#Ivar the Boneless imagines
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
✭ 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
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.
#x reader#x reader one shot#x reader oneshot#ivar#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar x y/n#ivar lothbrok#vikings ivar#ivar x you#ivar ragnarsson#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar fanfic#vikings imagines#vikings imagine#vikings#vikings x reader#vikings x you#vikings x y/n
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In Love with a Monster
Ivar the Boneless x Reader
A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl
Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.
"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"
"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.
Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.
But having you marry a Viking?
He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.
He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.
And it was final.
You felt betrayed by your own father.
But what did you expect?
You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.
You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat.
Your life might as well end now.
But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.
To be married to a Viking monster.
---
Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.
He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.
Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.
---
As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug.
"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.
"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.
"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence.
You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.
You let out a sigh.
"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.
---
"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"
"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.
His mind was filled with you.
How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them.
Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.
You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.
His princess.
---
You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space.
You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.
You were terrified.
You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel.
And it is what you expected.
---
Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.
He could tell his brothers also had the same thought.
Soon, you will be his wife, only his.
He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.
You were his now.
His woman.
His wife.
His Princess.
His.
As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.
Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing.
You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.
You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him.
You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.
You were thankful he didn't force you.
---
This went on for a couple of days.
Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence.
And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off.
Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.
A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.
A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.
During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.
But not anymore.
Slowly but surely you were coming around.
You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.
Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall.
You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.
Sigurd smirked.
"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.
"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.
You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.
"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.
"Of course I do."
"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate.
You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.
But he was looking at you.
You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him.
And he was grateful.
He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing.
Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.
Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.
When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.
You were rather taken aback.
You have never seen him like this before.
You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft.
The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow.
You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.
You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.
He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.
Those strong arms.
You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.
"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.
"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.
Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.
And it did make you wonder.
He was surely not a monster.
"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious.
Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.
"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."
"What did he tell you?"
"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."
"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."
There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.
"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."
"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."
"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."
"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.
"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."
"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."
"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred."
"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."
"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."
"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.
"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."
"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"
"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."
"Even my legs?"
"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his.
You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.
He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist.
You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.
---
The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.
Then after just a second, the memories came back.
Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.
It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.
And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.
Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night.
And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.
You managed to fall in love with the monster.
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#ivar#ivar the boneless#vikings ivar#Ivar the Boneless x reader#Ivar the Boneless imagine#Ivar the Boneless imagines#Ivar ragnarsson#Ivar ragnarsson x reader#Ivar ragnarsson imagine#Ivar ragnarsson imagines#Ivar ragnarsson x you#vikings fanfiction#vikings modern au#vikings imagines#vikings imagine#vikings#vikings x reader#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar imagines
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Willow - Ivar the Boneless
Summary: Feast night in Kattegat, some pretty shameless flirting.
A/N: I haven't written vikings in forever but part of this was in my drafts from like, last year and I finally finished it this morning.
TS Anthology Masterlist | Vikings Masterlist
✰ wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark ✰
The lanterns that lined the path from the village to the fjord were lit, glowing a warm orange beneath the ever darkening sky. There were soft sounds of a lyre playing somewhere just beyond your line of sight, settling a trance over the whole of the village as you made your way through smaller parties that gathered outside of the great hall, enchanted by the warm night. Feast nights were always your favorite, less of a formality than a festival or a celebration, you weren't so watched on a feast night as you were other times.
"Have you come to join the dancing?"
Still, there were some whose gaze you never quite seemed to escape. As you addressed the rustling of bushes near your knees, you peered down in the dim light to find Ivar, stakes dug into the ground as he frowned up at you, obviously not amused by the playful teasing.
"Perhaps someone could string me up like those nonsensical dolls they bring to market, wouldn't you enjoy that?" He retorted, thinking of the countless times he'd requested his mother have the man with the marionettes killed. Or punished violently, he wasn't picky.
You bent your knees, squatting down so your butt hovered over the grass, reaching a hand out to stroke Ivar's cheek. He leaned his face into your touch, turning his head just so to brush his lips to your open palm.
"You think I am making fun of you? You forget then, I have felt the way you move against me when we are beneath the furs on your bed my love, there is no dance I long for more." You replied.
Ivar huffed, tilting his head down just enough to nip at your exposed wrist, "now I know you are playing with me." He replied, "I should have you strung up like that marionettes."
When you smiled he couldn't deny the triumphant feeling that gripped his heart, as if some unknown force was saying 'look, you who is so plagued by hideous feelings and darkness, you have made the sun shine in the dead of night'.
"You would enjoy that." You repeated his words back to him, a statement this time and not a question.
Carefully, so that you didn't fall over completely, you stood back up, brushing your hands down the front of your clothing. Ivar watched you as the doors to the great hall sung open and more people filed out, shouting and laughing with each other. The lights inside the building and the ruckus had drawn your attention for a split second but then your gaze was back on Ivar, the soft light of the lanterns shining on his face and illuminating his blue eyes.
"Shall we take our leave?" You asked, sounding somewhat conspiratorial as you watched him.
Despite the informality of the feast, you were certain your parents would notice if you were gone for too long or if you left early. They'd been careful with you ever since you'd come of age, cautious of who took an interest in their youngest child. Though they knew better than to speak out of turn about the disabled son of Ragnar Lothbrok, you could see, and so could most everyone else, that he was not who they wanted you to spend time with. Ivar knew, certainly. He'd seen the disdainful looks but it rarely deterred him. Ivar had always been someone who got exactly what he wanted, whether through temper tantrums, deceit, manipulation, or someone's misguided pity. Still, he looked almost surprised at the suggestion, though it only showed for a split second before he was schooling his expression to a neutral one.
"I thought feast nights were your favorite? Don't you want to celebrate all who have returned from raiding?" He asked, shifting his weight so he could look up at you with more ease.
"Of course I want to," you replied, ignoring the first of his questions, "but I don't think I need anyone in there watching me celebrate your safe return."
Ivar's face flushed up to his ears and you smiled in satisfaction. "You are worse than Loki with your tricks."
"What tricks?" You asked, sitting this time, your legs crossed in front of you and knees brushing against his hands. You leaned forward, your face as close to Ivar's as you could be without touching him, "don't you want to celebrate?"
"What would your father say, hm?" Ivar hummed, secretly thrilled when your hand found its place cradling his face again, your thumb gently stroking his cheek.
"Are you really more interested in discussing my father?" You asked, "when I am famished and have been waiting since the ships first crested the horizon to feast?"
"Were you not just in the great hall?" Ivar questioned, squinting in the dim lantern light so that he could appraise your words.
"I was. You weren't though and I have been eager to sink my teeth into you," you teased, snapping playfully at him.
The flush was back on Ivar's cheeks tenfold, flustered by the very suggestion that you wanted to be with him. It wasn't the first time you and he had laid together. Thank god for that, Ivar thought briefly as you stood again, stepping off the path and back toward the bushes that Ivar had come out of before.
Your first time together had been awkward and slightly painful and he had been embarrassed for some weeks afterward that you would be hesitant to speak to him again, let alone allow him in your bed. Some goddess had blinded you with love or lust or adoration though because you seemed so taken with him from then on that you often sought him out, much to his own excitement. Ivar was just as adoring and in love as you were, if not more. While it was more than true that he got exactly what he wanted all the time, it was always better when he was wanted back.
"Are you coming?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
"Yes. You'll notice it is a bit more difficult to turn around when you're unable to stand up." He grumbled, digging his stakes into the ground as he shifted himself around to follow you.
"Perhaps, but I do so enjoy watching you."
"Humorous is it?" Ivar snapped, missing the way you smiled at his sour disposition.
"Not the word I would use," you replied. "Is a snake in the grass humorous? Or is it beautiful? Dangerous? Exciting?"
"I am a snake now?"
"Oh, most assuredly my love, you are full of venom. Though, I would gladly let you bite me." You teased, watching him as he caught up with you.
"You have not let me yet," he replied, looking far more sour at that remark than at anything else you'd said all night.
"Patience."
He huffed, "I have endured a treacherous ocean, armies of men, illness, injury, near death...and you tell me to have patience?"
"Just for a simple kiss." You replied, as if it was nothing to him, "you have brought riches back with you...surely that means more than a simple kiss."
Ivar tugged your ankle as you stepped closer to him, knocking your legs out from under you and watching with satisfaction as you fell to the ground.
"Ivar!" You laughed, uninjured and no less enamored with him than you had been before. He smiled, devious grin lighting up his features in the dark as he crawled over you, staking the ground over your sleeve so that you couldn't move away from him. "What are you doing?"
"I have no patience," he replied, "I shall have my feast here."
#collecting stories imagine#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless x y/n#ivar ragnarsson x reader#ivar ragnarsson imagine#ivar the boneless fanfic#ivar the boneless fic#ivar lothbrok x reader#ivar lothbrok imagine#vikings imagine#vikings fanfic#vikings fan fiction
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Sometimes I randomly get super sad thinking about all the fics I’ve read on Quotev (yes that’s where I got my start many years ago😂) and how I’ll never find them again. Im also sad that I just got used/comfortable with Wattpad right before it switched to whatever it is now😭
#lewis pullman#top gun fanfiction#top gun bob#top gun imagine#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#jake seresin x reader#rooster bradshaw x reader#glen powell#the hobbit fanfiction#ivar the boneless#this man makes me go absolutely feral#ivar the boneless imagines#the hobbit imagine#king thorin#thorin fic#fili and kili#fili x reader#fili durin#kili durin#kili x reader#wattpad#quotev
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five-star hotel // modern!ivar x reader (part one of two)
Summary: sometimes, love results in heartbreak. That’s just life, and there was nothing she could do about it. But what if the reason for her anguish was also the very same one that brought her so much bliss?
Pairing: ivar x reader
Type: miniseries
Warnings: angst, heartbreak
Word count: 3.325
Music insp.: Hotel Caro by Baco Exu do Blues & Luísa Sonza (at this point, let’s just assume me picking Brazilian artists is the norm).
A/N:
This is the first time I’ve written for Ivar, but the moment I listened to this song I immediately related it to him. I guess my brain is just wired to connect anything angsty with our dear Ivar The Boneless. It’s very different from what I usually write, and I am aware that this trope has been done a thousand times, but I wanted to give it a try
Please, listen to the song! I know it’s in Portuguese, like most of the songs I pick, but I believe it’s possible to feel the heartbreak just from the rhythm. Nevertheless, I loosely translated some of the lyrics that inspired the fic.
Gentle reminder that English is not my first language, and this was not proofread.
I'm thinking of you
smoking a cigarette
An empty bathtub, an expensive hotel
Honestly, I’m tired
If it was you who made a mistake, why do I feel guilty?
(hotel caro by baco exu do blues & luísa sonza)
Y/N was over-the-moon excited when Ivar shared his plans with her.
She had been invited by her boss to work with her for a trimester at another branch and had jumped at the opportunity. But, as amazing as it was for her career, it’d keep her away from Ivar for three whole months.
Altogether, they had been apart for two months now, and there was still one more to go. So, when Ivar called to share the news, how he had already booked a hotel room for them, the best available in town, she was over-the-moon excited with the possibility of seeing her boyfriend earlier than expected, and, better yet, have a romantic weekend away with him.
Y/N had gone all in on his idea, even spending more money than she normally would in a dress she just knew he’d love. She had spent the hours before they’d meet getting ready, choosing the lingerie he loved to see her in, putting on makeup that made the colours of her eyes stand out, even watching a YouTube tutorial to master the technique. When Y/N looked at herself in the mirror of her small temporary bathroom, she felt powerful. She was ready to slay, and Ivar Ragnarsson was her chosen victim.
It never crossed her mind the fact that Ivar hadn’t contacted her the whole day, neither to confirm or cancel their plans.
She arrived at the hotel room early, wanting to surprise him. She wanted to see the look on his face when he walked in the room and saw her already there, waiting for him. Also, she missed him like crazy and couldn’t wait to see him.
