#TLK fanfic

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 

“That we are.” 

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[witchthewriter]

𝐒𝐢𝐡𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: some spoilers for the series xx

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Cancer Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The most sweetest, most gentle and most loyal husband you could ever imagine.

・Exactly like the ones in the romance novels - you are his world.

・And he would do ANYTHING for you. Sounds cliche but he would literally climb the tallest mountain, ask Uhtred to help him bring down the moon, Sihtric is crazy in love with you. And it doesn't stop after the honeymoon phase.

・Any part of your body that you dislike, Sihtric is the first one to be like "what? I don't get it. You are ... the most glorious person to ever walk on midguard."

・Has cried while alone when he's away from you.

・Not when he's been asked by Uhtred to spy though - he just thinks about you when it's safe to do so (he takes caring for his friends very seriously. He's big on loyalty.)

・Further with the loyalty comment; it's actually hilarious that it was he and Uhtred who set up that ruse in season 3. Sihtric would rather die than actually be that person

・Buys you any and every kind of jewellery; bracelets, rings, earrings, necklaces. If you follow his religion/way of life, then he buys you your own thor's hammer pendant.

・When he places it around your neck, he tugs you forward and leans his head against your forehead.

・Calls you, "sweetheart," "my love," "beautiful/handsome". But also likes to call you cheeky ones too: "troublemaker," "danger."

・Puppy god eyes, puppy dog eyes, PUPPY DOG EYES. He doesn't even know he's doing it. It was practically beaten out of him when he was younger by his father and half-brother.

・But when he realised he was doing it, Sihtric thought, 'I have never felt safe enough to act like this. With anyone.'

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Calm bf (Sihtric) x Hyper gf/bf/non-binary partner (You)

Gives Jewellery (Sihtric) x Tries To Wear Everything Every Day To Make Them Happy (You)

Black Cat (You) x Black Bat (Sihtric)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies to Lovers

You first saw Sihtric when he was living with his wretched father. You never expected to find him tied up under Uhtred's command.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Lady of the Dawn by Peter Gundry

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point.

・When he first gets back from being away from you, he's hungry - like a dog in heat, he's rough, he needs to feel you, all of you.

・Sihtric's favourite thing to do is go down on you. Your juices, your smells; it drives him mad.

・After he's made you cum thrice, he rubs your cum/juices on his clothes just in case he has to leave again. He wants to be able to smell you.

・It has become a ritual now - if he doesn't then it's bad luck in his mind.

・If Sihtric is home for a while then his fucking turns into love making. Gentle, loving, slow, passionate.

・Long strokes, in and out of you while kissing every part of your face from above, nuzzling his face into your neck.

・Has a massive breeding kink (even if your body does not have the means to create a child); he likes to talk dirty while pumping into you.

"That's it, let me cum inside you my love. I want to put a child in you."

・When you agree with a whimper, it sends him over the edge. Hot ropes of cum shooting inside you.

・Sihtric keeps pumping though. The fantasy of having a large family with you made his cock hard again.

[thenameswinterfics]

HEARTS OF STEEL, LOVE OF SILK

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric x Reader Settings: Season 5, episode 1 Summary: While you and your children enjoy a peaceful, domestic life in Rumcofa, Sihtric comes up with a pleasant surprise for you. Word Count: 3,9 K Warnings: Fluff, domestic fluff, smut, bad smut, very very bad smut, p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, Daddy Sihtric is a warning itself. A/N: This fic was totally unplanned at first. It came out after a month and half of writing's block. I have planned no outline, no general guidelines, so sorry if you see a messy writing and some rushed parts. This is my first time writing smut, so I apologise if you'll find some horrors inside. This is a birthday present for my beloved @foxyanon . Hope you like it. If you're not, as I told you, you're free to cancel me. A special thanks to @zaldritzosrose , @legitalicat and @sylasthegrim for being a continuous inspiration and helping me with the fic, especially for the last part.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Winter came to Rumcofa in the blink of an eye, even faster than you could have imagined, unlike the village you once called home. However, you would be lying if you said that the cold season brought nothing but atmospheric surroundings. The white, soft snow covered part of the village streets all the way to the wooden dock, the frost clinging to the planks like delicate lace. The trees had been stripped of their leaves, but their bare branches were adorned with pure white, along with some water plants sprouting along the sides of the dock. The harsh temperatures didn't stop the merchants from coming and going as they reached the village by boat, some even staying the night and enjoying the evening bustle of the alehouse, warming their bodies with a hot meal and ale.

You didn't mind walking the streets at this time of year, the hustle and bustle of the village warming the air with a pleasant buzz. But there were days like this when you simply basked in the warmth of your home, a modest but cosy hut that provided a safe nest from the biting cold outside.

Signe, your daughter, was content to sit on your lap, her legs swinging happily and her eyelids half closed as you ran the palm of your hand through her silky hair, your bone comb gently untangling a few pesky knots. A soft hum escaped your lips, a soothing melody accompanied by the crackle of the fire, as your eyes wandered to your two youngest twins, Kare and Kore, playing peacefully on the warm fur on the floor, with a few wooden toys scattered about.

A buzz of voices outside caught your attention, a deep male voice followed by two shrill ones. And as the door of your hut swung open, you recognised the voices of your husband, Sihtric, followed by your first and third sons, Hindr and Ivar, the latter hoisted onto his father's broad shoulder. You saw the twins raise their heads, run to their father and cling to his shirt, tugging at it as Sihtric's free hand roamed over their small heads, playfully ruffling their hair with a wide grin on his face.

Years had passed, and Sihtric had become one of Uhtred's most trusted allies and friends, and a formidable warrior, earning him the nickname, along with Finan and Osferth, of "Uhtred's Pretty Boys". Yet despite his newfound confidence, you could see in his gaze the same shy warrior you had met many years ago in Coccham, on one of your usual stops on your lonely journeys. You were a warrior not bound to any lord, and Sihtric had been sworn under Uhtred's protection some years ago.

You could remember all the stolen glances you shared that night in the alehouse, and how he looked away quickly when he met your eyes, the flush in his cheeks visible in the dim light. It took some time for you to get to know him better, and at first you thought the Dane didn't enjoy your company, for he fled at the first opportunity.

But Sihtric loved you, of course he did. A love so fierce and sincere that it would move even the hardest of the gods. And because he loved you so much, he feared to disappoint you: he was born a bastard, with nothing to give you in return but his skill with the sword. It was not until you joined Uhtred's warriors a few months later that you got to know each other well, and the spark of love exploded like a fire in the middle of the forest. After a short courtship, Sihtric asked his lord for permission to marry you, and he eagerly agreed.

The gods blessed your union with the arrival of your first child, a boy you both named Hindr. Three years later, your union was blessed again with the arrival of Signe, who Sihtric affectionately called "my little princess". While you loved your two children dearly, you both agreed that there was room in your love nest for one more, and a few years later Ivar was born. 

Your fourth pregnancy came as a surprise, as neither of you had planned to welcome another child into your family. Sihtric was reluctantly forced to leave his family to follow Uhtred in his attempt to retake Bebbanburg, and while he was busy defending the borders of Mercia, you gave birth alone, bringing two healthy twins into the world. You were reunited after the Siege of Winchester, and after shedding tears of joy for his children, he vowed to be a more present father and husband and make up for lost time.

"Let me come with you, Papa!" was the whining voice of Hindr, tugging at his father's sleeve to get his attention. The Dane lowered Ivar to the ground, and after he both kissed his sons' foreheads, he bent over his firstborn.

"It's still too dangerous for you, Hindr," Sihtric chided in a calm but firm tone, his calloused fingers stroking the child's cheek and chuckling at his son's little pout. "One day you will join me. I promise you." He finished, kissing the top of his head.

Then he rose and approached you and Signe by the fire. As soon as he was in your presence, he bent over you, holding two small flowers in one of his hands.

"One for my little princess," the Dane said softly, placing one of the flowers in his daughter's hand and gently pressing his lips to her forehead, to which Signe responded with a shy, silent nod. "And one for my queen," he added, leaning his face over yours and sealing your lips with a tender and lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, savouring the moment as a pleasant and familiar warmth spread through your chest. It had been a long time since you and Sihtric had shared an act of intimacy, and caring for five children took time away from even a brief kiss.

But the time was up, and soon you were forced to break the kiss and watch as Sihtric hurriedly took his sword. "Are you leaving already?" you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. Sihtric looked over at you as he took one of the twins in his arms.

"The Blood Month, my love," the Dane said, content to be surrounded by his wife and children, "Our boy Aethelstan is ready for his first hunt and we will join him.”

