#ivar fanfiction

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unexpected

Summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected.

Beginning Notes: Inspiration hit me suddenly and I had to write this. It’s from Ivar’s POV entirely, but still a reader insert. Reader is non-descriptive apart from she/her pronouns and female body.

I'm actually so proud of myself for this one. Idk where it came from, but i think it turned out pretty decent for smut.

Warning: smut, very NSFW and a little kinky

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Taglist: @bragisrunes, @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, @alicedopey

Masterlist | Part 2 | requests are OPEN!

She’s driving him insane. This new slave from gods-know-where, always in the hall when he is, as if he wouldn’t notice the glances she steals at him.

Does she stare because he is a cripple? Because the other thralls are afraid of him and he hasn’t hurt her, yet? Or are there rumors about him from where she was taken from?

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that all his brothers don’t take him seriously when he mentions her – to them, she’s like a mouse, scurrying around underfoot, never to be noticed. Innocent like a fucking Christian.

Maybe to the eyes of others, she’s invisible, but she’s a pain to Ivar. No matter where he goes, she’s always there, whether that is actually or just in his thoughts. She’s a plague.

He can fuck her if he wants, not only because he’s a prince, but also because she is a slave. A nobody, who still stares at him. Why does it bother him so much when she does it? People have always stared at him and yet…

At least now, the hall is empty. It’s late evening, and his brothers are all occupied with lovers and wives, his mother is asleep, and most of the thralls are sleeping. Except her of course. She’s still in the hall, scrubbing away on the floor so dutifully, kneeling only a few steps away. Her eyes still flicker to him from time to time.

With a few irregular steps and muted thumps from his crutch, he stands in front of her. She pretends not to notice him, and Ivar finds it infuriating. Quickly, he grabs her jaw, tilting her face up until she’s facing him. To his surprise, there’s no fear in her eyes, she only looks momentarily startled.

“Can I help you, my prince?” she asks, and Ivar swears by all the Gods that if he has to look at her staring up at him innocently like that for one second longer, he’ll throw up on the floor she just cleaned.

“Go to my room.” He replies instead, and she gets up, gathers her skirt and walks there without question or protest.

He follows her slowly. By the time he gets to his room, she stands in the middle of it, careful not to touch any of his belongings and Ivar is glad that, for once, she looks unsure and out of place.

“Take off your dress. It’s dirty.” He says. She does as she’s told, taking her time with removing her apron and folding it, before making to move on to the dress.

“Aren’t you going to protest?” Ivar asks, surprised that she doesn’t look the least bit disgusted by him. Not like Margrethe.

“Would you like me to?” she deadpans, but Ivar thinks that he can hear a bit of snark in her voice. It almost makes him smile, until he remembers that he is a prince, and she’s a thrall.

“Get on with it.” Ivar commands.

She shrugs off her dress and shift until she’s bare in front of him, and all Ivar does is stare. Still, she stays still.

Not a christian then. Or at least not a very strict one. Ivar thinks.

“Lie down on the bed.” Ivar continues, and he’s angry that she seems surer in what she’s doing than he is, even though she isn’t doing anything but following his commands.

For a moment, he can glimpse a change in her. For a second, she looks almost excited, and not at all scared, before her face reverts back to a stony expression.

Ivar pulls himself onto the bed, and only when he’s lying right next to her does he realize that he has no idea what he’s doing.

He makes a strangled noise, one that sounds like a dying animal at a sacrifice, and Ivar is ready to take his knife and hold it against her throat when she leans over him and kisses him. For a moment, Ivar freezes, before he slaps her. Not hard, and not because he wanted to, but more because he didn’t expect this.

There’s a short pause, and then she gives a moan. It’s quiet and short but Ivar knows what it is nonetheless. He tells himself that it has nothing to do with the slap, that the moan was too disconnected, but then he looks into her eyes and blown out pupils are looking back at him.

“You liked that?” Ivar asks incredulously. For the first time, she looks a bit flustered. Then, she nods slowly. Ivar sits up, leaning against the headboard. Years of pulling himself across the floor come in handy and he grabs her by the hips, pulling her on top of his.

“Kiss me again.” He demands. She leans down, and Ivar reciprocates the kiss this time, a hand snaking to her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek, before he brings it down in a light slap again. She moans a little louder this time, beginning to grind down on him. There’s no shame in her.

“You like pain?” Ivar asks, not sure if she’s even real at this point.

“Don’t you?” she replies. He does, he supposes. Not being on the receiving end but inflicting it.

“You’re fucked up.” Ivar manages. She gives him a look that says And you aren’t?

To his surprise, Ivar begins to like her. Now that she isn’t pretending to be a ‘saint’, her company isn’t all that bad.

“What else do you like?” Ivar blurts out, before he can stop himself. A sly grin worms itself onto her face as she stretches out on his bed, as if it belongs to her.

“Let’s see.” She says. “Being manhandled. Spanking, scratching, choking-“

“Choking?” Ivar interrupts.

“Well as long as it’s not life threatening.” She shrugs. Ivar rolls over, until he’s hovering over her, and captures her lips in a kiss. Unsure, and strangly unwilling to hurt her, he begins to slide a hand down to her neck. He squeezes only a little bit, opening his eyes to make sure that she isn’t panicking.

It annoys him that she isn’t bothered by him at all, so he squeezes a little harder, until her eyes slowly open. He makes eye contact with her, and almost wishes he hadn’t, because there isn’t a trace of fear in her eyes, but the lust makes her look almost maniacal.

And then Ivar realizes that he wants to fuck her. Wanted to all along, all while she was pretending to be innocent and quiet. Not like he wanted to fuck Margrethe. This hasn’t gotten anything to do with proving something to his brothers. He wants to hold her down and fuck her into the mattress until her eyes roll back and-

She’s wriggling downwards under him, sucking on his neck and collarbones, and Ivar grabs her by the neck to push her down. She smiles at him, because she has to be insane, right?

“I need to catch my breath.” Ivar lies. What he needs is time to think. It’s obvious that she’ll enjoy most of the things he wants to do to her, and that she’s interested in him. He has to make a choice.

She lies her head down on his chest, fingers trailing down his still-clothed stomach slowly, and panic lurches in Ivar’s throat. She had to know about the rumors. Was this it? Was she Sigurd’s pet, trying to embarrass him even further for being boneless?

But then, Ivar realizes that he’s okay. It’s all going the way it’s supposed to, now he only has to get Sigurd off his mind.

The thrall is keeping herself busy, kissing down his body. Ivar wonders if she’s in love with him, or just doing this because she wants to have sex. He tells himself that he doesn’t care, but a tiny part of him wants her to love him.

Angry again, Ivar grabs a fistful of her hair and puts her where he wants her. She’s barely able to pull down his pants enough before she gives a muffled moan, taking him into her mouth. It’s almost as if she’s trying to worship him, the way she trails her tongue along his cock, before engulfing it until she gags. Ivar pushes her head down carelessly, but she doesn’t seem to mind, on the contrary, it’s only egging her on.

He falls back against the pillows, muffling a moan. Ivar wants to laugh at the irony of it, her, worshipping a cripple. When he gets close, he pulls her up to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, and her voice sounds genuinely concerned. Ivar shook his head.

“Want to cum inside you.” He manages. She grins, wiping her mouth, before she kisses him again, insistently tugging at the hem of his shirt. He lets her pull it off reluctantly.

Her smile widens and it’s at the sight of him. She licks a stripe up his neck and Ivar thinks it’s going to be too much. Still, he’s coherent enough to stop her when she tries to pull down his pants as well.

“No.” he says. “My legs.”

She nods. “Okay, that’s fine. But I can’t believe you wanted to hide this from everyone. From me.”

“I’m not yours.” Ivar snarls. Was it hurt that flashed in her eyes?

“I know.” She says, running her hands up his chest. Ivar grabs her jaw harshly.

“Lie on your back.” He commands

She complies, looking up at him with doe eyes, but this time, he doesn’t mind. Ivar pushes into her slowly, and she moans like a whore. When he tells her, hissing the words into her ear, she moans again.

This feels right. Better than Margrethe, better than Ivar had imagined.

He picks up the pace, until he’s fucking her like he wanted to moments before – or was it hours? Barely, Ivar registers her nails digging into his back, scratching down to his waist, before coming up again without rhythm or pattern.

She keeps moaning, and Ivar leans down to kiss her, sloppily, hungrily, swallowing some of the noise she’s making. He’s on the verge of cumming, even if he doesn’t want to. He wants to keep going, but his hips speed up from their own accord, going faster, deeper. Her back starts arching up, so Ivar grabs her hips and presses them back down.

His mind is completely empty, all he knows is that this is good. It’s fucking perfect. Her moans reach a crescendo, and he feels her clench around him. Is she there?

He wants to ask her, so he can know if he made her feel good, but one look at her tells him that she wouldn’t answer if he could form the question in the first place.

Ivar feels it creeping up on him, but he keeps going, grabbing her neck with his left hand, right still on her hip. Then, finally, he can’t stop himself anymore and lets go.

Moments later, he collapses on top of her. He’s still inside her, and after a few seconds, she wraps her arms around him, holding him tightly. He pulls out, lying on his back. She gives a small whine, moving closer to him again. Why?

“Was that- was it good?” Ivar asks. He’s afraid of her answer. He knows his brothers are all good and Ivar wants to be better than them at something else than strategy.