There was an armchair in a corner of the room, and she moved it, so it was facing the door. Grabbing a bottle of wine she found in the minibar, she sat on the chair, legs crossed, and a glass in hand. The clock on the wall told her it was almost eight pm. Ivar would be there at any moment.
So, she waited. And waited. And waited some more.
It was nearing midnight when Y/N finally accepted that he was not going to show up. By that time, she had finished almost two bottles of wine, still sitting on that same armchair, staring blankly at the door. By then, she had stopped listening to the elevator, no longer perking up to every noise out in the corridor. Was that the sound of his crutch hitting the floor? Well, if it was, she didn’t care anymore.
The one thing she could not believe was that she was, once again, in that situation. She had trusted him with her heart one more time, and he had stomped it to pieces. Again.
She knew Ivar. She knew him better than anyone else, even better than his overprotective mother. She knew that if there had been an emergency, he’d find a way to contact her. If he couldn’t reach out to her himself, he’d send one of his brothers, he’d find a way.
Y/N remembered a specific episode a couple of months into their relationship, when they were supposed to have dinner at their favourite Greek restaurant. But he was over an hour late and all her calls kept going straight to voice mail. That was the first time she thought he had abandoned her. However, just as she was about to leave the restaurant, hungry and desolate, she spotted Ubbe. Ivar had had a minor accident that afternoon, and was in the hospital ever since, just as a precaution, but since he didn’t have his phone and couldn’t contact his girl, he had sent his brother to find her.
But this, left stranded in a hotel room, in a foreign country, when he was supposed to meet her? She knew better. He had every intention of leaving her. This was part of a thought-out plan, a meticulously crafted one. Honestly, she couldn’t even blame him for this one. What was it people said? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…
The first time Ivar pulled something like this, she had cried her heart out for days.
Y/N was telling her friends and family about this amazing guy she had met. All her friends noticed how smitten she was, walking around with heart eyes. Even her mother pointed it out when she brought him to a family festivity. Ivar had won over her mother and aunts the second he walked into her childhood home, carrying a small bouquet for each one of them. Y/N believed she was living the fairy tale she loved to read about as a teenager. Until she wasn’t.
One day, he simply disappeared. Ivar stopped answering her calls and replying to her texts. He had disappeared with the blink of an eye, as easy as that. When a week had gone by without any news from him, she decided enough was enough. After work, she went straight to his apartment. Y/N was going to make him talk, weather he wanted it or not. Civilized people had conversations and she was going to make him act like one for once in his life. However, when she got to his building, the doorman said he wasn’t home, and hadn’t been for the whole week. But he did leave a box for her to pick up, with all the stuff she had left at his place inside, she later found out.
That night, Y/N had gone back to her apartment and cried into the night. And the following days. She didn’t tell a soul about what had happened, how could she? How could she face her family and friends after everything she had told them about Ivar? She believed he was her very own Prince Charming, but it turned out he was just another jerk. Who believed in fairy tales, anyways?
For days, she regretted going by his place. She should’ve known better. If he wanted to talk, he’d come looking for her. All her life, she had judged her friends who always wanted to talk to their partners, to tell them how much they had hurt their feelings. Y/N never understood that need. She’d always argue that they knew that, they just didn’t care. Not receiving a message is also a message, right? Well, just look at how the tables have turned!
However, two weeks later, he came back. She had gone to the movies, her first outing since he left, and when she came back, he was sitting by her door, a huge bouquet of her favourite flowers in hand, one for each day they were apart. For hours, she let him apologise, beg her for forgiveness. He had gotten scared, he got cold feet. He loved her and didn’t realise how much he needed her until it was too late, how he couldn’t live without her. They could go away together, just the two of them and rekindle their relationship. But please, please, she had to forgive him, she had to accept him back!
It was the first time she had ever seen him cry, and the last one. That’s what had gotten to her, she had to admit. Seeing Ivar shed tears for her touched a place in her heart she thought he had damaged forever. So, she agreed. Y/N accepted him back into her life with the promise that he’d never do something like that ever again. If he had doubts about their relationship again, they’d talk it out, together, as a couple.
And just like that, they were back into their very own fairy tale. It was like they were never broken up at all. Their love was stronger than ever, and nothing could tear them apart. Or so she believed.
She just couldn't understand how they ended up here. Again. Y/N kept repeating the last months of their relationship in her head, trying to find the moment where things had changed. Trying to understand if she had done something wrong. However, she knew there wasn’t one. During their time together, Y/N hadn’t been anything but faithful. She knew Ivar had his own issues, even understood some of them; he also required attention, so much attention. Ivar needed someone who understood he wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, but that would devote themselves to him, nevertheless.
So that’s what she did.
Y/N loved Ivar, and there was never a day that went by where she didn’t tell him that. She’d repeat it to him until he’d get embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red. She’d point out every little detail about him that mesmerized her. Be it his looks, his intelligence, his devotion to her and others he cared about.
She loved it when he’d frown his eyebrows when reading a book. How he’d always pick her favourite movies for them to watch before she even said anything. The way he’d defend her against his brothers’ mocking, even though she was pretty well capable of doing so herself.
In return, she’d keep her fridge stocked with his favourite drinks. She’d send his favourite lunch to his work every time she sensed he was so deep in his work that he forgot to eat. When his legs were hurting too much, Y/N would have his medicine ready, his work brought to him, his bed, or her bed, if they were at her apartment, clean and comfortable. She’d do all that without acknowledging his condition, because she knew how much he hated to feel incapable.
She hadn’t done anything wrong; she was sure of it. So, why did she still feel guilty?
What did he tell her once? Oh yeah, he might break a bone, but he could never break a promise. Oh, well. Apparently, she wasn’t included in such promise. Who would’ve thought? Not Y/N, for certain.
Lingerie the colour of late afternoon
Who taught you the way to me?
Lying is also hiding the truth
Why didn't you take care of me?
My darling, loving you so much is not good
But it makes no difference
I don't want your presence
Don't trade me for anyone
What is fighting good for?
May you win
“Weren’t you going away this weekend?” Hvitserk asks his brother.
They were having their usual night out, just the brothers, and it wasn’t unusual for Ivar to tag along, even if he claimed to hate the city’s club life. But he was almost certain Ivar had mentioned something about travelling to meet his girlfriend.
Ivar takes a moment to realize his older brother was talking to him. But when he does, he just glares at the man.
“Trouble in paradise, I see”, Hvitserk remarks. Honestly, he was surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Ivar had the bad habit of pushing away everything that was good for him.
“Mind your own business, brother”, Ivar answers back, already regretting his decision to join his brothers at the bar.
“What did you do, Ivar?”, Hvitserk tries again.
“Why is it always me that does something wrong? Why couldn’t it have been her?”, the dark-haired brother rebuts back.
Hvitserk doesn’t bother with an answer, just stares at his little brother, one eyebrow raised. Sometimes he couldn’t believe the audacity of Ivar. The nerve!
The last thing Ivar wants is to talk about his relationship with Y/N, that being the very reason why he joined his brothers. Luckily for him, Björn got Hvitserk’s attention, distracting him from the matter momentarily.
The weight of what he’d done was heavy on his shoulders. He couldn’t shake off the image of her alone in that hotel room. When the hotel management had called him to let him know that his guest had arrived, like he had instructed them to do, Ivar wanted to cry. He wanted to get on the first flight, make up an excuse about his delay, and spend the rest of the weekend apologising to her.
But he couldn’t.
He was so sure what he was doing was for the best. Why postpone the inevitable? Just so he could have a few more memories to replay when he was laying by himself in bed, missing her warm body pressed up to his? No. Ivar wasn’t like that, he wasn’t one to avoid pain, life had built him like that. Thus, better than wait for his heart to be broken, he anticipated the result. He ended the relationship before it had the power to end him.
Ivar was about to open a bottle of whiskey to drown out his thoughts when he remembered his brothers were meeting up that night. At the time, anything seemed more appealing than spending the night by himself, thinking about her. So, he jumped at the opportunity. But now, sitting at a crowded bar, still nursing the same beer Björn had handed him when he arrived, and, worst of all, facing his brother’s scrutiny, he regretted his choice. He should have stayed home.
“What crawled up your ass?” Sigurd asks suddenly, noticing the sour look on Ivar’s face.
“Fuck off, Sigurd” Ivar snarks back. He was already at his tipping point, and if Sigurd wanted to start a fight with him, so be it. He needed a way to let out some steam anyways.
“I just asked a question, no need to get offended” his brother argues back, but the little smirk on his lips makes it clear that he knew what he was doing. He wanted to get a reaction out of Ivar, and he was about to get one.
“Come on, guys. Let’s chill, ok?” Ubbe, always the peacemaker, intrudes on their exchange.
Ivar could feel Hvitserk’s stare burning on the back of his head. He knew that his brother had not fallen for his bullshit attempts to distract him. He could never lie to his brother; he’d always see straight through him.
“Hey, Ivar” Hvitserk calls, “I’m not feeling too good. Think you can follow me home?”. It was clearly a lie. The man, being the designated driver, hadn’t touched a drink all night.
He debated his options for a second. It was already past midnight, and it would be next to impossible to get an Uber home. He could walk, but his legs were a bit sore from spending the day on his feet. But most of all, even though he didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he also didn’t want to stay at that bar a second longer.
“Yeah, sure” is all he responds, before standing up, gripping hard to his crutch.
The drive home is silent, and he’s thankful for that. Hvitserk had the habit of opining on his life whenever he got the chance. But, as they grew older and closer, he also learned when not to interfere, and Ivar would be forever thankful for that, especially on a night like this. Not that he’d ever tell his brother that.
“Do you want me to go up with you?” Hvitserk breaks the silence when they arrive at Ivar’s apartment building.
“No!” he answers abruptly. As much as he was thankful for the get away ride, he didn’t wish to spend anymore second with his brother, because if he did, he knew he’d cave and tell him exactly what had gone down that night, and he was not up for the speech that would follow. “I mean, no, but thanks”, he tries again, in a much gentler tone, one that surprised Hvitserk as much as his abrupt response, if not more.
“Hey, Ivar” he hears his brother call for him, just as he was about to leave the car. Standing by the passenger door, Ivar bends down so he can look at him.
“Whatever happened, between you and Y/N, I know you two can work it out. Just have a little faith in yourself, ok?”.
Ivar doesn’t answer, just closes the car door, and walks towards his apartment.
It was hours later when Ivar finally dragged himself to bed. After he had gotten home, he wandered around the apartment, purposely avoiding his bedroom, the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep Y/N out of his thoughts. They shared so many good memories inside those four walls, and now it felt like they were all coming back to haunt him. How was it possible that a place where once he felt so much peace, now left him suffocated?
Now, laying in bed by himself, Ivar wondered if what he did was really the best choice. If he had followed through with his plans like he had initially planned, he’d be with her right now. They would’ve gone to dinner, where she’d share with him all the news about her job, and he’d complain about working with his family. Then, they’d make their way back to the room, where he’d show her just how much he had missed her. Finally, she’d put on his discarded shirt, and lay in bed with him; her hands running through his dark hair, softly lulling him to sleep. He never had a good night of sleep as good as the ones he spent with her.
The images were playing out so vividly in his head, it was like it was happening right in front of him. Ivar could feel the tears burning his eyes, so he finally let them go. He’d let himself cry, just for tonight. Tomorrow, he’d put his armour back on, and move on with his life.
The fact that he kept himself away from what would’ve been her side of the bed wasn’t helping. But Ivar couldn’t bring himself to lay on her side. He was sure the pillows would still smell like her, even though it had been months since they last shared the bed, and the sheets had been changed many times ever since. Reaching out, he touches one of the pillows, fingers running through the soft material.
He never understood how someone could sleep with so many pillows, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put them away. It was like a part of him expected her to come back. As if one day he’d wake up and find her sleeping peacefully by his side, hands tucked beneath her head, lips parted, hair disheveled. Every time he woke up first, he’d stay in bed, admiring her features, imagining what would it be like to wake up next to her every single day, for the rest of his life.
