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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

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Me again🙄 could you pretty please with a cherry on top do number 22 and 53 with ivar??

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So this is the last... for now, but I honestly loved writing all your requests as always and I hope that you’ll enjoy this, as always!

Have a nice day (and may Roman and Ivar be with you!)!

WARNINGS: Mention of Rough Sex, Teasing, Possessiveness, Supernatural AU, Werewolf! Ivar, Mention of Poly-Relationship, Mention of Overstimulation, Clingy Ivar.

Heats with Ivar were a variety of reactions that never failed to make you drenched in sweat and tears once they were over.

The first one you had spent together, you had been grateful that also Roman had been present, because you were so overstimulated after quite some time and Ivar kept on fucking you, till you were limp with pain and Roman had actually risked his balls trying to steal a mate from a werewolf in heat.

Each time it was different: at first it was a moment where Ivar would do nothing but be desperately greedy of your body, being as ‘ruthless’ as they always called him in his clan, but then he slowly changed wanting so desperately to be close to you that it felt like an immediate need.

His thrusts would slow up and he would make anything to watch your face as he thrusted up into you, feeling your hips buckle up into his as you searched a faster rhythm he wouldn’t give you, since he just wanted to enjoy your warmth and nearness.

This time you had thought it would be nothing more than the usual slow heat that made him extremely cuddly, but it came with some different characteristics, such as Ivar being insatiable for you, enough to be ready to have you in a few hours after the previous round(s).

And he was also extremely clingy, which wasn’t so unusual: had he had his way he wouldn’t have done nothing but stayed in bed with you, both on top or under you and more importantly in you.

Hence you had had to take action, abandoning him for half the day in order to let him work, since the heat was just pushing its boundary, lasting much more than it was healthy.

And you thought a quiet moment apart might help him regain some balance.

You had spent the morning replying to some emails of the hotel, alongside Hvitserk: the brothers didn’t let you pay them for the hospitality of theirs hotel, but you, feeling guilty, tried to help them around, although they always insisted that your presence was more than enough.

Even more when it quieted the beast inside Ivar.

You were meant to join Ivar back in order to lunch together, Hvitserk accompanying you and chatting gingerly with you, as usual, but as soon as Ivar came into your view you felt the shift in his body, seeing the way he tightened his fists, clearly displeased of seeing you with another man.

And Hvitserk smirked lightly, but didn’t dare to touch you anymore, instead backing away, winking lightly at you and shaking his head.

“… where were you?” he asked, his tone rough and hadn’t you known that it would have been worse, you would have gladly replied to him in a rather sarcastic way.

But preferred for a gentler approach.

“Sorting some emails, you know exactly how awful Hvitserk is with that stuff” you gently mumbled, meanwhile you came closer letting him comfort himself with your physical presence.

“I have been aching for you the entire morning” he stated as if he was telling her it was sunny outside “… and you weren’t there”.

“Aren’t you a spoiled brat?” you mumbled, but let his arm circle your waist, pushing you to the first closed and shadowed place he could find, making you giggle at his eagerness, as he sank his fangs into your neck, definitely marking you up.

“Mine” he muttered and you just huffed out a moan of pleasure and annoyance, meanwhile you adjusted your head to show him more of your neck, as he pushed you up against you, completely flush against his body, making you feel exactly what part of him was ‘aching for you’.

He raised up your legs, supporting you as he sat down lowly not to put too much pressure on his legs, buckling up into you as you tried to lightly hover over him, a more teasing manner, knowing that although the place you had locked yourself in, was pretty away from anything, but you didn’t trust Ivar… not when he loved letting people know who was fucking you so well.

“… fucking mine” he pointed each words with a thrust and his hand went to your pants, thankfully leggings since you thought about being comfortable, almost ripping them in his animalistic fury, getting him a light slap onto his arm, which he took as foreplay.

He pushed you against the pavement, trapping you under his towering height and structure making you feel damnably small and even more aroused.

And Ivar approved as his hands slithered into your pants, lowering them with the other hand, but having no mercy for your poor panties, and you were thankful that you had known better than to wear expensive lingerie on his heat.

You could have worn granny panties and he would have ripped them faster, just to shove you onto his cock.

And they were less expensive than ‘La Perla’ lingerie.

You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t going to stop him.

You could have, but heats were slowly getting also to you.

You, yourself, were aching for him, after that morning in which you had been separated.

As his fingers teased your outer folds, as a pathetic attempt to wait for your permission, but he was definitely trembling with anticipation.

You met his blue eyes, lightly clouded by impatience and lust and simply muttered:

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.”

#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar The Boneless Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar The Boneless x Reader #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Imagine #Ivar The Boneless Imagine #Ivar Ask #Ivar Drabble #Ivar Blurb #Ivar The Boneless Ask #Ivar The Boneless Drabble #Ivar The Boneless Blurb #Ivar Smut #Ivar The Boneless Smut #Vikings

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years ago

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Άσπίς (Vοσταλγία Winter Blurb)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Άσπίς: shield (Ancient Greek)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: Winter Blurb #8. A wonderful nonnie requested to see Ivar on protective mode, so I tried my best to deliver.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: nope, PDA, lil bit of suggestive themes, and the usual I suppose.

A/N: Hope this is okay, thank you for requesting this! And I’m sorry for getting them out of order (I’ll get to all the remaining winter blurbs as quickly as I can).

Of all the things you could expect of a winter in this kingdom, being followed around Kattegat, much like you were when you were first brought here, was not one of them.

It has been half a day now, and you are slowly driving yourself mad trying to figure out if these women are trying to be discreet about their lumbering steps trailing after you or not.

“So, you’ve noticed them too.” Freydis quips, a smile that you can hear in her voice.

“It is hard not to.”

The blonde giggles under her breath, knocks her shoulder with yours as she whispers, “You still shouldn’t stare, you know.”

It is at her words that you blink out of your daze and realize you’ve been sitting there and staring at them for a while now. When the green eyes of one of the shieldmaidens meet yours, the woman only bows her head in greeting.

Eyes narrowed, you stand up and walk up to them, uncomfortably aware of their eyes on you from where they sit together, a table away.

You have no words when you reach them, though, and all you can offer is a flimsy, “Hello.”

She bows her head, again.

You hate that.

“My Queen.”

You hate that too.

“You aren’t subtle.” You blurt out, eyes switching between the one that spoke and the other three.

“We weren’t trying to be.”

You tilt your head to the side, and press,

“Why?” One of them, a woman of grave features and a scar over her lip, offers the beginning of a smile, and a helpless little shrug, as if to tell you she really shouldn’t give you an answer. That is an answer though, and you sigh, “Of course.”

When you turn around to go find your husband, the sound of chairs rustling as the shieldmaidens stand to follow you makes you grit your teeth. Freydis’ clear blue eyes watch you go, and with a secret smile she teasingly mouths good luck.

Luckily, you find Ivar quickly enough, and the little gaggle of shieldmaidens following you -in a manner that really shouldn’t remind you of little ducklings as much as it does- manages to become background noise for you as you walk to the courtyard where Ivar and Hvitserk are talking animatedly and eating, still amazingly unbothered by the biting cold of the winter.

As you approach you note that the shieldmaidens disperse through the crowd, as if they understand they are no longer needed. You know they will be once again on you the moment you walk away from your husband though.

Ivar is sitting by that table with his back turned to you, and it is Hvitserk who sees you approaching. He groans, an exaggerated roll of his eyes accompanying his words.

“In Odin’s name, no. Go away, you saw each other this morning.”

At his brother’s words, Ivar turns around, eyes already seeking you. You lose a bit of your anger when you witness the way his expression softens when he sees you.

“My love, come here.” He calls, extending a hand that you take without thinking twice about it.

You walk towards him until you are standing in between his legs, his hands moving to your hips and tightening as you lean down to greet him. He sighs into the soft and slow kiss, and your heart skips a beat in response.

Ivar maneuvers you until you hop onto the table in front of him, his hands moving down to your thighs and his smile widening as you lean back for another kiss.

“You last saw her this morning,” Hvitserk repeats, the clanking of a knife being dropped onto his plate as he sighs, “Could you not?”

Ivar pulls back, leaning to the side to look past you at his brother, “You could choose not to watch.”

“I’m eating here,” Hvitserk retorts without missing a beat. A moment, and you hear, “So unless you also plan to, please get your wife off the table.”

Eyebrows lifted, Ivar taunts, “And what makes you think would I let you watch, hm?”

“Well, there’s not much difference between seeing and hearing, and I have heard you two already, so th-…”

“Stop it.” You order past gritted teeth, and though you cannot see Hvitserk, you can hear his smile when he retorts,

“That’s actually the exact opposite of what I’ve heard you say.”

You put your hand on Ivar’s mouth to stop him from laughing, but the glint in his eyes and the silent shake of his shoulders still make your foolish heart grow warm, and a reluctant smile pulls at your lips.

Moving your hands to his shoulders, not bothering to hide how you are seeking the warmth of his fur cloak to cover your freezing hands, you start,

“Why are there shieldmaidens following me?”

“I want you to get used to them,” He says with ease, offering a shrug at your silence. “They will protect you when I leave for the spring.”