“Yeah.” She sighs, and he notices that she’s still out of breath. “But I doubt I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. Or right now, sorry.”

Still, she leans up, trying to reach her apron without moving too much.

“What are you doing?” Ivar asks.

“I need to clean this up.” She replies, motioning to her legs. “It gets sticky after a while.”

Wordlessly, Ivar pushes her back into the bed and reaches for the rag next to his basin. He has another one anyway.

He cleans her up quietly. There’s dark bruises on her hips, shaped like his hands. She flinches a bit when he touches her clit, and he’s careful to be quick about it.

When Ivar lies back down next to her, she’s smiling. Her eyes are closed, and she could be sleeping.

“Never took you for the type to clean up after themselves.” She says.

He doesn’t say anything smart back. Instead, he asks her the biggest question on his mind.

“Why did you do this? Were you looking for a quick fuck, or did my brothers put you onto this? Or are you in love with me?” Ivar asks.

“In love with you?” she replies. Her voice sounds a bit shaky. “I’m not in love with you. I just thought you’d have the same taste as me.”

He hopes she’s lying. Please, Freya, let her be lying. Let someone love me. He prays before he can stop himself. Ivar isn’t sure if he’d even love her back, but it’s something he wants to be able to say about himself. That someone fell for him like that.

While he keeps mulling over her words, she moves closer to him again. Quickly, she’s falling asleep. He could punish her, for just assuming that she could sleep in his bed. He could, but instead, Ivar moves her to lie in his arms. He smiles to himself. Despite her words, she’s here right now, holding him.

#ivar #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #ivar x y/n #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar fanfiction #ivar smut

[axxl-rose]

Not Today, My Prince

Ivar the Boneless x ofc

Word Count: 2222

Warnings: Mature language, sexual content

The raid was a complete success, and the festivities continued in Kattegat, with throngs of locals joining the Viking’s celebrations, trying to catch a glimpse of the victorious men. The music was booming, and the drinks flowed like liquid gold as Lottie sat with the Ragnarsson brothers, perched between Sigurd and Ubbe, while Ivar and Hvitserk sat across from them.

Lottie squealed, the atmosphere infecting her being. “What a raid, boys! The Ragnarsson name is truly becoming something of legend.” She praised, raising her mead in a toast.

The boys let out their cheers, raising their cups in agreement. As the men clinked their cups, Sigurd threw an arm around Lottie, alcohol and adrenaline pumping through his veins. “It was incredible out there! We could not be stopped!” He cried, his arm tightening around Lottie’s shoulders.

Lifting his drink to his mouth, Ivar froze as his icy eyes flickered to the action, taking a swig from his cup with a clenched jaw. “Yes, it was fucking incredible.” Ubbe and Hvitserk grinned at each other, sipping their drinks slowly.

Clearing his throat, Ubbe leant in close, encouraging the others to huddle in. “We would’ve been better if somebody could throw an axe,” Ubbe whispered with a smirk, peeking up at his brothers.

The group sniggered amongst themselves until Hvitserk paused. A frown on his face, he pushed Ubbe hard enough to knock him off his chair. “Oh, fuck off! My hand slipped!” Everyone laughed; even Ivar let out a chuckle as Ubbe dusted himself off the floor, shrugging with a smile.

Lottie’s laugh was contagious, a melody that echoed within your head, and Ivar couldn’t look away from her. Her eyes danced with flames and her smile glowed brighter than it. She was a sight to behold.

Noticing Ivar’s stare, Sigurd rolled his eyes. “You still chasing after my girl, Ivar?” he drawled, his speech slurred as he dropped his empty cup to the floor. Ivar snapped out of his daydream and glared at his smug brother.

Noticing the tension grow, Lottie shook Sigurd’s arm off her shoulders. “I’m not your girl anymore, Sigurd,” she reminded him, but he hummed.

The atmosphere became stiff, and the people around the group quietened, their attention focused on Ivar and Sigurd, who locked gazes, neither one prepared to back down. Abruptly, Sigurd chuckled to himself. “You’ve probably imagined fucking her before if what I’ve heard from your room has anything to do with it,” he sneered, laughter sounding from the onlookers. However, his brothers didn’t snigger, and neither did Lottie. They all knew that this would end poorly.

Shaking her head, Lottie downed her drink. “Sigurd, that’s enough,” Lottie warned, glancing at a trembling Ivar, his hands clenched on the table, his veins rising to the surface.

Sigurd ignored her, leaning across the table into Ivar’s face, his breath reeking of mead and meat. “Imagine her lying bare on the bed before you, dripping wet because she needs you so badly.”

Hvitserk placed a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, whispering pleas for him to remain calm in his ear. Yet, Ivar shook off the hand with a snarl. “You better stop, brother,” Ivar growled, his face flushed.

“Her moans echoing all around you as her tight, little pussy wraps around your throbbing cock… it’s pure heaven, I’ll tell you that.” The once giggling crowd had gone silent as Lottie stared at Sigurd in disbelief, shocked he would speak of her in such a way, especially since she was beside him. “But guess what, Ivar? You will never experience this for yourself, as someone like her would never go for a boneless cripple like you.” Sigurd scoffed, waving his arm in his youngest brother’s direction. “You can’t even get it to work anyway.”

Ivar launched himself out of his seat, only being pulled back by Hvitserk and Ubbe before he could wrap his hands around his older brother’s neck and squeeze the life from him. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that, you piece of fucking shit!”

Sigurd just laughed and stumbled away, collecting his empty cup off the floor and ignoring a screaming Ivar and a frustrated Lottie.

†

The obnoxious celebrations and sloshed partygoers were doing nothing for Lottie’s thumping headache. Sigurd was out of line with how he spoke to Ivar and talked about her. As much as she wanted to leave this place and forget this horrid night, she needed to make sure Ivar was okay.

Putting her ear to the closed door of Ivar’s room, and not hearing the tell-tale noises of swearing and smashing, Lottie knew it was safe to enter. Tip-toeing into the room, Lottie raised a brow as she found a shirtless Ivar perched on the end of his bed, head in his hands, tense and trembling.

Hearing her tentative footsteps, wide electric blue eyes met her concerned ones, his body slumping slightly. “Lottie, what are you doing in here?”

Lottie shrugged, a gentle smile decorating her face. “Thought that I would come and find you… talk to you about what happened out there.” She mumbled, twiddling her fingers as she watched the cripple stiffen again.

Ivar shook his head, a scowl on his lips. “It is not you who needs to worry about it. Sigurd was a prick; he should not have said that about you. Ever.” He spat, making Lottie giggle.

“No arguments from me.” She huffed, plopping down on the bed beside him, a creak echoing in the room.

The two stared ahead of them, saying nothing, until Ivar sighed, pushing his braids out of his face. He bit his lip, ripping the sensitive skin as his fingers drummed on the bed. “You know it’s true, right?” He whispered, staring at the flicking fire in the corner of his room as if the flames would engulf him at any moment.

The hairs on her neck stood tall as she raised an eyebrow, turning to look at the worried Prince. “What’s true?” Lottie questioned, her breath unsteady.

Ivar’s leg was twitching as he bounced it up and down, his eyes locked on the blaze, afraid to look at the woman beside him. “That I admire you…” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Well, ‘admire’ is a weak term. I’m in love with you!” He rambled so fast Lottie could barely understand the maddening man.

“Slow down, Viking!” Lottie laughed, a hand landing on Ivar’s trembling leg, causing his eyes to widen. “But yes, I knew this was true.” She admitted, giving him a cheeky grin.

Ivar froze as if ice water had drenched him from head to toe. “For fuck sakes… seriously? It was that obvious?” He groaned, pulling the ends of his hair.

Lottie giggled. “Besides the fact that you stare at me anytime I am close, you have a guard ‘secretly’ supervise me at all times, and you slaughter any man that dares approach me… yes, Ivar, you are kind of obvious.” 

Lottie tilted her head, hair draping down her back as she observed the crestfallen Ragnarrson, who had thrown himself down on the bed beside her, covering his icy eyes. Besides the dull cheering ringing from behind the closed door, silence filled the room. Sitting up straight, Lottie cleared her throat. “So, if we’re spilling secrets, I should probably admit mine.”

Ivar refused to uncover his face. “You have a secret?” She hummed in reply, staring at Ivar with a grin he could not see. A harsh breath escaped him. “Well, what is it? It could not be more embarrassing than my ‘not-so-secret’ secret.” He snorted.

“I think you’re pretty cute.” The man shot straight up, wide saucers for eyes as he gazed at Lottie. She admitted, her grin becoming a broad smile at Ivar’s reaction.

“Are you fucking with me?” Ivar whispered, his jaw dropping low.

Laughing, Lottie shook her head. “No, I’m not fucking with you.” She stated, standing up in front of him, nudging his useless legs apart so she could position herself between them. Ivar choked on air. “I’ve thought you were pretty cute for a while now, but seeing you stand up to Sigurd, getting all angry…” She sighed, shaking her head. “It was sexy.”

She was entrancing him like she always had, but hearing Lottie confess her attraction for him aroused Ivar like nothing had before. His dreams were coming to life before his very eyes.

Her soft hands rested on his bare, shuddering shoulders, feeling them relax under her tender stroking. “And it turned me on…” She paused, contemplating as she stared into his foggy, blue eyes as if searching for an answer. “I want us to fuck, Ivar. I want you buried inside me while I scream your name.”

“Am I dreaming?” he whispered, gazing up as if Lottie was Freya, Goddess of Love and Death, preparing to claim him as her own.

