivar realizes that he wants to fuck her. Wanted to all along, all while she was pretending to be innocent and quiet. Not like he wanted to fuck Margrethe. This hasn’t gotten anything to do with proving something to his brothers. He wants to hold her down and fuck her into the mattress until her eyes roll back and-
She’s wriggling downwards under him, sucking on his neck and collarbones, and Ivar grabs her by the neck to push her down. She smiles at him, because she has to be insane, right?
“I need to catch my breath.” Ivar lies. What he needs is time to think. It’s obvious that she’ll enjoy most of the things he wants to do to her, and that she’s interested in him. He has to make a choice.
She lies her head down on his chest, fingers trailing down his still-clothed stomach slowly, and panic lurches in Ivar’s throat. She had to know about the rumors. Was this it? Was she Sigurd’s pet, trying to embarrass him even further for being boneless?
But then, Ivar realizes that he’s okay. It’s all going the way it’s supposed to, now he only has to get Sigurd off his mind.
The thrall is keeping herself busy, kissing down his body. Ivar wonders if she’s in love with him, or just doing this because she wants to have sex. He tells himself that he doesn’t care, but a tiny part of him wants her to love him.
Angry again, Ivar grabs a fistful of her hair and puts her where he wants her. She’s barely able to pull down his pants enough before she gives a muffled moan, taking him into her mouth. It’s almost as if she’s trying to worship him, the way she trails her tongue along his cock, before engulfing it until she gags. Ivar pushes her head down carelessly, but she doesn’t seem to mind, on the contrary, it’s only egging her on.
He falls back against the pillows, muffling a moan. Ivar wants to laugh at the irony of it, her, worshipping a cripple. When he gets close, he pulls her up to him.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, and her voice sounds genuinely concerned. Ivar shook his head.
“Want to cum inside you.” He manages. She grins, wiping her mouth, before she kisses him again, insistently tugging at the hem of his shirt. He lets her pull it off reluctantly.
Her smile widens and it’s at the sight of him. She licks a stripe up his neck and Ivar thinks it’s going to be too much. Still, he’s coherent enough to stop her when she tries to pull down his pants as well.
“No.” he says. “My legs.”
She nods. “Okay, that’s fine. But I can’t believe you wanted to hide this from everyone. From me.”
“I’m not yours.” Ivar snarls. Was it hurt that flashed in her eyes?
“I know.” She says, running her hands up his chest. Ivar grabs her jaw harshly.
“Lie on your back.” He commands
She complies, looking up at him with doe eyes, but this time, he doesn’t mind. Ivar pushes into her slowly, and she moans like a whore. When he tells her, hissing the words into her ear, she moans again.
This feels right. Better than Margrethe, better than Ivar had imagined.
He picks up the pace, until he’s fucking her like he wanted to moments before – or was it hours? Barely, Ivar registers her nails digging into his back, scratching down to his waist, before coming up again without rhythm or pattern.
She keeps moaning, and Ivar leans down to kiss her, sloppily, hungrily, swallowing some of the noise she’s making. He’s on the verge of cumming, even if he doesn’t want to. He wants to keep going, but his hips speed up from their own accord, going faster, deeper. Her back starts arching up, so Ivar grabs her hips and presses them back down.
His mind is completely empty, all he knows is that this is good. It’s fucking perfect. Her moans reach a crescendo, and he feels her clench around him. Is she there?
He wants to ask her, so he can know if he made her feel good, but one look at her tells him that she wouldn’t answer if he could form the question in the first place.
Ivar feels it creeping up on him, but he keeps going, grabbing her neck with his left hand, right still on her hip. Then, finally, he can’t stop himself anymore and lets go.
Moments later, he collapses on top of her. He’s still inside her, and after a few seconds, she wraps her arms around him, holding him tightly. He pulls out, lying on his back. She gives a small whine, moving closer to him again. Why?
“Was that- was it good?” Ivar asks. He’s afraid of her answer. He knows his brothers are all good and Ivar wants to be better than them at something else than strategy.
“Yeah.” She sighs, and he notices that she’s still out of breath. “But I doubt I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. Or right now, sorry.”
Still, she leans up, trying to reach her apron without moving too much.
“What are you doing?” Ivar asks.
“I need to clean this up.” She replies, motioning to her legs. “It gets sticky after a while.”
Wordlessly, Ivar pushes her back into the bed and reaches for the rag next to his basin. He has another one anyway.
