ivar fanfic


Ivar x plus size!reader

Holy shit he is so hot, I would give anything to be Y/N

You were headed towards the main hall, playing with the strings of your corset. You had to have it made specifically for you – the other corsets did not fit you without completely blocking your ability to breathe. You brush an annoying strand of hair out of your face, smirking when a boy trips over himself, too caught up in staring at you. “Are you ok?” You chuckled, your smile softening as you peered over at the boy. His cheeks reddened, and he stumbled back on his feet, awkwardly brushing off the dust from his clothes. “Yes, yes, I’m alright Lady Y/N, nothing to worry about.”

Your eyebrow quickly went up at the mention of your name, looking at the boy with confusion. You haven’t spoken to him previously, and Kattegat wasn’t exactly the smallest village. His eyes widened with realization and his cheeks only darkened further. “No, no, please don’t misunderstand milady, it is only that .. uh, Prince Ivar speaks very uhm, often of you.”

Your eyes lit up immediately at the comment, twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” Your sultry voice made the boy even more uncomfortable, as he quickly excused himself and headed off in the opposite direction. You couldn’t help but wear your smirk all the way to the main hall. You couldn’t help but love the way your dresses made boys stop and stare.

Upon your entrance, you immediately received the bright smile of Aslaug, who had initially been critical of you but  grew to love your confident and assertive manner, as well as several glares thrown your way.

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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
Ivar is having dreams of you, of the goddess he sees on walking his nights. You prove him things, show him things and he can’t handle your ways or the fact they are just dreams. Until one day battle proves him wrong.

Request for: @kolvanismirk
Warnings: Smut - Violence - Ivar point of view
Words: 3535

Taglist: @missbrightlyred @itharley @burningsunshin3 @float-autumn-leave @inthenameofodin @zombie-zayde @decaffeinatedeaglefart @nothingbuthappydays @dani-si @ivarbarnes @supervalcsi @sweetvengeancee @mysticsthinking @odins-missing-eye @kirah34 @laketaj24 @tiredofthisgeneration @mcuimxgine @sugakookiexx @dangerousvikings @natmors