“Won’t Hvitserk stay with me?”

“Of course I will,” He quips, sounding almost offended that you would imply otherwise. “But my brother is right, you should have warriors to guard you.”

The choice of words irks you more than you would like to admit.

“I don’t ne-…”

Ivar’s hands tighten on you, calling for your attention, “We’ve talked about this.”

“No, you’ve talked.”

“And you’ve just quietly let me talk?” Ivar taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips, “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

You open your mouth to respond, but interrupt your words to turn your head to offer a glare at Hvitserk when he snorts a laugh.

“Something to say?”

He doesn’t look at you, and instead brings his cup to his smiling lips, standing up and shaking his head as he gulps the remaining mead.

“Not a thing,” Hvitserk replies easily, passing you by and pressing a kiss on your head as goodbye. “Good luck.”

What is it with everyone wishing you luck in regard to this?

You watch him go, and Ivar’s hands trailing up and down your thighs, leaving warmth chasing after the touch, bring your attention back to him.

“I told you a long time ago to find some warriors and shieldmaidens you can trust to protect you.”

“And I promptly ignored you.”

Ivar tilts his head to the side, annoyingly smug.

“How did that work out for you, hm?”

You sigh, following the trail of your fingers through the fur cloak over his shoulders, and quietly insist, “I don’t need guards.”

“Yes, you do.” He retorts, not missing a beat.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” He insists stubbornly, though a small smile starts to curve at Ivar’s lips at your glare. “This is not up for discussion.”

Your eyes narrow as you say, “With you, most things aren’t.”

“And yet you love me.”

You furrow your lips at the smug expression on his face, and shake your head.

Having those warriors following you around, it feels like those first weeks in Kattegat, with Whitehair’s looming presence behind you, with watchful eyes set on you at all times. Eyes and ears follow the witch, the elder had told Freydis, but you had known for a while that Ivar was keeping a tight hold on the invisible chains he had set upon you.

“Ivar, I won’t be followed around as if I am a prisoner, th-…”

His expression hardens almost immediately as the word leaves your lips. Even after everything, you even implying that you are a prisoner to him still irks him.

“No, you will be followed around as if you are my wife, because you are.”

You take a deep breath, and start again, “I’m safe here.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, voice more guarded, stance more defensive, as he argues, “Not as safe as you think.”

“There is no safer place than Kattegat. If any army prepares to go beyond our walls, we will know, and prepare.”

“It doesn’t take an army to kill one woman,” He argues, a fleeting smile as he adds, “Even if that woman is you.”

“If someone gets close enough to try to kill me, we’ve already lost, Ivar.”

A twitch of irritation that furrows at his nose, that curls at his lip, and Ivar looks away with an angry breath. You realize you might have been a tad blunter than you intended to be with your words, but it is true.

“They will force you to surrender if they have to, the shieldmaidens. That is why I want them with you,” He states after a few breaths, the words quiet, as if speaking any louder will make it a reality. Given how much thought he has already put behind this possibility, you gather he should worry more about his thoughts making it true rather than his words. “They will drag you to safety if they have to. They aren’t there to save your pride; they are there to save you.”

“I wouldn’t give up our home.” You argue without hesitation, a furrow between your brows that you feel lessen when the faintest of smiles curves at Ivar’s lips absently at your words.

“If someone comes and takes Kattegat from us, I can fight for it, reclaim it. I have before,” He insists, and it is at that last sentence that it dawns on you. Why Hvitserk stays behind with you each time, why Ivar insists on leaving people he trusts to protect you, why leaving you behind in Kattegat seems to weigh on them as much as it does. They have left their home unprotected before, and they have returned to find their kingdom was not their own anymore and their mother had been killed while neither of them were there to protect her. You realize, for the first time maybe, that leaving behind their family in Kattegat is more daunting than either of them dare admit, maybe because they don’t realize it either. “But I can’t-…if they take you from me, what…what is there for me to do, hm?”

He searches your gaze as if you can offer any certainty regarding that, as if you can promise not even death can keep you from his side. You wish you could, but you cannot. You can promise that you will not let death claim you for as long as you can.

A Hiereia of the Dread Gods doesn’t fear death, and you never have. But you have prayed and threatened and you would fight and kill to keep Ivar from it.

And so you understand, even if you do so with less painful clarity than he experiences it, why he needs to do whatever it is in his power to keep you safe.

You concede with a dazed nod of your head, one of your hands trailing from his shoulder up to the side of his face, fingers tracing absently at the cold skin of his cheek.

“If you trust them, then so will I,” You promise, before taking a breath and leaning closer, brow pressed against his as you insist, as softly as you can, “But I don’t need them following me, not while you are here. No one is enough of a fool to try and take me from your side.”

He had to have known you wouldn’t give in without making him give in as well, you wouldn’t retreat without making him lose some ground of his own as well.

Ivar watches you in silence, pale blue eyes set on you, but you have feeling in his mind he is considering the cost of agreeing to keeping those guards with you only once the army leaves with him.

“If you choose a few more, that you know and trust, then mine will only guard you once I’m gone,” His eyes search yours, and, seemingly placated at whatever he sees in your gaze, Ivar leans back. After a breath or two, with a rueful, self-depreciating smile he adds, “Not that I don’t think you still put too much trust in a cripple being able to protect you, bu-…”

“You do,” You interrupt, a small furrow between your brows. “You have. You protect me, you keep me safe, in…in more ways than my pride lets me admit.”

You had heard the fearful whispers of how Ivar the Boneless was crazy, and once you might have agreed, looked upon him and seen nothing but madness; but as time has gone by, and as the cold of the winter settles in your bones, you cannot help but think it is him the one thing that has kept you from going mad yourself.

In a different life that you dread to even think of or imagine, Fate has pulled you apart and you have left a piece of your heart with him, and no kingdoms and no wars could ever fill the space it left behind.

Not that you would ever tell him, though you think he already knows, but he has saved you from a life without him, a life of being a title before a name, a life of power and the madness that comes with holding it alone. If what you have to do to promise him to do your best to save him from a life without you is accepting a little gaggle of shieldmaidens to follow you around, you can do so.

Ivar offers a small smile at your words, a softening of his features that still pulls tight at your heart.

“You came all this way because of this?”

“It’s not that far, I was bored, and…” You stop listing out your reasonings at the look on his face. “Shut up. It was unsettling.”

He hums as if considering your words, but there’s clear intent as his hands on your thighs make your legs part, and he moves himself closer to the edge of the chair.

“I was eating, you interrupted me.”

“You let me interrupt you,” You argue, but if he hears you he makes no comment. Instead, his hands on your thighs move further back, settling on the curve of your ass and moving you closer to the edge of the table, closer to Ivar’s mouth. He trails a path of kisses over your dress, a path down your stomach towards the side of your hip, stopping only when you call out quietly, “Ivar.”

“No one is looking,” He reassures you, but the dark smile that curves at his lip tells you he is lying and happily. “And if they do, let them.”

Your thoughts linger on his words, your eyes linger on the darkness of his gaze, for what seems to be a few moments too long; surprising yourself at what the thought of being caught with him does to you, and seeming to give Ivar enough time to go on.

He sets to continue the trail of kisses, one rough hand reaching under your skirts to lift up your dress just enough that he can press his cold lips to the skin of your knee.

You huff a laugh, and pull softly at the ends of his braids on the back of his neck, “Ivar!” You complain, smiling foolishly as you offer, “It’s too cold out here.”

A breath, then two, and Ivar drops his head on your leg, silent laughter making his shoulders move slightly. Laughter still clinging to his voice, he presses a kiss over your thigh and offers, “Good to know the cold is your reason for saying no, my love. I’ll remember that.”

____ ____ ____

Yes, the Reader’s introspections at the end there were about Alatheia, I made myself sad with that AU and you have to suffer with me.

Thank you for reading, hope you liked it!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside @aprilivar @msrawog @kaitieskidmore1

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία winter blurbs

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spacemilkies · 7 years ago

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Thirsty Thursday will still be going, but I just needed to roll through this first. Not a request, just the pain in my side that is Ivar. I just wanted an excuse to play with darker themes. This is not Far Cry, but Vikings writing.

When you fall in love with him, it’s decidedly too late. It was as if fate decided to subject you to eternity of misgivings for your stupidity. Or perhaps it was naivety. How despite the bruises molded by fingertips never seemed to leave your skin, always refreshed before they could properly fade. Everyday the window of opportunity to escape closed a little more until it was completely shut to your access- not that you ever glanced its way.

So when you finally accept that your turmoil is based on a sick rendition of stockholm syndrome, it dawns on you like the pearly gates of a sealed prison. The term ��broken’ is the mantra he carried like a tattoo his entire life. He is the embodiment of the word, even know as he finds his strength- broken, soulless is the monster within.

His teeth claw into your spirit, fingertips manipulating the beat of your heart until it aligns with him. It’s really something when you can’t even trust the thrumming organ keeping you alive, or maybe your acceptance is its last gift of promise to you before the end.