Lottie straddled Ivar’s lap, pressing their bodies together, feeling their hearts beat in unison, hammering like Thor was striking them himself. “Not today, my Prince.”

She could feel his solid erection against her core, making her raise a brow as the rumours surrounding Ivar’s condition have always made her curious. Testing the waters, Lottie firmly ground her hips down in one smooth motion, making Ivar groan, throwing his head back with his eyes closed.

Suddenly, they snapped back open. The realisation that he could be aroused by a woman… by Lottie… was all-consuming. His lips began to tremble, and his jaw slackened. Ivar gazed at the smirking Lottie as if she held the sun and stars only for him. Letting out a deep huff, his hands gripped her hips as she continued her slow movements. “Fuck, Lottie.” He panted, pleasure overtaking all his senses as his head dropped against her stomach.

“Hey,” Lottie whispered, pulling his head back up. Ivar’s eyes were drooped in lust, pupils wholly dilated. “If I’m going to ride you, you will look at me while I do it.”

Ivar thrust up against her on instinct, her sultry words going straight to his throbbing dick.

Leaning down, Lottie placed her lips firmly on Ivar’s. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her flush against his bare chest, grinding up against her as he did. Lottie whined into his mouth, the dominant movement making wetness pool in her trousers. His hands roamed her thighs as their tongues swirled around each other. Lottie’s hands began to wonder, trailing down his broad frame to his cock, giving it a testing squeeze.

Ivar groaned, but pulled Lottie away, making her frown. “Okay, okay... We need to stop.” Ivar wheezed, his eyes avoiding hers as he looked to the ceiling.

Grabbing the Viking’s chin, Lottie stared Ivar dead in the eye. “What the fuck are you talking about?” She questioned, still huffing. “You are Ivar Lothbrok, correct? The man who’s been following me around like a puppy since we met?”

Ivar grumbled, lying back against the bed and covering his eyes. “I know, I know! This is literally my fucking wet dreams coming to life.” He growled, the noise going straight to her core.

Lottie’s thighs felt cold now without Ivar’s warm hands caressing her. “Then, what’s the issue here, Ivar?” She mumbled, confused beyond belief.  

Throwing his hands up in the air and slamming them down on the sheets, Ivar let out a yell. “Fucking Sigurd!”

Taken aback, Lottie rose an eyebrow at Ivar, her face forming a snarl. “Sigurd? Sigurd is why you won’t fuck me! Why are you even thinking about him when I’m straddling your hard-on? Desperate to fuck you!” She cried.

Ivar sat up on his forearms, a frown on his face as he looked at the girl of his dreams. “Because he has had you in ways I cannot, that I do not think I can.”

Lottie shook her head with a soft laugh, hair dangling before her eyes as her hands started to move over Ivar’s chest. “You are the object of my desire. You, your inner power, your fighting spirit is what I have craved for many years. I do not want, Sigurd. I want you.” She declared as Ivar’s hands unconsciously moved up her thighs again.

“Yes, but…”

Lottie cut him off. “No but’s.” Removing her hands from Ivar’s chest, Lottie moved up to her shirt, slipping it off her flushed skin. “Right now, it’s you and me.” Ivar was mesmerised once more as more of Lottie’s skin displayed. “There’s no Sigurd…” She whispered, throwing her shirt to the side, leaving her breasts bare before him, peaky nipples hard in the open air. “There’s no other Ragnarsson…” Ivar’s hands trailed up her warm stomach and cupped her chest, making her bite her lip. “It’s just you and me.”

Ivar nodded absently, his fingers circling her nipples as he held her breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently. “Just you and me.”

“That’s right, Lothbrok,” Lottie smirked, reaching beneath her and stroking his erect member. “So, are we going to talk about Sigurd, or are you going to fuck me?” She squeezed him, locking eyes with Ivar, who was struggling to maintain eye contact with her bare breasts in front of his face.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that the only man’s name you’ll ever be able to say is Ivar.”

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar fanfiction #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x ofc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok x ofc #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar ragnarsson x ofc #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings #vikings x ofc #vikings x reader #ragnar lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #hvitserk ragnarsson #sigurd ragnarsson

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Please could I request Ivar with-

Person B washes person A's hair. 💕

Request Info

Gentle Hands

Contains:Fluff

306 words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed

Ivar washes your hair

The bath in Rollo's palace was insane. It would have fit ten people but right now, it was just you and Ivar. He had pulled you from your shared bedroom with a huge smile on his face, insisting that he show you something on another level of the building.

When you got to the room, he opened the door and the smell of herbs and steam hit you in the face full force, "it's been a long journey, wife, do you care for a bath?"

Now you were sitting behind him with his hands in your hair as he rubbed your scalp, "did you bring me here just to wash my hair?"

Ivar chuckled, "yes and no, we did need a wash but selfishly, I do love it when you allow me to do this."

You leaned back into his hands as he used a cup to rinse the sudsy wash away, then he combed through a mix of oils and fats with his hands, making sure that every strand was coated before spinning you around to talk to you while it sat for a while. "Do you think this will all go well?"

Ivar nodded, "of course, Rollo knows what we want, peace is the only way forward."

You smiled, "I think we should make a sacrifice when we return home, to thank the Gods for allowing our people to have a way to live the way your father wished."

Ivar smiled, "yes, good idea. Now let me finish your hair."

You turned back around and Ivar's fingers found your hair, washing out the thick cream the gentle affection. "I am excited to sleep in a bed after all that time at sea." Ivar smiled, resting his head back against the edge of the tub once your hair was done.

"That makes two of us."

Fin

#ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfiction #ivar fanfic #ivar x you #ivar x y/n #ivar x oc #vikings series #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine #vikings fandom #ivar #fluff #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #vikings fic #sp's curly hair drabbles

[bouncehousedemons]

Milk

Rating: E Pairing: (Modern) Ivar the Boneless x female character (second person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus Word count: 450

Summary: Ivar hates milk. Until he tastes it on your lips.

Read the full fic here.

#vikings fan fiction #vikings history #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar fanfiction #ivar's heathen army #vikings ivar #ivar x you #vikings fic #vikings history channel #vikings fandom

[deceitfuldevout]

Deceitfuldevout's Vikings Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-shots:

What Makes A Woman? - Dark!Ivar x Lagerthasdottir!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703920915905396736/what-makes-a-woman?source=share

Apex - A/B/O!Vikings AU:Dark!Ivar x General!Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703921560316198912/apex?source=share

Little Bird - An Ivar and Ramsay imagine - Gray!Ivar x Reader x Dark!Ramsay: 🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703922770148540416/little-bird?source=share

Promise Me - Modern!Vikings AU: Dark!Ivar x Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703924864080281600/promise-me?source=share

His Name is Ivar - Dark!Ivar x Ex!Reader: 🔞🖤❤️ https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703982568381546496/his-name-is-ivar?source=share

Play Me a Tragedy - Dark!Ivar x Wife!Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/726280849102962688/play-me-a-tragedy?source=share

Series:

Dear Brother - Modern!Vikings AU: Dark!Ivar x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707809377467432961/dear-brother-masterlist?source=share

#dark!ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar fanfiction #dark smut #dark!fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark!ivar lothbrok #dark!ivar lothbrok x reader #dark!ivar the boneless #dark!ivar x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #vikings #alex hogh anderson #dark!ivar the boneless x reader #dark!ivar ragnarsson x reader #dark!ivar ragnarsson #my work #my works #vikings tv series

[bteezxyewriter12]

Reunited

Pairing- Ivar x Named Reader

Word count- 2.2k

Includes- Battle, death, killing, blood, angst

*For the end of the story I got the words Ivar says from the show. I am not that good at writing dialogue 😃

Ivar POV

"NO!", I scream

I watch as a Saxon soldier turns her around and stabs his sword through her abdomen, coming out of her back

I push through the fighting to get to her

My shieldmaiden

My wife

The love of my life

She lifts her arm up, stabbing her knife deep in his neck

She screams in his face, bringing her knife across his neck, blood spurting as he screams in pain

She lets go of him, him falling to the side

I am almost to her

She collapses on her knees, pulling the sword from her body

She cannot die

She cannot

I cannot live without her

She is my everything

If she dies, I have nothing to live for

She sways to the side and I get to her just in time

Grabbing her, I pull her to me, sitting down in the dirt and mud, holding her in my arms

"Joanne. You are alright. You will be alright", I say, tears blinding me

"Ivar-", she whispers

"No. Love no. You are alright", I cry, looking at her wound

She is bleeding profusely and I press my hand against the wound to try to stop the bleeding

"Ivar. I....I love you", she coughs, blood falling from her mouth

"No. Please do not leave me. Please. I need you."

"You...you will....be fine.", she struggles to say, "You are...I...Ivar the Boneless. You will win. You...you will....survive"

I sob, shaking my head, "No. I will not be fine Joanne. Not without you. Never without you"

"I..I...I will see you again", she says

I know

We will be together in Valhalla

It is just the waiting in between that will kill me

The pain of not having her in this life

The pain is already overwhelming

I force a smile, "Yes my love. You are going to Valhalla with the gods. The valkyries will take you to Odin's hall where you will feast with them."