He knew he had made the right decision. Loving someone as much as he loved her couldn’t be considered healthy, and he knew their tragic fate was just around the corner. One day, Y/N would realize the mistake she’s made. She’d finally understand that he wasn’t who she deserved. She’d get tired of putting up with his sorrow ass and leave.
Or worse.
She could be lying. What if all this time they were together she was lying to him? What if all the times she had said she loved him, she wasn’t being truthful? What if she had already met someone new? She had spent the past couple of months by herself in a different country… Weren’t there a million rom-com movies about that trope?
Honestly, the possibilities were infinite. So many things could happen. Just look at his father’s history. Ragnar married twice, had children, built a family. Both his wives devoted themselves to him, and still he wasn’t satisfied. Nowadays, he was just a shallow of the man he once was. He had so much and still couldn’t find happiness. What if that was his fate too?
No, he couldn’t end up like Ragnar. He was better than that. And that’s exactly why he did what he did, he had to remind himself. It was better to end things by his own terms than live by the volatility of other people's feelings. It was better to suffer now, when he was prepared, than be taken by surprise, be blindsided by her.
So, that was it.
Tonight, he’d let himself feel the pain of the breakup. He’d allow himself to remember all the reasons why he loved her so fiercely. All the little things that made her so unique in his eyes.
But tomorrow, it must come to an end.
Tomorrow, he was going to move on with his life, whatever it takes.
Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
#vikings imagines#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar imagines#modern ivar#ivar's heathen army#vikings fanfiction#vikings history#vikings#ivar the boneless#nanahachikyuu
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"Finnish polka" - Ivar the Boneless x Reader
SUMMARY: After helping one of the northern Jarls, the Lothbrok brothers attend a celebratory feast. There, they're faced with a tradition of warriors catching flower crowns that belong to young women. How surprised Ivar is when you almost shove your crown into his hands.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k
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Ivar is tired.
Of course he's glad that Jarl Thorstein came out victorious. And that his brothers are fine. Still, he feels weary as the adrenaline leaves his body. His legs start to ache. Ivar downs the rest of his mead in hopes it makes him a little more deaf to his mood.
The upbeat, bright music fills his mind like an obsessive thought. His heart beats to the rhythm tapped by the feet of dancing women. They spin, jump and run around with flower crowns sitting atop their heads. How the wreaths remain immovable, he can't quite say.
Ivar is also angry.
As the local tradition entails, when the song ends, all the dancing young maidens will throw their flower crowns to the crowd. Whoever catches it, is believed to be the girl's lover chosen by the gods. However, whether the couple indulges and trusts gods' judgement is a different story. But if the wreath falls to the floor, the girl is said to remain unmarried for the next five years.
Ivar knows the chance of him somehow catching one of those is near zero. He's sitting quite far from the dancers. Even if he did catch it, he's disillusioned about the imminent dissatisfaction of the flower crown's ownert. Not only is he disabled in a way that almost entirely excludes him from fighting but he's also infamous for his ruthless nature and vengeful heart. Hardly a man who invokes desire. Still, some naive piece of him remains hopeful that maybe he's wrong. Maybe he can be terrible and loved all the same.
He shakes those weak delusions away from himself before they sour his mood further.
His piercing eyes have been following one of the dancers for the better part of the song when he catches himself. Her movements look effortless even when the musicians pick up the tempo. Clearly, she's done this dance one too many times to have any doubts about what she's doing. Joy beams from her in a way that makes her appear almost shining. The wreath on the top of her head is mostly green with white and red flowers. It makes Ivar think of the woods surrounding Kattegat; it makes him think of home.
Ivar leans toward Oddleif, one of the Jarl's men, who's sitting next to him.
"Who is she?"
Oddleif looks at Ivar out of the corner of his eye. He scoffs, takes a large sip of his drink and only then decides to answer:
"If you're thinking of catching her flower crown, don't." His blond braids dance slightly as he shakes his head. There's a hint of laughter hiding in the back of Oddleif's throat. "Half of the surviving army wants it."
"I have no care for flowers," Ivar lies through his teeth. "They have no use. They wilt and die and soon no one remembers them. I am simply curious about her."
"Her father is the blacksmith. You might have seen him in the battle, swinging that damned sledgehammer." Ivar silently nods. He remembers that man - tall as a pine tree and wider than a stable. The blacksmith invokes respect even when he's not decimating enemies like a troll equipped with a tree trunk. "He said once that he'll let any man marry his daughter but only if he can lift an anvil. Tried it once myself. Not that I had any success as you can imagine." Oddleif laughs bitterly and continues drinking. His eyes are glued to the dancers but Ivar knows that right now, the two of them are admiring the very same girl with a flower crown like a forest.
The melody continues to quicken. Despite being out of breath, you don't want it to end. Your feet ache but they do not falter nor do they stumble. It seems that their muscles know the dance better than your mind. There are a dozen girls dancing with you but you do not see them. Not really. They appear worlds away from you and the song of bagpipes and strings.
And then appears he.
A slouched, dark figure flies before your eyes as you're doing another pirouette. The man simply sits there, in the corner, but his presence is overwhelming. Or so you think. He does nothing and yet he tears his way into your microcosm of quick footwork, turns and lively polka.
You recognize him. Of course you do. Many whispers, equally frightened and amazed, have spoken of him. You have believed in all of them until the moment you met his gaze for that split second. Right then, somewhere between blinks and breaths, you renounce every gossip you've ever heard about him. A voice in the back of your head, a trickster or an oracle, nags at you to learn the truth yourself.
When the lively, fast melody comes to a stop, you find yourself shaken awake from the thoughts about Ivar the Boneless. The end of the song seems somewhat abrupt to you as you've been letting your fantasy run wild without paying much attention to what's going on around you. Dancing the last part purely by the memory of your muscles. The moment musicians stop playing, a small crowd begins to form in front of you. Men of different class, age and ancestry reach out their hands. Each one of them is more determined than the other to catch your wreath. They start to yell something but considering that the inside of the long hall is awfully loud anyway, you can't make out any words. Reading their lips, you can only tell when they're exclaiming different variations of your name.
They're only pushing towards you, shoving each other away. You keep taking steps backwards but the distance you create with each step is quickly shortened with the men calling out to you. You knew there would be many of them in front of you but never assumed that many. Instead of somewhat flattering, the siege is terrifying and imposing.
Looking for help or advice, just something that will ease your tension, you silently look around the long hall. Your gaze falls on the same slouched, dark figure. Strange peacefulness washes over you when his eyes meet yours.
The dim candlelight seems to bend around Ivar, making his corner appear darker than anywhere else in the long hall. He's simply sitting there. Maybe he's not interested? But the way he's staring at you shows nothing if not burning curiosity. The sons of Ragnar aren't know for their patience. No, they're said to take whatever they want the moment their desire sparks. Despite that, the youngest of them, and arguably the most famous, appears to be waiting. But for what exactly?
The fresh pine needles prick your skin. You furrow your eyebrows. Your gaze falls to the wreath and then comes back to Ivar. Could it be...?
It isn't much of a throw, really. You toss the flower crown towards him without looking anywhere else but into Ivar's eyes. Without as much as blinking, he catches the wreath with ease as though he has been prepared for that. Low murmurs hit your ears but quickly the sounds of disappointment fall silent as it's made clear who caught your wreath. Despite their initial determination, the men who had been reaching out to you suddenly disperse like fog does in the early morning. They knew better than to get under the skin of a Lothbrok. Especially that one.
"I believe this belongs to you."
Ivar is holding up the wreath. Despite his words, he makes no effort to offer it back to you. His eyes are bright and glistening, the corner of his mouth is tugged ever-so-slightly upwards. He appears amused.
At first, it was nice to finally sit down after dancing for what seemed to be hours on end. But now, when you're facing the consequences of your spur-of-the-moment decision, the tension sets in once more. This time, however, it doesn't feel threatening. In turn, the nervousness is somewhat welcome like the jittery state before a surprise is revealed.
"If I wanted to keep it, I wouldn't have thrown it," you answer in a light tone.
"And why should I keep it?"
The blue eyes study you for a moment. It's a strange feeling - you can't help but think that the longer you are in Ivar's presence, talking or not, he's reading your mind and soul. He stares at you in a way that tells you he already holds all the answers but wants you to confirm them.
"It's said to bring good luck." You shrug your shoulders. "Until the wreath wilts and dies, Freya and Freyr will look after you."
Ivar looks at the flower crown again. Only now, when he's holding it, does he realize that for a flower crown, there aren't many flowers. A few sandworts and poppies, yes, but the wreath is made mostly of evergreen plants. It might take weeks until the crown wilts.
The microcosm seems closed again. Now it's not you and the bagpipes but you and him. It's strange and it's new but it's not threatening. It's not the kind of presence a man of his infamy should have. Or perhaps you've simply fallen for his honey trap.
"Why did you throw it to me?" Ivar tries to make the question seem unimportant, just curiosity brought to light. But he can't quite convince himself that he doesn't care. There's a hint of something vulnerable and genuine when the words roll off his tongue. It's easy to miss like a dandelion clock carried away by a gust of wind.
You wish you knew the answer yourself.
"I don't know really," you say honestly. "Perhaps it was one of the gods that threw the flower crown for me." You make a pause. Ivar's face is unreadable. "Or perhaps I have no interest in urgent, desperate men."
Ivar chuckles. A deep shadow is covering part of his face, making him appear kind of sinister. For a moment, you question whether he's laughing with you or at you.
"And what exactly makes you think I'm not urgent or desperate?" he continues. You notice his smile is growing wider. That glint of amusement in his blue eyes has changed in mischief. "What if I'm worse than all of them? You surely know who I am."
"Of course I do, Ivar the Boneless," you drone the words. In a barely noticeable fashion, he clenches his jaw when you say his name. It makes him feel a strange, burning sensation in his stomach but Ivar is left unsure whether he likes it or detests. "The whispers of your ruthless character are unending."
"But you're not afraid?" he asks with both disbelief and suspicion. A girl with a flower crown doesn't necessarily strike him as fearless in any way. Or this whole strange situation is a little too good, too dream-like, for him to accept it at face-value.
Ivar's smile falters when your face takes on a confident, maybe even arrogant, expression. He's taken aback.
"I'm a woman of the North," you say while leaning towards him on the table. The distance between your faces shortnes. "The only person I fear is my own reflection."
The sudden closeness makes Ivar inhale sharply. The strong smell of pine needles fills his nostrils. For a moment, his imagination runs wild but it's not his fault - he has no grasp on it:
How those big eyes glistened in the semi-dark of the long hall as you were staring at him. Your smirk, somewhat challenging and beckoning him to push on. Then, the smell of conifer that shakes all senses awake. His fantasy leaves the northern snows and travelles to forests, to him brushing pine needles from your hair and your naked, flushes skin smelling of evergreen trees.
But quickly his shaken awake, to his utmost displeasure, by you:
"Well, if you don't want it, I suppose I should take it back, no?"
Your hand unsurely reaches out for the wreath in Ivar's hand. He's quick to pull his arm back.
"It's bad luck to take back gifts," he states plainly. In an act of nonchalance, Ivar is playing with the wreath, spinning it around his finger. "I should like to keep it."
Sometimes you come back to the night you've met the infamous Viking, when you're rendered sleepless while he's calmly breathing next to you, getting the rest he desperately needs. How funny all of it seems - that a flower crown in bloodied, merciless hands could lead to having a genuine crown on your head. Maybe you were right, after all, and it really was the hand of one of the gods that threw the wreath for you.