He cleans her up quietly. There’s dark bruises on her hips, shaped like his hands. She flinches a bit when he touches her clit, and he’s careful to be quick about it.
When Ivar lies back down next to her, she’s smiling. Her eyes are closed, and she could be sleeping.
“Never took you for the type to clean up after themselves.” She says.
He doesn’t say anything smart back. Instead, he asks her the biggest question on his mind.
“Why did you do this? Were you looking for a quick fuck, or did my brothers put you onto this? Or are you in love with me?” Ivar asks.
“In love with you?” she replies. Her voice sounds a bit shaky. “I’m not in love with you. I just thought you’d have the same taste as me.”
He hopes she’s lying. Please, Freya, let her be lying. Let someone love me. He prays before he can stop himself. Ivar isn’t sure if he’d even love her back, but it’s something he wants to be able to say about himself. That someone fell for him like that.
While he keeps mulling over her words, she moves closer to him again. Quickly, she’s falling asleep. He could punish her, for just assuming that she could sleep in his bed. He could, but instead, Ivar moves her to lie in his arms. He smiles to himself. Despite her words, she’s here right now, holding him.
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witchthewriter · 2 years
Text
◌ 𝐈𝐯𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬/𝐨 ◌
→ female reader, requests open ⛓
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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.
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istorkyou · 1 year
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The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)
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A Modern!Ivar x F Reader
Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+
Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.
Word Count - 1584
Note - This is the second fic I ever wrote and I’m not sure why I never posted it. I think I started writing The Arrangement not long after and kind of fell out of love with this one. Still, it’s been festering in my completed docs for well over a year so I figure I might as well post it 😬 It’s fluffy, and maybe a little cheesy (and by a little I mean a lot!) so if that’s your bag I hope you enjoy it!
Moodboard - The beautiful moodboard is made the magical, amazing @serasvictoria. Thank you so much xxxx
This was beta read by my aussie wife who has left Tumblr. All love, all the time Lou x
Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree @mymindfuckery
Masterpost
CHAPTER 15
Nine months of dating Ivar. Nine months of happiness. Nine months of amazing sex. Nine month of love.
The interest in your relationship publicly has definitely reduced, mostly because the pair of you don’t go anywhere the photographers would be. Ivar has adapted to your lifestyle easily and fits into your world perfectly. You still struggle sometimes fitting into his world, but you are getting better at the glitzy parties and rubbing shoulders with the extreme wealth in your city. You much prefer it when you guys do normal things together though.
You have become friends with his brothers, they were easily won over, especially Hvitserk. He and Iris have been on a few dates and he seems besotted with her. She likes him a lot but is being very ‘Iris’ about the whole thing and is playing it cool.
Ubbe is dating someone new and, aside from cracking a couple of jokes in the beginning, leading Ivar to threaten to murder him, in a seriously scary tone, your ‘thing’ is long forgotten.
Since the ball you haven’t seen too much of Aslaug, she has been away, staying in her house in Iceland for months.
She calls you the week she gets home and she comes to visit your shop.
You bond over your mutual love of fashion. She spends a long time looking through all the clothes you stock and buys some dresses and some jewellery.
“You have a really good eye, Y/N. A wonderfully eclectic mix of fashion in stock. Have you thought about expanding? Opening more boutiques across the city?” She asks curiously.
“I have, I am hoping to by the end of next summer, I just need to make sure the business plan is foolproof, find a space, blah blah! It will be a lot of work.”
“I can help, I am always looking to invest in small local businesses…” she trails off and raises her eyebrows.
“Aslaug, without wanting to sound ungrateful, because I really am grateful for the offer, I’ve got my heart set on doing it all by myself.” You give a determined look.
“Although, if you know anyone in real estate that can give me a heads up of any suitable spaces becoming available I will gladly take that help,” you give her a cheeky smile.
“It just so happens I do know some people who could help with that. I will get in touch with them,” she gives you a wink.
“Also, the jeweller who made the bracelet and necklace you bought could maybe use some help, she’s amazing but hasn’t managed to get herself a proper workshop. If you were interested? Her name is Sadie.” You hand Aslaug one of Sadies cards which she slips into her purse.
“You are a very determined young woman, Y/N. I can see why Ivar loves you so much. What time do you lock up the shop? We should go and get cocktails.”
“Yes! I bloody love a good cocktail, come back at 4pm?”