Dreams should supposed to be dreams, drawings of ones deepest desires and thoughts. This wasn’t that, this was a vivid as a stormy night on sea, this was warm and alive, more alive than every time he dreamed about you before. Your shadow danced on the fire before his tent, walking on your tips, graceful, balanced you came into his eye sight. Ever since you entered his dreams you left him speechless, he was gazing at you, feeling the insecurity crawl through his chest as he looked up to you.
‘Ivar.’ You smiled to him, a smile he couldn’t place. A smile that wasn’t charming or graceful, not seductive or gentle. It was a smile containing all of that and he pulled the corner of his lips up in a short tug. ‘Did you miss me?’ You tilted your head. You were looking to the way he pulled his body up on his hands, how he rested his back against the headboard. As a king he desired much, he desired you but it didn’t left his lips as your fingers scour over the sheets that covered his legs. He looked down to the edges of his small miserable legs, trying to figure out maybe why they were so miserable and why you were here again, in his dreams.
‘Who are you?’ He asked, looking up to you, a woman dressed in a light dress, with flowers braided through your hair. He almost found it to be godlessly. It had to have a meaning, all of this, you visiting his dreams, but without asking he wouldn’t know … now he was asking.
‘I’m here to help you King Ivar, I’m here to lead you the way.’ You answered him, crouching down aside the bed to grace him with one of your elegant smiles.
‘I don’t need guidance.’ He found his voice to be harder, maybe annoyed by the fact you were talking riddles to him.
‘You need some things at least, reassurance, prove.’ You’re fingers scour over the fabrics that covered his legs. He tensed, looking confused, looking lost as he felt something change within him.
‘Prove of what?’ He shifted his deep blue eyes back on yours and you lifted your fingers up from his legs.
‘Prove of enjoyment, pleasure.’ You answered him honestly. It didn’t took him long before he knew where you were talking about and his eyes shifted back to his legs as you stood up.
‘I can’t,’
‘It’s just a dream right? Isn’t that what you always say?’ You asked him polite. Ivar looked aside, to the way you crumbled your dress between your fingers up before you straddled yourself down over his lap. Ivar gasped, feeling the vibration of your weight spreading a certain warmth throughout his body. It was a dream, it was just a dream. ‘Are you going to let yourself define by one slave?’ You asked him, fingertips resting against his jaws. Ivar looked to the middle of your throat before he slowly looked up to you. He felt his hate, his misery after what happened with Margrethe. The rumors that he couldn’t please a woman where hardly a part of his rage these days. He was born to lead but apparently he needed to do that without a son to give his legacy to. Despite you foresaw otherwise. He rolled his jaws while looking into your eyes. You smiled again, lowering your lips down to his. How could this felt so real? The pressure, the taste, Ivar shivered throughout his body while you moved your lips. The uncertainty, the feelings of them pulling him back now. He grabbed your shoulder, pushing you back.
‘You are not real.’ He hissed between his lips.
‘Is that what you think? Or is that what you want to believe?’ You ask him, digging your nail in his chest, pulling it down so he had a feel of reality.
‘You are not real.’ He repeated again, angry on himself on letting this happen. Why where you always returning in his dreams, where you a goddess guiding him through or where you just a fragment of his desires. You nodded, almost respectfully before clipping the leaf formed clips lose from your shoulders. The dress stroke in a fluent motion down over your body, assembling around your hips. His jaws clenched as he took in a breath, looking over your nakedness in this dark night. ‘I’m as real as you let me Ivar, let a dream not stop you from greatness, taste it.’ You gestured, moving your hips a little deeper in his lap. He gasped, feeling his body reacted on what he saw and felt. You were bringing your head back closer and he let you. His fingers found the naked skin of your side before sliding to the back, lifting all the way up over your spine. Feeling your lips, feeling your movements, it wasn’t real. But he let it, he grabbed for your hair at the back, pulling at it so your head kicked up, his lips leaving traces over your neck. The soft sign leaving your lips encouraged him. Ivar never felt like he felt now. His free hand touched your breast before he took it and knead it between his hand. Your reacting, the little moan, the way you rocked your hips slowly into his left him speechless for he felt something react of his own. He grabbed you around you waist turning so you landed with your back in the bed. His hand grabbed for your throat, not knowing how to act on the madness of this dream, not knowing how to feel about his own body. There was so much uncertainty that it made him angry. He clenched his fingers around your throat, hissing before pulling your head up and slamming it back in the bed.
‘You are not real!’ He growled, wanting to see you turn red for the lack of oxygen. But it was a dream and you just smiled, finger raking over his body, grabbing between his legs to what was hard and ready. He shivered, his whole body burning before he lowered his head again and kissed your lips. He left your throat, fingers eagerly grabbing into your skin, into your breasts, almost aggressively.
‘This is you Ivar, fully alive.’ You panted against his lips as he ripped the dress from around your waist. You made him feel alive, for the first time a dream came actually true and it wasn’t even real. He felt the pulse between his disturb legs, he felt the sweat covering his forehead, he saw you close your eyes, moaning when his fingers pinched the soft flesh between your legs. There wasn’t a foreplay in all of this, he felt alive and he wanted this, he wanted this since he chocked Margrethe to silence. That damn slave. His mouth became intoxication, biting down your skin, rocking against you while you started to erase the cloths from his body. He was dreaming, he was dreaming, he kept repeating that when he slammed himself inside of you, opening his own mouth for the impact he brought down on your body. ‘You can, you see?’ You panted, proving him what he could do. Ivar hissed, grabbing for your hair as he moved his body into yours, over and over. Enjoying the ring of his own voice over your lips, enjoying the screams out of your throat. He enjoyed the feeling, how it felt being inside a woman. He grunted, going hard, leaving marks on your body while you scratched your nails over his chest, red marks starting to bleed. ‘You can, you will, you are the greatest King walking this earth and this is just,’ you moaned through your words, feeling the heights turning around in your body. With one last rock he came, grunting like a wild beast he dropped down on you. You strangled your fingers through his hair. ‘let me prove that to you my king.’ You whispered in his ear, fully out of breath. He turned his head, a nose stroking against your cheek as he looked into your bright eyes from aside.
‘How can I believe a goddess like you if this all is a dream?’
‘Because we will meet again.’

