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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months

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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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starogeorgina · 9 months

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Redemption

Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence

Pairing: Ivar × reader

1.01

“Ivar!”

“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”

“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”

“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”

“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.

Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.

—

You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”

“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”

Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.

“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”

“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”

“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”

“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”

Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.

It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.

—

You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.

It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.

Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.

“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.

You shrug.

“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”

Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”

Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”

“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”

“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”

—

A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”

Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.

“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.

Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.

“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”

“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”

His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”

“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”

“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”

You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”

Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.

“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.

Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”

Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”

Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”

He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.

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zapreportsblog · 7 months

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❝army of ivarrsons❞

✭ 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.

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multific · 1 year

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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.

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

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

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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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angelltheninth · 1 year

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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.

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woahhhgwendolyn · 9 months

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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.

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milkb0nny · 6 months

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The Aftermath of Intimacy

Ivar The Boneless x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 9: Aftermath

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

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

Warnings: aftercare, mentions of smut, slight nsfw

word count: 595

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

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

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

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

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

Your voice hummed, “Yeah, Ivar.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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1-800-choke-me · 2 months

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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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fragileheartbeats · 6 days

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"He's not good for yo-"

YES! but have you seen his eyes???

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ivarthebadbitch · 3 months

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Ivar the Boneless, scourge of the world...you don't need me.

#vikings #floki #ivar the boneless #gifs #floki's not the stepdad he's the dad who stepped up #(except for his own kid oops)

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ubbesbabymama · 1 year

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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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miss-madness67 · 6 months

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Mother Knows Best (Ivar)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless x you #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #vikings #ivar smut #vikings smut #ivar fluff #vikings fluff #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x female reader #vikings ivar

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