Tightening the shade above your eyes, you resist the urge to shudder as the bed shifts beside you. He’s sensitive to that, cognitive of your every thought, motive and action. Even subconscious avoidance is a wall of defense soon to be crumbled.

He’s at the top now, a reigning success despite his past. The epitome of the Seerer’s vision brought to life- hell tethered to the world of the living. There is no one left to stand in his way. Not that it mattered, he’s already filled your head with moss and threatened your veins with poison. Why would anyone sacrifice themselves for someone who could never truly be saved? Why subject themselves with torture when he already satisfied with you.

“ If you’re simply going to lie there the least you could do is make yourself useful in one aspect of your life,” His articulation is a dichotomy of impatience and cruelty. Yet you find humor in the ironic testament of the life he once lived. A twitch of laughter splits your lips, letting the sound wafts into the room. It’s toneless but recognizable for what it is.

The bed shifts further and you can feel the heat of him permeating the air around you. For now the taste of it is bemused, tinged with irritation, but curious nonetheless. Not that you analyzed the breakdown of your slip up.

It’s uncertain if it is inquisitiveness or obedience that invites you to open your eyes, but you bite down on the urge until blood bubbles in retaliation. You know what he looks like, how he feels, the way he tastes. Yet he remains as indescribable as those haunting blue eyes that stare down the world. He thrives for acceptance, yet scraps the hides of his enemies in vengeance. He’s inconsolable, unstable, every space between his heart beats like seconds of a clock until detonation.

The slow trickle leaking at your apex is dismissible to your conscious, a simple adaptive reaction you’ve gained over the years as another layer of protection. It hums to the tune of him slotting himself between your thighs, parting them in forced invitation.

“Tell me pet, what is it that you find so funny that prompts laughter from those sweet lips?” A mouth stained with honey, he claims. Viscous and tantalizing, a treat from the gods- you were their sacrifice after all.

His lips are at your throat, slicing along the column of your throat with the same cold steelness of his blade. It’s news to you how painful it can be to resist the instinct to swallow around nothing. But you don’t want to attract the beast with a viable target with his weapons already so close. The timer is ticking firmer, mimicking the sound of your own heartbeat now- a pity given how quickly it speeds up the clock.

“Speak when your king requests it if you, wife.”

You wonder how much pain is involved with death, surely you’ve come close now?

The sound of your voice is unrecognizable, the threads of sleep more familiar than the crack of it. “Just you … my love. Should a king not bring happiness and contentment to his subjects?”

He’s humming, thinking, and calculating, tongue darting out to wet thick lips. A jumbled mess of war tools thrown haphazardly in the toy box of his mind. So much time as a child, just sitting there and festering on the future.

Yet as you defy the sight of him so much time has passed and you’re still alive. How long will it be until you’re breathless? Either withered from exertion or the force of his hand knocking you back. Perhaps both.

Maybe he’s waiting on a more appealing answer, you’re reminded by the snoozed warning. The reason, your response, his question; they’re all useless, just a paperweight in time to provoke space. Your lips are pressing hard against the shape of his mouth, chased by muscle memory rather than sight. He grunts in surprise despite seeing it coming. You’d forgotten again about the essence between your legs until his knee adjusts against it, spreading the tackiness of it against your inner thigh.

“I know what you’re doing.”

As always. More receptive to your own actions than yourself. The edge of his voice is less noticeable, drowned out by slide against his hard body. His entire integrity is stable, an ironic perception given the hitch in his step when he walks.

Hands slide up the length of your arms to curve at the slope of your shoulders. A groan his bleeds into his mouth as his fingers curl in, nails biting moon crescents into the skin beneath them. Is it shameful to prefer it over the phantom grip around your throat?

“Do you crave the darkness now?” His words whisper against your eyelids, and you find reprieve in the way his hands seek out a new target. Their journey is short, reacting in tandem with his thigh spreading yours further apart as he spears your heat with two digits. The move is with efficiency rather than exploration, testing the compliance of your inner walls before jerking free. It feels rudimentary, like checking off a item on a list before moving on to the next.

His hands are at your thighs now, gripping them firmly as he rocks forward. Your whimper is lost to his own laughter as the head of his cock glides along your slit. It’s as if he’s waiting, following the cycle of air in your lungs for the right moment to take you, the force of his motive choking you mid exhale.

You can hear his lips curl back, feel his teeth glinting down with a premise of promise- a threat. “Such a pretty, pliant little wife they call you,” he recalls as he sheathes himself to the hilt. “Complimentary words for a whore.”

His cadence draws you back and forth against the sheets, creating friction despite the softness. He’s rough but not unhinged as you’ve dealt with in the past.

“I should show them the marks on your knees. Burned raw from way you crawl to me. Bruised from the weight of your body as you feast on my cock.”

You’re quiet no longer, stifling a stream of dry sobs as hips slap against your own. The sound of it is salacious, dirtied by his words as he carves another layer from your soul. It’s the sharp snap of him meeting you that brings you pain, surely reddened past the tint of the setting sun. His body is taut, stretched despite unrelenting muscle as he dominates what is his.

“You’re just a princess, not worthy enough to be their queen,” he purrs. Your voice is shattered into too many fragments for speech not that you have anything in the line up.

You drip around him as he fills you, unbothered by the question of whether it’s post-orgasm or pre-lubrication, the hypersensitivity is untelling as he pulls free. It rolls down the curve of your body in thick droplets, the stain of it sure to irritate you further into the night.

Not once, not even as he rolls off of you do you open your eyes. It’s a pointless notion at this point when he’s already invaded all your senses until there there is nothing but him.

His voice tumbled out from his side of the bed, lips tilted with humor. “It’s a shame that my mother wasn’t there to call you out on your pathetic nature. Or perhaps this was her prophecy from the beginning. The Boneless and the Worthless.”

#ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson imagine #vikings writing #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar lothbrok blurb

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starboyreggie · 7 years ago

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A Princess and a Pagan

A Princess and a Pagan: An Audience

Part One / Part Two

Word Count: 3553 (omg wow sorry)

Pairing: Hvitserk x Adelaide (OC)

Summary: Putting her doubts behind her, Adelaide gets ready for her wedding day. Hvitserk doesn’t know what happens the night of a Christian wedding but soon finds out as he is thrown into it.

Warnings: cuteness, wedding things, public sex (?), sex in front of an audience but they can’t really see, smut, nsfw, fingering (female receiving), penetration (female receiving)

Masterlist

Today was the big day. The day that the Coels and Lothbroks will be joined in holy matrimony under God. Ragnar had agreed to have the marriage the Saxon way if Adelaide agreed to travel back to Kattegat three days after the ceremony. King Coel had decided on Adelaide’s behalf, elated that the service would be done their way.

Adelaide flipped on her side as Milla jerked the curtains open and the sun’s bright rays invaded the room. Adelaide had gotten very little sleep the night before as her nerves would not allow her a moment of peace. Her thoughts never let her mind turn off as a rush of all the possible outcomes ran through her head.

Adelaide stretched her arms to the side and softly moaned as her bones cracked after being so still for so long. She smiled at Milla as she strode over to Adelaide’s bed, “Good morning, my princess. Today is a significant day.”

Adelaide scrunched her eyebrows together, “What do you mean, Milla? Oh! Has the hunting party returned with an assortment of meat for us to feast on?”

Milla raised her eyebrows toward Adelaide as she pulled the blankets off the bed, “Oh yes, my princess! King Coel has asked you down for your help in preparing the animals also!” Milla laughed.

Adelaide mocked throwing up before giggling herself, “Oh, Milla. I am going to miss you so. Can you please tell me the wedding has been canceled and I am now free to live here with you for the rest of my days?”

“Sweet Princess Adelaide, that is no way to talk on the big day! Now your father has given me strict instructions to keep you in this room so that your groom will not see you before it is time. I brought you some breakfast, and once you are finished, we must get started!” Milla kissed Adelaide on the forehead, “I will gather up the rest of the girls, and we will be back in thirty minutes. Eat up, you shouldn’t get married on an empty stomach.” Milla walked out of Adelaide’s chambers with the prior day’s clothes.

Adelaide walked over to the small table that held her breakfast. An assortment of cheeses and meats littered the silver plater. Before she could reach for a piece of food, the door opened slightly, and a body slipped in.

“Hvitserk! What are you doing in here! You are not to see me until the ceremony. My father will be furious if he catches you!” Adelaide yelled at Hvitserk as she turned from him and covered her face with her hands.

“My beautiful bride, I could not wait to see you. I wanted to say something before we are joined under the gods,” Hvitserk turned Adelaide’s face toward his and grabbed her soft hands in his rough ones before continuing, “Adelaide Coel, I understand that we barely know each other, but I am very excited for our life together. I want to get to know you and for your belly to swell with our beautiful children. I know that neither of us had a say in this, but I would never wish for any of my brothers to take my place nor would I wish anyone take yours.”

Hvitserk leaned forward and connected their lips. It was a soft kiss, and it only lasted for a second before Hvitserk pulled back, “I must go now before your father has my head on a stick. I will see you again in a couple of hours when you will be officially mine.”