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Warnings: Angst and Fluff.


“Come on, Y/N! Surely you can move faster than that.” The raven-haired Viking shouted. “I will be forced to begin a countdown if you do not make progress soon.”

“Apologies, Master. I am trying my best to locate it." 

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My Prince

Ivar x deaf!Reader

There is simply not enough Ivar fluff out there to satisfy my thirst

Originally posted by smiletotheshadow

You played with the daisies you had picked up, starting to braid them together carefully as you laid in your lover’s lap. Ivar sighed, shaking his head while smiling and playing with your soft hair. He couldn’t help but stare at you - you looked so beautiful when you were relaxed. “Y/N” he muttered softly, but quickly caught himself as he realized you weren’t looking at him. He often forgot of your condition. You were born deaf, but you soon learned to read lips. From a young age you were excluded from most child games, as you couldn’t orientate yourself as well as the others, and the other kids did not have the patience to talk slowly enough for you to understand. That’s how you found yourself often sitting beside Ivar, the crippled boy who stared longingly at his running brothers. Your friendship seemed to have no choice but blossom, and turn into something more beautiful. You relied on each other, understood and loved each other in a way no one could. He was your ears, always on the lookout and keeping you safe.

You smiled at the memory, clenching the daisies you were holding closer to your chest. You couldn’t help but remember your first kiss. An alarm rang through Kattegat, while you were alone in your house, preparing a meal for your mother. You didn’t hear anything, and naturally you were not aware that your village was under attack. You had jumped when you felt a hand suddenly grab your ankle, shaking it violently enough for you to drop the egg you were holding. Panicked, you turned around quickly, ready to defend yourself when you saw Ivar. His face was red and his eyes were wild – large and filled with panic. 

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“You are good at taming wild things”

Originally posted by writingstudent

“You are good at taming wild things,” Ivar teased, as you walked with the pack of five wolfhounds at your heels.

“These dogs have more manners than most men in this village; and they lick their own balls! Sneaking up on someone like that! How dare you-“ You scolded at the rude intrusion… before you realised who it was that interrupted your walk.

Your prince, Ivar the Boneless, Son of Ragnar leaned against a tree taking pause from his crutches. You didn’t have time to question what he was doing this far out, on what you thought was a private trek known only to you.

He was a dangerous and unpredictable man, having killed his brother Sigurd. You had prevoked him enough without intention and didn’t wish to face his wrath so cut your retort short.

But Ivar knocked his head back in laughter. “Maybe it is you that is the wild one after all,” he said licking his bottom lip, looking you up and down.

You blushed despite yourself, pulling your cloak tighter around you.

“We are all alone up here,” he mused looking around the landscape. “You made it uneasy to follow you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “I’m not that interesting my prince, why follow me at all?” you tried to deflect.

“I am interested in how you train something to do your bidding,” he continued in a low sing song voice that gave you goosebumps. “Do you think it’s best to overpower them into submission? Or better to reward good behaviour in pleasing you?” He raised his eyebrow and you knew it wasn’t the dogs he was talking about.

Your voice cracked a little as you answered, “I do not beat my animals. If you are good to them they will be loyal to you.”

Ivar reached his fingers to rub the ears of the nearest dog. “I hear they are greedy…. that once they have a taste of something they like they always want more.” His blue eyes pierced yours. “I am much the same.”