She smiles, nodding, "Yes. I....I...wwww ...will wait for you"

"Yes my love. I will come and we will be together forever", I tell her

I kiss her lips softly, feeling her kiss me back for the last time

That thought shatters my heart

This is the last time I will kiss her

"I love you. So much", I tell her

"I llll....love you Ivar. Always"

"Always", I repeat to her

Her breath slows as she tries to get more air, pain in her face

"It is alright my love.", I whisper, running my fingers in her hair, "You can go. Go with the valkyries. Rest baby"

She closes her eyes and a few minutes later she stops breathing

"Joanne?", I whisper

She does not answer

"My love?", I try again, hoping against hope that she is not dead

Just sleeping

I shake her arm but nothing

She is gone

She is really gone

I let out a wail of pain and grief, pulling her close, burying my face in her neck as I cry harder than I ever have

I do not care about the battle around me

I do not care if I die

I want her

I want to be with her

"No please", I sob, "I love you. Please come back."

I know I told her she can go

And I do not want her to be here in pain

But I miss her already

So much

"Ivar!"

I feel someone pulling my arm

Pulling me back from her

"NO!", I roar, pulling my arm from whoever it is and wrapping it back around her

I cannot leave her here

It is my fault we are here

She wanted to stay in Kattegat

Live a normal life with me

But I, I was obsessed with coming to Wessex and defeating Alfred

She came with me in spite of what she wanted

She fought for me

And she died

For me

I should of stayed with her in Kattegat

"Ivar what are you doing?"

Hvitserk

It is Hvitserk

He comes around to my other side

"We are in the middle of a battle. Get up!"

"She is gone", I sob, looking at him, "She is dead"

"What? Who?"

He looks down, his eyes widening seeing her in my arms

"Jo?", he whispers, "She is...no she is not"

"She is. She died in my arms Hvitserk. What do I do? I need her. I do not know what to do without her."

Hvitserk looks around panicking, "We have to leave. We have to get out of the battle"

"I will not leave her!", I shout

"No. No Ivar. I will carry her. You get up and head for the trees"

No

I am not letting her go

"She stays with me"

"Ivar!", Hvitserk yells desperately, "You cannot carry her. I will. I will not leave her. I swear. But we have to go now"

He is right

I have no choice

I cannot carry her because of my stupid legs

I have no choice but to trust him

"If anything happens to her-"

"It won't. Let's go"

I let him take her from me and I watch him stand up, carrying her

I stand up and he nods, turning from me and heading quickly towards the trees

I move as fast as I can following him

"Back to the camp", he calls to me, heading that way

I leave the battle, not caring about the outcome

All I care about is her

----------------------------------------------------

I look down at her

She looks like she is sleeping peacefully

Not like she is dead

Today is her funeral

Today I have to say goodbye to her for the last time

The shieldmaidens did a good job preparing her

They cleaned her, put her in her armor, braided her hair

Her shield is next to her, her sword in her hand

Her axe is on her other side, her dagger next to it

Her wedding ring glints in the sun, her arm ring glittering as well

The shieldmaidens and warriors have put trinkets on the pyre with her

Combs, jewelry, food, weapons

She was a shieldmaiden all her life, fighting alongside them, alongside me, my brothers

She was an important part of Kattegat, a skillful commander

She will be missed

To me she was much more

She was my wife, my one true love

My biggest supporter

She believed in me, no matter what, stood by my side whether I was wrong or right

She loved me unconditionally, she never saw me as a cripple, never treated me differently from anyone

She was the best person I have ever met

And I am so grateful that she was mine and I was hers

"I love you so much", I whisper, "You are my everything. I am so lost without you. I look forward to the day I can be with you again"

Leaning down, I kiss her forehead, then step back, holding out my hand for the torch

My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes again

I have not stopped crying since her death

I have never felt pain like this

Not even with my legs

This pain is worse, immense, never fading

I wake up missing her, my heart broken

All day, everyday

A piece of me died with her

There is a huge hole in my heart and I will never be complete until I see her again

I hear a woman singing in our language, sending prayers to the gods, asking for her swift journey to Valhalla

"Goodbye my love", I choke

I light the pyre, leaving the torch, then moving back

The shieldmaidens knotch lighted arrows, aiming at the pyre

At the signal, they loose their arrows into the pyre, alighting it in fire even more

I will stay here until there is nothing left

Until everything has burned and she is truly gone

And then, I will turn my attention to revenge

And topple the Saxon rule

----------------------------------------------------

Hvitserk falls, looking around the battlefield tiredly

He is exhausted

I walk out into the battlefield, determined to make Hvitserk retreat

His time is done

I stand in front of him as he rises

He looks at me and moves to go around me

"No! No! No! No. No, brother. You’ve done your work. Do not interfere anymore."

Realization fills Hvitserk's eyes and he shakes his head

"All my life has been a preparation for this moment. Stay back."

"Your eyes are blue, Ivar.", he whispers, fear in his eyes, "Not today. Not today, Ivar. No."

Yes today

I know Hvitserk and I have had a tumultuous relationship

Betraying each other, fighting each other

But we always found our way back to each other

He is my only brother who has stood by my side

And while I am excited to see her again, I am sadden that I have to leave Hvitserk

But I knew, I knew today is the day

I planned for it to be today

I tried

I tried to live without her

The past month has been torturous

Waking everyday, remembering she is not there takes my breath away every time

I cannot handle it anymore

I have no interest in living

No purpose

She truly was the reason for everything and without her nothing is worth it

I know Hvitserk knows I am going to her

The look on his face tells me he knows

And I have to say goodbye to him

"I love you brother", I whisper, pressing my forehead to his

"I love you", he whispers back, closing his eyes

I let him go, telling him to leave, to go back

He backs away, his eyes on me

I turn from him and stand in the battle field

"I am Ivar the Boneless!", I yell, in my language, "You know who I am! You know you can't kill me! No matter how hard you try! Because I will live forever!"

I will live forever

With her in Valhalla

I watch my warriors swing their swords, stabbing and cutting heads off

I scream loudly, laughing, urging them to fight

"Are we afraid of death?", I bellow, banging my chest with my sword, "No! We do not intend to die in our beds as old men, but sup with our loved one in Valhalla!"

I yell a warrior cry, turning around

A young frightened Saxon warrior is standing in front of me, holding a dagger, his hands shaking

I look at him, slightly shaking my head

"Don't be afraid", I say, smiling

His arm grabs my shoulder and I feel quick stab after stab, over and over, in my stomach, his knife burying to the hilt every time

Just as fast as he was there, he is gone

Blood spurts from my mouth as I turn around

I see Hvitserk kneeling on the ground

"Brother", I say smiling

My ankle gives, cracking, pain flaring along my leg as I yell, falling to the ground

I feel myself being lifted into arms and when I open my eyes I see Hvitserk

"Ivar", he sobs

I hear him but I look around, searching

Searching for her

Hoping she will come and get me

"Ivar"

I hear her voice

I struggle to turn my head toward her voice

"My love"

I look up, seeing her over me, kneeling next to me

"Love", I whisper

"What?", Hvitserk says

"Ivar, what did you do?", she asks, her fingers touching my face

Oh my gods I can feel her again

"I...I could...not live without you", I cry, tears of happiness at seeing her again running down my face, "I tried. I did. I could not. I was so lost"

"Do you see her?", Hvitserk asks through his tears, "Do you see Joanne? Is she here?"

"Yes", I answer him, staring at her

"You are not lost Ivar", she says softly

"Am I going with you?", I ask hopefully

She smiles, nodding, "Yes my love. I have come to take you with me to Valhalla."

I smile, so happy I can be with her again

"Your father is there. So is your mother. They have been keeping me company while I waited for you"

I am glad my parents are there

I cannot wait to see them

But I need to know if she will be there with me

"Will you stay?"

"Yes my love. We will be together forever."

I nod, peace coming over me

"Jo?", Hvitserk says, "Take care of him. He misses you so much."

She looks at Hvitserk, nodding at him

I do not know if he can see her

"Go Ivar. She came for you. Go be with her. I know that is what you want most"

It is

"I swear. People will know of Ivar the Boneless", Hvitserk whispers

I close my eyes, feeling my body relax

"My love"

My eyes open again, to her holding her hand out

I take it and stand up

Looking around I see the battle has stopped, everyone looking behind me

I turn to see Hvitserk crying over my body

I am dead

"Ivar"

Turning back to her, I smile, pulling her to me, my lips against hers

Feeling her kiss me back revives me and I am back where I belong

With her

"Are you ready Ivar?"

I nod, "Yes. Whenever you go, I will"

She smiles, squeezing my hand, leading me away

And I follow

@e-m-christina

#ivar fanfic #ivar the boneless #ivar fic #ivar fanfiction #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #vikings fic #vikings

[capncassas]

Online Dating | Ivar x You

• 1 k

• Pairing: Modern!Ivar x You x Reader Imagine

• Warnings: None. It’s pretty fluffy.

• Summary: You’ve been trying out online dating for a while now, and when you get shot down, a message for Ivar makes you feel a teensy bit better.

• No beta, I edit and proofread my own stories, any errors found are all mine.

• Please do not repost my writing anywhere else. If you would like to be added/removed from my Ivar taglist my DM’s are open.

Online dating felt so easy. It was the meeting part that scared you. You weren't trying to catfish anyone, that wasn't the case. There were plenty of different pictures of you on your bumble dating profile. Of course, you use the best ones with all the good angles for your display picture and mostly, guys seemed very receptive, and they didn't make comments like, 'you look bigger in your other photos'. When a guy was rude to you, you just stopped responding.

Men should have been well aware that there were certain things you just did not say to a woman and commenting on her size was definitely at the top of the list.