You think you might have finally cracked the cool exterior, Ivar will be so pleased and your heart swells.
—————
You wake up early on Christmas morning and throw on an oversized hoody, before Ivar is stirring and you grab the heavy present on the kitchen counter and head to the elevator.
It opens on the ground floor and you head in over to the reception desk.
“Preston, Happy Christmas!” You shout and laugh as he jumps out of his skin. You hand him over the present.
“What’s this?” He looks in disbelief.
“A pressie, open it!” You are so excited.
He opens the present to see a state of the art coffee machine and his face lights up.
“What? Why? You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.” His face is tinged with annoyance.
“Oh shush, you always look knackered, we thought you could use it,” you retort.
“Wow, thanks so much, I don’t know what to say.“ He holds his hands up.
“Just a gesture for putting up with Ivar’s rude ass for all these years! Are you going home to your family soon?”
“He��s not so rude anymore.” He tells you with a wink “I finish in 30 minutes,” he says happily. “Happy Christmas, Y/N, thank you.”
“Happy Christmas, have a great day. Hope the twins are happy with their bikes.” You give him a quick hug then head towards the elevator.
When it dings and the door opens Ivar is standing, with his arm above his head looking at the floor and his eyes travel up you until reaching your face and creasing with laughter.
“Will that never get old?!” You ask him in fake annoyance, he knows you find it adorable.
“Happy Christmas, baby! Did Preston like his present?” He asks, pulling you in for a big kiss.
“Yep, he was very happy,” you bury your face in his neck.
“Do you want your present?” Ivar asks with a cheeky smile on his face.
“Is it an orgasm?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Later,” he laughs out, “come on, it’s in the bedroom.”
“This is getting more interesting..” he looks back with a withering look.
“Get your mind out of my pants, filthy girl,” he wags a finger at you.
“Can I give you my present first? I’m so excited!” He laughs at you and nods.
You run to your side of the bed and pull out an envelope, skipping to him to hand it over. He opens the envelope and reads the Christmas card inside, smiling. He opens the card and two pieces of paper fall out. He picks them up with a furrowed brow, reading the words on them.
“Wha..what is this? Japan? You bought us tickets to travel to Japan?!” Pure disbelief on his face. He keeps looking back at the tickets and to you, clearly having trouble processing the information in front of him.
“What the fuck? This is too much, Y/N! We said small gifts.” His face is shocked.
“Meh, you are worth it. Are you ok? Do you want to go? I thought we could go and try some authentic sushi? Remember when I first came here?” You are searching his face for any sign of happiness.
“Y/N, this is too much. You can’t afford this.” His face still shows nothing but shock.
“I can baby, I wouldn’t have bought them if I couldn’t afford it, you know that. The shop has been doing amazing. Do you not want to go?” Your voice is small and dejected.
“Are you kidding me? It’s my number one place I want to visit! Oh my god I’m so excited, I'm just in shock, baby. Thank you! Thank you so much. I’ve never had a gift like this before.” He pulls you in for a crushing hug, kissing you all over your face and neck until you are swatting him away.
“Do you want to open your gift?” He asks excitedly.
He walks to his drawers and pulls out a big black box with a giant gold ribbon tied in bow. He hands it to you and sits close to you, watching your face intently as you undo the bow. You lift the lid on the black box and pull out a red box that you recognise. It’s one of Sadies.
You look at him and his face is so earnest you give him a kiss.
“Open it,” he urges you.
You open the box and inside is the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. It has three platinum chain mail chains twisted round each other all joined together with a diamond on each clasp. It has a round platinum pendant on it, around the edge there is an engraving and in the middle is a beautiful, green stone.
“Ivar……” you look up at him, your eyes misting up.
“I need to explain it!” He is like an excited puppy.
“I designed it, with a little help from Sadie. It’s platinum and diamonds on the clasps..” the look on his face is one of pure amusement, you can’t help but laugh at him despite wanting to act offended, a clear call back to the unwanted bracelet he gave you.
“The circle of the pendant represents my never ending love for you,” his face changes from amusement to seriousness.
“The engraving is the date I first laid eyes on you.” You bring it closer to your face to read it.
“The date of the merger party.” You tell him, with a big soppy smile on your face.
“And the green sapphire in the middle is the exact colour of the blazer you were wearing when we met. I knew from that very moment you were the one for me. Forever and always.”
You don't know what to say, your eyes well up with tears.