Your heart rate picked up and you were suddenly all too aware how dense the forest was around you, the thick canopy of shadows, the still blanket of air. If you were to scream out here in fear or pleasure nobody would hear you. “What is it you have a taste for my prince?”

He leaned from the tree towards you, brushing your hair back from your collar bone deliberately with his fingers as you stood frozen.

Your body tingled under his touch and seeing your reaction his eyes flashed with excitement.

He began to wrap his fingers around your throat and whispered against your skin as he kissed it, “Let me make it obvious.”

Handle Me

Ivar x Reader 

Warning: possible triggers, mature themes

Originally posted by all-about-that-fandoms

You shifted awkwardly in your chair, hands immediately going to smooth down the skirt of your floor length dress. It was not often that you wore such dresses, or any dresses for that matter. Being born on a farm and raised without a woman in your life, you were not a graceful being. You were a shield maiden, a fierce fighter. This has earned you several scars among your body, that littered it alongside the several tattoos that you had been given as sign of comradeship with your other fellow soldiers.

It was an understatement to say that you felt uncomfortable as you sat down next to the usual flower picking girls around the table. You were sitting next to Ubbe, who had Margrethe on his other side. He must have picked up on your awkwardness when you had first entered the dining hall and quickly motioned for you to sit down next to him. You were very grateful, and finally realized why almost all the women in Kattegat melted at the sight of him – not only was he attractive, but he was also a very caring man.

A hand suddenly clamped upon your lower calf. You let out a small yelp, and your battle reflexes immediately took over, making you take whatever you had in your hand (which happened to be a fork) and slam it onto the arm that was holding your leg in a vicious grip. Luckily for your attacker, he quickly moved his arm away. Your fork was now stuck halfway into the wooden floor, its hilt bent oddly towards a side.


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Imagine Another Viking Saying He Would Fight Ivar For You

Originally posted by mary394

From the distance you could hear the bustling commotion and raised familiar voices. With panic drumming your heart, your feet pounded the ground as you began to run through the weaving streets to the open town square, pushing through the gawking townsfolk that surrounded the two men at the centre.

They seemed mid confrontation and you strained your ears to hear and catch up as you nudged closer to the front jostling people out of your way.

It was just as you feared. As you had begged him not to do.

“You think just because you are a Ragnarsson you can take whatever you want? Well it is not true. I stake my claim to y/n,” Ingmar threatened, his chest puffed out his sword in his hand as he bellowed in bravado.

You gasped and the people closest to you turned to stare at you, but those closer to the front couldn’t tear their eyes away from the action.

Ingmar was breathing tightly, his nostrils flared in anger. But Ivar stood casually facing him with a wide smile speaking slowly and softly. “It is not because I am a Ragnarrson I assure you.” He licked his lips for effect, “I am Ivar the Boneless and the bloodthirsty. I will surpass my fathers stories before I am half his age. I know I will have y/n because the gods want her to be my queen and I will give you just this one chance to turn and exile yourself from this place before the tides turn. Otherwise I will drink your blood this night from your fathers cup and I will have your head turned on a pig spit, roasting over the fire for all to see..”

Ivar turned his finger around and around emulating a meat spit, his tongue in his cheek.

Ingmar shifted his weight from one foot to the other, thrown by Ivars animal confidence. But catching sight of you peeking through the faces he found new strength and shouted again, “Only a cripple would make such an empty threat. I am a real man and I challenge you to her hand.”

The men around you sucked in their breath over their teeth at the insult, some taking an involuntary step back.

You wished more than anything he had kept his mouth shut. You tried to call out but your friend covered your mouth with both her frantic hands to hush you; hissing that one word from you could cause a riot.

Everyone steeled for Ivars reaction.

But he just laughed.

Heartily at first, as if it came easy to him. Then it got more and more animated and frantic and shrill… something about the way it possessed him unnerved Ingmar to his bones, leaving a feeling of slick chill in the back of his throat.