You weren't big, but you definitely weren't small either. For a boost of confidence that was necessary, you called yourself a mid-size baddie.

Today, however, was one of those days. It didn't seem to matter that you wore your best confidence boosting clothes, listened to your hype songs, it just was not working and because you were a glutton, you posted to your bumble account with a selfie of you lying on the couch in your slouch around the house clothes, one shoulder of your worn out nightly shirt hanging off, no makeup, and your hair up in a messy bun.

'If you want the real thing, this is it and if you can't handle my bad days? GTFO.'

Last night you met a guy, someone you started talking to online. You thought things were going well but at the end of the date he said he was sorry but, he didn't want to see you again. You looked way different from your pictures on the app and it wasn't fair that you tricked him.

Tricked?

He referred to your weight, which you made no secret. There were plenty of pictures of you that did not flatter your figure.

You had been talking almost every day for a month. You even exchanged numbers and talked on the phone and he was still hung up on a picture. An idea... that he made up in his own mind. That was his irresponsibility. He placed you in a box you didn't fit in.

Afterward, you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you and sighed as the doorbell rang. That would be your takeout. Climbing up from the cushions of the overstuffed sectional, you went to the door, issuing a quick thank you to the grub hub driver already walking to his car after dropping off your order on the doorstep.

Pasta, and a double portion of it, was the only thing that would get your dopamine levels out of their rut.

Your self-esteem took a massive fucking hit.

There was a very real reason you put off meeting in person. You needed a man to understand that you did not weigh a buck twenty-five, no matter how flattering the angles of many of your photos. Every woman wants to look good in pictures. Bigger women were no exception to that rule. You needed to get to know the person on the other end of the app and talk to them. To connect with them on a deeper personal level, so when you did finally decide to meet in person, then there were no surprises and you could get over your first date nerves and have a great time.

Last night was NOT that night.

You took your takeout into the kitchen. Penne Vodka would be for later tonight. Right now, you wanted the angel hair pasta in butter garlic sauce with grilled chicken and broccoli. The place where you usually ordered the most knew your order so well, despite ordering through a delivery app. They always included some bread rolls butter.

Yes, it was going to be a HIGH carb day.

With your plate and fork, you padded barefoot into the living room again and flopped onto the couch. You grabbed the remote and went through the streaming apps on the television. The Lost Boys won, and you settled back into the couch to watch, twirling the pasta around your fork.

Several hours passed before you looked at your phone again, but as the movie ended and you had cleaned up your lunch dishes, you laid back down on the couch, propping yourself up as you glanced at your phone.

: New Message from BoneMan:

Bone man? That wasn’t the most creative name, but you opened the app and went to your messages to see what it said.

The apps message center was much like many other dating apps. The message center was simulated to look like you were just texting someone and as you tapped on the message, you read.

“I don’t know what man pissed you off, but I see nothing in that picture you posted I couldn’t handle daily. You look beautiful.”

Part of you was torn–completely. One side felt better. At least someone understood, and they were seeing the real you in that picture. You would not be decked out to the nines every single day and what you looked forward to was the every day. When you spent enough time with someone to let them inside your walls. Being comfortable with someone. That was what you craved.

The second part of you was so damn tired of this app, of trying to make it work when obviously the guys weren’t interested in something much deeper than a booty call when they were bored. It felt like BoneMan could either be doing the later or he was being honest. Right now, you didn’t know if you had the energy to find out.

You inhaled slowly, pursing your lips before setting your phone aside once more. In one respect he was right. You are beautiful. You know you deserve so much better than what you are being given, but today – you were just going to relax and get that much needed mental and physical energy back which was obviously wasted on a piece of poop guy the night before.

Maybe tomorrow you’d try again. Maybe give this BoneMan a shot.

_________________________________________________________

The Bone Ladies: @youbloodymadgenius @draculasbride-blog

@smears-and-spots

#Online Dating #Ivar the Boneless #Ivar Ragnarsson #Ivar Fanfiction #Ivar X You #Ivar x Reader #Reader Imagine

[vikingsmasterlist]

Rain

(Ivar.OFC)

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

#ivar the boneless #ivar fanfic #ivar fanficiton #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar the boneless fanficiton #ivar the boneless fic #ivar fanfiction #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #historical fanfiction

[undiscovered-horizon]

"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

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

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

[multific]

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  

#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

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Summer Rose - An Ivar the Boneless/Reader Smut Short.

Bit of smut and fluff, some softer Ivar? I was feeling a certain way about him today, so now so can you, too!

Words - 633

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Ivar is a man who wears many faces. The unflinching stare of contempt perhaps being his most famous, or the unnerving grin of a man working four steps ahead of his enemies. For you, though, your favourites are the ones he saves for when the two of you are alone.  

The look of sheer bliss as you top him is perhaps the one you love most. 

“Fuck, my love. How good you feel around my cock.” The words pour from his beautiful, full lips like wine, his hands grasped tight upon your hips while you work in serpentine against him. His thick cock ruts you fully, hitting every angle, every depth, your body cast in pure gold from the firelight, the sight of you atop him warming his heart as much as it does feed his lust.  

For this Viking, he never thought love could match the roaring flare of carnal desire, until he met you. Until you showed him, told him, made him feel it in his very bones. It mingles in waves of ebullient delight, his thumb moving to drag heat across your aching bud, sparks roaring up your spine as you cry out.  

“You are always at your most beautiful when you...” he trails off, his words deafened by your ascension, grinning with a deep chuckle as he witnesses it, your complete undoing that leaves you a shaking wreck atop him. “...when you fall apart like that for me.” 

Gathering yourself, you continue to roll your hips against him, wanting for his own pleasure to streak through him wildly, his eyes closing tightly as he groans, deep and rolling, whispering curses as the flutters of your cunt make lightning begin to flicker within his depths.  

His mouth drops open, panting hard, the icy shards that are his eyes opening to fix you with a lust drenched stare, the thickness of him splitting you wide causing pleasure to spark over your nerves, hitting the heights of a swirling tempest again with him as he fills you with thick ropes of hot spend.  

“Gods,” you breathe, fingers weaving through his as you chuckle, “I am tired now.” 

“Hardly surprising,” he pants, pulling you to him, offering kisses steeped in soft heat. “Come, love. Let me make you comfortable.” You climb from him, carefully taking to your back, Ivar pulling the pelts and blankets up over your legs, arranging the pillows plumply beneath your head. When he gazes down at you, you feel as if your heart could burst.  

He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your neck, his hand slipping down to stroke the rounded swell of your belly, shifting to kiss it. A tiny foot kicks against his mouth. “Child, you dare kick your father in the face?”  

Your laughter fills the room, Ivar prodding your bump with his finger, waiting for it. A tiny foot kicks back immediately. “She is all fire, just like her mother.”  

Ivar has stated with every confidence ever since you told him you were with child that she would be a girl. He felt it, knew it, he said, that your first would not be a son. Unlike many of his brethren who keen for an heir, he did not care an ounce that your baby would be female. “You will be a fine fighter, a fearless shieldmaiden, my little summer rose. You will be all that your mother is, and so much more. I know this, my tiny daughter. I long for the sun to grace our lands once more, for that is the time I shall meet you at last.”  

Watching him talk to your baby, seeing the look of complete adoration as he strokes your belly, you change your mind. Of the many faces Ivar wears, it is this one you love the most.  

#ivar the boneless fanfiction #vikings fanfiction #alex hogh andersen #ivar ragnarsson fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless smut #vikings smut

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unexpected: Part 4

Summary: Ragnar returns, angst ensues (yes, he has that effect).

Notes: How do we feel about the reader finding out she’s preggers while Ivar is gone? (no, he won’t die on the raid)

Tagged: @bragisrunes @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @alicedopey @draculasbride-blog

Masterlist | Part 3 | requests are OPEN!

Ivar had been undressing her in the stables when Hvitserk had burst in, looking up at the ceiling because this was his little brother and not Ubbe, to tell him the impossible: Ragnar Lothbrok had returned to Kattegat.

She blushed furiously as she pulled one of her new dresses over her shoulders and helped Ivar with his crutches, but Hvitserk smirked at him knowingly.

“Should I accompany you?” she asked. Ivar shook his head.

“Go tell my mother.”

She nodded, leaving for the Great Hall, while he and Hvitserk went in a different direction.

“So when are you marrying her?” Hvitserk asked.

“I won’t.” Ivar replied simply.  Despite their father waiting for them at the other end of the town, Hvitserk stopped dead in his tracks.

“Why?”

“Mother made me promise I wouldn’t.” Ivar admitted, walking on. “And anyway, why do you care, hm?”

Hvitserk shrugged. “I want her as my sister-in-law.”

“I am not Ubbe.” Ivar hissed.

“I like her. She is kind, and I want to eat the bread she makes for the rest of my life. You should commit to her, tell mother that you truly love her.” Hvitserk insisted.

“For bread?”

“There’s been worse reasons.” Hvitserk laughed. His smile died down when they saw the crowd that had gathered around their raging father. Ivar caught the disappointment in Hvitserk’s eyes. But not him. This was what he had expected.

The people of Kattegat let his brothers through easily, but Ivar had to push his way through. His eyes met Ragnar’s the first time when he shouted, “Who wants to be king?”

For a moment, Ivar felt a rush, wanted to reach forward and take the sword that was offered to him, before he froze. He wasn’t stupid. So he let Ragnar throw his tantrum and embarrass himself, while he stayed still and let his mannerisms wash over him.