Before Adelaide could speak a word, Hvitserk had slipped back through the door as quickly as he came in. She brought her hand up to her lips and let her fingers ghost over where he had just been. She wondered if anyone had informed him on what happens on the night of the wedding.

She shook her head to clear her mind. Someone obviously told him and informed him of other details of how the ceremony would go. Adelaide reached for a piece of cheese and bit her lip. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.

Before long Milla returned with several other servants. They guided Adelaide over to her vanity where they ran her brush through her tangled hair. The girls were humming as they worked. Once they had finished brushing her hair, they started to style it. They pulled the top half of her hair into a ponytail and braided the hair that was sectioned off. The bottom half was left to their perfect waves. Adelaide wanted to keep her hair simple.

It was the dress next. Milla had laid it out on the end of Adelaide’s bed, and as she walked toward her bed, she was left speechless. The dress had was a white lace piece that had sheer lace sleeves that connected to the chest and back until the solid white fabric underneath shown through. The dress had a beaded belt that had a floral pattern.

The servants began to untie Adelaide’s nightgown as she took in her wedding dress. Milla watched in awe from the side of the bed, “You will be the most beautiful bride, my princess.”

A single tear dropped from Adelaide’s cheek as she heard Milla’s words, “Thank you, Milla. I love you very much, I hope you know that.” The nightgown fell to the ground, and Milla walked over to help the Princess with her dress. Milla picked up the fabric gently and allowed Adelaide to step underneath for the dress to slip over her body.

Once Adelaide had got her arms through the long sleeves that covered most of her hands, Milla guided her over to her floor length mirror. Adelaide took in her appearance as Milla smoothed her hands on her white dress. “What did I tell you, Princess? The most beautiful bride that there was ever. Oh, wait, one final piece.”

Milla walked over to a box that had been left near the door. She opened the wooden container and pulled out a diamond covered crown. Milla walked back over, and Adelaide slightly bent down to help Milla place the piece of jewelry on her head. The crown glittered as the sun shone through the window. Adelaide took her appearance in and for the first time in her life, she felt like a queen.

“My beautiful daughter, how grown up you look.” Adelaide’s mother entered the room and headed straight for her daughter.

“So how do I look, mother?” Adelaide looked back in the mirror, and her mother joined her as she stood behind Adelaide running her hands down Adelaide’s arms.

“Like a true bride. I have waited for this day for so long, I cannot believe that it is already here.” The queen quickly wiped her eyes to try and hide her tears.

“Mother, if you start crying then I will sure as well,” Adelaide turned in her mother’s arms and brought her in for a hug, “I love you, and I will miss you so.”

“Hush about that now Adelaide, it is not the time for goodbyes. Are you ready? I was sent to fetch you.” The queen smiled, and Adelaide could see that she was truly happy for her little girl.

Adelaide shook her head and hugged Milla before walking with her mother down the halls. She was met with her father at the entrance of the ceremony hall, “Are you ready for this sweetheart?” King Coel reached for Adelaide’s arm and wrapped his in hers after she shook her head.

The sound of the flutes and other instruments filled her ears as she took in a deep breath. This was really it. The large doors were pulled open, and she felt all eyes on her. She brought her head up and scanned the room. Her eyes met his, and the room seemed to melt.

Adelaide felt a squeeze on her arm, but she didn’t pay it any attention and started to walk forward, her eyes only connected with his. Hvitserk’s eyes had gone wide and his mouth agape. He was taken back by her beauty and felt frozen in his spot. He watched in awe as she glided down the aisle toward him; she looked gods-like.

Once Adelaide reached the end of the aisle, the music ended, and King Coel kissed the top of her forehead and patted her arm before turning to his seat where her mother and brother were already. Both Hvitserk and Adelaide knelt on the steps. The priest stepped toward them with the wedding document in his hand, and another had the ink and quill. They both signed the document, binding them together under marriage laws.

The priest stepped back to his spot and started to read off the document. Adelaide’s mind was buzzing so loudly that she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she had attended many weddings before, so she knew what he was announcing. They had confirmed that there had not been any prior contact with each other before the marriage, agreed to stay with each other till death do them part in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad times. They promised to be faithful to each other for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer.

Once the priest had finished, both Hvitserk and Adelaide stood to their feet and joined in hands, “Do you, Hvitserk Lothbrok, agree to these terms and therefore take Adelaide Coel to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Hvitserk bit his lip, “I do,” He was speaking Adelaide’s language. It was broken and grumbled, but it made Adelaide happy nonetheless that Hvitserk had learned the phrase.

“Do you, Adelaide Coel, agree to these terms and therefore take Hvitserk Lothbrok to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Adelaide smiled and turned her head to the priest.

“With the power vested in me, I pronounce Hvitserk Lothbrok and Adelaide Coel husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.” The priest gestured to Adelaide to signal to Hvitserk that he could kiss her.

Hvitserk caught on and wrapped his hands around her jaw and connected their lips. Cheers erupted around the couple. The kiss was deep, filled with passion, but like most of their kisses, it was cut short as Hvitserk pulled back. Adelaide smiled as the couple joined hands once more and walked down the petal littered aisle.

Adelaide caught a glimpse of Milla in the back of the hall, and she was absolutely bawling, and so was her mother. King Coel had a look of pride and nodded toward Adelaide as she passed by.

The party moved to a large ballroom where there was an open space meant for dancing and conversing. Small tables were placed around the edge of the room with white flower arrangements in the center of each. There was a little band in the left corner who started to play a slow song as the bride and groom entered the room. The guests parted for Adelaide and Hvitserk to make their way to the center of the room for their first dance as husband and wife.

Hvitserk placed his hand out for Adelaide to place hers in and when they reached the middle of the room, he had placed one hand on her waist, and one was put behind his back. They started to dance to the music. Hvitserk was spinning Adelaide, making her giggle at his jagged movements with the formal dance. He picked her up by the waist and lifted her up in the air as the music started to slow to a stop. When he slowly began to let her down, their faces almost touched, and Adelaide could feel his breath on her face.

The room started to clap for the couple, and Adelaide laughed, looking around at the guests. The music began to pick up, and the guests started to join in, taking the pressure off the couple and letting them relax a little bit.

“I am so excited to take you back to Kattegat. My mother will love you, and our people will adore you,” Hvitserk started to sway the both of them to music. He had a massive grin on his face that was contagious, and Adelaide started to smile even though moving away from her home terrified her.

“I hope your mother will like me. But I am going, to be honest, I am terrified of leaving. I want to start my life with you, but moving so far away from my home and so quickly, keeps me up at night.” Adelaide confessed to her new husband.

“You have nothing to fear. I will be by your side the whole time; no harm will ever come to you or your name. Trust me,” Hvitserk calmed Adelaide’s nerves with a kiss on top of her forehead. Adelaide laid her head on Hvitserk’s chest and they swayed to the music.

Adelaide felt a tap on her shoulder that brought her back to reality. Her father was standing before her, “Hvitserk, can I have this dance with my daughter?” Hvitserk nodded even though he had no idea what the King had said.

The king took Adelaide’s hand into his and started slowly dance to the music with his daughter, “I am very proud of you, Adelaide. You did this for your Kingdom, and your people know what you have done for them.”

Adelaide smiled at her father, “They’re the reason why I do everything I do. I want to protect them, and if marring a Northman means shielding them from their violence, then there is no choice. I had to marry Hvitserk.”

King Coel was very proud of his daughter and her dedication to her Kingdom, “You’ve handled this with such grace and poise. No other woman I know would have done what you have. I know this was a sacrifice for you and you accepted it and never doubted me or my decisions.”

Adelaide always loved when her father praised her, but she did not do this for him. She did this for her people so that they would never be raided by the Northmen and know the reality of their ferocity. “Thank you, father. Your words mean a great deal to me. I always strive to bring respect and honor to our name.”

The king nodded and then continued to dance with his daughter in silence. He knew this was probably the last time he would get to, and he wanted to savor the moment. The rest of the night was full of food, drinks, and laughs. When the night started to settle in, the priest had told the King that they were ready for the consummation, and the King gathered the people involved.

Hvitserk looked confused as did his brothers when they were all led to a secluded bedroom in the side hall of the castle, “This is our consummation, Hvitserk. This is what seals our marriage and makes it official under the eyes of God. There must be witnesses that we were connected mentally and physically, or our marriage could be accused of being void in the future.”

“I don’t understand why we must have an audience watch us. That is an invasion of privacy,” Hvitserk protested and raised his voice. The room was filled the priest, the King, Queen, and Prince along with Ragnar, Ubbe, Ivar, and a few servants. Adelaide requested that Milla be present and she was there in the back holding her hand to her mouth.

“Hvitserk, we are the only people in this room that matter. Focus on me and only me,” Adelaide leaned forward and kissed Hvitserk. It was a deep kiss, but Adelaide felt Hvitserk’s hesitation. She wrapped her hands in his hair and started to walk backward until her body collided with the bed. Hvitserk pulled back and stared into Adelaide’s eyes, “Please. Do this for me.”

Hvitserk nodded his head, and the couple moved up the bed. The priest closed the sheer curtains around the bed. It brought very little coverage, and the witnesses could see their shadows on the fabric.