#vikings#vikings series#vikings tv series#vikings fanfiction#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#vikings ivar#ivar x reader#ivar lothbrok#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless fanfiction#ivar the boneless imagnie
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Truth or Dare
Pairing: ivar x reader
Word count: 1101
Warnings: ivar being insecure, drinking, brief mentions of sex, kissing
Masterlist Here
Growing up with the Ragnarssons got you in a lot of well questionable situations but tonight was also one of them. Except at least no one wanted to kill anyone. Yet. The night is young after all. “I dare you to,” Ubbe began, drunkenly waving his cup at Sigurd, “to down that whole horn of mead in one,” he said as Sigurd rolled his eyes while Hvitserk, Ivar, and you cheered him on.
“Fine, fine,” he eventually gave in with a smile, drinking the alcohol he’d been avoiding all night in 10 seconds flat. “Now,” he said, eyes wandering the circle. You were all sat a few feet from the bustling hall where they were celebrating their return from the latest raid, but this was far more your style. Even as Sigurd pointed his finger at you, you smiled, “Truth or dare?”
“Hmm,” you wondered which would get you in worse bother considering the four drunk men you considered your closest friends. “Truth,” your response was met with groans and even Ivar leaned over to whisper ‘coward’ in your ear.
“True or false,” he started, his eyes dancing in a way that made you nervous, “You and Leif,” he said, eyebrows raised making Ubbe and Hvitserk ooo at you, but Ivar stayed silent.
You rolled your eyes at Sigurd, “That wasn’t a question,”
“Please you know what I’m going to ask,”
“Whatever do you mean dear Sigurd?” you smiled, batting your lashes at him.
“You’ve fucked?” Hvitserk jumped in and the boys’ cackles almost covered up the low growl from Ivar but none of them seemed to notice.
You shot him a quick look before answering, “No,” you said and Ivar’s shoulders finally untensed.
“But you’ve kissed?” Ubbe said, making things worse instantly.
You rolled your eyes once more before taking a drink out of your flask, “No you only get one question. Now Ivar truth or dare?”
As you turned to face the blue-eyed boy you did your best not to stare too obviously at his face. You weren’t sure why or when your crush started on Ivar, but it was getting harder to ignore the older you both got. However, after a few beats of silence he finally spoke, “I do not wish to play anymore, I am tired. goodnight,”
All four of you watched after him as he dragged himself away however he wasn’t heading home. “What’s wrong with him?” Sigurd asked as Ivar disappeared into the forest tree line.
“I’m gonna go- “a staggering Ubbe said as he tried to stand but you quickly pushed him back down and stood.
“I’ll go,” you said, not even turning back to chastise their whoops and Woo’s.
It didn’t take long to find Ivar with his eyes closed and back against a tree. As you walked you tried to be quiet, but you heard a twig snap and Ivar sigh. You grimaced as you moved to sit down next to him though he still would not open his eyes. “What is the matter Ivar?”
“It’s nothing,”
“Please Ivar,” you said, sighing before deciding to try make him laugh, “You’re never this calm when your upset,” you joked but he only sighed once more.
Finally, though he opened his eyes, but he looked straight forward. He took a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he spoke, “You never answered the question,”
“What question?”
“Ubbe’s question,” he said, his voice straining as you noticed him gripping his hand into a fist.
You paused for a moment before you realised, letting out a sigh of relief, “No Ivar. I haven’t kissed him. Is that what upset you?” he said nothing again, closing his eyes once more. “Ivar please what is wrong? Why does it bother you who I kiss?”
“It doesn't- I mean I- “he sighed, his breathing becoming heavier, “I just didn’t want to be the last one to have ever kissed someone. That’s it. okay?” he said, finally turning to look at you with a glare behind his eyes. Most would flinch under his gaze, but your face softened when you saw the hurt behind his eyes, “And I didn’t want to wait around for someone, even you, to ask me a stupid question like that,”
“Ivar- I wouldn’t have asked you that,” you said as his eyes fell to the floor, “I didn’t know you hadn’t kissed anyone either,”
“You- “Ivar paused, lifting his head, “You’re lying,”
“Am not!” you protested, “Why would I lie?”
“To make me look less stupid?”
You laughed at that, shoving his shoulder, “Where would the fun in that be? If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t kissed someone,”
Ivar rolled his eyes, “Yeah right. Who would want to kiss me?” he said as he turned his gaze to you. his eyes knocked the wind out your lungs and for a moment you considered not saying anything.
“I would,” you finally said, your voice soft.
His eyes perked up at your words though, no longer able to take it back, “You would?” he asked, and you nodded gently. Another few moments of silence passed before he cleared his throat, “Perhaps it would be better for us to be each other’s first kiss. So, we can um learn what to do,” he said as his eyes fell once more to the floor.
“Perhaps,” you said, shuffling closer, “Ivar?” you said, your head instinctively leaning closer to his so that when he looked up his nose brushed yours, “Would you like to kiss me?” you asked, his breathing fanning your lips.
Ivar swallowed hard, his eyes darting to your lips, “Yes,” he eventually breathed out, “I would like that very much,”
He stayed frozen but slowly your lips dipped in till they brushed against his. Fuck it. you closed the gap, your eyes falling shut as you felt his lips against yours. the kiss was soft and gentle and lasted only a brief second before you pulled away, but you were still nose to nose.
“Ivar?” you tried to ask but his lips moved too quickly, capturing yours again but you were quick to catch up. Your hands moved to cover his, bringing them over to rest on your waist before yours moved to his shoulders which you could finally feel how muscular they’d become.
You kissed till you couldn’t breathe anymore and when you pulled away his lips tried to follow as you both gasped for air. “I think,” Ivar began to pant, “I like kissing you,”
“Good,” you grinned, your hand moving to cup his face, “Then lets never stop,”
#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar x reader#ivar#ivar imagine#ivar ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson smut#ivar ragnarsson imagine#ivar ragnarsson x reader#vikings tv#vikings tv imagine#vikings tv x reader#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#vikings#ivar fluff#ivar the boneless fluff#ivar ragnarsson fluff
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Viking Men Being Possessive
Pairing: Ivar, Ragnar, Rollo, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Harekr x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, protectiveness, jealousy, possessiveness, neck kisses, markings, threats, fights, injuries
A/N: There isn't enough Viking content out here. Why is that? Do I need to feed you?
Because a lot of people tended to underestimate him due to his legs he's developed a very aggressive and protective attitude towards you. He never ever lets go of your hand when you're sitting together and taps his hand on the hilt of his knife whenever any man asks you to drink with them. He always keeps an eye out for anyone who might be dangerous to you and when he does see someone like that he leans over and whispers in your ear to not look, its about to get ugly if they approach you.
Ragnar always lets you wear his cloak regardless of the temperature. As his future wife you should get used to wearing his clothes don't you think? He is pretty strict with his men when it comes to them interacting with you, he trusts you and most of them but there are a few that he knows would just love to get their hands on you, the most beautiful woman there is.
Rollo takes a swing at everyone who is a threat to you with no hesitation. He will beat them up first and if they survive ask them who they think they are, approaching his woman. He's the only man who can touch you, the only man who can kiss you, the only man worthy of being with you and protecting you. Some of his fights have a tiny bit of a flare to them, for your amusement and his... later.
Before you became a couple Ubbe's gotten into quite a few fights over you and the men calling you names. You were the woman he's had his eyes on for the longest time, he will not tolerate any slander towards you. His face might be bruised and his lip split when he pulled you into a kiss but he wanted to send a message to the other warriors there. If anyone would like to come forward and challenge him now that he's made his feelings for you known they are welcome to, but he can't say he won't fight with all his might and leave them standing or capable of it.
Hvitserk loves to ride with you, with you being in front so he can wrap his arms around you and have easy access to your neck. A neck that he can mark, that he wants to mark every night. Likes to joke around with everyone else about how gifted you are in certain areas but if they even think that he's sharing you they've got another thing coming for them. He's the only one who can talk like this about you, and he's the only one you'd allow it for because you know its his way of bragging that he has the best and most beautiful lover.
Harekr has you in his lap almost all the time, sitting on his thigh or if he feels like he needs so display that you're his then he will have you sitting on the furs next to him and pressing your cheek against his thigh. He kisses the back of your hand either way, very softly too. Despite his harsh nature he does have moments of calm and love towards you, mostly in private, in public he sprinkles in a few neck kisses to make your pretty skin, and make you moan if he feels like people are looking at you too much.
#vikings x reader#ivar x reader#ragnar x reader#rollo x reader#ubbe x reader#hvitserk x reader#harekr x reader#ivar ragnarsson x reader#ragnar lothbrok x reader#rollo lothbork x reader#ubbe ragrasson x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#hvitserk ragnarsson x reader#vikings imagines#vikings imagine#vikings headcanons#vikings x you#vikings fluff#vikings#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#rollo lothbrok#ubbe ragnarsson#hvitserk ragnarsson#lord harekr
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Being Married To Ivar Would Include...
-Ivar being really protective over you in every single way possible. He would fight anyone who tries to mess with you or try and take you away from him.
-Him wanting to make sure that you are safe no matter what and always has someone go with you in the village does not matter if it is him or some other warrior going with you.
-During feasts he always has you sit with him. He does not want you to feel alone or have to sit with another man. So, he just wants you to sit with him.
-When you both are in bed, he loves to cuddle with you and be with you all throughout the night. Sometimes, he lets you cuddle him from behind but his most favorite is when he is laying down on his back and then you just lay your head on his chest.
-You both always having fun no matter what is going on. Everyone always notices that you both are always smiling around each other and making each other laugh at any time possible.
-Him always being super gentle with you. He is always gentle touching you. He always makes sure that when he hugs you or even when you both cuddle that he is being gentle and soft with you.
-His brothers have had a small crush on you at some point but have let it go because they had realized that you were staying with Ivar for a long time.
-His brothers liking you and thinking that you are a good fit for him and could handle all of his crazy tendencies.
-Ragnar and Aslaug liking you as well and treating you as if you are their own family and talking to you as such as well.
#norway#scandanavia#vikings#viking#imagines#nordic#vikings headcanon#vikings imagines#vikings fandom#norse#norsk#ivar#ivar lothbrok x reader#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar lothbrok#vikings ivar#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#vikings fic#scandanavian#history channels vikings
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Hvitserk: I sleep with an axe under my pillow
Ubbe: I sleep with a knife under mine
Y/N: you're both pathetic
Hvitserk: oh yeah, than what do you sleep with?
Y/N: Ivar
#vikings tv#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar lothbrok#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#hvitserk#ubbe ragnarsson
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Their friend is pregnant, pt. 2.
↳ Pairing. Hvitserk The Berserker, Sigurd Snake in The Eye, Ivar The Boneless.
↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant. [I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader].
↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships, smut/mention of sex.
↳ Note. A second part so I could write the ones that are left because is just so much fun to write this plot.
Part one.
Hvitserk The Berserker.
He adores you, he genuinely thinks you’re the only perfect person on earth and he would do anything to protect you from anybody, even himself.
He is busy between a thrall’s legs, making everything in his power to make her scream his name, thrusting like a madman when he hears his name being called and he stops right away. That’s not the thrall’s voice.
“Hvitserk,” You sob and he can’t help but to pull out and push the woman, running to you while fixing his pants.
“Come here, come here,” He mumbles, taking you in his arms and walking to another room that doesn’t smell like sex.
He sits on the floor in front of a bonfire with you on his lap, and you move around till your legs are around him just like he is around you. You move again and he grunts.
“D-Don’t move too much,” He whispers.
“O-Oh! I’m sorry, forgive—,” You try to move but he grips your thighs. “Hvitserk.”
“Forget everything else and tell me why are you crying,” He says. “Talk to me.”
“Why do I have to talk to you while your cock is poking into my backside?” You ask him and he grunts again, this time because of your stubbornness.
“That is because I got interrupted while I was getting it down, now, talk to me or I am going to take my axe and go look for the information myself.” He threatens.
You sigh and clean your face a little before looking at him.
“I am with child.”
“That’s not true,” He chuckles and panics when your eyes start to fill with tears, and he takes your face in his hands. “Wait— no, no, no sweat heart.”