In eight years, nothing had changed about his father.

Aslaug’s POV:

Ivar’s girl came running into the Great Hall suddenly. She looked out of breath, for more than one reason. It seemed that once her youngest son had discovered he was a man, Ivar was insatiable.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Ragnar Lothbrok has returned to Kattegat.” She managed. Aslaug froze.

She was queen. Had been for the last eight years – Ragnar couldn’t just take that from her now.

“Prepare for a feast. Then come help me dress.” She commanded. Then, Aslaug left the room to go to her own chamber. With steady hands, she removed her current jewelry, searching for something more imposing. She wanted Ragnar to know that it was her who had built Kattegat into a trading center in the last eight years.

Ragnar made it to the room before she could. Aslaug slipped on the jade bangle that Ivar had gifted her, coming from a kingdom whose name she couldn’t begin to say. He slipped into the room like a shadow, quiet.

“My wife,” Ragnar greeted her. “And mother of my sons. We both know that love was not what brought us together. But you’ve endured me. You’ve suffered my words, and my neglect. Yet you never turned our sons against me. I am sure that there are times when you’ve hated me. But you never poisoned their minds, or stopped them from loving me. And for all of that, with all of my heart, I am grateful to you.”

She could feel his hands on her, fumbling with her hair and Aslaug wanted to turn around and scratch his eyes out. He continued, unbothered, even kissing her hair. He fucking petted her, like she was a dog, and Aslaug hoped that the Gods would strike him down where he stood. Yet, she didn’t move.

“Why are you saying this now?” Aslaug asked instead. Before he can reply, the slave returns, carrying her finest coat. She froze at the sight of Ragnar, standing behind her.

“Apologies, my queen.” She mumbled. Aslaug felt relief wash over her, and pride fill her. This slave saw her as queen of Kattegat, and not Ragnar as King. She didn’t even know a time where Ragnar had ruled here.

She laid down her coat before making to leave, but Aslaug stopped her.

“Stay.” She commanded.

The slave nodded, moving towards Aslaug, who stood from her seat abruptly. She could feel the chair hit Ragnar’s thigh. He took a step back, and Aslaug allowed herself to smile.

“This is Ivar’s slave.” She told Ragnar, who nodded. Before the slave could turn away, Ragnar caught her jaw in his hand. For the first time, Aslaug wanted to side with her.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Y/N.” she replied. There was a pause at the end, and it was clear she wasn’t sure how to address him.

“What are you to my son?” Ragnar asked her.

“It would be better to ask him, I am but a slave.” She replied, avoiding his question. Ragnar rolled his eyes, suddenly bored and let her go. Aslaug stepped toward her, challenging Ragnar. He scoffed, and left the room.

“Thank you.” The slave said, her voice almost a whisper.

“We are still both women.” Aslaug shrugged.

Ivar’s POV:

She looked shaken when she came back to him, and he immediately knew that Ragnar had something to do with it. The entire way to the lake, she hadn’t said a word.

“Did he do something to you?” Ivar asked.

“He just- he’s very intimidating.” She replied. “But that’s to be expected of someone like him, I suppose.”

“And I am not intimidating?” Ivar poked.

“To others maybe.” She replied. “But?” Ivar challenged.

“I could see right through you.” She laughed. “He’s like a wall.”

They sat at the lake in silence for a while. Her head was on his lap for once, and Ivar combed through her hair gently while he tried to bring up the courage to tell her. He had agreed on it with his father in the morning, right after his return. It was late afternoon now, and Ivar still couldn’t bear to tell her.

He didn’t want to hurt her, but he needed to do this.

“I’m going to England.” He told her quietly.

“Is Ubbe going to lead the raid? Or you?” she asked. She had no idea.

“My father. Ubbe isn’t coming.” He said. Abruptly, she sat up.

“No.” she replied.

“No?” Ivar asked. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean that the others talk. No one takes him seriously, after what happened in the town square. He’ll have to pay people to come with him.”

She looked at him intently, until her expression shifted, and she realized.

“You knew that.” She said. “You knew.”

“It’s my only chance to die with honor.” Ivar sighed. He saw horror take hold of her.

“That’s not true!” she argued.

“It is.” Ivar replied, feeling his fist dig into the soft ground beneath them.

“So you mean to leave me here? Alone? What will I do?” she asked. Ivar’s stomach sunk. He hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t say anything and for a while, he let her seethe with an anger that normally radiated off of him.

“I won’t let you go.” She decided. Ivar barked a cold laugh at her.

“You can’t stop me. You’ll return to your duties, and I’ll have Hvitserk and mother look after you.” Ivar told her. That would be the end of it, and she’d let him go without having his stomach turn into knots.

“No. I’m not letting you leave Kattegat.”

“You forget yourself.” Ivar roared. “You are a slave.”

She didn’t say anything, instead getting up. Then, despite what it could mean to her life, she spat at his feet.

“Fuck you, Ivar Lothbrok. I really thought you cared.”

He sat at the lake alone, until it got cold, stewing in his anger. He didn’t want to hurt anyone when he got home. And when he wanted to get back, his anger only grew again.

Normally, she helped him walk over the soft ground around the lake. He hadn’t dragged himself through the mud in months. He gritted his teeth together and began, ignoring the pain in his knees and shins, knowing that he would have to command her to take care of him later. She wouldn’t do it from her own volition, like normally.

He was halfway through the part of the way that had mud when he heard voices. Embarrassed, he turned around, seeing Ubbe and Hvitserk come towards him. Not this, not now.

Their laughter died down when they saw Ivar, his face marred with anger and completely alone. They looked at each other and then, wordlessly, they came towards him and lifted him up, helping him. Hvitserk didn’t mention ‘his girl’ and Ubbe gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

They carried him until he could walk again, and then, Ubbe handed him his crutch.

She passed him outside of the Great Hall, barely sparing him a glance. Ivar could see that she was still just as angry as at the lake, as well as hurt.

“My princes.” She greeted them. Her voice was cold, emotionless. Hvitserk hissed through his teeth when she was gone.

“Ouch.” He commented.

“Don’t push it.” Ivar snapped.

“Talk to her.” Ubbe suggested. “Make her see sense.”

“I can’t.” Ivar replied.

“Yeah, because you picked out someone just as thickheaded as you.” Hvitserk snorted. “Maybe try apologizing for your death wish.”

Ivar pushed him, hard, but Hvitserk only laughed, hands up in mock-surrender.

“He’s trying to help.” Ubbe reminded. Ivar didn’t reply, and Ubbe sighed. “I’ll take care of her while you’re gone.” He promised. Ivar nodded, before he limped off.

A few days later: Hvitserk and Bjorn leave for the Mediterranean

She hadn’t slept in his bed, not once. Ivar hadn’t made any attempts to apologize. His brothers could say what they wanted; he wouldn’t lower himself to her. She was lucky to be alive, and he didn’t even love her.

That is a lie. A voice in his head whispered. Strangely enough, while there was a rift between them, she had grown closer with his mother. They kept together whenever he saw them together, never talking, but keeping their distance from Ragnar.

She was there at the docks now, while Aslaug said goodbye to Hvitserk. She offered him a polite small as he passed her, and Ivar felt his fist clench with anger. He didn’t want anyone to look at her. When he glanced over at her, their eyes met for a second.

He looked away first, but he had seen the amber necklace around her neck. When the ships were gone, she followed behind Aslaug silently, while Ivar remained at the docks. He stayed there for hours, until it began to get darker.

Ivar sat down at the beach. He had seen Ragnar come here yesterday. When Ragnar had come back, he hadn’t uttered a single word, but Bjorn had given him a sad smile. Ivar didn’t know what it meant, and he couldn’t figure it out.

He tried to be frustrated about that, instead of her, but he failed miserably. When he heard steps in the sand behind him, he whirled around. She was on the beach too, but she hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Y/N.” he blurted out.

“My prince.”

Ivar patted the spot beside him, hoping that she would come. She hesitated, but eventually, she sunk down beside him, smoothing out her dress. It was the green one.

“Queen Aslaug-“ she said after a while, searching for the right words. “She tried to explain. I think neither of us want you to go, and I don’t want to understand. If you have to go, I cannot stop you. I just-“

She broke off, and they sat in silence for a while. “I am-“ Ivar began. He wanted to say he was sorry, he really did. “I didn’t want to cause you pain.” He said instead. “But it’s my only chance. Do you understand?”

“No.” she said simply. Ivar sighed.

“Promise you’ll come back to me. Valhalla can wait.” She whispered.

“I’ll try.” Ivar replied.

“It’s not enough.” She said, demanding. She was always demanding, but Ivar didn’t stop her. He wanted to give her whatever she demanded of him. He kissed her instead, because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

When they broke apart, he saw tears glittering in her eyes, angrily wiping at his when he felt the familiar sting. She mirrored his actions, before her hands began to clench into fists. Neither of them wanted to cry, and Ivar felt himself regretting his promise to Ragnar more and more.

He felt desperate, and lost and confused, but most of all, he felt angry. Angry at Ragnar for returning now, angry at her for ignoring him and angry at himself for hurting her.

“I love you.” He blurted out. Despite what I promised mother.

Her eyes grew wide at his confession, before she gave him a smile. A real one, one of those only he got to see. “I love you too.” She replied. “I love you so much.”

“Thank the Gods.” He stammered out. It wasn’t supposed to be something he wanted to say out loud.