Hvitserk connected their lips this time, and Adelaide felt him get more comfortable. He lowered his kisses down to her shoulder, and Adelaide arched her back to give him more access, and he made his way down her body, taking her thin nightgown with him. Soon she was bare to him, and Hvitserk sat back on his knees and took her body in.

“Mm, even more perfect than what I had imagined,” Hvitserk had a look of hunger in his eyes that made Adelaide shiver. He leaned back down to bring his lips to the soft spot under her jaw that made her let out a low moan. Hvitserk’s hands wandered Adelaide’s body, teasing her as they ghosted over her skin but avoided the place she needed him the most.

“Please, Hvitserk.” Adelaide didn’t know what she was asking for. She wanted Hvitserk to touch her either to fill the need starting to build up or to complete to marriage and get the people who were right outside of the curtains to leave.

Hvitserk picked up on what Adelaide was trying to convey as he brought his hands to tear his tunic off. They were completely exposed to each other now, and Adelaide took in Hvitserk’s appearance in. His soft, lightly tanned skin looked heavenly in the glow of the candles. His muscles were defined most likely by all the physical activity he partakes in because of his Viking culture.

Hvitserk reached a hand down to Adelaide’s breast and lightly squeezed it in his large palm, and his other hand was grabbing at her ass. His lips were on her throat, leaving little marks. Adelaide’s hands were in his hair, clutching at the roots.

Adelaide grabbed the hand that was on her ass and moved it over her sex. Hvitserk brought his eyes up to hers and raised his eyebrows. Adelaide just nodded in response.

Hvitserk ghosted his hand over her until taking his middle finger and connecting it to her clit and drawing slow circles on it. This made Adelaide gasp loudly and threw her head back into the pillow. Hvitserk continued his assault on her clit, slowly moving quicker and adding more pressure. He switched from his middle finger to his thumb as he entered one finger into her tight sex.

Adelaide couldn’t hold in her moans anymore as he started to pump into her and she started to ache for more, “Hvitserk,” she moaned out. He added another finger and Adelaide started to pant loudly, a knot beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.

But as quickly as the pleasure started to build, it was taken away as Hvitserk pulled his hands away from her wet center. His fingers were slick with her arousal, and he brought them to his mouth. He held eye contact with Adelaide as he licked his fingers clean, letting them out with a pop.

Adelaide whined at the sight, and the ache at the entrance grew. Hvitserk looked at her with concern and Adelaide nodded in response as she felt him line himself up with her. “I will go slow,” Hvitserk whispered in her ear.

Adelaide felt a strange pressure as he started to slowly push himself in. She felt herself stretch to accommodate his size, and she gasped loudly as he gradually came to a stop as he was entirely inside her. Hvitserk gave her a moment to adjust before he started to pull out. The emptiness made a whimper leave her mouth before a moan replaced it when he thrust back in.

Hvitserk started to pick up the pace as Adelaide’s moans became more confident. Hvitserk’s fingers connected to Adelaide’s clit again and made Adelaide groan and grip the sheets. It wasn’t long before she felt the knot form in her stomach again.

She pulled Hvitserk down to her by his neck and connected their lips in a sloppy, rushed kiss as Hvitserk’s hips started to slam into her. Adelaide clenched when she felt herself come undone, and she let out a sound that was close to a scream.

Her legs started to tremble as ecstasy came over her body. Her back arched into Hvitserk as he started to sloppily thrust into her, letting her ride out her orgasm. He was very close to his own as well, and when Adelaide moaned out his name, he was thrown off the edge and his seed filled Adelaide. She could feel it, and she sucked in her breath at the feeling.

Hvitserk let out one last moan before falling beside Adelaide, and the emptiness making her whimper. He leaned over to Adelaide and kissed the top of her sweaty forehead, “You did so well, my bride.”

“Has it been done, Princess?” The Priest called from outside the curtain.

“Yes, Father,” Adelaide said breathlessly. The couple could hear the crowd shuffling around before hearing the door close.

“This is the last time we have to do this, right?” Hvitserk questioned with a grin.

“Unless it excited you to have an audience,” Adelaide smirked, and Hvitserk pulled himself on top of her and connected their lips again.

A/N: Oh, wow this is long, excuse any errors! Thank yall so much for your positive feedback and continue commenting what you think of this story and what you think should happen! Again, if you want to be tagged, PLEASE send me an ask otherwise there is no guarantee that you will if you ask in a reply / reblog because sometimes I don’t see them. Also, tomorrow there should be a Riverdale piece going up! IT’s finished, but I couldn’t post it today because I'm posting this!

taglist;

@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @fuvkingkillme @vbiggs03 @imanangelyouidjit @justacrush @lovelynerdytraveler @glassteethclan @bagelblossom @angelaiswriting @decaffeinatedeaglefart @kawennote09 @imnotinsanehunny

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bonkywobble · 2 years ago

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Bonkywobble’s Kinktober 2022

I’m so excited for this!!!

Here’s my full list for the upcoming kinktober event. These fics will range from short blurbs to full one shots. The themes will be a mix between light and dark so please heed the warnings in each one. All fics are x female reader unless otherwise specified but more importantly, all fics are 18+ only so minors do not interact with these works or my blog at all.

Fandoms include: Marvel (MCU), Stranger Things, DC (DCEU), The Witcher, Vikings, Once Upon A Time, The Grey Man, Defending Jacob, The Losers, The Sandman, The Red Sea Diving Resort, Knives Out, The Mandalorian

Main Masterlist / Navi

* indicates full length fic while ⚠️ indicates dark themes. List below the cut:

WEEK ONE

Day 1 💋 Jake Jensen - Shibari/Hair Pulling *

Day 2 💋 Thor Odinson - Thigh Riding/Electro Play

Day 3 💋 Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers - Free Use ⚠️

Day 4 💋 Billy Russo - Uniform Fetish

Day 5 💋 Steve Harrington - Sex Pollen *

Day 6 💋 Frank Castle - Edging/Bondage

Day 7💋 Lagertha - Somnophilia (East of The Sun and West of the Moon AU)

WEEK TWO

Day 8 💋 Old God!Clark Kent - Lingerie (Old Gods of Appalachia AU) *⚠️

Day 9 💋 King Valkyrie - Impact Play

Day 10 💋 Lloyd Hansen - Hate Sex ⚠️

Day 11 💋 Ivar the Boneless - Masturbation/Voyeurism

Day 12 💋 Bucky Barnes - Quickie/Creampie (Ethereal AU)

Day 13 💋 Robin Buckley - Overstimulation

Day 14 💋 Hvitserk Ragnarsson - Primal Play

WEEK THREE

Day 15 💋 Alpha!Ari Levinson - A/B/O *

Day 16 💋 Jefferson - Knife Play ⚠️

Day 17 💋 SamBucky - Dirty Talk

Day 18 💋 Din Djarin/The Mandalorian - Praise Kink

Day 19 💋 FrankenBilly - Dacryphilia ⚠️

Day 20💋 Lord Morpheus/Dream of The Endless - Sensation Play

Day 21 💋 Neighbour!Sam Wilson - First Time *

WEEK FOUR

Day 22 💋 Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley - Mirror Play

Day 23 💋 Eddie Munson - Nipple Play *

Day 24 💋 Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes - Biting/Outdoor sex * (LMTAF AU)

Day 25 💋 Andy Barber - Choking/Breath Play

Day 26 💋 Harley Quinn - Body Worship

Day 27 💋 Geralt of Rivia - Anal Sex

Day 28 💋 Vampire!Stucky - Monsterfucking/Blood play *⚠️

WEEK FIVE

Day 29 💋 Ransom Drysdale - Pegging

Day 30 💋 Arthur Curry - Anonymous Sex

Day 31 💋 Bjorn Ironside - Breeding Kink

Bonus fic: ???

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #bonkywobble kinktober #bonkywobble masterlist #bonkywobble writes

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ficstoreadinthedark · 4 years ago

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#20 with ivar the boneless, like she says it to get him and sigurd to stop fighting and he gets pissed when he finds out she’s not so she’s like “stop wasting time and get me pregnant if you’re wanting a baby!”

So uh, remember when I had made a post about this saying it was going to be fluff and a bit longer than an average blurb... well that was a lie...

I live for the angst, because dramatic ™

#vikings #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar x you

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ivarsrideordie · 5 years ago

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Chef Ivar

This is something really short from me. I’ve been trying to get my head back into the game. It was suggested that I write small little blurbs to exercise my brain. So here is one that I worked on today. Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: Ivar is a horrible cook!

Title: Chef Ivar

Words: 297

Masterlist

This will also be posted to my AO3 account in the future.

If you would like to be tagged you can message me or comment and I will add you!

The fire alarm woke you from your deep slumber. You looked at the other side of the bed. No Ivar! The chill of the hardwood floor sent a chill up your spine. You ran for the kitchen to see what was on fire.

“Ivar!” You yelled. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m trying to make you breakfast, my love.” Ivar smiled, holding himself up by his crutch.

You watched the smoke billow from the burning bacon in the pan on the back burner. Eggs crusted over on the top of the stove from where Ivar had cracked the egg then dropped them in the pan on the other side of the counter. The smell of burning bread hit your senses and you ran to remove the blackened toast from the toaster.

