Vikings Imagines

Ivar Flirting With Another and You Remind Him of Who He Belongs To

Original Request: I do request an imagine for Ivar flirting before the reader reminds him who he belongs to (as she is not just a possession to be easily disregarded).

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 534

Warnings: A little jealousy, maybe.

Upon the victory of another battle that Ivar and his army had won, jovially, everyone had gathered into the Dining Room to celebrate the happy occasion. They had all been spread out through the entire room; many drank their mead while guffawing at silly jokes and stories.

You sat beside Hvitserk as you chatted between yourselves about Ivar's battle schemes and tactics as you, both, were sure that this battle would have been the last you would've fought in. 

As you spoke about your ruthless beloved, your eyes wandered over to the dais; you could not help but glance at him and a certain blonde thrall which sat upon his lap.

Of course, she was pretty and in her gold sarong, she looked even prettier. Her rich, blonde hair had been curled up and a beautiful braid was very much evident, as it was tucked behind her ear. Her skin seemed as pure as the first thick blanket of snow while her emerald eyes gleamed with lust.

You watch the pair of them as Ivar leans over to whisper something in her ear which earns a laughter from the girl, rendering Ivar's features to be graced with a handsome smirk.

"(Y/N)," Hvitserk said, capturing your attention. "You mustn't worry about her. She isn't as important as you are to him."

"That is merely what I'm worried about, Hvitserk." You reply, as your eyes never leave from the pair at the dais. "He needs to be reminded of who he belongs to. I think he needs to be more aware that I am more than a possession to be so easily disregarded in such a manner."

Hvitserk remained silent as he too looked at Ivar and his thrall and sighed. You stood up almost knocking your chair backwards. And as you began to walk over to Ivar's table, he noticed you approaching and he smiled knowingly.

"Ivar," you greeted him, tersely.

"(Y/N)," Ivar spoke as he purposefully tightened his grip around the girl's waist while her cat-like eyes glared at you, perhaps for interrupting the immaculate moment she was having. And her last.

"Have you come to join us in the celebration?" Ivar spoke.

As the blonde girl giggled at Ivar's suggestion, you turn your attention to her. "Leave," You ordered, your voice stern. "I need to have a talk with my husband."

The girl hesitated as she clung onto Ivar's clothing, firmly. You purse your lips and spill the cup of mead in her face. "I said leave."

As she quickly did so, you inch closer to Ivar as he simpered, seemingly pleased with hisself as he noticed your cheeks blazing an angry red.

"Listen well, Ivar." You whispered. "If you do not remember, I shall remind you. You belong to me. You are mine and only mine. I am not to share you with anyone else much like I am not a pawn of your love game."

"I am not to be humiliated and embarrassed in such a manner. So, the next time I have to remind you again of who you belong to, it shall not be here and your crutches won't be useful at all the next day."