“Do you like it, Y/N?” He asks nervously.
“It’s the most beautiful, thoughtful present. I love it.” You wipe your tears of happiness and kiss him. “You can't tell me off for the gift I got you, this must have cost a fortune, Ivar,” he just shrugs and grins.
“I left a space on it for another engraving. I am going to get it engraved with the date I ask you to be my wife.” his voice is smaller than before and his face is red with a blush. You gasp at his words and pull him close for a cuddle.
“Just for future reference, I will say yes.
THE END - thanks for reading :)
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spidersnakes · 2 years
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Ivar x Reader (Forced Marriage)
A.N: Do you guys want another part or is this just a horrible oneshot made by my daddy issues?
Summary: Being Sigurd's wife, you were used to him arguing with his younger brother, but when things get too far, you somehow end up being forced to marry Ivar.
TW: Forced marriage (?), SA, curse words, violence, abuse, bit of spitting. Generally a lot of heavy stuff that a lot of people aren't comfortable with.
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You hated him. Absolutely. And you were sure he reciprocated the feeling, but his big fat ego and pride led you to this moment.
You had only bitten back a smile when Ivar and Sigurd were fighting, just after you had gotten married to the latter. It was a marriage of convinience for the both of you, knowing Sigurd wasn't at all interested in females and you wanted to escape the countless men thirsting after you.
Sigurd wasn't the easiest, but you had bonded with him throught your love for music. And next thing you knew, Ivar had grabbed you by the throat, a knife to your throat.
You were just a way for him to release his rage and grief. But when Sigurd spoke up and told him to leg you go, the usual snarky tone prominent in his voice it seemed to set the younger Viking off even more. Before your husband could laugh at his smart insult at his brother, prodding the matter that hurt him the most, he was laying at the floor motionless, his eyes empty of light and no sing of life in his limp body.
And so Ivar married you. He grieved Sigurd, you could see the regret and realisation in his eyes, but his stupid rage blinded him once again. You knew denying him would mean joining your friend, but a death like that would never get you in Valhalla.
Ivar paused, seeing you sitting on the bed already when he entered your bedroom. He closed the door behind him but by the time he turned around, you had gotten close to him, one hand grasping his tunic.
"What are you doing?" He took in a sharp breath, his eyes going back and forth on your hand and eyes.
"It's our marriage night, My Prince."
He hummed in acknowledgement at your statement, understanding the situation, but he still seemed confused. "Did my brother touch you?"
That made you pause. Being smart about it would only get him angry, you knew better than defend Sigurd right now. "Ivar, Sigurd was... not interested."
"Was that your fault?"
"My Prince, I think you are aware of what your brother's... preferences were. I think he wouldn't be interested in any woman." You stopped him before the conversation could progress, and your lips softly touched his only for a moment before you pulled away and locked your gazes.
He bit his bottom lip, seemingly aware that you didn't do this because you actually cared about him. He just wanted to believe you, and it made everything a lot easier.
He initiated another kiss, just as soft as the other one and let his hands rest on your waist and pull you into him. You almost forgot who he really was, meeting softness you could have never guessed this man was ever capable of. He was anxious everytime your lips parted, they wouldn't meet again even as his tongue entered your mouth and started to explore it.
You gripped the knife behind your back tighter, preparing to stab him. Albeit a Viking, you weren't a very good warrior, prefering to go on raids rarely and only to take care of people and get inspiration for your music. Stabbing Ivar like this... if you didn't succeed right away you would face horrible consequences. You barely missed his neck as he moved and lost his balance, landing right in top of you on the floor as the knife fell on some far away corner of the room.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" He yelled, his composure long lost. To think those soft kisses were only a lie so you could kill him... you weren't any better than him, you were not the prideful woman you presented yourself as, but a cunning, manipulative bitch.
"That's right. He wouldn't be interested in anybody with a smaller cock than his. And you don't even have one." He laughed, remembering your previous conversation. "You found your husband funny, no? You laughed at his last joke. I am your husband now, but you don't seem very amused."
"You are a bad joke, cripple." You muttered, titling your head to meet his eyes. The sadistic smile on his face didn't give it away, but you could see the anger behind his eyes.
They were so blue, so beautiful, but so cruel.
"Am I not man enough for you? Is that it? But my brother was?" He gritted his teeth as he pulled on your hair, forcing your head back. "Answer me."