“How is that working out for you?” You snickered.

Ivar rolled his eyes and turned off all of the burners on the stove.

“This is what I get for trying to do something sweet for you?” Ivar scoffed with a scowl.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. His body relaxes a bit more as he leans into you.

“Well, the thought is very sweet of you, Ivar.” You kissed the back of his neck.

Ivar hummed at the warmth of your lips on his cool neck.

“What do you say, my love, how about we go out for lunch?” He turned around to face you.

“Lunch?” You asked. “It’s only 8 AM.”

“Oh, I know what time it is.” Ivar wiggled his eyebrows. “I was thinking of eating something a little different for breakfast.” He licked his lips and looked you up and down.

You grinned as you lead Ivar back to your bedroom to let him have is way with you.

@honestsycrets @lisinfleur @therealcalicali @missrobyn81 @dangerousvikings @ivarswickedqueen @bang-kim-bap @michaeliskindahot @heathen-whore @vikingsbifrost @hvitserksgirl @mblaqgi @ivarsshieldmadien @captstefanbrandt @funmadnessandbadassvikings @titty-teetee @ethereallysimple @ivars-snowflake @babydoll7478 @inthenameofodin @ivarsheathen @microsmacrosandneedles @trailerthoughtstexas @ivars-heathen @cbouvier23 @tierneygonzalez @dmv49 @ivaraddict @akamaiden @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @jxylynn-eliz @tayachristopher @ivarlcthbrok @slut4hazeleyes @cynthianokamaria @jadelynlace @xinyourdreamsx @car-karaoke @wallabieswisher @poisonedjoinery @zarousa @winchesterwife27 @rekdreams-fandom @flokidottir-imagines @writingbyjade

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless x reader #modern ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok imagine #modern ivar lothbrok #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #modern ivar ragnarsson

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justanoasisimagines · 2 months ago

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Heroes versus Villians October Event

Hey lovelies, throughout the month of October, I'll be posting twice a day for a hero and a Villian. Below is the list of what's going to be posted.

1st October - Neville Longbottom (Blurb) & Aemond Targaryen (Blurb) 2nd October - Podrick Payne (Blurb) & Victor Zsasz (Gotham) 3rd October - Elijah Mikealson (Drabble) & Charles Vane (Headcanon) 4th October - Steve Rogers (Love Letter) & Clay Morrow (Love Letter) 5th October - Neal "Baelfire" Cassidy (Headcanon) & Phillip Graves (Headcanon) 6th October - Alex Keller (Love Letter) & Rollo (Blurb) 7th October - Harwin Strong (Headcanon) & Ramsay Bolton (Drabble) 8th October - Bruce Wayne (Drabble) & Kraven the Hunter (Headcanon) 9th October - Aethelred (Drabble) & Tom Riddle (Blurb) 10h October - Captain James Flint (Blurb) & Niklaus Mikealson (Headcanon) 11th October - Daryl Dixon (Blurb) & Negan (Headcanon) 12th October - Viktor Krum (Blurb) & George "Digger" Harkness (Drabble) 13th October - Captain John Price (Headcanon) & Cormac McLaggen (Drabble) 14th October - David Hale (Drabble) & Gaston (Drabble) 15th October - Clint Barton (Headcanon) & Aegon II Targaryen (Drabble) 16th Drabble - Gwayne Hightower (Blurb) & Miguel Galindo (Love Letter) 17th October - Adrian Chase (Blurb) & The Joker *Heath Ledger" (Love Letter) 18th October - The Beast (Headcanon) & Vladimir Makarov (Headcanon) 19th October - Alden (Love Letter) & Ceasar Martinez (Drabble) 20th October - Stefan Salvatore (Drabble) & John Walker (Headcanon) 21st October - Johnny "Coco" Cruz (Blurb) & Ivar the Boneless (Blurb) 22nd October - August Wayne Booth (Love Letter) & Troy Otto (Blurb) 23rd October - Ragnar Lothbrok (Blurb) & Damon Salvatore (Headcanon) 24th October - Theon Greyjoy (Love Letter) & Rumplestiltskin (Love Letter) 25th October - Bucky Barnes (Headcanon) & Criston Cole (Drabble) 26th October - Rick Flag (Love Letter) & Koing (Love Letter) 27th October - Simon "Ghost" Riley (Love Letter) & Killian Jones (Drabble) 28th October - Dewey Riley (Headcanon) & Billy Loomis (Blurb) 29th October - John Dorie (Drabble) & Viserys Targaryen (Drabble) 30th October - Matthias Helvar (Love Letter) & Baron Helmut Zemo (Blurb) 31st October - Robert "Bob" Floyd (Blurb) & Stu Macher (Headcanon)

#Heroes versus Villians #Halloween event 2024

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rosereyart · 8 years ago

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Disarm || Ivar The Boneless

"What's wrong? Didn't see that coming, Prince?"

A small excerpt from my Wattpad Novel, Disarm. Feel free to request Ivar Imagines by simply sending me an Ask.

Blurb: (O/C) Torhyl is a commander and has been asked to test the skills of Ragnar’s sons.

Warnings: Fighting?

The five travelled together to the secluded training location in silence. Torhyl originally kept even strides with Ubbe as he leads the crew but fell back purposefully. She fell back inconspicuously into a soft rhythm with Ivar. Torhyl admires as he carries his weight as well as the weight of his weapons on his arms.

"Are your arms growing tired, Ivar?" Hvitserk remarks snidely. "You seem to be falling behind."

Torhyl's face tightens with anger at the painful insult. Her immediate response would have been to put him in his place...rather physically, but she simply tightened her grip on the spear in her hand in order to refrain herself from doing something she may later regret.

"Perhaps we should all carry you, dear brother," Sigurd follows on with Hvitserk's slander. "Like a child."

Ivar's jaw clenches in rage. His whole body strains as he continues to pull himself faster than his already impressive pace. Torhyl felt the fire burn in her own stomach, the heat of anger and disgust.

"Ragnar did not tell me you were so strong, Sigurd," Torhyl comments innocently. "It must be quite a strain to carry your unusually large ego and your brother at the same time."

Ubbe snorts at the ridicule. Sigurd's face flushes over with an angry red hue as he continues on in silence. Torhyl smirks at her own comeback and looks down at Ivar below her. Ivar was already looking up at her, an amused grin playing on his lips. She simply sends Ivar a mischievous glance before continuing to walk in silence.

An opening the forest is revealed before them. Torhyl lips purse slightly at the view before her. She is not thoroughly impressed with the training system, the place being seemingly less equipped than her training camp, but she does see the potential of the place.

"What do you usually do first, Commander?" Ubbe asks Torhyl as she examines the props that surround her.

"Well, usually," Torhyl unloads her weapons and places them into a small neat pile. "I will spar with my men to see what skills we need to work on. Alas, that is what I do, this is your homeland, you show me what you do and I will follow your lead."

"We will spar in turns then," Ubbe affirms as he gathers up his sword. "Sigurd, you can go first."

Sigurd shoots Ivar a taunting sideways glance. Ivar gives Sigurd a indignant glare as he pulls himself up onto a stump. Torhyl withdraws her swords from her sword belt that lays on the ground at Ivar's feet. She takes it and spins it around her hand before raising it directly in front of her and pointing directly at Sigurd.

"Your move, Prince." Torhyl smirks at him.

Sigurd takes his sword and grunts as he takes a harsh swing at her. She blocks it easily and sends him stumbling to control his loose blade. He turns back towards her. She extends her arms and sends him a taunting look.

"That all you got?" Torhyl taunts.

He runs towards her and takes another controlled swing. She blocks each swing with precise accuracy. He takes another slash at her, but this time she ducks and sweeps his legs out from under him. He falls onto his back with a breathless thud.

Torhyl kicks his sword away from his loose grasp then crouches over him. She holds her cold blade against his throat.

"You do have incredible strength, but you use it loosely," Torhyl comments firmly, removing the blade from his jugular. "Control your arm, don't take long swings. Use your body as a guide. If you have to take a swing far from your body for leverage, you are not controlling your sword hard enough. Strength is a valuable trait, but control is the root of power."

Torhyl helps him to his feet and puts her self in her defensive stature once more. "Again."

Sigurd comes at her once more, this time his swings are controlled and precise, giving him more leverage against Torhyl. She held her ground well, each swing form Sigurd was deflected until she was able to push into him with a sharp offensive slash. He jumped away from the blade but lost his balance and stumbled slightly.

"I think your head is getting a little heavy for you." Tohryl ridicules playfully.

Sigurd charges her once more, this time his swings are supercharged with the rage pumping through his veins. With one harsh defence, she holds his blade in the air, frozen forces battling each other neither side daring to let up. She grunts as she twirls his blade around hers in a swift circular motion, causing the blades to slip sending Sigurd's flying into the dirt. Torhyl swiftly places the tip of her blade against his jugular once more.

Her face remains emotionless as she speaks to him once more. "Your anger...control it and it could be your best weapon...allow it to control you and it could very well be your downfall."

