Ivar the Boneless Imagines

Take a Break

You didn't have time for Ivar.

Your father was out raiding and your mother had passed. That meant for you, you had to care for your new home with father not having found another bride. So yes, the thralls were working the fields but you had a hefty list of yourself inside: skimming milk, making cheese, preserving fruits and vegetables, making a brew, sweeping, scrubbing, cooking, dusting, changing the straw out, weaving and sewing and–

"Ivar just get it out, what do you have to tell me?" You asked, running around the large wooden bed in the middle of your father's room. There were boats spotted. He would be home soon. Everything had to be in perfect condition when he came back, just like if your mother was still alive.

"Sit down." Ivar panted. Your lover dragged himself to follow you about the room like he had for much of the morning. Anytime that he tried you were supposedly busy. He couldn't wrangle you away from the house for a few minutes on the beach or in the river.

"I don't have time. Just say what you have to say." You pulled the sheets upon your father's bed. There was something different about Ivar today. He was cool headed for much of the morning, but more and more you saw him become his usual cranky ass self. Your little brother at no more than twelve years old tried to push you to sit.

"He has to talk to you." He said, picking up the basket of laundry you fussed over. "It'll just be a minute!"

"I don't have time to talk to Ivar, Josurr." You whined, trying to take a mental count of everything you had done. You stood up just as quickly when Ivar flopped back onto his forearms with a bark of a growl.

"Fuck! Forget it! I just wanted to ask you to marry me!" Ivar slung his fist into the leg of the bed, rattling you not just with his force, but with his words. You dropped the edge of the sheets as you fell down to your knees in front of him.

"You... you want to be my husband?" You say. You inch closer with a gleaming grin.

"No, I just said it to hear myself talk." Ivar bit back, pouting now.

Lurching over, you smacked the back of his head. "Be serious." You reprimand, moving to set a hand on his lap. "Say it again."

Ivar's eyes glare off to the side. "Will you... I want you to marry me." He grumbles, arms folding one over another as he slumps back against the foot of the bed. You move your other hand over his lap on all fours, almost giggly at his words. Still grouchy. You can't help yourself.

"Say it again." You say, his cheeks warming.

"Fuck woman! Are you going to be my wife or not?!" He snarls out and just as quickly, you throw yourself on top of him, jerking him down onto the ground on top of you with interlocked lips. Your lips slide against his, keeping him hostage against your pillowy lips.

"Of course I'll marry you!" You whisper against his lips, squeezing one of his cheeks affectionately. Ivar dropped his head against yours just as the shuffling of feet and clearing of breath separate your lips completely.

"Welcome home, Daddie."