You spat on his face, but he only wipped it off, amusement and hate prominent in his features. "You laughed when he called me impotent, perhaps I should show you otherwise. It is our wedding night after all, you said so yourself."
"Don't touch me--" He raised himself enough to flip you around under him, your face now against the furs on the floors.
"Or what? You will try to stab me? Who would justify your murder, just because I wanted to touch you on our wedding night?"
"Ivar-- Ivar please-!" You inhaled sharply, trying to contain the tears in your eyes as he ripped the back of your dress and pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass.
Ivar was shocked himself. He really did think he was impotent, he never lusted over a woman like his brothers, and the Margrethe incident didn't help his insecurities. So why did you, a woman that barely had any experience herself and tried to kill him have him hard because of a few kisses.
His wife, he reminded himself. He just wanted to scare you at first, but now he actually wanted-- needed to feel you. It felt like he knew what he was doing as he let his hand wander from your hair down your body and to your pussy, feeling the slightly wet area. He felt you shiver as he kissed your neck and slowly pushed two fingers inside you, the hands he had pinned on top of your head now struggling against his grip again.
"Unless you want me to finish inside you until I am sure you are bearing my heir, stop fighting against me, wife." Even he questioned his own actions. He could just use your velvety thighs, or just push himself inside you and be done with it.
So why was he, a man that detested you kissing your neck trying to get you wet and open you up, and savoring every little sound you tried so hard to bite back? It didn't make sense.
In reality, it hurt. Your wrists were sure to bruise from his grip, his teeth nibbling on your neck clumsily felt weird and your whole body hurt on the furs, his whole weigh holding you down. The tears you held back hurt the most of all, along with the sounds of pleasure fighting to escape you as his fingers moved inside you.
"Ivar..." You meant to insult him, but it only came out as a meowl of his name as he rubbed against you. You could feel his disgusting smirk against your neck at the clench of your walls around his fingers.
"If I didn't know any better I would say you are enjoying this." He groaned as you raised your hips in an attempt to roll him over and slammed you down, roughly biting your neck.
Your gasped in pain, your nails digging in his hands. He licked over the bite and took his fingers out of you to line himself up against you.
"Stop, stop please. Ivar, w-we can learn to get along and make this work, I know you didn't actually want to marry me because you care about me. Please don't do this." You begged him, but didn't dare to meet his gaze this time.
"Should have thought about that sooner princess." He mumbled and pushed himself inside you slowly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of your walls hugging perfectly around him.
"Y-You bastard!" You groaned and finally freed your arms and clenched the furs under you. He started moving slowly, testing the waters and you couldn't hold the tears in anymore. You let them run down, sniffling and whimpering more the harder and deeper he went.
His tongue sweeped across your cheek, wipping the salty liquid away from your face but that only made you cry harder. It hurt, but the fact it felt good and that Ivar was the one doing this were far wprse than the physical pain you were feeling.
"F-Fuck."He groaned m, his thrusts getting sloppy. You didn't even bother -or trust yourself- to plead him to pull out, the screams you held under your tears at the knot in your belly tightening would spill out right away if you tried to speak.
"Open your mouth." He panted, and seeing as you ignored his command he forced your jaw open and held your tongue down with two fingers. He spat in your mouth and closed it, watching you closely. "Swallow." You did as he said this time, gagging at the spit that went down your throat combined with all the crying.
"Do you want my seed?" He bit his bottom lip, he obviously knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear you.
"Ivar, no!" You screamed, and he pulled your head back. You hiccuped, shaking your head 'no'. He grabbed your hair and asked again, his hips rutting into you desperately.
"I don't care." He mumbled and thrust particularly hard inside you, sending jolts of pain and pleasure all over your body. Your own orgasm silently overtook you no matter how hard you tried to deny it, the feeling of your clit brushing against the fur and his warm seed filling you up send you over the edge.
He moved off of you and laid on his back next to you, confused by your reaction. He had passed countless warriors raping women, and every single one screamed and cried, and hit them, but you were quiet. He sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, meeting your tear stained face and puffy eyes.
You sniffled, shaking harder than before as you buried your face in his hand and leaned against the light touch. His breath hitched in his throat at the gesture. You didn't even seem to recognise that he was the one that hurt you. You just moved into him, desperately trying to hide in his embrace in an attempt to feel safe.