“Y-You don’t believe me either,” You sob in his hands and he shakes his head.
“I thought it was another one of your pranks, I apologize little one,” You nod, sobbing. He frowns. “Either?”
“He kicked me out of the house… literally,” You whisper, rolling your dress to show him your scratched knees, you show him your hands and they’re scratched too. “He said I cheated on him, that a whore like me could find a man to breed me really fast just so I could trap—,”
You stop talking when Hvitserk moves you around, standing up and taking you with him. He puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the room and back to his room. In silence he takes off your dirty dress and tosses it to the side, he looks around for a moment and comes back with a shirt of him, he helps you put it on.
“I’m going to be right back, get under the covers,” He quietly says, you shake your head, and he sighs. “Under the covers, please.”
“You’re going to kill him.” You whisper.
“Of course, I’m going to kill him, for starters, I gave you that house, he has no right to kick you out, and second, while you’re with child?” He snorts with malice.
“Hvitserk,” He looks at you and holds your stare to let you know that he is not backing down. You nod to yourself and kiss his cheek. “I’ll wait for you awake.”
You know he is back when some thralls enter the room with the tub, he enters right behind them and you gasp, he is bathed in blood, from the hair to his boots.
“What in Odin’s green earth did you do to him?!” You ask alarmed, he shrugs and starts to take his clothes off in front of you and the thralls. “Hvitserk!”
“I tied him to a tree and started beating him,” He looks up slowly, his eyes cold. “I beat him till his last breath.”
“You’re insane,” You whisper, getting out of bed when he gets inside the tub. You start to undo his braids.
“For you, I can be worse than Ivar, you know this already.” He chants, not a single trace of regret on his face.
“Yeah well, you killed the abusive father of my child,” You roll your eyes. “So it’s safe to say that you’re now a father.”
He smirks.
“Great.”
Sigurd Snake In The Eye.
Everybody could see how much you mean to him, it was as obvious as the fact that the sun would shine every day. When it comes to you he knows no reason or shame, going as far as to beg if he needs to.
“I-I can’t find her,” He murmurs when all his brothers are gathered to hunt.
“Who?” Ubbe asks.
“What do you mean you can’t find her? It’s almost as if you live together,” Hvitserk jokes.
“I think her husband has something to do with her suddenly disappearing.” He swallows and just now everybody feels the tension in the air. “I-I need help, please.”
Suddenly Ivar starts crawling away and everybody looks at him, he stops and looks back directly at Sigurd.
“What are you doing there? We have to find her.” He grunts and in no time Sigurd is by his side.
That’s how much you mean to Sigurd, so much that even his younger brother whom he always argues about anything not dare to joke around.
And he finds you, in a small cabin deep in the woods, thanks to Hvitserk’s insight in the town he founds that your husband owns this cabin for when he goes hunting alone.
He enters the cabin and sucks a breath when he sees you in a corner hugging your legs. He takes one step and your husband comes out and pulls you by the hair, you yelp.
“If you get close I will kill them both!” He screams and Sigurd frown.
“Who’s them?” He whispers to himself, and you sob.
“You didn’t tell him? You’re carrying his child and you didn’t—,”
“Because it’s not his!” You cry, looking at Sigurd and his stare makes you stop trembling a little. You’re safe, Sigurd is here.
Suddenly an arrow enters from behind Sigurd, right on top of his head, and embedded right onto your husband’s head, him being so tall makes it easy for the archer to shoot without fearing it would hit you.
Sigurd looks behind him and nods to Ubbe, who just nods back and starts walking back with his brother, leaving him with you.
He opens his arms and watches how you run and jump on him, his arms sliding around you, one on your thigh and the other on your waist.
“I’m here now, shh…” He comforts you while walking till he leans on a wall. “Nobody can’t hurt you anymore.”
You sob on his neck and he hums.
“I’m tired,” You murmur and he nods.
He takes you back to the town and directly into his room and orders the thralls to prepare a bath for you. When everything’s ready he undresses you and lets you get inside the tub, he’s about to start looking for clothes for you but your grip on his hand stops him.
“I’m not going anywhere, I’m getting in with you,” He says to calm you down and when he sees you expectant he undresses and gets inside too, behind you.
He starts to caress your belly, he supposed you haven’t seen your monthly blood and that’s why you know you’re with child since it’s not clear in your belly.
“You’re going to start living here,” He whispers in your ear. “So I can take care of you better.”
“You have obligations,” You whisper.
“And you’re the main one,” He hums. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
Ivar The Boneless.
Nobody understands how you can stand Ivar, with the man being borderline obsessed with you. The only reason why you can lay with men is that he is certain that he can’t satisfy a woman and he would rather be burned alive than disappoint you from all people, but other than that, he lets no man get close to you unless you directly tell him that you chose that man to warm your chambers, he has bodyguards for you, thralls for you, he gives you a quarter of everything he owns or gets. Even when he goes raiding everybody knows that a lot of the goods are yours and yours only. That’s how obsessed Ivar The Boneless is with you.
Of course, it’s almost impossible to hide things from him, more so with the people in town being so eager to bring him information about you just to be favored, so as soon as you’re being yelled at and tossed around by the Viking Ivar is notified.
“You think after three times you can already be with child?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” The man was yelling at you, but you weren’t backing down. No sir.
“After ONE time of laying together, I can already be with child, or do you think your seed is so weak you need more than once? even more than three? Poor you.” You mock and gasp when he pushes you, making you fall onto your backside, you whimper at the burn in your hands for breaking the fall.
“I should just kill you and that bastard right now!” He yells, and you spit on your side in response.
“Who?” You freeze, feeling chills run down your spine. That voice only means problems, and a lot of them. “Who are you going to kill? My woman?”
You feel him right beside you, leaning on his crutch. He looks down at you and nods and you nod back, slowly standing up.
“L-Lord I-Ivar,” The man stuttered.
“So? You’re going to kill my woman, you say?” Ivar says, his tone friendly but his eyes, oh those eyes.
“N-no, no my lord,” The man keeps stuttering. “It’s this woman who says she’s carrying my child.”
Ivar face snaps to the side, looking at you while anger starts to bubble in his system, a burning feeling in his chest, he squints his eyes at you and silently you start to pray to the gods for the life of the man.
“When I was hunting and you were keeping me company, that was your last month bleeding, right?” Ivar says and he’s not actually asking, he knows that information, for he’s the one you always go to when you’re in pain, but you nod anyways. “And he pushed you while you’re carrying a child?”
You nod again.
“Yes, Ivar.” The man grimaces when he hears you call Ivar by his name and without honorifics, why nobody told him he was laying with someone so important? “He did.”
Ivar’s face slowly turns to the man, and he grins.
“Now I have to decide whether you die—,”
“Ivar can I—,” You start but are interrupted.
“NO!” He snaps, pointing at you with his finger. “You do not get to save him from this, you do not get a saying this time!”
“Ivar,” Your own anger makes you grind your teeth. “Can I go home? My feet are hurting and I need to get a healer for my hands.”
He blinks and looks down at your bloody hands from the fall before, he sighs, feeling bad at the way he talked to you when you weren’t even trying to help the man.
“I’ll finish this quickly,” Ivar says and in the blink of an eye, the man is being dragged by Ivar’s men while crying and babbling apologies.
You don’t let Ivar say anything more and start walking home and when you get there you ask for a healer and after being done with your hands and a quick checkup on your overall health you ask for a hot bath.
“It’s ready, my lady,” The thrall says just in time for Ivar’s entrance, she gasps and starts to tremble.
“You can go now, don’t come back again, you may take the tub out tomorrow,” You whisper tiredly.
Ivar is covered in blood and even you get a chill run down your spine. It looks grotesque, never has he had so much blood on him from just one person, he looks demonic even.
“I’m—,” He starts but you lift your hand.
“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” You murmur, starting to get undressed.
He looks at you with attention, watching you moan when the hot water gets in contact with your skin.
“I’m sorry.” He finishes what he was saying earlier and you roll your eyes.
“I’m with child, I got pushed by the father of the child and then he got killed by you and I imagine it was in the most animalistic way you could think of,” You tell him coldly. “I’m tired, I didn’t need you snapping at me when I was the one being mistreated, you may go now if that’s going to happen again.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all he says, he looks emotionless, his voice too. But you know that those words coming out of Ivar’s mouth is already a blessing.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I’m not leaving.” He says, crawling more closer.
“You look scary.”
“I’ll get clean after you tell me how are you,” He whispers and you sigh.
“What am I going to do now?” You whisper to him, getting close to him.
“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything,” He whispers. “Just let me take care of you. Both of you.”
“You already do that,” You smile.
He smiles and leans, giving you a soft kiss although you could tell it doesn’t mean anything more.
“Yes I do, until the gods call me to Valhalla.”
#vikings#vikings imagine#vikings smut#hvitserk ragnarsson#ubbe ragnarsson#ivar ragnarsson#ragnar lothbrok#sigurd#sigurd snake in the eye#hvitserk x you#hvitserk x reader#vikings ivar#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x reader
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❝the shield maidens challenge❞
✭ 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
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.
#x reader#x reader oneshot#x reader one shot#vikings x reader#vikings imagine#vikings imagines#vikings#ivar fanfic#ivar lothbrok#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar imagine#vikings ivar#ivar x you#ivar x y/n#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless x y/n#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar the boneless imagine#vikings masterlist
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Burn the World for You
Ivar The Boneless x Reader
Summary: When you are taken, Ivan doesn't take it too kindly.
Being Queen of Kattegat came with a price.
The price was that you were often attacked. People who were trying to take Ivar off of the throne often thought it would be the best way to do so by hurting you.
Since you were his wife.
Ivar absolutely adores you. You are his everything. His little wife.
You have known him since you two were only children. You watched him grow up to be a handsome man, while he watched you become the gorgeous woman you were today.
Your marriage came as no news to anyone.
And now, you were the Queen.
His Queen.
Who was kidnapped by three men.
You knew better than to struggle against the rope. You knew better than to try and fight them.
They didn't know the wrath of your husband. But they will soon learn.
You were quiet and collected as they dragged you to their camp not too far from your home.
How stupid were they? Even if no one was looking for you, they could find them easily!
Ivar swore he nearly entered Valhalla just by the sight of his bedchambers.
Everything was ruined, your favourite things were thrown everywhere, but most of all, you were gone.
Gone and there was blood on the floor. He sincerely hoped it wasn't yours.
Ivar saw red as he called his brothers and men to go and find you. With an axe in hand, he was also out for blood.
How dare anyone take you from him?!
You were patient. Even when a knife was held to your neck, you remained stoic.
You let out a deep sigh when finally Hvitserk arrived.
He killed the men and brought you back to your home.
"Where's my wife?!" you heard Ivar yell as he pushed himself through the crowd and into your home. Finally, as the door closed behind him, you walked over to him as he hugged you, he gave a thankful look to his brother who only nodded before he left you two alone.
"I'm fine Ivar. Idiots didn't even have a decent plan..."
"I gave you a knife... where is it?"
"I just finished bathing when they barged in, my knife and axe weren't with me." Ivar nodded, letting out long sighs and taking deep breaths.
"I thought I lost you."
"And I know you would come for me." you cupped his cheeks in your hands. "Even as they were talking about how they will kill me all I could think about was how I knew you would show up at any second and just kill all three of them. And then, your brother showed up. You sent him and he saved me," you placed a kiss on his lips. "No one will take me from you, Ivar. Not even the Gods." he smiled as he pulled you closer.
You knew he was happy to have you back as you could only imagine how angry he was when he realized that you were gone.
But now, you were back by his side, where you belonged.
He placed his nose into your neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself and to let his mind and body realise that you were indeed back
Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
#ivar#ivar the boneless#vikings ivar#Ivar the Boneless x reader#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar imagines#Ivar ragnarsson#Ivar ragnarsson x reader#Ivar ragnarsson imagine#Ivar ragnarsson imagines#Ivar ragnarsson x you#vikings fanfiction#vikings modern au#vikings imagines#vikings imagine#Ivar the Boneless imagine#Ivar the Boneless imagines
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Welcome! Request: CLOSED
My name is JC and I love writing!