Ivar flashed him a smile, “Very well,” He jested lifting his axe, “Shall we begin?”


pairing: Ivar x Reader

fandom: vikings

warnings: spanking, choking

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @ivarthebonelessx (I got your back here, don’t you worry)

Warm sunlight tickled your skin. The rays of sunshine were all over your body, bathing it in a golden light that almost made you look like a statue, lying on the ground with the green grass which provided an enjoyable cold contrast.
This was one of your favourite spots, away from everyone. The wind made a nice howling sound as it blew past the hills and through the small valley further down. You could see the sea from up here and often got lost in the movements of the waves for hours.
It was so easy to forget time up here, though not today. Dark thoughts clouded your mind and it was hard to concentrate on all the beauty around you.

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Raven (NSFW)

Originally posted by all-about-that-fandoms

Ivar x Reader

Warnings: smut, threesome, pet names

A/N: So, um, yeah, this happened. I’m almost 3 seasons into Vikings so I’m not even to where Ivar is an adult yet but all these winterboneless fics got me fucked up because I’m a sucker for a carnal man.

“And now we celebrate!” Ragnar announced as he held his cup in the air.

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Marked by the Gods

Originally posted by wildling-heart

A/N: I liked this request, maybe a way too much. Enjoy! 🖤

Gif belongs to: @wildling-heart.

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless x Reader.

Requested by anonymous: Could you please do #18 “I came to say goodbye” for Vikings? Where the reader  eyes are two different colors and doesn’t fit in until Ivar makes her feel accepted. Smut and fluff, maybe?

Warnings: Bullying, stupid kids, stupid adults. Mentions of murder and violence. Smut. Fluff.

Words: 3,500 (In my defense, the idea was simply amazing).

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Won’t You Be My Salvation?

Request by Anonmyous for a Persephone/Hades themed piece with Ivar the Boneless

Hope you enjoy 🌸

Originally posted by nwetss

On his first trip to England with his father Ragnar, Ivar had been kept captive. He played games with the prince, but he spent most of his days alone, trying not to let the guards think he was anything but a mere cripple while he waited to see what fate had in store. It was difficult being away from everything he knew, from people who spoke his language, even the foods he was used to. But isolation had become a familiar feeling now, and he had become dull to its ache years ago. He had never been able to join in the games with the other children, to go fighting with his men, or compete in the wedding races with his brothers. So he had learned to amuse himself with his thoughts.

However, things changed the day he saw her. He was leaning against a barred window frame and he saw a girl, with hair, not like the spun gold blonde of his people, but red as fire, crossing the market far below. She had woven flowers through a circle plait in her hair, and carried a basket as she walked through the village. In Kattegat the women only wore flower crowns on their wedding day, but here with blossoms woven through her hair came the girl, heaving vegetables and herbs with her. He hated being different from the people around him but she didn’t seem to care. The people around her showed no sign of this being unusual so he realised she must go to such efforts with the wildflowers regularly. She must have a gentle touch. His interest growing, Ivar shuffled with a grunt at the effort to move with her, to watch her walk through, like the colours of spring through the muddy square. Then she was gone too quickly.

It became a daily ritual now, to look out for the girl. He heard her often before he saw her for she loved to laugh. He wondered how she got her work done as she made time to she speak kindly to almost everyone who passed her. She seemed to be just a humble girl but the whole town was taken with her as if she were a princess. Their faces softened when she spoke to them, their tears dried, their hearts strengthened. He didn’t know what she was saying but he could guess. He had never seen anyone like this before. She walked without fear of attack – bringing no blade nor shield with her like the women of Kattegat. She treated each animal like a friend whether she sprinkled crumbs of bread for the birds that now followed her on her journeys or petted the wolf hounds that guarded the gates. She was not of his world. She seemed like something pure; and though he knew her days must not be without their troubles, she acted as if she were free.