And against his better judgement, once more, he let you do whatever you want. Affection was something only his mother had ever showed him, and she wasn't the type to show it throught physical touch. He needed the soft touches, even though they felt foreign, the way his body tingled under your touch was more than enjoyable.
Strange how after he did something like this to you, he felt the need to protect you and take care of you. His guilt was nearly eating him alive while he watched you, passed out in his arms. How did the marriage he only agreed to out of spite and to end some rumors turn out like this?
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zapreportsblog · 7 months
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❝the shield maidens challenge❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test
✭ vikings masterlist
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The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.
It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.
But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.
As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.
"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."
Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"
A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."
The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.
For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.
And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.
She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."
A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."
(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."
"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."
Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.
"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.
And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."
Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."
Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."
His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."
A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.
"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."
Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."
With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.
As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.
The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.
Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.
"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."
A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."
And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.
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Please could I request Ivar with-
Person B washes person A's hair. 💕
Request Info
Gentle Hands
Contains:Fluff
306 words
Comment if you want to be tagged/removed
Ivar washes your hair
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The bath in Rollo's palace was insane. It would have fit ten people but right now, it was just you and Ivar. He had pulled you from your shared bedroom with a huge smile on his face, insisting that he show you something on another level of the building.
When you got to the room, he opened the door and the smell of herbs and steam hit you in the face full force, "it's been a long journey, wife, do you care for a bath?"
Now you were sitting behind him with his hands in your hair as he rubbed your scalp, "did you bring me here just to wash my hair?"
Ivar chuckled, "yes and no, we did need a wash but selfishly, I do love it when you allow me to do this."
You leaned back into his hands as he used a cup to rinse the sudsy wash away, then he combed through a mix of oils and fats with his hands, making sure that every strand was coated before spinning you around to talk to you while it sat for a while. "Do you think this will all go well?"
Ivar nodded, "of course, Rollo knows what we want, peace is the only way forward."
You smiled, "I think we should make a sacrifice when we return home, to thank the Gods for allowing our people to have a way to live the way your father wished."
Ivar smiled, "yes, good idea. Now let me finish your hair."
You turned back around and Ivar's fingers found your hair, washing out the thick cream the gentle affection. "I am excited to sleep in a bed after all that time at sea." Ivar smiled, resting his head back against the edge of the tub once your hair was done.
"That makes two of us."
Fin
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komotionlessqueenmm · 2 years
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Imagine # 1,014
Gifs NOT mine.
If either gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.
Gif credit goes to - @kikuthestrange & @lost-shoe (Unless told otherwise.)
Year posted - 2022
*Can you imagine Ivar juiced up on compound V, and the reason behind his name being Boneless, is due to his power either being he can contort his body in ways no human could, or perhaps he can stretch his body. I mean as a human Ivar is seriously dangerous, so imagine him as a fucking supe. Anyways I think I'm gonna write a short story about this, let me know what you think.
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barnes-lothbrok · 2 years
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Jealousy
Ivar x reader
Summary - Ivar and you have always had a bond, a closeness but over time and as you mature things change, Ivar gains feeling he can't explain
Warnings - angst, fluff, death of a parent, swears
Word count - 2k
This all started because of a gif set by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie and I sort of ran away with it
ווווווווווווווווווווווו×
You grow up alongside the sons of Ragnar.  Being the daughter of Aslaug's closest confidant, you were always in close proximity to the brothers during childhood. You were closest in age to Ivar having been born only a few months before and as you grew together, you formed a bond that no one could truly explain. 
You were the only one who wasn't terrified of him after the incident with the boy. As all the children in Kattegat would run away from him, making a game out of it, you were seen happily pulling his cart around, chatting away to him as you venture around the town taking him anywhere he wished to go.
On days where he was unable to play, you would sit with him and make up stories to keep him entertained, often acting out some of the scenes, bouncing around his room as you fought a dragon or giant sea monster. 
As time passed a few things changed, while he was being mentored by Floki, your mother had you learn the loom and the meaning of different herbs.
But you were never apart for long as on days when he was still busy you would run to Floki's cabin and wait for him. On days when you didn't meet Ivar, he would wait for you by the tree you'd claim as your own when you were younger, having craved IL + YN into the trunk.
You spent hours laying under the tree, side by side, watching as the sunset and the stars appeared twinkling between its branches. It was the place you shared your hopes and dreams with one another.
You wished to become a shield maiden, just like the legendary Lagertha, while Ivar dreamed of becoming a warrior, to be able to raid and fight along side his brothers. 