KOFI
I Write Mostly Angsty Slice of Life but always open to request!
Masterlist below -
10/28 updated
MARVEL
XMEN
Kurt Wagner
1999 (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
Pt. 5
Blowin Me up (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
ONE PIECE
You Take Care of Their Hair
You get High with Them
Old Men Series Masterlist
Zoro,Luffy,Corazon Child Series
Crocodile, Law, Sanji Child Series
You Take their Hat
You Cook for Them Even though You such at It
How Strong the Old Man Gene's Are
They Lay on your chest
You give them a Massage
You give them Facemask
Drunk + Spiked
The Moment they fell in love with you
Just a Peak
You Die at Birth
(S)cream
Weird Relationship Milestones
Buggy The Clown
I'm your Biggest Fan (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
My Heart Breaks (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Theater Brat (Completed)
Theater Brat
Theater Bart Pt. 2
Theater Brat Pt. 3
Fell In Love Alone (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Jessica and Roger Rabbit Effect
Part 1
Part 2
My Anchor
Solo Act
Not Flashy
Your Seat Awaits
Trouble Comes in Pairs Pt. 1
NSFW Alphabet
Buggy find out about thirst traps
Buggy finds out about thirst traps pt. 2
Not all Silver and Gold
Pain and Pleasure
Switch Things Up
Boardwalk Artist
Poppy Kisses
First Bounty
Modern AU Buggy -> Part 2
Secret Headcanon
Ocean Eyes
Drunk teasing with bestie
You get him a Corgi
Paints on S/O
Roronoa Zoro
Favorite Bartender
N$FW Alphabet
New Parent Zoro
Dancing With Swords (Ongoing)
Part 1
Luffy D. Monkey
Luffy realizing he's in love with you
Warm Mornings
Thunder Buddies
Sanji
Moral Support
Friend Like Me
A Girl to Love
Usopp
Bar Adventure
Shanks
Tag Youre It
You remind me
My Shooting Star
Mihawk
Call Me Sir
Only Us
NSFW Alphabet
Tag Youre It
My heart lies with you
Fight for pleasure
Look up Darling~
Daddy Mihawk
How and Why?
Crack
Morticia and Gomez Effect
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Its Done
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Crocodile
So Annoying
MISC.
Capitan Kuro X Reader
Alvida X Reader
VIKINGS- Coming Soon
CALL OF DUTY
Relationship Fluff
Medic of 141
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Dumb cat that loves Simon
Finds out about thirst traps
Blip on the Radar (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2.
John 'Soap' McTavish
Koing
Finds out about thirst traps
But do have other interest and willing to write about other Animes, Cartoons, Shows and More!
#marvel imagine#anime imagines#vikings imagines#one piece#buggy the clown x reader#buggy the clown#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#ivar the boneless#vikings ivar#hvitserk fanfic#ubbe imagine#kurt wagner x reader#kurt wagner
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Whispers of Love: Ivar x Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: Reader is new in Kattegat and catches the attention of a certain Ragnarsson.
Warnings: Assault, murder, slight swearing(i think)
You came to Kattegat just a couple days ago but it didn’t take much time at all for you to notice the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok. You only saw them from a safe distance as they talked to one another. You noticed one of the boys was crippled but not before you saw his face. You were in awe, to say the least. But your eyes must have lingered on him for quite some time for he met your gaze with an intense stare that sent chills down your spine. You never had more reason to leave and go back to the hut you were staying in.
You became an orphan at the mere age of 12 and had taken care of the farm for many years with your older brother. But the two of you had recently decided that you wanted a far more exciting future than just farming on the land so you sold the land and took the money to buy a hut and look after yourself just until you had settled in. You forgot about Ivar soon enough once you reached you new home and moved on with your new life.
A month passed by and living in Kattegat was so much more different than the farm. It was much louder, faster and there were more people than you could count. But it was not to your dislike, it was the contrary actually. You had started your training to be a physician and you were doing nicely. Everything was working out better than you or your brother could’ve imagined.
Ivar had not stopped thinking about you ever since that little eye contact in the market and it may have been a bit delusional of him to still believe that he would see you again. You were probably not even in Kattegat anymore because he could not find you anywhere. You were the first girl to look at him with such admiration and he drowned in your beauty the second he laid eyes on you.
During dinner he seemed to have zoned out because Sigurd had to throw some food at him to get his attention. Ivar was immediately annoyed and glared at him. Trying to stop himself from flinging his axe at his brother, he asked, “Why are you throwing food around like a child?”
“You wouldn’t listen. Had to do something to bring you back to Midgard,” he replied.
Ivar rolled his eyes, already feeling great anger towards his brother but before he could say anything, his mother interrupted, “We are celebrating Yol tomorrow.”
Ivar drowned in his thoughts once more. He would know if you were in Kattegat by tomorrow night. If you were in the town, then you would be at the feast and he would approach you. He wanted to know all there was to know about you; all the important and unimportant things of your life.
You and Kalf, your brother began cleaning up the plates and horns after dinner. You broke the silence, “It is Yol tomorrow. There will be a great feast.”
“Yes, I have not been in the Great Hall since the Thing, where I got my arm ring. Just thinking about the food that will be there makes me hungry all over again,” Kalf spoke excitedly.
“We have just had dinner, you fool. How are you always this hungry?” You spoke laughingly.
“Your cooking will make any man excited to eat something else,” he commented.
Gasping, you threw the nearest thing you could find at him at which he simply laughed. You spoke sarcastically, “I won’t make food for you if you really hate it that much.”
“Well, I mean it’s not THAT bad if I think about it,” he retaliated.
Smiling smugly, you spoke, “Better.”
The feast was spectacular. You sat on a different table from your brother though because you knew he would embarrass you the first chance he got. The food and the ale was so good you could feast all night. There was music as well and many were dancing to it but you weren’t drunk enough yet to give yourself away to the music. You simply talked and laughed with your newly made friends.
Looking around the hall, you suddenly noticed certain eyes on you and then the memory came back. Those blue piercing eyes and that face, he was perfect in every way. You maintained the eye contact for long, getting lost in his eyes until one of your friends whispered, “That’s Ivar. The crippled one.”
You looked at her. You had heard of Ragnar Lothbrok’s crippled son. The girl continued, “They say he is a menace, quicker to anger than most men, so don’t let his legs fool you and not only that, but I’ve heard that he is stronger and better at fighting than any of his brothers. Apparently he strangled a boar with his bare hands but that is probably not true.”
“Of course it is not true,” you scoffed. After waiting a second, you suggested, “Come, let us dance. The music is lovely.”
The both of you giggled and rushed to give yourself away to the music. You soon felt the beat through your veins and the rhythm matching with your heartbeat. You danced uncontrollably, partly because you wanted to see how the crippled prince would react, if at all. His eyes had barely faltered from you and it was making you uncomfortable but you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want him to know that he made you feel weak by simply looking at you but every now and then you would give him a glance.
You suddenly felt a hand around your waist. You didn’t know who the man was for you had never seen him. His hold on you was not budging when you struggled. His other hand was roaming at places on your body that made you terrified and the hall was crowded enough for no one to truly notice your struggle.
“Let go of me!” you said, struggling.
“Oh what’s a bit of harmless fun? Especially with a woman of your beauty,” the man spoke.
You felt tears welling up in your eyes as he continued to ‘dance’ and play around with your body until something that you hadn’t expected in a million years to happen. A knife suddenly struck his head as his eyes remained widened with shock. You quickly stepped away as his body fell to the ground. The tears ran down your face and you looked around trying to figure out who it was until you saw everyone looking at Ivar who was glaring at the man’s limp body. It was different to how he had looked at you in every singly way but you didn’t stay around to find out more. Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, you stormed out of the hall with Kalf following.
“What happened back there?” Kalf spoke worriedly.
“I-…” you hesitated. Before you could speak, your brother interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me. It is fine… Come on, let us go to our hut.”
Ivar had had his eyes on you all evening, his brothers even teasing him about it but he quickly turned them away angrily. But when he saw that asshole trying to touch you without consent, Ivar felt an uncontrollable anger. He wanted to skin the bastard alive but he couldn’t simply watch you struggle like that. Even after killing the man, Ivar felt no guilt. Why should he? He was simply protecting you, making sure you were safe.
No one had asked him about why he had done what he did. Perhaps it was already too obvious. Perhaps he had scared you off. You wouldn’t even want to go near him now. He felt his insecure thoughts weighing him down during the night.
You barely slept through the night, the picture of the knife piercing the man’s skull replaying in your mind and then seeing the look Ivar had on his face. That menacing look, the one that could take down entire armies.
The next day, you went away from the town to feel the quiet of nature that you had already begun to miss. You walked around the forest, finding a riverbank to sit nearby quickly enough. You thought about what had happened last night, how, in some really fucked up way, Ivar saved you. But he also killed a man who will never experience Valhalla now. Then again, that monster didn’t deserve Valhalla. You sat there wondering what would’ve happened if Ivar had not intervened.
“Mind if I join you?” you heard a voice from behind. When you turned your head and saw that it was Ivar, you quickly stood up.
“Were you following me?” you realised in this moment, you were terrified of him.
“Will it help if I said no? Either way, you walk too fast so I had to find you myself,” he spoke. When you didn’t say anything, it didn’t take him long enough to realise how you felt, “You are scared of me.”
Scoffing, you reasoned, “Who wouldn’t be? You killed a man while I was simply inches away.”
“He was hurting you,” Ivar remarked as if that was reason enough.
“But you could’ve killed me,” you argued.
Ivar grinned, “I didn’t though, did I?”
“Well… No but still, it was terrifying,” you said while Ivar made himself comfortable by sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree.
Even though Ivar worked very hard to not show it, he had been very nervous to actually talk to you. Now that you were here, he didn’t want to ever leave.
You stood there silently before sitting down in front of him. What was it about him that you felt so drawn towards?
He looked at you lovingly, “What is your name?”
“Y/N is what they call me… But I already know who you are, Ivar,” you acknowledged.
“Do you?” Ivar joked.
“That anger in those gorgeous eyes of yours, how could you be mistaken?” you replied.
“My eyes are ‘gorgeous’?” he couldn’t control his smile.
You blushed, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“I’m afraid so. I don’t mind the compliment though, please, y/n, carry on about my gorgeous eyes,” he teased. Truth was, he felt a thousand butterflies. He’d never gotten a compliment from anyone.
The two of you continued making jokes at one another, laughing constantly and time flew by ever so quickly. Ivar couldn’t believe the sun was about to set. With you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He felt at peace.
When his brothers asked where he had been, he simply smiled and shrugged. For the first time in so long, he didn’t feel furious. There was something about you, like you were a goddess who appeared to save him. The next day Ivar went up to the same place, hoping you would show up. He was almost about to leave until he saw you show up.
You finished your work as a physician for the day as quickly as you could and relied on your friends to cover up for you. Once out of Kattegat, you practically ran to the same spot on the riverbank as yesterday. You didn’t know how but you just knew that he would be there, nor did you know why you felt so eager to go to him either.
You continued these secret meetings for as long as you could. No one was aware of who or where you actually went but you didn’t care even if they found out. Ivar had become your sanctuary as you had become his.
During one such evening, as the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the riverbank, you found yourselves lost in a conversation filled with laughter. Ivar had a knack for weaving humor into every exchange, and you found yourself charmed by his wit and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement.
Ivar grinned, his eyes dancing with mirth. "See? I told you I was the funniest person you'd ever meet."
Laughing, you shook your head. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that."
His gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth filling his eyes. "I'm glad you find me amusing, y/n."
You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You have a way with words, Ivar."
He chuckled softly. "Only when I'm with you."
The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and before you could think, you found yourself leaning in closer to him.