He had time to wonder what it would be like to be a part of her world. But he realised too quickly, that he would never fit. He was broken, bloodthirsty, ever seeing the schemes in men’s hearts before he tore them out. He was ruined already. But perhaps he could drag her into his world. When he left England he could take her into his boat and she could then bring him that light he had so long been craving, though he never realised it until now.

Shortly after, he pieced together that she was bound to a place called York. Moving with her family to a richer province, away from this place, sensing that if Ragnar Lothbrook had arrived, trouble would soon follow one way or another. He felt so angry that she would be gone from his sight, but he made a silent vow to himself that he would come back to England, with a great army, and he would find cause to go to York… and then he would take her.

Time passed and York had fallen. A priest had been drowned with the molten metal of his cross. The houses were looted for their goods, the men had been overcome so easily on this, a day of drunkenness and prayer for the weak English. Ivar now searched high and low for the girl with red hair, the girl who looked like Spring.

It took a long time for him to find her, but his men had discovered and kept her locked into her home on his orders. His heart beating in his chest he burst through the door on his crutches, looking at the upturned table, the broken vase smashed on the floor, but seeing no girl. He heaved his body through a back door to a small enclosed plot of garden, rich in vegetables, flowers trailing up the stone walls, and one girl with hair of flame sat on the grass her skirts around her, her face white with fear. She must have felt safer out here than she had in the raided house.

“What is your name?” He asked, cautious to pronounce the foreign words as best he could. Her eyes widened at the sound, and trembling she said, “Persephone.” She began then to ramble, to talk too quickly and he could not follow so let out a roar of frustration and she silenced herself. He felt a stab in his heart that he had frightened her.

He towered above her in his crutches so with some labour, cast them aside and thudded onto the grass beside her so they could be of similar height.

“I am Ivar,” he said, hesitating at following on with the rest of his normal title.

He showed her his empty hands to show that he held no weapon and meant her no harm, and though she shuffled on the grass he knew she understood. He smiled. She was much more beautiful than he remembered. Her skin shone, her hair still littered with flower heads as he remembered though some of them were now crushed probably in an earlier struggle. He opened his mouth, shut it again, then spoke in a calm voice, a mixture of pleading and commanding, “This world doesn’t need you. I need you. All of you. I need you to be mine.”

Persephone clutched onto the grass beneath her digging her fingers into it to hold her in place in her panic. She answered but slower this time, and he loved the sound of her sweet voice though he recoiled at her words. “Your world is all death and violence. I would die! How could I flourish in a world of decay and blood?”

Ivar crawled along the ground beside her and though she shirked back he reached for her anyway, his fingers not touching, but tracing the outline of her face. “You would not die for I would not let you. I am Ivar the Boneless, loved by the gods, so I get decree over who dies or not on my land. Even you at your worst would bring more to life and promise to Kattegat than I have seen in all my years.”

The screams of York sounded far behind them as he spoke, the last stragglers being dealt with. The wind rippled through his hair dishevelling it and for just a moment she felt a longing to belong… to someone, to somewhere, now that her home was surely gone. He had blood smattering his face and yet… there was something in his ice blue eyes that compelled her. She could see that he was in love with her; but how she had no idea as he was a stranger to her. So she remained silent.

At long last he broke the silence.

“You are Christian yes?”

Persephone nodded the flower crown around her forehead slipping slightly.

“Christians believe in salvation.” Ivar’s blue eyes cut right through her and stopped her heart beating as he spoke quietly,. “Won’t you be mine?”

Deep Red

pairing: Ivar x Reader

fandom: vikings

warnings: knife play, blood

I don’t know what time it is where you are, but here it’s past midnight so happy birthday! @ivarthebonelessx

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk @is-that-not-something @un-education

Growing up as a slave would have been hard enough but growing up as Ivar’s slave was brutal. You had to thank Aslaug for that. She thought having someone his age around to care for him would be good. He certainly did have his fun with you, you not so much.
You had thought at some point he’d get tired of making you suffer but his creativity only seemed to grow with age. He always managed to find new ways to torture you. 