Torhyl lowers her sword and extends her hand to him. He shakes it firmly and she grips his shoulder with her other hand. "You have much promise in you, Sigurd, your father would be proud."

Sigurd gives her a polite nod as he collects his sword and prepares for his next spar. Hvitserk nods for Sigurd to join him off to the side and he eagerly agrees. Torhyl turns back to Ubbe and Ivar. Ivar mouth is open slightly, clearly impressed with what he has seen.

"Ivar," She says as she steps closer to him. "Let's see what you got."

Ivar doesn't even raise a brow as he reaches down to grab his sword. He grips the blade and spins it around in his hand, testing the weight of the object. Torhyl grins at her opponent as she raises her blade. She takes the first swing to which he blocks. She sends him an impressed look before hitting him with a few combos which he successfully deflects.

Torhyl skilfully takes a few slashes and is met with a solid block by Ivar. Ivar keeps her blade suspended in the air, held in place by his opposing force. She pushes harder to loosen his blade, but is caught off guard when his blade shoves her own away. He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, holding the cold steel of his blade against the sensitive skin of her jugular.

Ivar leans in close to Torhyl's ear and whispers, his hot breath tickling her skin. "What's wrong? Didn't see that coming, Commander?"

She lets out a light chuckle as she sends him a side glance. "I'm impressed, Prince."

Tohryl's eyes drop down to Ivar's lap, indicating for Ivar to look also. His eyes fall down to see the crafted metal of one of her knives pressed against abdomen. The edges of his mouth curl up into an impressed grin.

Tohryl put her mouth close to his, as she whispers her reply. "What's wrong? Didn't see that coming, Prince?"

#Ivar the Boneless #Ivar The Boneless Imagines #Imagine #Blurb #Fanfiction #Ivar the Boneless Fanfiction #Alex Hogh Andersen #Vikings #Vikings Imagines

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

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May I request smut prompts 11 "I heard shower sex is dangerous, but right now, I’m willing to take the risk." and 13 "You’re so much fun to touch.", with Ivar, please? 😊

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I hope you’ll like this, I used the Tinder Date! AU (hence I am tagging @youbloodymadgenius) and I hope that isn’t a problem, but if it is just let me know and I’ll rewrite this!

Have a nice day!

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex, Men Being Pigs, Hvitserk Being A Pig, Moving in Together.

Moving in with the love of your life felt damnably strange.

Although it was a formality since you had basically started living with Ivar three months in your relationship, casually dropping over at his place, even when he wasn’t there, mostly because you and Hvitserk would either be playing videogames or you’d cook for the forever-food-hungry boy.

‘Sometimes I wonder if I am your favorite of the two’ had mumbled once Ivar, who dreaded your closeness with his brother, although it would get him half of the time free meals, which he appreciated (if Hvitserk left him something).

And it was one of the reasons why he had suggested you two moving together.

‘Think about all the space we’d have for ourselves, without empty boxes of food or used condoms’ he had suggested one night, as you were watching ‘Criminal Minds’ at his house, on the small empty place without food and other strange stains on the sofa.

‘Oh that isn’t because of Hvitserk, it’s because you men are pigs’ you had replied and had even grunted, making Ivar tickle you, as you tried to stop him without too much conviction, and he almost laid you down on the dirtied sofa, making you shriek in disgust, as you gripped tight on him.

‘Say that you’ll move in with me’ although his tone was jokingly, his eyes had meant it, staring at you attentively as you gripped tight on his shoulder ‘… or I’ll drop you and let you figure out whether it’s yogurt or…”.

‘This is not fair’ you complained, as you moved an hand in Ivar’s hair, gently pulling on them as he moaned softly ‘… you aren’t giving me much choice’.

‘… because you shouldn’t think about it too long’ he commented, faking a harsh glare ‘… think about all the good sex we are going to have, all alone, without Hvitserk or Elaine barging in’.

He was still mad at that time Elaine had barged in your room, although you had evidently told her not to come home before six, to steal your sweater, making you and Ivar stop your ‘love-making’, wished you ‘good night’ and then moved away, disrupting the mood.

For the amount of two hours and then he was back at it like a rabbit.

‘I can’t believe that I changed you in a sex gremlin’ you joked softly, as he instead looked at you with a annoyed glance, although you could feel his eyes lowering themselves on your body, as he lowered you even more, making you yelp out ‘… ok ok, I am moving in with you’.

‘Are you serious?’ he had asked so so suddenly, growing serious as he gently tightened his hold onto you, bringing you upright in his arms.

‘Nope’ you had blurted out in his face, giggling lightly as he immediately dunked you ‘… I was joking! I was joking!’.

‘If I am a sex gremlin, you are a mean faerie’ he replied, keeping you slightly dunked this time against a small stain of what was definitely pizza, rotten from weeks of disinterest ‘… don’t play games with my heart: would you, mean faerie, move in with me?’.

‘Of course’ you had mumbled on his lips, as you had brought him in a sealing kiss.

And six months later you were finally resting after the mess of boxes you had had to unpack (with the awful help of Ivar’s brothers and Elaine, you were still disgusted on the flirting that had been going on between your old roommate and Bjorn), as you both tried to set up a small table on the ground since most of the furniture would be coming in tomorrow.

It was a rather funny thing and it was an amazing adventure.

You were actually thankful that he had suggested it.

Ivar was slouched down on the floor, as you tried to put a small tablecloth on a full box, putting on it the take-out boxes.

“… if anybody had told me that it would have been that bad to move an entire house, I would have paid somebody to do it” he mumbled softly, as he tried to get up, eventually accepting your help “… Gosh, don’t you have sweat in places it shouldn’t be”.

“… babe… don’t talk about your sweat kink in front of my burrito” you retorted softly, as you batted his hand away from the tortillas “… hey you don’t get any, after you didn’t do anything to stop the Elaine-Bjorn’s train”.

He laughed softly, and eventually you allowed him to gently eat a few of your chips, as you both talked about what remained to be done.

‘… thank God the bathroom is all set up” mumbled Ivar as you both finished your small dinner “I need a shower”.

“I need one too” you commented, looking at the late hour and realizing that you’d have to wake up early tomorrow “… what about we save water and we share one”.

“You know that in movies it always results in shower sex?” joked Ivar, although you could already see the familiar blush starting from the back of his neck, only worsening as you dropped down to kiss his neck “… and real shower sex sucks, even more when your partner is a cripple”.

“I also heard shower sex is dangerous, but right now, I’m willing to take the risk” you giggled softly, kissing up his ear, as you gently hugged him from behind, dragging your hand through his sweaty shirt, as you gently raised it, revealing that happy trail of black hair, you loved so so much “… and we have a very sexy bathroom chair you”.

He turned around to send you a ‘seriously’ look, but it didn’t hold his usual bitterness, as it always did when his disability was brought up.

Slowly with you, all those insecurities had washed away in your inner and stupid jokes.

“…you have the weirdest kinks” mumbled Ivar as you dropped an hand in his pants, making him hiss at the sudden contact, finding him hot and ready for you.

“And you…” your lips laced in a soft hickey on his neck, before biting the abused skin “You’re so much fun to touch”.

#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar The Boneless Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar The Boneless x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar The Boneless Imagine #Ivar Fic #Ivar The Boneless Fic #Ivar Drabble #Ivar Ask #Ivar Blurb #Ivar The Boneless Drabble #Ivar The Boneless Ask #Ivar The Boneless Blurb #Ivar Moodboard #Vikings

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years ago

Text

Μῦθος (Vοσταλγία Winter Blurb)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Μῦθος (mûthos): tale, legend, myth (Ancient Greek)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: Winter Blurb #10. A little fluff with Aghi (Valdís’ son) and the Reader facing that she really wants some babies of her own.

Word Count: 2282

Warnings: I don’t think so, just the usual and my writing.

A/N: I’m sorry for my absence, I just don’t have the energy anymore, idk. I’ll try my best to get stuff done more consistently, but I can’t make any promises. Thank you for your patience 😘

You walk into the main hall quickly, hurrying to get rid of the cold that seems to cling to your body even past all the layers of clothing, your eyes already searching for Ivar.

You find Aghi first, sitting in front of your husband with his back straight, attention on whatever Ivar is telling him. You notice with a tug of emotion in your chest that the boy is sitting straight, elbows resting on the table just like Ivar’s, as if to imitate him.

“But Sigrún knew that he was not worthy of her hand, so she rode to find Helgi so he could…” Ivar’s eyes lift to you as you approach, and you motion for him to continue on as you get closer to Aghi, who has his back turned to you. Ivar returns his attention to the boy, gesturing with his arm as he continues, expressively relaying an old story, “Could fight against Granmarr and his sons for h-…”

You interrupt the story by reaching for the boy, lifting him up and laughing at his startled little shrieks.

“What are you doing here, eh?” You ask, dodging a sharp movement of the boy’s head before pressing a kiss over his tousled blond hair. His shriek quickly turns to laughter, and you find yourself squeezing him in a quick embrace, before you move to sit down. Perching him on your lap as you sit on the bench he was in, you meet Ivar’s gaze and prompt, “I was told you were looking for me.”