You hummed in understanding, your body mechanically combing Signe's hair while your mind was elsewhere. You loved your children, they all had your blood and Sihtric's running through their veins. But you were a warrior before you were a mother, and the time you spent on the battlefield with your husband was a distant memory. But Sihtric seemed to sense your discomfort, and he approached you once more before putting Kore down. 

"I swear we will celebrate the next Blood Month together, my love," the Dane reassured you in a soothing voice and gave you a final kiss before saying goodbye to his children one by one. Before leaving the hut, he stroked Hindr's hair once more. "Protect your Mama and siblings while I'm gone, little warrior."

"As if his mother could not protect herself," you scolded playfully, rolling your eyes dramatically. Sihtric replied with a loud chuckle, his eyes sparkling with affection as he crossed the threshold of the door.

"I know you can, my fierce shield maiden," he replied with a grin, closing the door behind him.

You quickened your pace as you reached the alehouse, holding the twin's small hands in yours. Sihtric followed ahead of you, a small axe taken from Hindr sheathed in his leather belt, as he watched his three eldest children run through the building. 

The hunt had gone well, except for one unforeseen event that no one had anticipated. Sihtric told you how Aethelstan had been attacked by three men, but had somehow managed to kill one and survive almost unharmed. It was not a boar they had sacrificed, but at least the Blood Month tradition was somehow expected. But it was the unexpected arrival of Eadith that took everyone by surprise: Uhtred and his men knew she had left after the events in Mercia and Winchester, but no one expected her to pay a sudden visit to Rumcofa.

The alehouse was warm, the flickering fire of candles dancing through the tables and casting a cosy glow on the wooden walls. The aroma of ale filled the air, the clatter of mugs and the cheerful chatter and laughter of the men adding to the convivial atmosphere. 

With each mug of ale in hand, the whole group stood still and circled around Eadith as she told them the stories of how she had come to Frankia and how she had learned and honed her skills as a healer. As the conversation continued, you could see the surprise in the redhead's eyes when she recognised Aethelstan among the men, and you couldn't blame her. 

You remember how King Edward's bastard son was taken under Uhtred's protection and raised among you: the child knew nothing of the dangers of the world, spending his early years in a monastery, his cocoon shielded from the outside world. Most of the time he ended up in your and Sihtric's care, and together with Cynlaef you raised them as your sons, the boys calling your own their little siblings. But now they were grown men, and you looked at them with pride and emotion: you and Sihtric still had your own children to love and cherish, but you would be lying if you said you missed those moments.

"This is Sihtric's wife," Uhtred said to Eadith, pointing to you with the mug in his hands, "and all of her and Sihtric's little pack that populate this town."

"Five children can hardly populate Rumcofa, Uhtred," you replied with a smile, your fingers gently stroking Signe's hair.

"Perhaps the gods will be on our side and bless our union again," Sihtric added, his hand slipping from your shoulder to your flat stomach. It was no secret that you both longed for another child, but you both knew that you were not the young and fresh couple you once were, and your ageing bodies made that dream distant and uncertain. 

"Perhaps you should ask your gods for a little nudge," Finan snorted lightly, holding Ingrith by the waist and your son Kare in his arms. In the midst of the laughter, you could see Finan and Sihtric exchanging a knowing look that surprised you, but did not carry much weight.

The conversation continued until sundown, when the sun set, giving way to the moon, and the orange of the sky was replaced by a deep blue dotted with stars.

As you entered your hut, you threw your cloak and boots onto the nearest chair, tossed your hair aside and tried to undo the laces of your dress. Sihtric was the last to enter, closing the door behind him, unbuckling his belt and placing his weapons against the nearest wall. 

When you turned to look at him, you noticed that something was wrong: everything was quiet, too quiet for a family with five children. You would expect chaos after a day at the alehouse, your husband running over his children in a playful catch, or just you and Sihtric sitting by the fire playing with them before tucking them into bed. But they were nowhere to be seen.

“Where is our little pack?” you asked with a hint of worry in your voice, frustration rising as you struggled to untie your laces.

"With Finan and Ingrith," Sihtric replied casually, his voice dropping as he approached from behind. Had you listened more closely, you would have heard a bit of hoarseness in his voice. "I asked them to look after our children for the night." 

The Dane put his hands on your waist and pulled you gently from behind, pressing your back against his chest. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, his facial hair tingling your skin as he planted soft kisses on the side of your neck. 

"I would have preferred to be informed of this idea of yours, Sihtric," you sighed, lifting your head to give him better access to your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine, a strange but familiar warmth blooming in your lower abdomen: you could not remember the last time Sihtric had made your head spin and your body tremble with pleasure, the sounds of your moans echoing in your head.

“Is it so wrong to surprise you, little wife?” he whispered in your ear. 

His teeth slowly grazed the skin of your neck. It was only meant as a tease, a way to have you fully entranced by him. Your words began to come out in broken, stuttered responses as you tried to think of anything coherent. 

"Help me undo these laces and you will see how wrong you are," you replied courtly and sharply breathed, feigning offence in that remaining moment of lucidity. But your veil of resoluteness soon fell as you felt his rough hands cross your back, one of his tattooed fingers tracing your spine in a fluid motion. And as you sighed at the sensation of him touching the laces of your dress, a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you heard the muffled sound of a tear, the movement so unexpected that you lost your balance and were forced to place your hands on the table.

"Ah, m-my dress!" you hissed, your eyelids half open at the feel of his mouth kissing and nibbling your exposed skin, from the nape of your neck to your shoulders. "You tore one of your gifts-"

"I will buy you another one," Sihtric cut you off with a low murmur, savouring every inch of you with his mouth, "I will buy you the finest gown in all of Northumbria, if you allow me," the Dane continued, working his way up from your shoulder to your earlobe, nibbling gently, "but you know I will always prefer you without your clothes on."

All hope of maintaining self-control was lost when his hands began to squeeze your breasts as he sank his teeth into your tender flesh. You moaned loudly, your mind clouded with too much pleasure as you pressed against his body: Sihtric let out a low, guttural moan as he felt his throbbing cock pressed against your arse, sinking his teeth deeper into your shoulders. 

He had waited too long for this moment, and had he had the chance, he would have stripped you naked and humped you on the kitchen table. But in his eyes you were his queen and goddess, ready to throw away his pleasure to satisfy yours first.

Instead, Sihtric spun you around and sat you on the table while he quickly revealed your breasts, slightly swollen from all the time you had spent carrying and feeding your children. His lips trailed down your throat, his tongue tasting the saltiness of your skin as he finally reached for your breast, his mouth enveloping and sucking gently as he cupped the other one in his hand, teasing your hardening nipple with his fingers. Shrieks and whimpers were your only sounds, accompanied by your soft moans as you rolled your eyes back, your back arching as you surrendered to the pleasure of the moment, the warmth in your abdomen spreading uncontrollably. 

You could feel your core pulsing with excitement, a burning sensation that felt like sweet torture to you, loud sighs mixed with your screams as you desperately searched for something to relieve you. The wetness between your legs only increased as you felt one of Sihtric's hands push up your skirt, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh as they reached your warm cunt. 

"Already so wet for me, my love?" the Dane asked in a hoarse voice, teasing your core with a few strokes before pushing a finger inside you, the intrusion unexpected but pleasurable at the same time. You almost forgot how thick his fingers were as he stroked inside you, how often he let your body float and how much your legs trembled at his touch. 

Babbling and rambling words were the only thing you could say, your rational self temporarily gone. His name, called out like a ritual chant in a breathless voice, was the only word you could manage, your low throaty voice reaching his ears like a distant melody, frustrating him as his cock grew impatient in his breeches. But he knew he would postpone his pleasure for much longer, not before he made you squirm and scream his name loudly until your lungs were empty of air.

"How much I missed this," Sihtric whispered, leaning his head towards you, "how much I missed us." 

"Sihtric," you sighed as his lips met yours, the kiss far from the gentle one you had shared in the morning. It was a needy, bruising kiss that told a story of longing touch and pent-up passion, of two souls locking their primary desires for the sake of their family. 

Sihtric's tongue parted, the tip finding an entrance into your parted lips. You allowed him to enter your mouth, your tongues meeting in a frenzied dance as you swallowed another loud moan and felt another finger penetrate you. You inadvertently moved your hips towards him, moaning at how perfectly his thick fingers stretched inside you, his wriggles teasing and rubbing your tight walls. 

Your husband could feel your hips moving frantically against his hand, your arse slapping against his open palm and your walls tightening against his fingers, a signal that your climax was reaching its breaking point. But he had no intention of letting you finish like that: he needed to remember how you tasted, to savour you and drink you all up. 