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Originally posted by dangerousvikings

A/N: I loved writing this and I hope you guys like as much as me. Enjoy! 💕

Gif belongs to: @dangerousvikings.

Requested by: @geekandbooknerd.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (modern AU).

Warnings: Jealous Ivar (trust me this is a huge warning).

Words: 1,250.

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A Broken Warrior

Modern AU 
Soldier Ivar x Reader
A Broken Warrior: One-shot, 10,759 words.
(Treat yourself to a glass of wine while reading this. Or two. It really is that long. One day I will learn my lesson. One day…)
Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Amputation. Very, very mild descriptions of sexual intercourse. 
All of the Heathen Army’s amazing Modern AU Ivar fics inspired me to go in all out and write a one-shot for two of my favourite things - Ivar and uniforms!
It was meant to be a little fluff fic, then it progressed onto a medium angst fic but in the end it just ended up being a big, old mess of hurt/comfort because I just can’t quit. It’s ended up being REALLY long so I hope it isn’t too difficult to follow. I realised about 2/3rds of the way through that this should have been a series but I couldn’t bring myself to start again since I have Healing Hands to finish. 

As a little girl, you never knew what kind of man you’d end up loving when you grew up. Sometimes you imagined being the wife of a doctor, or maybe the wild, leather-wearing lover of rock star. Occasionally, you even saw yourself marrying an astronaut or even becoming the glamorous girlfriend of a famous football player. The one thing you’d never imagined was falling head over heels for a soldier but that was exactly what happened when Ivar Lothbrok walked into your empty bar on a quiet Tuesday afternoon.

As a student in a big city, you knew that you had to get a part-time job to help yourself through college. Back in your own home town, your parents had owned a local diner so the logical option was to seek employment as a waitress. It wasn’t difficult to find work tending tables in a place that had both a university and a military base so soon enough, you started working at a local watering hole. It didn’t take very long for you to get a promotion to a bartender and after a few weeks of training, your manager felt comfortable enough to leave you alone on quiet week nights. It was during one of these slow weekdays that a group of three men and two women crashed through the doors, laughing cheerfully as they collapsed into a booth at the back of the bar.

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Everything tastes better off the Devil's tongue

Ivar x Reader

Warning: Violence, Fraternal Abuse, General Ivar, 

A/N: Sorry for being inactive, Ivar the muse and his brothers have been neglecting me these days :(

Originally posted by all-about-that-fandoms

You smiled happily, twirling in your flowing white dress. 

The Nordic music flowed through your veins and bounced off the trees surrounding you. The Vikings had just come back from a successful raid and they were currently celebrating their well-doing. They were so happy that they also had invited their prisoners, hence your brother’s and your presence. 

You were the sons of a Saxon lord, whose land was now under Viking influence. Gathering courage your father had initiated an (unsuccessful) revolt against the Vikings. In order to make sure that the earl would not strike again, they took you as political prisoners. Actually, Ivar took you as a wife. 

 "Y/N ?“ 

 You turned around as your name was spoken hesitantly on foreign lips. The accent with which it was pronounced made your lips involuntarily twitch upwards. Ivar was laying by your feet, a soft smile gracing his lips. He was not accustomed to such a beautiful sight. Your eyes twinkled with happiness as you sat down next to him, curling your legs into your side. 

 ” Yes Ivar ?“ 

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Imagine Ivar trying to hide his crush on you

Originally posted by ravens-of-kattegat

“He was awfully chatty,” Ivar glowered as Knote sauntered away from the pier. “What a stupid smirk he has. It as if the gods despised him so much -they cursed him so even when he was happy he looked like a toad.” He chuckled to himself.