Ivar's hand gently brushed against your cheek as he whispered, "You're beautiful when you laugh, y/n."
Unable to resist the pull any longer, Ivar reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. His touch was tender, sending a shiver down your spine as you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest.
As your lips clashed with an overdue feeling of affection for one another, Ivar kissed you passionately and possessively almost as if declaring that you were his.
You pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Ivar's eyes once more, a sense of belonging settling deep within your soul.
“I am yours, y/n, now and forever and you are mine,” Ivar’s words echoed in your heart as you buried your eyes in his, expressing a thousand unspoken words.
#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar lothbrok#vikings#vikings fanfiction#ivar x yn#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#ivar#vikings tv#vikings series
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five-star hotel // modern!ivar x reader (part two of two)
Summary: sometimes, love results in heartbreak. That’s just life, and there was nothing she could do about it. But what if the reason for her anguish was also the very same one that brought her so much bliss?
Pairing: ivar x reader
Type: miniseries (read part one right here)
Warnings: depictions of an unhealthy relationship, angst, kind of a happy ending, ooc Ivar
Word count: 5.131
Music insp.: five-star hotel playlist
A/N:
When I first started writing this story, it wasn’t meant to have a happy ending. In my head, there was no space for forgiveness. I’ve been breaking my head to turn things around so I could deliver something happier, and this is what I came up with, thus the unhealthy relationship warning and why it has taken me so long to post it. I’m sorry if I let anyone down by it.
The pictures on the moodboard are from Pinterest, and the bench one is by Will Paterson on Unsplash.
Gentle reminder that English is not my first language, and this was not proofread.
You lie so badly, pretend so badly
It's on your face, you haven't forgotten me
Different bodies, different smells to forget mine
The first time Ivar tried to leave her, he succeeded for exactly 19 days.
At the time, everything in his life was going downhill. Or perhaps he just felt so overwhelmed that it seemed like nothing was working out for him. Was it his lifelong treatment that was weighing down on him? Did he have another fight with one of his brothers? Maybe his father had let him down once again? Honestly, after all this time, he couldn’t quite place what was going through his mind then.
But, despite all the turmoil in his life, all he cared about was her. She was the only thing that mattered to him. Not his problematic family, not his overprotective mother and detached father, not his ungrateful coworkers. Her. Only her.
That’s exactly what scared him the most.
He needed Y/N. No, he craved her – her ongoing presence in his life, in his house, in his bedroom. The security of having her beside him while everything else was going to shit. A feeling he had never felt before in his life. She was his very own personal haven.
He had never planned this, to be in love.
The issue is that Ivar never realised that was exactly what he had been looking for. Throughout his life, all he ever wanted was for someone to love him past his disability, despite his difficult personality, and exclusively because of who he was. That’s exactly what he found in Y/N – he just never realised it until it was too late. Until she was gone.
Also, Ivar believed himself to be a pragmatic man.
So, one particular night, instead of calling Y/N like he wanted so badly to do, to soothe the ache in his chest like only her could, he spent the night playing out scenarios in his head. Each and every one of them ended up exactly the same way: with him being heartbroken, betrayed, left behind, abandoned. There wasn’t a single possibility of a happy ending.
The very next day, Ivar ghosted her.
However, things didn’t work out the way he thought it would.
Ivar planned everything down to every second. He had schemed his whole life – to every new scenario, he had a response ready. That’s how much he liked to be ahead of things. If something worked out differently than what he had initially thought-out, he already knew what to do. Still, none of his plans included falling in love. Not once in his life he considered the possibility of having such strong feelings towards someone he wasn’t related to, and thus morally obligated to love. Therefore, a decision that was taken in his best interest only resulted in the exact heartbreak he wanted to avoid in the first place.
In the first week, he read all of her text messages. He stared at his phone when she called, until the screen would go dark again. He listened to every single voice mail she had left, craving to hear her voice just one more time. Y/N had disappeared completely from social media, so he lived off the crumbles she was leaving him through her attempts to contact him.
That is, until even the crumbles weren’t an option anymore. After his doorman had called up to his apartment, to let him know that she’d been there to pick up her things, the text messages stopped; there were no more calls, no more voicemails. All he had from her were the memories she had left behind. It hurt more than he ever thought possible.
19 days later, Ivar was at her door, begging her to take him back.
He had meant everything he had promised her then. He really did. But then he recalled why he had left in the first place. So, he did it again.
This time around, though, things were much different. There was no news from her. She never came looking for him, never tried to contact him like she had done before. Just 45 days of radio silence. But, unlike the last time, he witnessed firsthand how she had moved on. Or as firsthand as Hvitserk’s Instagram account would allow him to.
“By the gods, Ivar!” Hvitserk snapped. “Why do you need my cellphone for?”.
Ivar had stormed into his brother’s office the moment he noticed his arrival at the company and hadn’t left since, not before he got what he came for.
“I just need to check something on your Instagram”, he replied matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal, but something he did all the time, which clearly it wasn’t.
“Please Ivar, enlighten me on what exactly is on my Instagram that’s not on yours. As far as I know, we follow the same people”, he asked, leaning back on his chair, arms crossed on his slim chest. Hvitserk knew exactly what Ivar wanted, he just wanted him to say it out loud.
“You know what, never mind” Ivar answered simply, leaning into his crutch to stand up from the chair in front of his brother. He wasn’t going to leave really, but he knew exactly how to get what he wanted from his big brother – if he had to play the “drama queen” card, then so be it.
“Why don’t you just reach out to her instead of torturing yourself like this?”, Hvitserk voiced. He just couldn't understand why his brother was putting himself through hell like this. Not that he didn’t deserve it for pulling what he did, but still.
Ivar doesn’t answer immediately, but only sits back on the chair in front of Hvitserk’s desk and stares at the other man like he just told the funniest joke.
“I suppose it would be this easy for you, huh? Just a snap of your fingers and all your women come back crawling to you”, Ivar challenged, not at all happy with the turn of the conversation.
“It’s not what I meant, Ivar, and you know it. I’m just saying that maybe if you talked things through…”
“What? She’d come back to me?” Ivar interrupts him. “She’d come back to the cripple who abandoned her?”.
“Come on, Ivar…” he starts, but he knows there’s no use. Ivar was in over his head and nothing he’d say would help him change his mind. So, instead of pressing Ivar to continue the conversation, Hvitserk just scribbles down something on a piece of paper and hands it to his little brother.
In return, the dark-haired man stares at the paper his brother handed to him, sighing with relief that he finally got what he’d come for, and could now leave.
“Your password is ‘Shaggy and Scooby’?”.
“GET OUT!”.
She hadn’t blocked him; he was certain of that much. Her profile picture still the first icon he saw every time he logged into his own Instagram account. But Ivar was indeed a very proud man and didn’t want her to know he was checking all her pictures and stories. So, he turned to Hvitserk, annoying his brother until he gave up his password.
That’s how he found out she had moved to a new apartment, on the other side of town from his own place. That she had adopted a cat, a black ball of fur named Frigga that followed her everywhere. He never thought he’d ever be this jealous of a kitty. Ivar saw all her new pictures, watched every single story she shared, he even went as far as stalking the strangers who left comments on her photos. Y/N looked even more beautiful, if that’s possible. And he was more hurt with each new day that passed.
Every morning, Ivar woke up oblivious, imagining that she was still sleeping peacefully next to him. And every morning he opened his eyes to find the space next to him empty. There was no warm body pressed up to his, no arms holding on to him for dear life, no fingers tangled in his disheveled hair. Only the ghost of her left behind, and the reality of having to face yet another day carrying that heavy loneliness on his shoulders - one he'd brought upon himself.
45 days after he had left her alone in a hotel room, Ivar was, once again, facing the abyss her absence created in his life. Honestly, he was proud of himself for keeping his distance this long. But that particular day he just couldn’t take it anymore.
He wondered if he told her he was sorry, it’d be enough for her to come back to him, to forgive his latest mistake. He wondered if he apologised, he’d once again come home to find her in his kitchen, wearing his old Zeppelin shirt. He wondered if he’d once again have the opportunity to come up behind her, slip his arms around her waist and pull her closer to his chest, his face hiding in the crook of her neck while she cooked their dinner.
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t bring himself to go home that day. The reality of getting home to an empty apartment, to yet another silent night – he just couldn’t face it. At that point, he wished walls really could talk, just so he wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not really. He woke up still feeling desolate, endured a day’s work and Hvitserk’s ongoing scrutiny, attended meetings with Ragnar, had lunch with Floki, and more than once considered quitting his job and pursuing a career away from his family’s company. However, when he entered the car, instead of telling the driver to head home, he gave him Y/N’s new address – an information he had acquired due to his pitiable stalking, helped by the fact that Kattegat wasn’t a very big town, and had very distinguishable streets, especially for him who had spent all his life there.
Ivar had felt pain in his life, but nothing compared to what her absence was doing to him. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he had reached his breaking point.
The driver had stopped the car a block away from her apartment and, while he was gathering up the courage to walk out of the car, Ivar saw her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, otherworldly to his eyes.
Y/N was at the park across the street, sitting on a bench with an open book on her lap, cellphone in hand. From afar, Ivar sees the moment she breaks into a smile that takes his breathe away. He couldn’t hear her laugh from this distance, but the magical sound played out in his head as if she was right there next to him.
As a tear slides down his cheek, Ivar signs for the motorist to drive away.
Two weeks later, he’s at her door again. A part of him can’t stop from laughing at the irony of his current situation. Almost a year before, he was at that exact same position. That time, he had waited for her for hours, and when she finally appeared, he had begged her to take him back, to accept him back into her life.
Only this time, he didn’t go in. He couldn’t bring himself to knock on her door.
Even from outside in the corridor, it was possible to hear the music and the loud voices coming from inside her apartment. She was clearly having a party – just another proof that she had, in fact, moved on without him.
Ivar raises his hand to knock on the door but can’t gather up the strength to do so. She’s got company right now. It’s better to talk when they can have privacy, right? In all honesty, he barely had the courage to come up to her apartment, let alone face her for the first time in weeks with witnesses to his misery.
So, rather than knocking, Ivar turns around and enters the elevator.
Prioritizing myself seems to choose to lose you
Don't leave me alone, leave me close to you
Bad relationships are much easier to forget
I know it's going to hurt since it was so good
When Y/N left that hotel, she promised herself she would never, ever, allow Ivar Ragnarsson back into her life again.
After she cried herself out of tears, Y/N changed out of the dress, gathered up her things and as she walked away from the building, she’d also walk away from the love she had for him.
Easier said than done.
Moving out of her old apartment and into a new one as far away from his as possible was the only way she found to distance herself from the memories that haunted her. When the loneliness in her new place became too much for her to bare, she adopted a kitty to keep her company. Little Frigga was the only light in the darkness that had taken over her life. She kept going out with her friends, as if she wasn’t dying in the inside. Her plan was simple – if she acted like everything was fine, then eventually it would be, right?
She was alright. She was alright. She was alright.
Maybe, if she repeated the words enough, it would become a reality.
What she couldn’t understand was why, after all Ivar had put her through, after all the pain, all the tears, after he had let her down and broken her heart in so many pieces she couldn’t put it back together. Even after all this, she still missed him. She still suffered for what they had and what they could’ve been. She still longed for the man who hurt her so deeply.
All Y/N wanted was to teleport back to those days where it was just the two of them. When Ivar would talk endlessly about his latest discovery on his family’s Viking heritage, and she’d listen to him intently. But every now and then she would lose herself in the depths of his blue eyes, until he’d pinch her thigh to get her attention, complaining that she wasn’t listening to him. He was an introvert to the world, but not with her. When it was just the two of them, he could talk for hours on end.