He gently pushed you back, wanting to lay you down and bury his head in your thighs. But you quickly grabbed his wrist and stopped him, a frustrated moan escaping his lips.

"Not here," you murmured breathlessly, your body still trembling from the pleasure you had just received. For as much as you could not wait to release your own excitement, you would never let him take you on the table. 

Sihtric's impatience grew as he scooped you up in his arms, carried you in front of the fire and laid you on the warm furs. Your lips entwined again in hungry and lustful kisses as you both undressed, Sihtric tearing your dress to shreds while you removed his with gentle movements, letting them fall with a soft thud. 

You both stood naked by the fire, his lips moving quickly down, tasting and biting your skin from throat to belly, until he spread your legs in desperation, his head trapped between your thighs. His breath was hot against your folds, the heat from his mouth so pleasant and arousing that you would have closed your legs and found some friction had Sihtric not spread them with his hands. He teased your wet core with the tip of his tongue, but the taste of you was so intoxicating that all restraint was lost. First a lick, then his tongue penetrated your folds, devouring you like prey after a day's hunting. Your head began to spin, moans and whimpers escaping your lips as your fingers trailed over his curls, tugging wildly at them, causing the Dane to grunt and moan in return. 

You reached your peak quickly, coming on his tongue as he eagerly lapped up your release. Your thighs trembled under his grip, which caused Sihtric to chuckle next to your folds. 

“Good girl, such a pretty wife I have,” he said quietly with a kiss to each thigh. “Are you willing to give me one more?” 

Before you could even answer, he allowed you to taste yourself on his lips as he positioned himself between your legs, his cock twitching painfully as his own arousal desperately needed to be released. Keeping your legs spread, he spat on his tip and after a few strokes, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust into you in one swift motion. It took all his willpower not to fuck you at speed: instead he chose a slow approach, his length stretching inside you like a sweet torture. He was slow at first, creating a careful rhythm, knowing how sensitive you were.

“Do not be so gentle now, husband,” you said softly as you leaned up. Your lips ghosted across his chest, then his collarbone, creating a trail of chills as you went. His thrusts faltered a bit as he shuddered with each kiss. “I am not some fragile flower, I can take it.”

Your leg wrapped around his hips, allowing him deeper inside you as you angled your hips up. One hand gripped your thigh, holding your leg tightly around him, while the other braced itself on the furs, holding his weight. A string of curse came out with every thrust, now deeper and harder. 

The crackling of the fire could not hide the vocal chaos you two were making, the room filled with your whimpers and moans, Sihtric panting and grunting as he fucked you deep and hard, hissing under his teeth every time you tugged at his curls wildly. One of his hands moved from your hips to your flat stomach, the circling movements gentle in contrast to his rough movements.

“How good would it be to see you round with my pup again,” he whispered with an animalistic growl, never faltering his pace as you both rocked against each other’s hips.

“I would like to, husband” you whined, arching your back and head as he hit a sensitive spot. “But I am afraid my body could not bear another pup inside me,” 

Upon hearing your words, Sihtric lowered over you, kissing the contour of your jaw gently, “Never underestimate the workings of the gods, my love,” he whispered with a hoarse voice, “We do not know what-”

A choked moan escaped his throat, grunting against your neck as he quickened the pace once more, his own climax on the verge of the release. The grip on your hips tightened into a bruised vice, your walls clenching around him, eagerly awaiting his release.

"Fuck, please," you let out a sharp breath as you clung to him, your nails digging into his back until they left scratches. Your senses were sharpened by the growing wave of pleasure, leaving you temporarily stunned as you felt your own release coming. 

"Come to me, my queen," was the gruff voice of Sihtric you heard, praising you and whispering honeyed words before you both came simultaneously, wetting his cock with your fluids as your walls milked him of all his seed. When he pulled himself out, you both collapsed on the furs, both a terrible mess, but neither of you wanted to leave each other's embrace. You remained entwined for minutes that seemed an eternity, your fingers intertwined as you opened your eyes.

"Sihtric," you called out breathlessly, feeling the Dane's head rise against your neck, "What if the gods do not bless us with another pup?" 

Your question made Sihtric smile fondly, his rough hand resting on your cheeks as your lips met in a tender kiss.

"Then I will thank them for giving me a beautiful wife and five loving children to love and cherish with my whole heart."

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @sihtricsafin @arcielee

[queers-gambit]

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

[kingdom-of-sins]

Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader

Sihtric and Uhtred's sister wants to get married but for that to happen they need Uhtred's blessing...which may not be so easy to get

The night air in Coccham is cool and filled with the chirping of crickets as you slip out of your quarters, your heart racing with anticipation. You’ve become adept at sneaking out to meet Sihtric, your secret love, in the secluded grove just beyond the village. As you approach, you see him waiting for you, a smile lighting up his face when he catches sight of you.

"There you are," he says softly, pulling you into his arms. "I was starting to worry."

"Sorry," you whisper, nuzzling into his chest. "Uhtred kept me longer than usual."

He chuckles, brushing a kiss against your forehead. "I have something for you." From behind his back, he produces a small bouquet of wildflowers, their petals vibrant even in the dim light.

You smile, touched by his gesture. "You always bring me the loveliest flowers."

"And you'll always wear them beautifully," he replies, tucking one into your long black hair. "They remind me of you."

You kiss him then, a soft brush of your lips that quickly deepens. His hands cradle your face, and you lose yourself in the warmth and passion of his embrace. Each stolen moment with Sihtric feels like a precious gift, every kiss a promise of your love.

Time seems to stand still as you hold each other, but all too soon, reality intrudes. "We can't stay long," Sihtric murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. "Uhtred will notice if we're both gone for too long."

You sigh, wishing you could stay wrapped in his arms forever. "I hate sneaking around like this. I wish we could be together openly."

"Me too," Sihtric says, determination in his voice. "And we will be. I'm going to talk to Uhtred. I'm going to ask for his blessing."

Your eyes widen in surprise and worry. "Are you sure? You know how protective he is."

"I know," he replies, his gaze steady. "But I love you. I want to be with you, openly and proudly."

The next morning, you watch nervously from a distance as Sihtric approaches Uhtred. Your brother's expression shifts from curiosity to shock as Sihtric speaks. You can't hear their conversation, but Uhtred's widening eyes and dropped jaw are enough to tell you it's not going entirely smoothly.

Later, Sihtric finds you, his expression a mix of hope and resignation. "He was… surprised," he says, trying to sound optimistic. "He asked for time to think about it."

"That's something, at least," you reply, squeezing his hand. "What else did he say?"

Sihtric hesitates. "He, uh, kind of told me to stay away from you for now."

Your heart sinks, but you refuse to give up. "I'm going to talk to him," you declare. "He needs to understand how much we love each other."

That evening, you corner Uhtred in his quarters. "Brother, we need to talk."

He looks up from his maps, raising an eyebrow. "About Sihtric, I presume?"

"Yes," you say, taking a deep breath. "I love him, Uhtred. He loves me. We want to be together, to get married. Please, give us your blessing."

Uhtred sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize… You've kept this well hidden."

"We had to," you reply softly. "But I don't want to hide anymore. Please, Uhtred."

After a long pause, Uhtred nods slowly. "I'll speak to Sihtric."

Later that night, Uhtred calls Sihtric into his quarters. "You know I'll kill you if you hurt her," he says gruffly, eyes hard.

"I know," Sihtric replies earnestly. "I'd never hurt her. I love her."

"Then you have my blessing," Uhtred says, his voice softening. "But remember, I'm always watching."

Sihtric can hardly contain his excitement as he rushes to find you. He sneaks into your quarters, grinning like a boy. "Uhtred gave his blessing," he whispers, pulling you into his arms.

Tears of joy fill your eyes as you kiss him, your heart bursting with happiness. "We can finally be together," you say, your voice trembling with emotion.

He kisses you again, deeply and passionately, his hands tangling in your long black hair. "I can't wait to marry you," he murmurs against your lips. "And I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."

With Uhtred's blessing, you and Sihtric no longer have to hide your love. You walk hand in hand through Coccham, drawing smiles and curious looks from the people around. Sihtric brings you flowers every chance he gets, and you wear them proudly in your hair.

Your love is no longer a secret, and every day is filled with moments of joy and passion. You steal kisses in quiet corners, share whispered conversations late into the night, and dream of the life you'll build together.

Days pass, and the new dynamic becomes a part of everyday life. Yet, some things remain the same.

One afternoon, as you and Sihtric share a private moment in the kitchen, he gently tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. His gaze is soft, filled with love.

Uhtred walks in at that exact moment, catching sight of the tender exchange. He groans loudly, making a face. "Do you two ever stop?" he asks, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

You laugh, leaning into Sihtric. "Not if we can help it."