The afternoons and evenings spent under that tree was the first memory Ivar had of the flutter that appeared in his chest whenever he looked at you. You never laughed or mocked his desires, you simply listened and smiled at him. 
The first big change to your friendship was when Ivar spent the night with Margrethe. Everyone was aware of how she spent her time between the princes, of how she'd captured all of their gaze. She was extremely beautiful and you never missed the way, they all looked at her, especially Ivar. 
So one evening after having been invited to dinner and Aslaug had left the table, it was no surprise when his brothers tried to convince Ivar that Margrethe was the perfect option for him to lose his virginity. They spoke as if you were one of them. 
"I'm sure Y/N agrees" Hvitserk said, finishing a mouthful of pork "Right?" 
You looked between each of them from Hvitserk with his dopey expectant smile to Sigurd who peered from under his hair, gripping his cup a little too tight, he had always hated the idea of sharing with Ivar, and then to Ubbe who's smile dropped slightly as if he knew you didn't want to answer. 
"I mean, sure" You shrugged, looking down at your cup of ale, unable to even look at Ivar. If you had, you would have seen the light in his eyes fade a little. "The way you all speak of her, he would be a fool, not too" 
After that night and the rumours of Ivar being impotent spread, Ivar drew himself away from you, spending more time training with his brothers or at the blacksmiths. 
Your dream of becoming a shield maiden was put on hold when your mother became sick. A plague hit the town, taking your mother with it. Aslaug brought you in as a kindness for all the years your mother was by her side and treated you like a daughter she never had. She taught you many things a woman could be, beside being a shield maiden. 
On the day, Ivar took his first steps, you had been in the market when you noticed Ubbe and Hvitserk hanging around the blacksmiths. You made Hvitserk jump as you suddenly appeared between them.
"What are you doing?" You spoke loudly and close to his ear, causing him to almost choke on his apple. You were about to laugh until he pointed at two legs caged in metal on the floor. 
While grunting and groaning, Ivar heaved himself up. You wanted to rush forward and help him but Ubbe gently placed a hand on your shoulder. Taking small and wobbly steps, Ivar stood before your trio, a wide grin on his face.
"Ivar" you whispered, looking him up and down before grinning back "Ivar, you're walking!" You joyfully cried before barreling him into a hug and having to apologise profusely as you almost knocked him backwards. 
ווווווווווווווווווווווו×
It was after the return from their first raid, that Ivar noticed his brothers spending more time with you, getting closer than they did before. It seemed to grip his chest with an urge to hurt them or pull them away from you every time he saw it.
The summer away from you seemed to make the Lothbrok brothers notice how you had turned into a beautiful woman. No longer the messy haired bundle of energy that would play-fight with them or get drunk with them but a woman who held herself with elegance and grace. While they had been away, Aslaug had turned you into someone much like herself. 
Ivar first noticed Hvitserk being closer to you. The pair of you had been sparring, although their mother didn't approve, you would often join them in training when you were free to do so.
As you moved backwards, you stumbled over a small rock and while trying to catch you, Hvitserk's feet became tangled in your own. Crashing to the ground, Hvitserk arms were beside your head as he caught himself from squishing you. Your faces were inches apart as the hair falling out of his braid covered your faces like a curtain. 
Ivar didn't miss the way, you stared at each other, breaths caught before you burst out laughing when Hvitserk dropped his head and blew a wet raspberry on your cheek, causing you to squeal with laughter and push him away. 
The second was Sigurd. He nearly fell over when he walked into the hall and found you sitting on the floor in front of Sigurd. His arms were wrapped around you, from the chair above as he tried to teach you the strings to play a tune on the lyre. He'd been practicing for Ubbe and Torvi's wedding.
When he played it always sounded so beautiful but when you tried it sounded broken. 
"Sigurd, you make it looks so easy" you whined and tried again before you both cringed at the noise it made "nope, I'm leaving the music to you" 
"Probably best too, don't want to anger the gods at the wedding" He teased before surprisingly kissing your cheek. Sigurd had noticed Ivar watching and could help a smirk as he watched him leave before you looked to where Ivar had just been having missed him.
The third and final straw was Ubbe. Everyone was celebrating his marriage to Torvi. The hall was filled with music, laughter and drunken singing. It was late into the celebrations when he saw you speaking to Ubbe and Torvi. 