“-Can you imagine being the poor thrall that has to bed that? Even when he is satisfied he would make your skin crawl.”

You wriggled on the pier edge uncomfortable.

“No. No I can’t imagine being his thrall,” you snipped tight lipped.

Ivar seemed to smirk himself at this, but suppressed it by pressing his lips together to contain it.

“Why must you hate everyone Ivar? Is it not exhausting to find everyone infuriating and beneath you?” You snapped uncharacteristically, growing tired of him pushing away everyone who was nice to you.

Ivar started as if stung, a look of panic sweeping his face only for a second. He crossed his arms. “Why are you being so defensive of Knote?” His jaw set.

You waved your hand exasperatedly to where Knote had been standing a moment ago, “Because he’s a fine man Ivar. You have no need to be cruel to him. He just wanted to listen to the waves awhile with us.”

Ivar snorted. “No need? It is not the waves he wanted to listen to.”

“-and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come now! You cannot be that blind, he was flirting with you the entire time. Everyone flirts with you if you would only stop to notice. Everyone.”

Laughter bubbled in your stomach out of nowhere dissolving your anger. “Ivar! You are so ridiculous! Ah! You do make me laugh. I have no suitors; and even if I did you know I would not leave Kattegat behind.” You met his eyes reminding him of your childhood promise to always be close to him.

Ivar stared out to the ocean.

“So you really are that blind then,” he mused, mostly to himself.

What you felt when you were with him

Ivar x Reader 

a/n: another bit of fluff, this might be a little different from the normal :) 

Originally posted by thefacesofdeath

You were waiting impatiently in front of the healer’s tent. You wrung your hands together nervously - you knew that Ivar was going to be alright, but knowing that he was in such deep pain and you could do nothing about him always bothered you greatly. You had always been aware of his existence, who in Kattegat didn’t know of the crippled prince who was destined to greatness and fame by the seer? However, you had truly met him during one of your raids. You were a fierce shield maiden, and although you might have not been the strongest, you were one of the deadliest due to your wit. All Viking warriors in their right mind respected your ideas and suggestions when it came to war strategy. In fact, you had been invited by the Ragnarsson’s to join them in dining so that you could discuss the plan of attack. You had arrived to their cabin on the large Viking ship, and opened the door swiftly and quietly without knocking; you wanted to see the way that they acted with each other so that you could better understand them - and pick enemies and allies. 
The scene in front of you was not entirely shocking, but not expected either. Ubbe and Hvitzervik were attempting to restrain Ivar, shouting loud curses at both him and Sigurd, who only kept encouraging the crippled man to a fight. Ivar’s knife whizzed by his brother’s head, missing it only by a few centimeters, only due to the fact that Sigurd had ducked last minute.

You coughed lightly, making everyone freeze. “You called me.” You cocked an eyebrow at the obviously dysfunctional family and began taking light and confident steps towards the center of the room.

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Feel at ease

A/N: Today is the birthday of my beloved sister, @ivarswickedqueen. I made this as a present. Sister, I love you. ❤️

Pairing: Ivar The Boneless x Reader.

Warnings: Sigurd being a jerk? And obvious, smut.

Words: 1009 that fucking word.

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Play Dirty

A/N: This was requested me a million years ago by my babe @ivarswickedqueen, I hope you like it babe! 🖤 I even made a moodboard. 😏 The pictures aren’t mine but the collage is. Enjoy! 

Pairing: Punk!Ivar x Reader.

Warnings: Smut and an uncommon piercing. 😏 

Words: 2,000.

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Pairing: Ivar x Reader (Very Dark Ivar)

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Fluff, Murder, Blood, Violence, Blackmail, Drug use and Sex (Basically anything you would normally see on Sons Of Anarchy,  Sopranos or Boardwalk Empire)

Word Count: 33,254

Theme: Tainted Love - Marilyn Manson 

Thank you for the Mood-board  @meeeeeeeeeps  😘

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