Uhtred shakes his head, muttering to himself as he leaves the room. "Just remember, Sihtric, I'm always watching!"

Sihtric chuckles, pulling you close. "I don't think he'll ever get used to it."

"Good," you reply with a mischievous grin.

And with that, you pull Sihtric into another kiss, knowing that no matter how many times Uhtred catches you, nothing can dim the happiness you feel in each other’s arms.

[loveslibrarywp]

Worship and desire

Osferth x Fem!reader

Summary: You and Osferth have been in a secret relationship for some time. After a long day of traveling, Uhtred’s crew settle down in a secluded forest for the night. When the men fall asleep, you pull your lover away for some…quality time.

Warnings: NSFW. Cock worship. P in V sex. Outdoor sex. Praise kink. Blowjob. Mentions of religion. Lowkey subspace.

Authors note: Just a silly little thought that’s been on my mind. Enjoy ❤️

“Where are we going, my love?” Osferth whispered as you drug him deeper into the forest. You didn’t answer and continued to guided him through the trees until you were far enough away from the sleeping men.

You softly pushed him against a nearby tree, pressing yourself against him. Your gaze was full of lust and desire. You wanted him. You smiled up at the man, finally getting a moment of alone time with him after so long.

“Hi.” You said, your breath fanning onto his lips because you were so close to him. He laughed, “Hi.” He replied as he pulled you closer by your waist. Your arms slung around his neck and you pulled him into a fierce kiss.

Your lips moved together. All of your emotions pouring out into it, your bodies connecting as one. The kiss was hot and wet and messy, just how you liked it. “I’ve missed you..” you mumbled against his lips, which made him smirk against yours.

“I missed you too, my sweet lady.” He said into the kiss. Your hands were all over him, as were his. You both had gone so long without touching each other, you were burning in desire. “Osferth..” you whined as you pulled away from him and stared up at him with lusty eyes.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, your hands held his face and caressed his cheeks. “I need you..” you said as your hands trailed down his chest and your head dipped into his neck, nipping at his soft skin. His breath shuttered at your words, making you let out a little giggle at his nervousness.

No matter how many times he had laid with you, he was still so shy. Your sweet little monk.

You felt his cock harden in his trousers. You knelt down on your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. Your actions made his own eyes go wide because he knew exactly what was about to happen.

You yanked down his trousers to pull out his semi-hard cock. “We’re doing this here? Right now?” He asked with a ‘are you crazy?’ Look on his adorable face. You only nodded your head with that crazed look in your eye.

You pumped his cock in your warm hand, making him throw his head back in pleasure. “Look at me, sweet boy.” You demanded with a soft voice. His gaze fixed back onto you. As you stared into his eyes, you licked the tip of his cock. The salty taste of his pre-cum made you close your eyes and groan, as did he at the feeling.

You began to kiss along his length, savoring the feeling of it against your soft lips. “Such a pretty cock, baby..” you mumbled, licking up his cock and kissing the tip. He gaped at you with a look as if he were in love with you. He was in love with you.

“I love it so much..” you sucked on the tip, licking up all the pre-cum that leaked from it. You moaned and whined as you sucked his cock, the feeling of it in your mouth made you all needy and whiny. Your undergarments were practically soaked in your own arousal. “I love you so much..” you said as you ran a finger down a vein.

“I love you too!” He breathed out. He was whimpering and groaning as you bobbed your head on his cock, stumbling on his words as he spoke, “just…just l-like that.”

You took your mouth off him and began stroking him again, your eyes were pleasing with him, a pout plastered on your messy and wet lips. You looked angelic, like the most perfect being that ever walked this earth. He thought he had died and gone to the heavens when he was blessed with your presence. You were truly a gift from God.

“It’s so perfect..” you said as you gazed at the tip of his cock, watching a bead of cum drip down the side of his cock, which you quickly licked up. “You’re so perfect, Osferth.” You gleamed as your eyes fixed onto him, looking fucked out as can be.

“N-No, my love. That’s you..” he stuttered. A soft smile came from his panting lips. You giggled as you shook your head, disagreeing with him.

“Please, I need your cunt..” he begged for you. His begging ignited something inside you. You quickly nodded at his pleads, giving his cock one more kiss before standing up.

He pressed you against the tree and bent you over. Osferth hiked up your dress and stopped at the sight of the growing wet spot on your cotton panties. His fingers reached for the spot, the tips of them rubbing against the cotton, making you moan out.

“Please, Osferth..” now you were the one begging. His hand yanked your panties to the side and grabbed his cock, running the tip over your dripping slit. He pressed himself into you, the first thrust making you both moan in pleasure.

He started at a slow pace, like he was making love to you. You often adored when he treated you with such kindness and devotion but you wanted to be fuck tonight.

“Os, baby? I need you to fuck me. Hard.” You said with an urgent tone. He nodded his head, fulfilling your need as swiftly as he could. His once soft thrusts turned into hard and deep ones.

He continuously hit that one spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars. Your moans grew louder and echoed into the darkness of the night. “Fuck! Right there, sweet boy. Keep fucking me like that!”

He fed on your praises and savored the feeling of your wet and warm cunt as he fucked it as if we’re a toy. “Lord-“ he groaned out, his cock throbbing inside of you as you clenched down onto him.

A smile was painting on your fucked out face as he slammed his hips onto yours, your ass jiggling at the motion. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he gave you a particularly hard thrust, almost hitting your cervix.

“Your cock is so good, Osferth! You fuck me so well!” You moaned as you gripped onto the tree in front of you. You felt your arousal drip down your thighs and the wet sounds of your cunt mixed with his groans only added to the pleasure you were feeling.

“Holy-, don’t talk like that, my love. I’ll finished too quick.” He breathed out as he held your hips hard, he was definitely going to leave bruises with his death grip on them.

“I’m so close! I want you to finish with me..” you gasped. The two of you were so near the edge of your peaks, so close to finishing together. His cock was throbbing inside of you and you were clenching onto him like you life depended on it.

“-‘m cumming!” You barely managed to shout out, your cunt spasmed onto him and your legs began to shake. Osferth fucked you through your orgasam as he chased his own, groaning at the feeling of your mixed arousal dripping down his balls.

“Fuck!” He quickly slipped out of you, jerking himself off onto your back, His spend shooting out onto your ass and back.

You both panted as you caught your breaths from the intense sensations. You shook as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned you both up. He leaned you up to press a delicate kiss on your cheek and held you close to him by the waist. He moved your cotton panties back in place and fixed your dress.

“I love you, my beautiful lady.” He whispered into your eyes, pressing his lips anywhere he could reach. “I love you too, sweet boy.” You said as you leaned your head back and rested against his shoulder, savoring the moment together.

• • •

You had finally woken up and walked out of your shared tent to see the men huddled around the fire and eating some breakfast.

“Oh! Look who finally decided to wake up!” Uhtred laughed, which made you roll your eyes and sitting down next to him as you hit him in the arm. “She needed her beauty sleep after the…rough night she had last night. Baby monk here really did a number on her if you didn’t hear it last night!” Finan laughed as he shook Osferth who was beside him.

Your eyes went wide and Osferth went red. They had heard you. You were sure you went far enough so they didn’t.

“I think we all heard it..” Sihtric sighed.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Masterlist

The Last Kingdom - Sihtric

Top 5 most read:

Indelicate proposal - SMUT 18+ an unexpected proposal leads to more unexpected actions as you discover the surprisingly soft core of the young warrior seeking your attention

Little Seer SMUT 18+ (Sihtric x reader x Finan) – as if being Skade's sister wasn't challenge enough, reader is faced with an impossible choice between two warriors, competing over her heart

Saved Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 SMUT 18+ – Reader is Uhtred’s sister and a skilled healer. She travels with her brother’s men and after the unsuccessful attempt on Uhtred’s life gets curious about the young prisoner, the sole Dane from the group of assailants that is left alive

Feeling you Part 1 SMUT, 18+, Part 2, Part 3 SMUT, 18+ – You thought you had left your days as an alehouse whore behind you until a handsome, young Dane crossed your path.

Traitor SMUT 18+ – you thought you had been prepared for everything as you were sent to spy on Uhtred, until the moment you met a certain Danish warrior

Sihtric x female!reader (canon)

Lost – Fic request: After Rumcowa is attacked Sihtric searches for his family not knowing what has happened to them.

Prisoner Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 SMUT 18+ – Sihtric and Finan are sent to spy on Bebbanburg, but Sihtric gets distracted by an attractive widow and lands up caught and secured by the guards with no chances of escape.