“I missed you.” She admitted. “In two days, you won’t even be here at all.”

“Ubbe will take care of you.” Ivar promised.

“Prince Ubbe will take care of all my needs?” she joked, and Ivar rolled his eyes.

“Think of me.” He replied, imitating Bjorn’s cocky tone. She snorted, before she pushed him down gently, straddling his lap.

“As if that even comes close.”

Ivar felt pride swell in his chest, pulling her down toward him. His hand closed around her neck, squeezing gently, and she gave him a soft moan. Only now he realized how much he had missed this.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered. Spurred on, she began tugging at his vest.

“Outside?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t like that.”

“No one’s around. We’ll just have to be quiet.” She replied.

“You? Quiet?” Ivar asked. She rolled her eyes, getting up quickly, holding his crutch towards him. Ivar swore he had never walked so fast in his life as they made their way to the Great Hall.

They passed Aslaug, who only rolled her eyes at them, and then Sigurd and Ubbe.

“Well someone’s made up.” Ubbe called after them. Ivar shot a look in his direction, but by that time, he was busy with Margrethe again.

They barely made it into his room and onto the bed, and Ivar had to restrain himself not to rip the dress off of her. He had wanted to take his time with her, to make her squirm under him, but right now, Ivar did not have the patience for that. Instead, he let her guide him into her.

Ivar grabbed her by the hips, flipping them around so that he was on top, before he thrusted into her. He wasn’t careful, or gentle, but her moans spurred him on.

She scratched his back raw, and in return, Ivar grabbed whatever he could greedily. He felt wild, and free, and for a moment, he could forget that he was leaving her behind.

That he was abandoning her.

“You need to slow down.” She gasped under him. “Please.”

Immediately, Ivar came to a halt.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Keep going, just a bit slower please.” She replied.

He began thrusting more lazily, and she held him close. Ivar’s forehead rested on hers, and he closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He finally whispered.

“I know. I’m sorry too.” She replied.

“It showed me you truly cared.”

The day that Ivar left, she handed him his new sword at the dock. His mother asked him not to go one last time, but Ivar’s mind was set. He hugged her goodbye, before he moved on to his girl.

“May the Gods keep and protect you.” She told him. Everything else, she left unsaid.

“And you.” Ivar mumbled. If he looked at her, he wouldn’t be able to leave. So he turned around and got into the boat. Ragnar patted him on the back, giving him a look Ivar couldn’t read. He only knew that Ragnar thought this girl didn’t mean anything to Ivar.

As the boat sailed away, Ivar looked back at Kattegat. Neither of the women moved, both unwavering until they were out of sight.

#ivar #aslaug #ubbe #hvitserk #ragnar #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x y/n #ivar x you #ivar smut #ivar angst #ivar fluff #ivar fanfiction

[axxl-rose]

Told You

Ivar the Boneless x ofc

Word Count: 2431

Warnings: mature language, explicit sexual content.

Groans and cries boomed throughout the hut, a woman begging for more as a man encouraged her to take it like a 'good girl'. The sounds from Ivar's room were pure filth, the splintering of the wooden bed accompanied by a shriek to Odin. Yet, the room's typical tenant sat outside the door, gritting his teeth with blue eyes ablaze.

Footsteps approached, the noise getting closer and closer, but the man did not shift from his twitchy state, back against the cold wall and legs spread uselessly in front of him. "Ivar Lothbrok, you dirty pervert!" Elli bellowed, appearing before the young prince, shocking him from his murderous stupor. "Listening to your brother as he makes love to his woman! Absolutely shameful!" She chided, taking a seat beside him, their shoulders brushing.

Ivar listened to the constant swearing and whining behind the door, shaking his head. "Nothing about that sounds like love," He snorted. "Besides, where am I to go? My room is clearly occupied." He tapped the closed door, but no response came.

Rolling her eyes, Elli shoved her friend's shoulder, leaning in close. "Why not find your own woman and take her to Hvitserk's room for a bit of revenge?" Elli whispered, giggling at her master plan, ignoring his blank face.

The pair had been friends since childhood, with Elli being the only juvenile to overlook Ivar's legs and persevere through his temper tantrums. Although Elli did not enjoy the activities Ivar did, war and violence, they grew to be inseparable, the girl all but adopted into the Ragnarsson family and adored by all of Kattegat. While Ivar was a scorching wildfire, prepared to obliterate everything in his path, Elli was the morning sea, gentle and welcoming.

Clapping his hands, Ivar exhaled. "Oh, my innocent Elli, your master plan is flawless." The sarcasm flowed from his tongue. Holding up one figure, he wagged it in front of her tracking eyes before tapping her cold nose, jostling her. "The problem, however, is that I cannot have a woman." He spat.

Elli's face twisted, her lips pursed and nose scrunched. "What do you m– oh…" Her face dropped. Ivar clenched his jaw, humming and averting his eyes away from her. "Surely that is not the case!" She exclaimed, grabbing Ivar's chin and forcing his downcast eyes to meet her bright ones. Pulling out of her grip, Ivar sent her a pointed glare. Elli just shrugged. "Well, were you relaxed?"

"Of course, I was." He declared, finding the filthy floor more interesting than her raised brow. Rolling his eyes, Ivar sighed. "No," he grumbled, flicking dirt off his trousers.

Elli cheered, throwing her arms in the air. "That is your problem! You need to find somebody you can be comfortable around." She tutted. "You are far too concerned about how people will perceive your legs to relax in a situation like that; fear will scare your manhood away!"

Ivar choked. "And how would you know anything about that?!" he demanded, wondering what experience his angelic friend had and how he didn't know about it.  

Elli huffed, crossing her arms. "I listen to woman talk, Ivar."

Clearing his throat, Ivar accepted her answer and moved on, yet it continued to dwell in his mind. "Where do you suggest I find someone like that? In case you have forgotten, I am not close with many people."

Elli paused, observing Ivar's dejected frame, before shrugging. "Well, why don't we just do it together?"

Suddenly, the obnoxious noises from Ivar's room faded into the background. A ringing echoed in his ears, and he could feel the blood drain from his face, his hands becoming sweaty. Licking his lips, Ivar stuttered, "Ar–are you sure? This cannot be taken back."

Elli smiled softly. "Yes, but doing it with you makes sense. I want this to happen." She stated plainly, ignoring the rapid blinking of the Ragnarsson beside her. Standing up, Elli brushed off the dust from her dress and began to walk away. Realising the cripple had not started to follow her, she paused, turning back to see his gobsmacked face. "Well, are you coming or not?" She questioned. Elli did not wait for his response as she sauntered away, but the tell-tale sound of rapid dragging followed her footsteps.

†

Laying back on the bed, the woollen fleece itched and irritated his bare skin, but he ignored it in favour of staring at the woman perched on top of him, naked as the day she was born. Her trembling thighs rested atop of his, the silence surrounding them.

The two gawked at each other, the flickering fire illuminating their bodies and casting shadows around the room. Exhaling, Ivar lay there, not touching her. "Are you sure this is what you want?" He muttered, his hands twitching by his sides, desperate to touch her. Swallowing heavily, Elli nodded rapidly. Ivar chuckled lowly, his quaking hand trailing up her soft thigh, causing the woman to shudder. "I need to hear your words, Elli."

Elli leant down, her hair covering her bare breasts as she rested her hands on his shoulders. "I want this, Ivar," she rasped. "I want you."

Nodding to himself, Ivar saw the honesty glistening in her eyes. Licking his lips, the young prince pushed onto his forearms, bringing his face close to hers.

Elli could feel his rushed breath on her face and shuddered, worried he could hear the hurried beating of her heart. Leaning down, the young woman closed her eyes as their lips met. It was a firm but gentle kiss, unsure and tentative. Yet, it was comfortable... right. As the pair grew more confident, Ivar's shaking hand left her thigh and moved to her waist, gripping her tightly. His hand blindly reached up and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her close, their bodies pressed against one another in a warm embrace.

Elli's toes curled; his face grasped between her hands. She wanted more. She needed it. Instinctually, her body ground down on him, searching for relief. Ivar pulled away with a groan, throwing his head back. Elli did not let go of his face, but her eyes widened. Between her damp folds rested a hard, rigid penis. Raising a brow, she carefully rolled her hips. "Elli!" He moaned.

Elli smirked as Ivar paused, huffing and puffing. His eyes were blown wide, staring at the dim ceiling as he realised what had happened, what he thought would never happen. He had an erection.

As Ivar lay there, stunned, Elli began trailing her way down his stomach, leaving kisses and nibbles as a footprint of her path, licking stripes in the dips of his abdomen as roads. Ivar was knocked out of his daze and let out unsteady breaths as Elli became face-to-face with Ivar's member. It was engorged and larger than she had expected, a pretty pink tip atop a thick, veiny cock. She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs.

Taking a deep breath, Elli leant down, running the flat of her tongue across his leaking tip. Ivar squirmed, hissing in pleasure. However, groans and gasps followed as Elli's tongue explored his throbbing length, stroking and sucking with her wet mouth, paying special attention to the thick vein that ran up his cock.

Elli rubbed her thighs together as her hand joined her mouth, her thumb caressing a slow circle around the head as she took languid, long strokes with her tongue, making his hips jerk and twitch.