He'd been watching you most of the day as you walked around, looking like a goddess in your flower crown, with your hair loose. You'd laughed and spoken with many people but not him. He supposed that was his own doing as he pushed you further and further away but how he wished it was himself that you were laughing with. 
He watched over the rim of his cup as you took Ubbe's hand and began to dance. Sigurd and his band changed the music to a slower pace and Ubbe happily twirled you around, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Ivar could see you talking and smiling with each other. Ubbe said something to make you laugh, the melody echoed in Ivar's ears. 
He clenched his jaw, eyes trained on the pair of you before looking away as your eyes met his. When he looked back again, he felt his heart being squished as you kissed Ubbe's cheek. He slammed his cup down and angrily gathered his crutch. 
He couldn't watch anymore. Ubbe was married and he still had your affection, all of them did but him. Sure, he'd never seen anything more than kisses on the cheek but it was more than you had been giving him.
Ever since they returned, you didn't follow him around like you used to. In the past he would throw a tantrum and yet you would still be there the next day but now you seemed to be allowing him to keep the distance that he created and he didn't like it. 
He thought about going back in there and demanding you talk to him again, that's all he wanted, was for you to talk to him. 
That was a lie, he wanted so much more. He wanted to wake up beside you, kiss you, feel your touch. He wanted have celebrations like this for the pair of you. To have the life you promised each other under that stupid tree when you were too young and naive to understand the promises you were making.
You were meant to be his, you were always his and now you were slipping away with every passing day. 
He paused for a moment conflicted as to keep going or to turn around. If he kept going, he would have time to think but turning around meant he would get answers to satisfy the demons telling him, you hated him, that you couldn't love him, that you pitied him. 
As he turned around, he was taken aback by you coming out of the hall making your way towards him. "There you are" You smiled at him "where are you going? I was looking for you" 
"Well I'm right here, I have been all night. Not that you even care" Ivar's brow was creased, his eyes struggling to hide a burning anger. 
"Not care? Ivar, of course I care" you smiled didn't fade as you looked at him "I wouldn't have come to find you if I didn't, you donkey" 
"You have a funny way of showing it" he spat "Parading around all day. Laughing at any man's attention, even throwing yourself at the groom. It's embarrassing, like a dog in heat" 
"Throwing myself at the groom?" Your smile dropped and turned into a frown "I was congratulating Ubbe on the marriage to the woman he's loved for years. Every woman can offer the groom to dance, mine was tame compared to Greta's, which you would have seen if you hadn't stormed out" 
"I wasn't going to stay and watch you embarrass yourself any longer" he held his head high, looking down on you. 
"Embarrass myself? I was having fun. Which is more than I can say for you. Sitting in the corner of your brother's wedding, watching me with a face like someone pissed in your cup" you spat back. 
He was shocked by the fact you noticed him watching you. You always noticed those intense blue eyes on you. 
"Honestly, Ivar, I don't understand what I have done," you sighed "Ever since you got back, you have been this brooding, and sometimes cruel bastard. I have seen you like that to others but never to me" 
The way you said his name like it was laced with venom, hurt  "So tell me Ivar, what have I done?" 
His jaw clenched as he gripped his crutch harder. His demons were yelling at him to call you a whore, nothing more than someone to warm his brother's beds, that you only stuck around for the lifestyle his mother gifted you and that you'd do anything to keep it. 
But he stopped himself, as he looked at you, the expectant look on your face, the hurt in your eyes and the heavy raise and fall of your chest as if you were scared of what was going to come out of his mouth. He knew his anger could be vicious but never had it been directed at you before. 
"You make me feel…." He started before looking away from you "You make me feel," he quietly said, looking you in the eyes again "and I don't like it. I want it to stop. I don't know how to make it stop" 
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bluemargotrobbie · 3 months
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#BARBIE & #ALEX
En un universo representa a unos hermanos y en otro a una pareja, puede ser Aemma y Cregan o Ivar y Seren
AEMMA
📚: 𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 (publicado)
🖋: LunaticaBlack (wattpad)
🌎: HOTD
💌: Aemond, Aegon T& Cregan Stark
👤: Aemma Velaryon
MÁS ALLÁ DEL DESTINO
📚: 𝙈𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙇𝘼 𝘿𝙀𝙇 𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙊 (publicado)
🖋: Sol_Andersen93 (wattpad)
🌎: Vikings
💌: Ragnar Lothbrock & Bjorn Ironside
👤: Elizabeth
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