Kidnapped Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 – Fic request: Sihtric's wife is being taken by Hestan and she gives birth to twins while she is with them. Then Hestan sees Uthred and threatens that he has Sihtrics family, but of course, Sihtric gets his family back.

Princess Part 1 SMUT 18+ – Fic request: could you write something about Sihtric rescuing a princess (Alfred's daughter) and they both falling in love for each other despite the princess is about to marry somebody else.

Good wife Part 2 SMUT 18+ – Five years later Princess returns to Winchester just to discover Sihtric hasn't kept his promise.

Freedom SMUT 18+ – Reader is a childhood friend of Sihtric, whom he liberates from the slavery after the fall of Dunholm. The life has not been easy on her since Sihtric left. It's a heavy and dark fic, mentioning mental illness, violence and attempted suicide.

Braiding hair – Fic request: Can I request a sihtric x reader fic where she doesn’t know how to braid, so sihtric teaches her. and when she’s good enough he lets her braid his hair for battle saying it would bring him luck

Grief – Fic request: can i ask for husband! Sihtric comforting his wife!reader after losing her best friend. and she obviously suffers from grief. she just wants to be held and told it’s okay to grieve and there’s no shame in hiding it

Sickness Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 – Fic request: Season four Sihtric, when the group are passing through the fields during that plague and the river. Reader is the lover of Sihtric and is sick. (..) The reader and Sihtric have what they think are their last moments before she is kidnapped along with Stiorra, Aelswith and Aethelstan...

The Witch Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 – Fic request: I was hoping you could write a one shot of Sihtric x Fem reader. Where the fem is like a healer very similar to Iseult in season 1. But this time reader is patching up our boy Sihtric. The reader is extremally worried for Sihtric.

Bebbanburg – Fic request: (..) Sihtric ffc that takes place when they are trying to get Bebbanburg back and they take him and Finan and chain them. While they are chained, Sihtric notices a girl also being chained in a corner and after the battle he rescues her

You are good SMUT, 18+ – You don't trust Sihtric, but when you start seeing him the way he really is, you just want to be a part of his world

The promise – for his own good you wrung a promise from Sihtric that left your both hearts bleeding - lot of angst and very little comfort

Caged bird SMUT 18+ – It had been only a week since the handsome Dane, strength and danger emanating from his every pore, had evaded your secluded life, turning it upside down in the blink of an eye. 

Yield to me SMUT 18+ – Fic request: you and Sihtric are sent to Bloodhair's camp to spy, and apparently there is more to discover than the secret plans of the Danes

Dream - Fic request inspired by the The Apparition by Sleep Token – Sihtric plagued by dreams of a woman from his past - angst, longing, some lowkey SMUT 18+ nothing explicit, use of she/her pronouns, happy ending 😉

Destiny is all - SMUT 18+ reading a book turns into a breathtaking adventure

Forever mine - SMUT 18+ A young Dane awakens something long buried in you, but the truth threatens to shatter your stolen moments. Can love survive built on lies?

Sihtric x female!reader (modern)

Reunited Part 1, Part 2 (ongoing) – Fic request: I'd like to request a modern!Sihtric x reader where they are reunited after a long time apart. // It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut.

Strangers on the train SMUT 18+ – Fic request: I can imagine Sihtric and reader meeting by chance on a train. It could get fluffy and even hot and smutty.

Library romance – Fic request: May I request a modern Sihtric fic (nothing serious just some fluff) where Sihtric and reader are best friends and madly in love with each other, but afraid of confessing their feelings.

Date Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 – Fic request: I would like to request a full on fluffy modern!Sihtric fic, where he's desperately in love with reader and he takes her on their first date, and does everything he can to impress her

Until the death us parts (Assassin!Sihtric x Templar!reader) SMUT 18+ – Spying on Sihtric is one thing, but when the reader receives the order to eliminate the target, things get complicated.

Two broken pieces (sub!Sihtric x dom!reader) SMUT 18+ – plot? never heard of it, pure smut with some minor good old pole-dancer/whore meeting a successful businessman background story

Sihtric x OC

Captive (Sihtric x OC) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 – Sihtric is sent to Heasten’s camp to spy and discovers the Danes have a captive – young Saxon girl he just can’t leave to her fate. My very first fan fic, please bear with me 😅

The Curse (Sihtric x Skade) SMUT 18+, angst – as Uhtred's path crosses with the mighty seer Skade, there is only one way to break the pattern of violence and only one man capable of doing it as the power of love appears stronger than the power of hate

The Wheel of Time - Masema

Masema x female!reader

Supper SMUT 18+ – Serving supper to a prophet. There is no plot, just pure SMUT 18+

Power SMUT 18+ – all your life you've been on the run, hiding the power within you, until you meet a warrior brave enough to claim you despite the trouble you are bringing

[undertheorangetree]

To Be Alone With You

Summary- Osferth becomes infatuated with a healer from the continent.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Osferth's got a big old crush. Like he’s down bad. Blood. Minor injuries. Shoddy knowledge of 10th century healing. Blasphemy. Admittedly more plot than porn. Cunnilingus. Masturbation. P in V sex. Against a wall in a church no less.

Author's Note- The fact that Osferth canonically fucks and is good at it to the point where women fight over him lives in my mind rent free. Anyway read the rest on ao3 link is belowww

dividers by me lmao

Osferth likes to think that he's different now. Or at least, that he has changed since first joining Uhtred. He's grown further into himself- his confidence, his ability to be a warrior, that he himself has changed as a whole. He's stronger now and though he still values his faith, it does not feel so all consuming, an anchor around his throat forever reminding him of his bastardry. He is proud of the man he has become, of the one that he continues to grow into, and it feels right that, over time, he has changed for the better.

But he seems to forget all that the moment he lays eyes on her.

She had arrived with a traveling priest from the continent, one who had come with the intention of spreading the word of God to the infamously heretical ealdorman. And though she traveled with a priest and his retinue, she wore no habit. Her hair was loose, catching the waning rays of the sun and he felt his heart stutter in his chest when he caught the colour of it shining in the light. She had caught his eye then, as their little ship docked, and smiled at him so brightly he felt himself fall back into the boy he once was, the cursed baby monk.

Though Uhtred had wanted to throw the whole group out at the first sign of a sermon, he agreed to give them a night in the inn out of respect for how long they had been traveling- after they had paid a small fee, of course- and Osferth had managed to catch her in the tavern later that night.

The words had caught in his throat the moment he tried to speak, but Finan had been with him and it had been easy for him to ask if they could join her and begin a conversation. He had nursed his mug of ale while they spoke, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of her further, and joined Finan in highlighting all that Coccham had to offer. Finan had quickly become drunk, but they had found a joint amusement in that and he had revelled in every smile she cast his way. They learned that she was the priest's healer, having studied in Frankia before deciding to join the priest in order to see what the world had to offer. She told them of her travels to Burgundy, Provence, and the Northern Byzantine Empire, regailing them with stories Osferth could only dream about. Uhtred had joined them midway through the conversation, allowing Osferth the opportunity to join her on her bench, their arms brushing against each other.

By the time morning came, the priest had gone and she had stayed on as their healer. Uhtred offered her a cottage and the promise to retrieve everything she could possibly need. He had grinned at Osferth the moment she turned her back on them, raising his eyebrows playfully, and he had felt his face begin to burn from how obvious his immediate infatuation must have been.

At first, he simply admired her from afar. Though he is proud of all the progress he has made to become the man he is now, that all seems to melt away when he is around her. More often than not, he stumbles over his words when he tries to speak to her, face burning scarlet and heart beating faster in his chest. It is clear that the others know of his infatuation, as they do everything in their power to facilitate some kind of interaction between them. Inviting him over when they are speaking to her, offering her his assistance whenever she needs it. Finan had gone so far as to shove him in her direction whenever he felt like causing trouble, though thank God he had only stumbled into her once. She had done little more than laugh then but he had avoided her for two days out of sheer humiliation.

It is safer to simply keep his distance. Though he enjoys talking to her- more than enjoys it, if he is honest with himself- he does little more than embarrass himself when he tries. He wants more, he wants everything, but for now he will settle for admiration. Distance.

It seems kinder. To both himself and her.

He can see her now, walking back to her cottage with a basket full of herbs and flowers she must have picked nearby the river. There is a woman walking with her, one he doesn't know well enough to know her name, but they are laughing as if they are close friends. The other woman reaches out to rest a hand on her arm and he watches longingly as she raises her own to clutch at the other woman's fingers. He cannot hear what they're saying over the echoing clack of the wooden swords the boys are using to practice- a sparring match he is admittedly supposed to be monitoring- but she has a pull on him he can't quite explain and he can’t bring himself to look away.