Y/N wished she could live forever in that brief moment when someone wakes up, and before reality comes crashing in. She wished she could spend all her waking minutes in that peaceful instant, when everything felt right, and she didn’t have any recollection of being rejected. Where he was still laying beside her, eyebrows frowned because they had, once again, forgotten to close the blinds in their rush to get to the bed the night before. But then she’d turn on her side, arm reaching out to him, only to find the empty space, and the realisation that no, she didn’t have a nightmare. It wasn’t a bad dream she had in her sleep, but her true reality. Ivar really wasn’t there anymore.
Other times, she wished she had never met Ivar. Y/N wished she could go back to the day they met – when she was new in town and dependent on her inexistant sense of direction. She walked into the little café seeking help, and Ivar had come for the rescue. And to change her life forever. She wished she could go back to that day, only to warn herself about the heartbreak the handsome man with those dazzling blue eyes would inflict on her.
She tried to maintain a routine, something that’d give the impression that things were normal. She woke up, got dressed, went to work. Y/N went out with her friends, attended birthday parties and celebratory dinners. She even went out to a pub one day, but the possibility of meeting Ivar or one of his brothers kept her on edge the whole time. But then the night would come again, accompanied by that never ending loneliness. She’d go home only to be suffocated by her walls, like it was closing down on her. That deafening silence that was the new playlist to her dinners, a remarkable contrast to the sound of Ivar’s laughter.
In contrast, one of the things Y/N loved to do was visiting the small park near her new place. She loved watching the kids play and listening to their giggles and laughter of pure joy brought her a peace she hadn’t felt since that fateful day. So, whenever she had a day off, Y/N would take a book and seat on one of the benches by the playground, watching the afternoon fading away.
Another thing that was helping her keep her sanity was her newfound and unexpected friendship with Hvitserk, one of Ivar’s older brothers. It started a couple of weeks after she had gotten back from her time abroad. Apparently, Ivar had finally broken down and shared with him what had happened between them, and he only wanted to check on her, make sure she was doing alright. They had been texting every day since.
Their exchange was always silly and innocent. Sometimes he’d text her about a funny Tik Tok, a show they both liked, or his opinion on a restaurant she wanted to go and, being the food driven person he was, he had already been to and had a whole essay ready about each course they served. One day, when she was reading in the park, he sent her a video of a bear cub trying to climb a wall. She laughed so hard that a couple that was walking by looked at her like she was a lunatic.
There was only one implied rule: he never, ever, mentioned Ivar to her. It was better like this - what the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel.
However, even with all her attempts to mask her true feelings, her friends still saw the truth. Even though she didn't reveal what had actually happened between her and her ex-boyfriend, it was obvious that their fairy tale didn't have a happy ending. So, Y/N's friends made it their mission to bring back the smiling girl who had left the country months before. And one of those attempts included having small gatherings in her apartment. Nothing too big, so as not to frighten her, but just something that would prevent her from being alone for too long, drowning on her sorrow.
On the one hand, Y/N felt deeply grateful to have people in her life who cared so much about her well-being, even if it made her a little upset that she couldn't hide how the breakup had hurt her as well as she'd imagined. However, other times, she wished they would just leave her be. After an especially difficult week, when even sleep didn't come easy, all she wanted was to be alone, with only little Frigga to keep her company.
Once, in one of those times when she wanted more than ever to escape, she had proof that she was worse off than even she had realized. Intending to be alone for a while, Y/N figured it would be a great idea to hide in the hallway on her floor. No one would look for her there. However, when she opened the door to her apartment, she smelled his perfume, that scent so unique it would be etched in her memory forever, the fragrance so strong it was as if he had been right there, moments earlier.
The sound of the elevator doors closing brought her back to reality. And along with it, the realization that she was going mad without him.
You’ll call pretending that nothing happened
Asking what time you can come by my place
The feeling is gone, but the lust doesn't end
This is the fifth last time
We lack compromise
When Y/N woke up that morning, she felt like that was going to be her day. The sun was out, the birds were singing, the weather was pleasant for the first time in ages. So, after having breakfast, she picked up a book and left her apartment, heading to her new favourite spot in the park.
But fate has its way of playing tricks on their subjects. And apparently, she was the chosen victim of the moment.
Just as she was walking out into the street, the lobby doors closing behind her, she saw him. Ivar was right there, standing in the sidewalk in front of the building. Cellphone in his ear as he looked down at the ground. In her back pocket, her own phone started to ring.
Ivar noticed her a moment later, his gaze meeting hers. Those intense ocean eyes staring at her for the first time in so long was enough to freeze her in place, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was about to bust out of her chest. Y/N brings the book she was holding to her chest, hugging it tight, attempting to keep her mass of feelings inside.
“Hm… Hi”, he’s the first one to break the silence, staring deep into her eyes. She notices he’s holding so tight to his crutch that his knuckles had turned white, a sign that he was just as nervous as she felt.
When she doesn’t respond, Ivar continues, “I was… hm…”, he clears his throat. “I was just about to call you”.
A car passing by breaks her out of the shock she had fallen into. Still, Y/N can’t gather up the strength to look at him, the scowl she just knew he had, and mostly to stare into those beautiful blue eyes she loved so much. Not without breaking down into tears, and she wasn’t going to let him see her cry, not because of him. Not again. Not so easily.
“I was wondering… I mean…”.
“What do you want Ivar?”, she cuts him off, her tone masking her agony for impatience.
“I just… I just want to talk”.
“Oh, now you want to talk?”.
“Please, Y/N. Just, please…”. his voice cracks, and it's clear in his tone how much he was suffering, the pain he was feeling, which surprises her. Not even in the first time he reappeared on her doorstep to mend their relationship did Ivar seem so distressed.
Watching Ivar so broken in front of her made Y/N realise something: no matter how many times he broke her heart in two, three, so many pieces, when it healed, it’d still beat only for him. It’d still crave to be close to him, to love him. But was it enough to accept him back into her life after what he’d done?
Looking around on the street, Y/N decides she would listen to Ivar and his explanation of the hell he'd put her through. She owned herself that much, as well to their years of relationship, that for most of it was a happy and loving one.
“We should probably do this upstairs” she says, turning her back on him and walking back into the building, Ivar following right behind her.
As she opens the door to her apartment, it is possible to hear Frigga meowing from inside. The kitty hated to be left by herself, even if just for a short time. When Y/N enters the living room, she is immediately attacked by a small ball of fur.
“Frigga!”, she exclaims, picking up the cat, that was currently attacking her legs, and bringing her to her face.
Meanwhile, Ivar admires the scene in front of him. Seeing Y/N so happy causes an inexplicable grip on his heart. He always knew he loved her, that was one of the reasons he did what he did - because of his fear of loving her so fiercely and not being reciprocated. However, seeing Y/N interact with the little kitty, an easy smile on her face, was a clear reminder of what he had given up in the name of doubt.
“Please, sit”, Y/N interrupts his thoughts, pointing to the couch in the living room. When he takes a sit, she follows right behind him, but chooses the armchair, preferring to keep a safe distance between them.
As she takes a seat on the armchair, Y/N takes the opportunity to really watch him for the first time. His hair was a bit longer, now loose on his shoulders instead of his usual braids, and the blue eyes she missed so much were hidden behind prescription glasses. What caught her attention, though, was the grey sweatshirt Ivar wore, one she remembered stealing from him countless times before. Even such a small detail, such an insignificant memory next to everything they'd lived through, made her heart ache.
A few minutes pass, but they remain in an awkward silence. A silence that Y/N refuses to break, however. She knew Ivar well enough to know that if given enough time, he would start talking. Besides, he was the one who came to her in the first place, so let him be the first to speak.
And that is exactly what happens.
“I-I don’t know where to start”, he confesses, looking down at his feet instead of looking at her.
“What about from the beginning?”, she proposes. “Why did you do it Ivar?”. In all honesty, she couldn't tell how she was managing to keep her calm like that, when all she wanted was to demand that he tell her the truth behind the cruelty of his actions.
“I don’t think you’d understand”, he surmises. “Not really, anyway”.
“Why don’t you try me?”, is all she says.
Another moment passes before Ivar speaks again, and when he does, his voice is choked, and his eyes shine with the tears he was trying with all his strength to hold back.
“Because my heart is broken, I’m broken”, he laments, a few tears streaming down his face. He chooses that moment to look at her, noticing how she was fighting with her own emotions.
“Why would you say that?”, Y/N demands, and then adds when he doesn’t answer her immediately, “Please, Ivar. This time at least, talk to me, you own me that much”.
Frigga chooses that moment to make her presence known. The kitty jumps on Ivar's lap, curling up on his lap and making it very clear that this is where she had chosen to take a nap. Ivar laughs at the kitty, scratching behind her little ear, causing her to purr softly.
“Ok…” he says, then.
So, they talked. They talked for hours about Ivar’s insecurities and struggles. He shared moments of his childhood that he hadn’t before – how he always felt like he lived only to try to catch up with his siblings, to show his worth and, most importantly, that his disability would never stop him from having his own achievements.
If Sigurd learned to read by the age of five, he did it when he was only four years old. If Ubbe got accepted into the most prestigious college in the country, so did he and three others. He spent half his life trying to prove that he was just like his brothers, and the other half that he was, in actuality, better than them.
However, Ivar failed to remember that life could be more than that, beyond a one-sided rivalry with his older brothers. While they focused on their personal lives, living, loving, and building their own families, he made it his mission on earth to win this competition that only he was participating in.
Until serendipity put her in his life.
He was never one to be surprised, to stray away from his life plans. But Y/N managed to break all his rules.
Even then, even after all the beautiful moments they had, even after she had caused feelings in him that he never imagined were real, he just couldn't believe that anybody would ever fall in love with him. As a consequence, he preferred to run when things were good. All because he didn't understand that when Y/N looked at him, there was nothing but love in her gaze in a way that no one had ever showed him before. Thus, his ignorance struck again, and he broke her heart.
“I-I know…”, Ivar starts. “I know you may not have it in you to forgive me and I can’t blame you”. He was fidgeting with his fingers, not able to look her in the eye. Even so, she could listen to him sniffle, watching as he ran his fingers under his eyes, cleaning the few tears running down his face. “I’ve played this out in so many ways and in none of them you forgive me. Honestly, I wouldn’t either if I were you”.
“But… I wanted to say I’m sorry and... thank you. I’m sorry for all the pain I inflicted on you and thank you for giving me the happiest years of my life”.
That was the final straw for her.
All this time, throughout their entire conversation, Y/N has been dancing in a fine line – confused between accepting what he was saying as the truth and with so taking him back into her life, like her heart was demanding her to do; or deciding with reason instead of with the heart.
But his words tore apart her indecision, deciding for her. Better yet, pushed her in the direction she knew she wanted to go, and would eventually go, the moment she invited him up to her apartment.
She launches from her spot in the armchair and straight into his awaiting arms. Ivar holds on tight to her, keeping her body as close to his as their awkward position would allow. He was still sitting on the couch, slightly hunched over in her direction. Y/N was kneeled on the floor in front of him, arms reaching up around his back, face hidden in his neck and her body shaking from the sobs cutting through her throat, little Frigga squashed between the two of them.
“I love you, I love you, I love you…”, Ivar keeps repeating, holding on to her just as hard as she was hugging him.
It was hard to tell how long they stayed like that. Holding on to each other, gluing back the pieces their time apart had broken.
Part of her believed his words, that he truly loved her. However, she knew they had a long way to go. Trust could not be restored overnight, with some sad stories and some shed tears. But the other part of her knew the immensity of the love she felt for him, and how being away from Ivar's arms would be so much more difficult than the path they had ahead of them.
Ivar had walked through hell during the time he was away from her, and he had no intention on going back. Even more, knowing how much she had suffered because of him broke a part of his heart that he was not sure would ever recover. However, he knew the fragility of what they had at that moment, but this time he would not break her trust on him. This time, he was going to keep that promise. Because he might break a bone, but he could never break a promise to her, not ever again.
Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @istorkyou @southernbe
#vikings imagines#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar imagines#modern ivar#ivar's heathen army#vikings fanfiction#vikings history#vikings#ivar the boneless#nanahachikyuu
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