Nodding to herself, Elli finally took Ivar's member in her mouth, both of them whimpering at the feeling. Ivar's head fell back, his parted mouth hung open, and eyes screwed shut as Elli's warm, wet mouth moved up and down his shaft. Elli tried to take all of him in her mouth but could not, gagging due to his considerable size, so her hand aided her, pumping up and down as she swirled her tongue around him.

Ivar cursed above her, digging his fingers into the damp fleece as grunts and shaky breaths emitted from him. Sneaking a glance down at Elli, he whimpered, seeing wide pupils already locked on him. The sight of her beautiful lips wrapped around his throbbing cock drove him wild. "Fuck," he groaned.  

Yet, he swallowed the whine that threatened to escape him when she pulled away, a line of saliva still attached to his cock connecting to her mouth. Yet, a moan erupts when Elli begins to softly tug at his penis, rubbing it up and down. "I want to ride you now…" Elli whispered, eyes intently watching Ivar's reactions, how he whined and ground his hips in search of release; it made wetness drip from her folds and onto the bed.

Clearing his throat, Ivar stared into her eyes. "Well, if you are sure, what are you waiting for?"

Without another word, Elli climbed on Ivar, her body moving up his thighs, causing Ivar to bite his lip as he felt her moistness drag against him. Pushing her hips flush against his, Elli began to grind, circling her hips back and forth, searching for friction. The pair mewled, pawing at each other as she guided his cock through her slick folds, coating himself in her arousal. As Elli ground on Ivar's cock, it nudged her clit every time, making her whimper and whine. The sound was intoxicating to Ivar. He reached up, gripping at her chest, tweaking one of her nipples and taking the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

Rasping, Elli reached down between them and grasped his dick, propping herself up and preparing to sink down on it. "Wait, wait..." Ivar whispered against her breast, holding her hips in place. "Are you sure?" Icy blue eyes peered up at her, a vulnerability in them that Elli had never seen before.

"Of course, I am sure." Elli declared as she sank down on Ivar's cock. Elli cried, for although she was wet and wanting, she had never been penetrated before, so an intense burning overtook her. However, Ivar had never felt something so tight, so warm wrapped around him. He wanted to thrust, chase that feeling, yet seeing tears leaking from Elli's eyes made him pause.

"No, no..." Ivar brushed the tears away, Elli sniffling as he grasped her face between his hands. He caressed her cheek, leaving kisses. "This will pass." He promised.

A watery chuckle left Elli. "And how do you know this?"

Smirking, Ivar trailed a hand up Elli's quivering thigh. "While you listen to women talk..." His hand etched closer to her sex, where he was still paused deep within her. "I listen to men talk."

A keening moan escaped her lips, high-pitched and breathless, as Ivar's thumb pressed on her clit. Rolling his fingers around, Elli quivered and squirmed. Slowly, Ivar moved his hips in time, matching her pace and never quicker. Soon, with patience and passion, the burn faded into a pleasurable stretch.

Elli pushed Ivar back onto the bed, removing his hand from her clit. Holding his shoulders, Elli began to bounce up and down, using his shoulders as an anchor to help her thighs, unsure with the new movement. The two friends locked eyes as Ivar lifted his glistening hand to his mouth, licking the moisture from in and around his fingers. Sighing, Ivar relished in the tangy taste, spurring him on and began to pound into her, grunting at the exertion and the feeling.

"Oh, Ivar," she whimpered, throwing her head back and exposing her glistening chest as she rocked her hips, chasing a feeling she had never felt before.

Ivar's hands kneaded her thighs, encouraging her to meet his fast pace as he pounded into her from below. "You're doing such a good job, Elli." He praised, grinding his throbbing erection deep inside her, loving how she mewled and bounced faster at his approval.

"Ivar, I– Ivar, I can't…" Her thighs burned, the steady up-and-down motion slowing as her legs trembled. She sobbed, her trembling fingers tracing her clammy abdomen and clutching her breasts, twisting her stiff nipples and whimpering.

Growling, Ivar released his bruising grip from the supple flesh of her hips. Grasping the back of her clammy neck, Ivar jerked her close, dragging their bare chests together as he latched onto the delicate skin of her throat, littering kisses and bruises. His cock slammed into her soaking core, squelching reverberating off the walls as Elli squealed. Her quivering arms collapsed, and she lay flat on Ivar, mumbling nonsense as Ivar huffed into her ear. "Fuck, you are such a good girl. Taking all of me so good," he babbled, licking a long stroke up her salty neck, his hips never slowing.  

Tears welled in Elli's eyes as she reached a shaking hand between their sticky bodies to rub her throbbing clit. Weeping in relief, Elli moved her slim fingers furiously, feeling something building in her lower belly, setting every nerve in her body on fire.

Eyes locked on Elli's movements, her fingers drumming fast and her wetness leaking onto his shaking thighs, Ivar groaned. Tilting his hips off the bed, Ivar ploughed into Elli, gripping her wild hair and forcing her lips on his, their tongues dancing. "fuck–fuck–FUCK IVAR!" Elli screamed, the coil that had built inside of her finally snapping. Her pussy tingled, gushing wetness all over Ivar's pounding cock. Collapsing on top of the young Prince, Elli saw stars, her body twitching in the aftermath. Feeling her completion, tugging, and milking Ivar's solid erection, Ivar roared, his seed coating her convulsing inner walls. Elli mewled at the feeling, her cunt squeezing him, draining him of every last drop.

Sticky and sweaty, the young pair struggled to catch their breath, huffing and puffing.

While Elli was dazed, her body still quivering with aftershocks, Ivar stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. His hands stroked up her saturated back as he struggled to find words. Blinking away tears, the prince gazed down at his only friend. Shaking his head, Ivar planted a solid kiss on the forehead, wrapping his arms around her. Sighing, Elli snuggled into his muscular arms.

"Told you." Elli croaked, her throat dry and voice muffled in Ivar's grip.

Ivar just laughed, throwing his head back against the pillows. "Yes, my not-so-innocent Elli, you were correct." Stroking her cheek, Ivar raised her droopy head and was greeted with a lazy smile. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Giggling, Elli pouted her lips, too weak to lift herself up. Leaning down towards Elli, Ivar barely met her lips when the door was flung open, slamming against the wall with a bang! "OH MY FUCKING ODIN!" Hvitserk yelled, shirt torn open, and jaw dropped.

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar oneshot #ivar fanfiction #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar the boneless x ofc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x oc #ivar lothbrok x ofc #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok x oc #ivar ragnarsson x ofc #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson x oc #vikings #vikings x ofc #vikings x reader #ragnar lothbrok #bjorn ironside #hvitserk ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd ragnarsson #smut

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

I am back, I tried to not request for a few days as I felt guilty at the amount I was requesting.

Although I love your lil drabbles so so much💗

Please could I request Ivar with -

"You touch her hair again, and I'll make sure you never touch anything."

😘

Please don't feel guilty. Your requests are polite and a delight to receive.

Drabble Masterlist

Hammer and Nails

Contains: Violence, protective Ivar, fluff

339 words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed

Ivar decides he needs to set an example.

Ivar was sick of it, "I'm used to it." You would say when someone tried to touch your hair but Ivar didn't think he'd ever get used to it, plus, you were his, no one but him could touch you.

As he walked into the Great Hall, he saw you sitting with a warrior, you were clearly bored out of your brain but you still carried on the conversation until there was a way out of it without being rude. It was when he reached up to touch your hair that was Ivar's last straw, he stomped over and slapped the man's hand away. "You touch her hair again, and I'll make sure you never touch anything."

The man's eyes went wide, "I'm sorry my king, I had no idea she was your wife."

"Well, you're new but I don't care. You touched my wife and now you must pay." Ivar smiled a nasty smile and turned to you, "what should I do wife? You know I don't like the Christians but I appreciate some of their beliefs. What is one of their beliefs? Thall shall not covet thy neighbour's wife?"

You shook your head and tried to pull over away, "yes Ivar but that's enough, he got the message."

"No, I don't think he has, maybe I should remove the offending hand and nail it to the city gates."

The warrior's eyes were filled with fear, "Ivar, that is enough. This has happened to me all my life, there is no reason to start killing people. A better message would be to send him back to his home land and spread the word that he disrespected you in your home."

Ivar smiled, "my sweet wife, always so merciful." He turned to the man with a smile, "you may leave, if I ever see you back here I will cut your hand off an nail it to the city walls. Do you understand me?"

The man nodded and raced off, "are you happy now?"

Ivar nodded, "with you? Always."

Fin

#ivar lothbrok #ivar fanfiction #ivar fanfic #ivar x you #ivar x y/n #ivar x oc #vikings series #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine #vikings fandom #ivar #fluff #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #vikings fic

[bouncehousedemons]

Lust

Rating: E Pairing: Hvitserk x female character, Ivar x female character (written in second person, regrettable use of y/n) Warnings: Smut, angst, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, brief mention of abortion Word count: 8k (7 chapters)

Summary:  Hvitserk liberates a farmer’s daughter from her quiet life in Northumbria, only to have his younger brother take a keen interest in her.

Read the full fic on AO3

#vikings fanfiction #vikings history #vikings #ivar the boneless #hvitserk whiteshirt #ivar #hvitserk #ivar lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #ivar x reader #hvitserk x reader #ivar fanfiction #hvitserk fanfiction #ivar's heathen army #hvitserk's heathen feast #vikings ivar #vikings hvitserk #ivar x you #hvitserk x you #vikings fic #vikings history channel #vikings fandom

[miss-madness67]

Mother Knows Best (Ivar)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#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