It comes with consequences.

Read the rest here

[helaelaemond]

Hi there! What do you think of writing something of Reader overstimulating virgin Osferth? Could be short

Pairing: Osferth x reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: pure smut. Hand job (reader giving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Rating: E

Notes: thank you so much! This was the exact prompt I needed to get the writing out of my system!

"Does that feel good?"

Osferth whimpers and tries to get away from you, but you press a hand to his chest to keep him lying there. He shakes as he comes, seed spurting from his hard cock, and tears leak from his eyes.

"Does that feel good?" you repeat.

He shakes his head. "Please. Please, enough." His words are little more than hard breaths, his chest heaving with the effort.

The seed makes your hand slick. With smooth strokes, you keep your hand against him and cover his length again and again, dragging his orgasm out. When you dig your nail into his little slit, he whimpers again.

"Please, stop!"

But when you lean down to kiss him, he surges up to meet you. In a heartbeat, he parts his lips and sinks his tongue into your mouth, claiming you, begging you. Between you, his hand goes to your wrist, but he doesn't yank it away.

"You want to come again?" you ask quietly. He sucks your lower lip between his own before biting, nodding.

"Please."

Sweet Osferth doesn't even know what he's begging for anymore. After a moment, the strength goes from him and he whines softly, falling back onto the bed. He looks up at you with such pretty eyes, so wide and confused and adoring.

"Does it hurt?" you ask. His cock is red and swollen, his balls tense, and his entire groin is slick from release after release.

He nods, eyes red.

You kiss his forehead. "I think you can come again for me, can't you?"

Another whimper escapes him. He's got that glazed look on his face that tells you he's close to his limit. Close. Not there entirely. "Y... yes."

It makes you shiver. "Osferth..."

The way his eyes light up when you murmur his name is endearing, to say the least. You massage his balls, and he whines softly. His feet kick against the bed and suddenly his hips lift off it in a desperate attempt to get away. Again, you press him back down.

"Be good, sweet Osferth," you tell him.

The call of his name again draws him back. Wide-eyed and dazed, he looks at you. Quietly, he moans your name. You reward him with a gentler touch between his legs; the soft skin of his balls is warm and thin and sticky with sweat and come. With your other hand, you stroke up and down his stomach soothingly. There isn't a chance for his cock to get soft again by the time your firm grasp returns.

"You can do this for me, can't you?"

Again, Osferth moans your name. "Yes! Yes! For you, anything!"

You stroke his cock hard and firm, and kiss his mouth. It hangs open, desperate and needy, and each time you swipe your tongue over his, he groans. The noise sounds deep in his bare chest, sore in the back of his throat.

"Good," you murmur between obscene kisses. "Keep going, Osferth."

As he gets closer to his final peak, his thighs twitch, his hips lift, his head tosses. You keep your pace steady for a moment, but then you stroke him harder and faster than before. Harder, faster. You spit down on his cock head and he twitches at the new sensation.

"Please!" he whines. "Please, please, I can't-"

"You can, Osferth. I know you can."

Surely someone outside will hear. He is too loud not to hear. But he's too far gone to stop, and so are you. How long have you wanted this, to make him like this? All the stolen glances, all the casual touches, all the hours spent together in innocent bliss, they have been leading to something like this.

He kissed you first. But you crossed this line first. He thanked you for it as the sun set. Now the stars are crossing the sky, and his thanks have turned to begs.

"Help me, please, please-"

"Relax, Osferth."

You bury your face into his long neck and inhale his scent, familiar and strange. You bite his earlobe and tug and he cries out. Under your hand, his stomach tenses until his spine curls. From his lips spills your name again and again and again. Breaths come shorter and quicker, more ragged.

"Yes, just like that," you moan into his ear.

He echoes you. "Like that! Oh, yes, yes-!"

"Keep going."

He nods, eyes closed. "Yes, yes, oh Lord, yes-! Shit-! Shit, I'm-!"

His final orgasm is pulled violently from him. Osferth cries, eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked, jaw locked open. You stroke him just as hard and fast as before and glance down to watch him spill. It leaks from his sore cock, milky and hot, and you catch it to make your hand slick again. Through his orgasm you stroke him until he squirms away from you again.

"No more!" he begs.

Carefully, you let him go, and drag your hand up his side. He curls up on the bed, thighs shaking, arms trembling. "I'll be back," you whisper against his ear. Quickly and quietly, you bring over to the bed a bowl of clean water and soft linen cloth. Tenderly, so as not to hurt him, you wipe his spend from your hands and his torso. When you try to clean between his legs, he whimpers and curls away.

"Alright, alright." You smile slightly, and set it aside. You climb onto his bed behind him and press your chest against his back, slot your legs behind his. He's so tall, so lithe and pliant, and he sinks back against you. As you sling one arm over his side, he sighs in contentment.

"Thank you," he murmurs after long moments of peace.

"Hmm?" You kiss his neck idly.

"For... for this."

"You needn't thank me, Osferth."

"But... I would like to anyway. If it pleases you."

Smiling, you run your nose through his soft, short hair. "You please me."

"Thank you."

"Would you like to do this again?"

He pulls your arm tighter around him and kisses your fingers gently. "Yes. But... if it pleases you... I should like to... please you. If you would show me?"

"I would like that, Osferth. I would like that very much."

[aemondsbabe]

Wind's Howling

summary: sharing a bed & accidental stimulation || you're nursing osferth's injury as the two of you spend a cold night together in an inn, but you feel called to help him in another way as well

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, dry humping kind of, kissing, breast/nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex it’s like literally the 800’s sue me, cuddling, osferth whimpering how precious, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day five of 12 days of smuff!! this one can be read as a continuation of love is patient and kind or as a stand alone! enjoy! also yes, the title is a witcher pun

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @black-dread!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

You can hear Osferth let out a soft sigh behind you as you shift yet again in another futile attempt to get comfortable on the thin, lumpy mattress. You sigh too, as you finally settle, only to let out a quiet groan when you realize this position is really no better than the last twenty you tried. 

“Sorry,” you spare a glance over your shoulder as you speak, wincing as another harsh gust of wind blows a cold draft through the room, “I can’t get comfortable enough on this damn thing to sleep.” You say with a defeated sigh. 

“You need not apologize,” the monk murmurs behind you, “Between my shoulder and this cold, sleep eludes me as well.” 

As if on cue, another stinging draft billows through the room, eerily whistling through any cracks it can find. The two of you sigh, defeated — leave it to Uhtred to pick the worst possible inn to stop at, though he had insisted upon it, saying Osferth needed a few days in safety to rest his shoulder and the rest of you needed the opportunity to gather supplies anyway. 

Truthfully, a break was probably a good idea. Ever since the ambush a few days ago, the spirits of your group had been in short supply and members were beginning to bicker and fight amongst themselves. Your poor monk had taken it upon himself to be the peacekeeper, which had only served to cause you more stress as you kept trying to compel him to stay in bed and rest his shoulder. 

You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at the thought of his injury, the memory of him being harshly tugged off his horse in the chaos of the ambush still makes you uneasy; your heart twists in your chest as you think through your list of “what ifs” yet again. 

Almost as if he can sense your thoughts, Osferth bumps the back of your leg with his knee. “Please do not worry yourself, my lady,” he says, a heaviness to his tired voice, “I am fine, we are safe.” 

“How did you know I was thinking about it?” 

“You tense up every time you do.” 

You sigh again before finally turning over to face him, your tired eyes meeting his in the dark room, the only light in the room coming from the full moon outside. 

“Hi,” you murmur after a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers, the corner of his lips quirking up into a soft smirk. 

“How’s your shoulder?” You ask, shrugging one arm out from underneath the thick wool blanket the two of you share to gingerly run your fingers over his arm, taking extra care in the spots you know are still bruised and sore, “Is it feeling any better?” 

“I think so,” he mutters, flexing it a little, “It aches to move it too much but as long as I am still, it causes me no pain.” 

You nod thoughtfully, silently thanking whatever God there may be that he had escaped relatively unharmed. 

After another moment of silence, you wiggle again on the mattress before letting out a quiet, rueful laugh. “I give up,” you groan, “This mattress is useless.” 

Osferth sighs next to you and shuffles closer, reaching out as far as he can without extending his shoulder to skim his long fingers over your arm as an act of comfort, “I’m sorry, my sweet lady.” 

“I should be the one apologizing,” you murmur, “Without my tossing and turning, perhaps you could find sleep.” 

He breathes a quiet laugh through his nose, “You are not what is keeping me awake,” he says with a sigh, “Between this cold and my shoulder, your restlessness is a blessing.” 