He takes a moment longer than you expected to reply, long enough that you pay attention to his expression, to the soft smile that curves at his lips even if he hides his mouth behind the hand he casually holds up to it.

There’s something in his eyes, a strange intensity, an edge you know to be longing but you cannot understand what for.

“Yes, I was. You certainly took your time,” He replies finally, gaze seemingly reluctant to leave your own, but finally it does, looking at the boy. Ivar’s smile widens, brightens in a way that makes him all the more…approachable, human. You had never seen him smile like that. “But I found someone that kept me company. Isn’t that right, little man?”

Aghi answers with a toothy smile, nods his head with a proud jut of his head that makes your heart warm.

“Lord Ivar was telling me about Helgi,” Aghi tells you, big eyes with the same color as Valdis’ but lacking the burden the cruelty of the years and of men have done to the shine of that pale grey. “Do you know him?”

“I know of him, yes,” You lift your gaze to Ivar, prompting, “All the battles he fought. You know, Aghi, even in my homeland we hear of his battles for the maiden Sigrún.”

That is a lie, you only know of such tales, and vaguely at that, because of Sieghild and her insistence on raising you as familiar to her home as to yours. You have always wondered if it was not a means for her to keep her home alive and with her, if that insistence was born out of a need to have someone to see the world as she did, even if partly.

And so you listen as you did when your mother sat before you and spoke of her land and her legends, as you will again, when it is your children he tells these stories to; as Ivar relays the tale of Helgi and his Sigrún.

Your heart grows light with joy at the sound of Aghi’s laughter when Ivar tells him of the trading of insults between the brother of the hero and his enemy’s own brother, but it grows heavy with something else, a welcome weight, as you watch Ivar chuckle alongside the boy, breathed and young laugh that seems to startle him as it makes its way past his lips.

You find your lips curved into a foolish, lovesick smile as he gestures with his hands, his already expressive nature all the greater as he tells Aghi of how Sigrún’s brother was given a spear by Odin himself, and who was slain with it.

His pale blue eyes lift to you, and he gestures with his head.

“You know this part,” He prompts, “You like stories of love and tragic endings, after all.��

You meet Aghi’s big eyes and take a breath, telling him of how one night a girl saw a man riding into Helgi’s barrow, and the night of their reunion and all the time of their separation that came after.

“But they met again, when the Gods bid them to return to live another life,” You turn to your husband, finding him looking at you with that strange look again. “Isn’t that right?”

Ivar nods, leaning back on his seat, and says nothing.

Aghi keeps his attention on you, and with an adorably confused expression, he prompts, “Why do you like sad stories?”

“Huh? I don’t, I…I like love stories, they just happen to often have sad endings.”

“Why?”

“It makes them easier to tell, easier to remember.”

“Don’t you want the endings to be happy?”

“That is not the way they usually are, and we must accept that.”

“Mama says you haven’t accepted anything in your l-…”

“No, no, Aghi,” You interrupt, furrowing your lips to hide the smile that threatens to break past your resolve at the sound of Ivar’s muttered and how right she is. “You must never repeat the things your mother says about me.”

“She says that about the things you say about her,” He shrugs, seemingly frustrated with adults and their confusing ways. You chuckle to yourself, pressing another kiss to his hair. “Can I ask you something? About your Gods?”

“Of course, little one.” You reply, a hand smoothing over his ruffled hair. Too late you realize you’ve used the term of endearment your mother has always used on you.

“What are Keres?” He asks, and you turn your gaze to your husband for a moment, suspicion starting to take a hold of you. Ivar only smiles, motioning with his hand as to signal you better answer.

You settle Aghi better on your lap, and explain,

“They are daughters of Nyx, sisters to the Fates. They take the souls of the slain in battle to Hades,” Without turning your head, you lift a hand towards Ivar, “Don’t say it.”

“They sound like Valkyries.” It is Aghi who argues instead, a little hurriedly, uttering the words you tried keeping your husband from saying. Your eyes narrow, and you hesitate before saying anything.

The boy looks at you with big eyes, but they betray a mischievous edge to them, and his expression quickly crumbles into delighted glee at whatever he finds in your expression.

With an innocent giggle that makes you smile against your will, Aghi gives away the intention behind his question, and who told him about Keres in the first place.

“He is right, is he not?” Ivar presses, an equally mischievous small laugh leaving his lips, and you watch him offer the boy a wink when Aghi turns to look at him.

“Why do I have a feeling someone has already told you about Keres before me?” You ask Aghi, pressing your finger to the tip of his nose when he smiles, “What has he told you of them, little one?”

“That they go to battlefields, to choose from the slain to take with them, like Valkyries.”

“He asked if you tell me stories too, I told him one you’ve told me before,” Ivar supplies, and though something tugs at your heart about that, you haven’t forgotten he has set up Aghi against you.

One of the first tales of your homeland that you shared with Ivar, back in that hut in Aneridge, when he was just a Viking and you just a Priestess, was of the Keres, ruthless and avenging spirits of violent death. And, just as he does now, with the support of Aghi apparently, he insisted they were just Valkyries of a different name.

Furrowing your mouth to hide a smile, you insist,

“They are not the same.”

“But they have the same task.” The boy insists.

You reach again to smoothen his hair, but it is just like Valdís’, and for the life of you there is no way you can easily tame it.

“Mhm. Just like the Norns and the Moirai.”

“So they are the same too?”

You shake your head with a chuckle, “No.”

But at the same time Ivar insists,

“Yes,” Your husband’s smile widens when Aghi turns to him, clearly more interested in his perspective. With a gesture of his hand, he states, “The Greeks just like changing the name of things.”

Pressing your lips together at the sound of Aghi’s laughter, you turn to your husband, “Ivar.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Stop it,” You roll your eyes at his answering chuckle, but keep your attention on the young boy, explaining, “They have many things in common, but they are not the same.”

There’s the smallest of furrows between his brows that make him so strikingly similar to his mother in that moment.

“But if they’re not the same, who will come for you when you get killed?”

“When?” Ivar repeats, a chuckle choking his attempt to drink from his goblet.

“I will not die anytime soon, much less in battle,” You assure the boy, lifting your brows expectantly as you continue, “You promised you would one day go fight across the sea, and you would put white sails on your boats so I would know you are safe, remember?”

“Like Theseus.”

“Like Theseus,” You confirm, nodding your head. “That is still many years ahead, but I plan to live to see it. You have nothing to worry about, little one.”

You know you haven’t answered his question, and to be honest the reason is that you do not have an answer.

Perhaps you do, and you just do not like that answer. Many times you have had to wonder what will happen to all the people you have loved and the people that have loved you when the Underworld summons you home, people of different Gods and different ways, different Fates.

Many of the people you have come to love are meant to go somewhere you cannot wish to follow when the time comes for death to claim them, and that is not something that is easy for you to accept, or even think about.

“We will meet again, I know this,” Galla tells you, and you can hear the marching feet of the Byzantine soldiers that approach Eleusis in the tremble of her warm voice. “I shall spend my life seeking to impress the Gods so I can join you in the Elysian Fields, my friend.”

As Hiereia of the Dread Gods, there is nothing you ought to want more than to join them in the Underworld and claim your place in the Fortunate Isles. As Daughter of Athens and Sparta, as a Greek by the blood that runs through your veins, you know you will join your ancestors in the afterlife when the time comes and there’s a part of you older than yourself that longs for that day to come.

“I have many people I wish to see again. My sister, my father and mother, and many friends the years took from me,” Sieghild tells you, green eyes focused on the flickering flames. “Yet I-…your Gods and mine cannot be friends, little one, and I must fight to earn Valhalla knowing my only daughter won’t ever join me in it.”

As daughter to a Viking shieldmaiden, you have heard of this place she speaks of, this afterlife of drinking and fighting and celebrating, and a part of you has always been intrigued by it. As wife to a Viking man, by the ring on your finger and the promises you have made, you cannot help but wish you will be joined by your descendants and his, and if it has to be in the afterlife of strange Gods the sacrifice seems worth it.

You bring yourself back to the present, turning your attention back to the man you married as he tells Aghi of an adventurer far greater than Theseus could ever be, and you feel warmth in your chest at the challenge in the curve of Ivar’s smile when he relays a story trying to overshadow the one you have told before of Theseus and his journey. And you wonder if it is wrong to hope, even if you cannot yet believe, that it is all the same albeit with a different name, that your Gods and his are one and the same and whatever differences there are between them are just something lost in translation.

Because it doesn’t seem fitting, to think of these two words so far apart from one another.

Not when you have Greek blood in your veins and yet have had a Viking ring dipped in blood placed on your finger, not when the heart that was given life in Greece belongs to someone that has never even stepped foot in it.

Not when your children will one day inherit a space between two worlds, between his and yours, for both in blood and in belief your children will be as Greek as they will be Viking.

It doesn’t seem fitting to think of those two worlds as apart from one another any longer, not any more fitting that it is for you to think of your future apart from Kattegat and your past from Eleusis.

____ ____ ____

Thank you for reading! I’m sorry if this isn’t very good, it just wouldn’t leave my head so I figured I’d post it, hope it was alright

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία winter blurbs

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