The wind howls outside once more and you see Osferth shiver as another draft of bitter air blows through the room. With a sigh, you shuffle closer to him, practically molding the front of your body to the front of his as your legs slot together under the woolen blanket; your eyes flutter closed as you savor the warmth of having him pressed against you, though the action causes your thin linen shift to ride up nearly to the tops of your thighs as one of his long legs presses between yours. 

After a moment, you find yourself squirming for a much different reason, the discomfort of the mattress quickly slipping from the forefront of your mind as your center begins to throb, making you keenly aware of the way the monk’s warm thigh presses against your bare heat, the thin fabric of his breeches the only thing separating the two of you. 

You stay quiet, opting not to disturb him further as you know sleep is important to the healing process. However, it seems his mind is wandering too because after a moment, your eyes shoot open when you feel his hard length pressing against your hip, only to find him already looking at you. 

“Osferth —,”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he murmurs softly, a blush visible on his cheeks even in the dim lighting, “I—,” he starts, though you cut him off with a soft kiss, sighing as his lips press against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. 

“You needn’t apologize,” you whisper, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, “In fact, I can think of something that may help us both sleep…” You tease, just barely rutting your hips against his. 

His eyes slip closed at the feeling, a soft, whimpered sigh escaping his lips before he shakes his head. “You’ve already done so much for me, my lady,” Osferth murmurs, his blue eyes meeting yours once more. 

“So let me do this last thing,” you smile, pressing one more sweet kiss against his lips, “Please?” 

Your monk can’t help but smile at your eagerness and nods, making you smile brightly in the darkness of the small room. Gently, you untangle yourself from him before guiding him onto his back, taking care to ensure that he moves his shoulder as little as possible. Finally, you climb atop him, straddling his hips, both of you groaning at the way your wet, warm center presses against his length through his cotton breeches. You’re careful to keep the blankets wrapped over your shoulders as you maneuver on top of him, lifting your hips just enough to free his length. 

You shiver when you feel him press against you, already throbbing in your grasp as you run the head of his cock through your folds, gasping as it bumps against your already aching bud. 

“Please, my lady,” Osferth groans beneath you, his chest already heaving, “You… you feel too good, please.” 

You can’t help but obey him, smirking at his pleas as you position his length at your entrance. “Shhh, sweet monk,” you soothe, moaning as the head of his cock slips inside you, “Let me make you feel good.” 

Osferth whimpers beneath you as you sink down onto his length with a pleased sigh, your walls already squeezing against him. You gasp softly when he presses fully inside you, your hips resting against his as his length fills you completely, leaving no part of you untouched. You wiggle your hips on top of him, grinding your pearl against him with a soft whimper. 

You slowly start moving atop him, though you quickly pick up the pace as one of his hands grips harshly at your waist, the other remains draped across his chest at your insistence, determined to keep his shoulder safe. You bite your lower lip, intending to stay quiet as you know the walls of the old inn must be quite thin, however that gets harder and harder to do as the tip of Osferth’s cock brushes against that sensitive spot within you every time you sink back down onto him. 

“You feel so good,” the monk gasps as he stares up at you, marveling at how you move against him, at the beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks, at the way your breasts bounce beneath the nearly sheer fabric of your simple shift dress, “So beautiful, my sweet lady.” He sighs, his cock twitching against your walls. 

“Osferth,” you whisper through a harsh gasp, “I love you, my precious monk.” You smile when he groans beneath you, his cock throbbing as you continue moving against him. 

“I — Christ,” he gasps, the hand on your hip pushing itself under your shift dress, “I love you too, sweet girl.” He groans, perhaps a bit too loud, as he cups your breast, kneading your soft skin in his palm. 

You gasp loudly at the added sensation, the heat in your belly threatening to boil over. Blessedly, Osferth seems just as done in as you, his hips squirming beneath yours as he tries to stay still. 

“My lady,” he gasps, blue eyes staring up at you more urgently than before, “My lady, I — !” He cuts himself off with a loud moan when you lean forward to press your bud more firmly against him, which only serves to press his length somehow deeper within you as his fingers toy wildly with your nipple. 

“I know,” you nod your head with a gasp, struggling to keep your eyes open, “I know, my sweet monk. It’s okay, please” you moan, your walls clenching hotly around him as your high finally spills over you, igniting every nerve ending with a blinding pleasure, “God, fuck!” You can’t help but squeal, bracing your hands on either side of the monk’s head as you tumble forward, unable to hold yourself up. 

Osferth whispers your name over and over, as if in prayer, before he finally groans loudly, cock twitching wildly within you as he cums, painting your walls with his thick spend. He moans happily as you sink further down against him, mouthing at your nipples through the fabric of your dress. 

After a moment, your high subsides and you open your eyes once more, giggling softly as you lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. With a sigh, you lift yourself off of him before dropping to the bed with a tired groan. You slot yourself against his side and pull the blanket back up from where it had slipped off, one of your legs draped across the monk’s hips. 

Just as you’re about to open your mouth again to ask about his shoulder, a fist pounds on the wall above your heads from the next room, making the two of you gasp. 

“Oi!” Sihtric calls, his gruff voice muffled, “If you don’t stop fucking like rabbits I’ll come in there and strangle the damn monk myself!” 

“Oops,” you whisper to Osferth through a giggle, nuzzling your head against his neck. 

“I would face the wrath of ten vikings to bed you, my lady,” the monk whispers softly before pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[idkyetxoxo]

Allure | The Last Kingdom

The youngest daughter of Earl Ragnar, Y/n finds herself in a tumultuous relationship with Sihtric Kjartansson. Their violent first meeting sparks hatred. Amidst chaos, they forge an unexpected bond, blurring the lines between enemies and lovers.

Completed (all parts) →

Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty one, Epilogue.

sihtricxreader (the last kingdom series)

This story is also available on wattpad - Allure | The Last Kingdom by @Unofficalavenger3000 🤍

[thenameswinterfics]

THE BLUE BUTTERFLY

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader Settings: Season 2, episode 5 Summary: The summary sucks, but I'll try. After returning from Datchet, Sihtric spends some free time with you, and a group of blue butterflies catch your attention. Word Count: 4K (sorry-) Warnings: Fluff, missing moments, mention of word "whore". There are some minor spoilers from "The Lords of the North" book, so if you're planning on reading them I would advise against reading certain parts. A/N: After being a silent reader for a while and enjoying every exhistent fics on this character, I've decided to write one of my own. The inspiration comes from this post, and after weeks of venting on my terrible writing and fighting the urge of deleting everything, I wrote this! It came out different from what I had imagined, but I'm slightly satisfied. A special thanks to @sihtricfedaraaahvicius, the owner of the linked post, who gently passes me the whole passage from the book, and to @whitedarkmoonflower , @lord-aldhelm and @sylasthegrim for being my amazing beta readers and cheerleaders. I love you, really.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header by @whitedarkmoonflower Dividers by @saradika-graphics

READ IT ON AO3

“She says she loves me, lord,” Sihtric told Uhtred in a quiet voice, careful not to raise it too much as they slipped into the forest in the middle of the night. 

The air grew cold and thick, the full moon rising brightly into the sky, its pale rays faintly illuminating the surroundings as they filtered through the thick bank of fog that enveloped the area like a heavy blanket. The silence of the night was occasionally broken by the chirping of crickets, the hooting of an owl and the sound of leaves and trampled wood. Felted footsteps crossed the woods, a sign that Uhtred and his men were quietly approaching the village of Datchet.

Everyone was silent and cautious, except Sihtric, who was strangely absent-minded and rather distracted, the thought of your gentle smile and soft touch staining his mind like a woodworm eating the pulp of wood.

"Of course she says that," Uhtred replied quickly, hoping that his disinterested answer would quell Sihtric's desire and return his focus to the mission. But it didn’t have the desired effect; on the contrary, it encouraged Sihtric to speak again.

“I swear. She says she loves me!” the Dane retorted, his voice slightly raised as if he had found the courage to defend his feelings against his Lord, to whom he had sworn his life and his sword, for the very first time.

“Sihtric, she’s a whore,” Uhtred said, a hint of irritation could be heard in his voice.

“No,” again, Sihtric raised his voice, which grew brighter as he continued. “She’s past that,” he added with a newfound confidence, words that were far from a lie.

Sihtric had never been loved, nor had he ever felt it, an emotion of which he knew only the name and little of the meaning. How could he ever have understood such a noble thing when he was born and raised in an environment where there was no love? When the only person willing to give him love had been taken from him by a father who wanted nothing to do with him?

He lived in Dunholm, a fortress that was more of a prison than a real home. Kjartan had never felt a shred of compassion for his bastard son: to him, Sihtric was nothing more than an expendable life, a useless existence to be thrown to the dogs, as he had done to his mother, had Tekil not pleaded for his life and taken him into his servitude.

Sihtric had felt his mental chains crumble on the day he offered his life and sword to Uhtred, and vanish on the day Kjartan died, shattered by the endless blows Ragnar had dealt him while taking Dunholm. But of all the emotions that overwhelmed him that day, the void, the emptiness that the absence of love had brought him was hard to assuage. A void that he tried to fill by paying women for pleasure, hoping that one of them would step forward and mend his wounded heart, feeling that love he was craving for almost all his life. And it was in one of his nights of seeking affection from women that he found you.

When you first approached him, he was completely overwhelmed by the way you carried yourself: your ethereal beauty, your soft voice, your long curls and your big, shining eyes, which drew him to you like a moth to a flame, made him wonder why a woman as beautiful as you had chosen this kind of work. The aura that surrounded you both attracted and intimidated him, and Sihtric thought he was looking at Freya herself instead of a mortal woman. 

You took him in your room and both made love that night, soon to be followed by many others, and each time it was the purest of experiences. His rough and trembling hands were soothing against your body while his lips explored every inch of it, savouring you with the utmost respect and devotion as he saw how surprisingly responsive your body was to his touch. Soft kisses and whispers of love parted as your naked forms joined as one, two seemingly different souls in a desperate search for each other, feeding on a love you both sought by others. You desperately clasped at each other when you both reached your high, the bliss of the act made you both dizzy and satisfied. 

Sihtric fell in love with you that night and already thought of you as his wife, and when on a cold winter's day a soft "I love you" escaped your lips while reaching your peak, the Dane warrior asked for your hand, tearing you away from the job that robbed you of the dignity you deserved.

“What she loves is your silver,” another voice, Finan, joined the conversation, and soon a chorus of jokes and laughter from the other warriors followed, mocking the naivety of the young Dane. But Sihtric was not to be deterred, and with the most serious expression his face could show, he looked at Uhtred and spoke again, his words echoing in the silence of the forest.

“I wish to marry her.” 

Again, Uhtred chose to ignore his words, making Sihtric’s impatience growing inside him. 

“Lord, the lady said…” 

"The lady said she loves you, but she seems to be making good use of all the silver I gave you." Uhtred blurted out, not raising his voice too much. He could not see him, but could feel Sihtric's jaw clenching and his eyes almost looking down at his feet, as if he had been caught in the act and was awaiting punishment. 

“I will help you find a wife,” he told the Dane in a lower voice, never looking over his shoulders, “For now, I wish you to kill Danes and survive the night.”

Then a piercing scream from some of the villagers broke the silence of the night. Finan, the first in line, raised his hand to signal a halt, and Uhtred, Sihtric and the other warriors followed. They spotted two Danes resting by a makeshift campfire behind them, and having successfully neutralised them, Uhtred ordered them to hide and wait, not to attack until they were given the order. Sihtric stood near a huge tree, his back pressed against the rough wood, clutching his weapons and fidgeting with the hilt of his sword as he felt the adrenaline of battle coursing through his veins. 

The night was long, and the threat was far from over, but he was indeed following his lord’s advice to survive the night.

Because he knew that after this battle, he would return home, and would find a safe place in your arms.

A new day dawned and winter quietly took its leave of the Saxon lands. The pale rays of the morning sun warmed the earth like an embrace, peeling away the layers of snow and allowing nature to be reborn, blooming with all its colourful vegetation and the intoxicating scent of plants and flowers. Even the animals awoke from hibernation and the warmth of the spring sun allowed them to roam freely in the wild, hunting to feed their young, exploring new places to settle or simply returning like the flock of birds in the sky. 

Spring came to Coccham too, and soon the village enthusiastically welcomed the arrival of the new cycle of life. And you celebrated it by sitting by the river, enjoying the warmth of spring, closing their eyes and feeling the wind dance around them, gently ruffling their long curls. The scent of the lake, a mixture of musk, wet wood and grass, filled your nostrils and you let out a long sigh as the bare skin of your feet dipped into the water. This was the time of day you free yourself from your chores and spend some time with your thoughts. 

When you first set foot in Coccham, you never felt the struggle to find a home of your own, as Sihtric insisted on welcoming you into his own house, which soon became your little love nest. Uhtred had not yet given you his blessing to marry, but in Sihtric's eyes you were already his lovely wife. He used to spend his silver at the village market, buying you all sorts of jewellery to adorn your pale skin and enhance your beauty. And when his silver ran out, he gave you his arm rings and spoils of war, a reward Uhtred gave him when he thought his services worthy. 

The time you spent together was sadly short, as his lord always managed to fill his days with arduous tasks or sending him out on patrol, but as evening fell and you waited for him to come home, he never failed to show you how empty his day was without you. You could read all the love and devotion he felt for you in his timid, mismatched eyes, looking at you like a goddess descended among mere mortals. His calloused hands would always find your soft cheeks, brushing your flesh and lower lips with his thumb before giving you a desperate kiss, feeding on your lips like a hungry predator after a lean day. 

And when there were evenings when Sihtric came home, haunted by the thought of leaving you behind while he was on the battlefield, he would sit by your side by the fire, his forehead pressed against yours as hot tears crossed his sharp face, and kiss every inch of your exposed skin as if it were the last thing he could do before reaching Valhalla. You would spend the night cuddling in bed, crying in each other's arms before sleep took you both, and you would wake in the morning with emptiness wrapped around your arms. 

Uhtred had left weeks ago, taking Sihtric and the rest of his warriors and sailing to Datchet to secure the Thames for King Alfred. You would usually spend your time in Gisela's company, helping her with the household chores and keeping an eye on her children. But the restless night you were facing had left you with a throbbing headache and a bad mood, and you didn't feel the need for human companionship as much as the immaterial one of your thoughts and emotions.

You had learned over time how stressful and heartbreaking it could be to live with a warrior,  and watch him slip silently from your embrace at the crack of dawn. Loneliness had become your silent companion during those long waits, leaving your heart bleeding with pain and your mind filled with imaginary thoughts that would eventually haunt you in your sleep, tossing and turning as false scenarios formed in your mind, your breath itching in your dreams as you saw Sihtric lying lifeless on the ground, no weapons in his hands in your worst nightmares. 

You were jolted from your thoughts by two strong arms wrapped around your waist and a soft gasp escaped your lips. Your bare feet came out of the water and were soon planted on the floor, and before you could react the same arms wrapped around your waist, enveloping your petite body in a warm embrace, your back pressed against a broad chest. 

Fear clouded your mind as you thought you were trapped under the clasp of a filthy man who wanted nothing from you but the pleasure your body could provide, but when you felt the man's head pressed against your shoulder, you shivered as you recognised the touch of his soft lips pressed against the side of your neck. 

"My love," the soft and familiar voice called to you in a sweet chant, soon loosening its grip to allow you to turn around. And it was then that you recognised him: his lean face and sharp jaw, decorated with scars that crossed his forehead and one of his cheekbones, his dark hair cut short at the sides and combed in three braids, the kohl liner around his eyes that seemed to harden a tender and watchful gaze, and that unmistakable tattoo that ran from one side of his head to his neck. All features that could only belong to Sihtric, the Dane warrior who stole your heart from the first moment he laid eyes on you. 

You jumped on him, wrapping your neck around your arms and pecking his face with small kisses. Your sudden move caused him to step back, struggling to find the balance and not fall ruinously to the ground.

“You are back!” you happily stated, stepping back a little to admire him. “And without a scratch!”

“I will always find a way back to you,” Sihtric spoke quietly, a small smile forming on his lips as he rested his forehead on yours, allowing his lungs to fill with your scent, a mixture of myrtle, rosemary and wild flowers. 

“I looked for you all over the village, I thought I would have found you there,” he continued, taking one of your hands and pressing his lips on your slender fingers, enjoying the softness of your skin.

“I was in no mood to spend my time in the company of others,” you confessed lightheartedly, locking your gaze on his. "Besides, where could a defenceless lady go but to fantasise about her lover warrior by the lake?" 

Your witty reply made Sihtric chuckle and shake his head, grabbing your tiny waist with his large hands and pulling you close to him. But when your foreheads touched, too intoxicated by your inviting scent, his smile fell and two dark, troubled eyes extinguished the light they had every time he was near you. A long sigh followed, and you could tell that his mind was tortured as well. 

"Sihtric?" you called quietly, the light touch of your fingers on his cheek bringing him out of his thoughts. "Is something troubling you? Are you hurt?"

"No," was his quiet reply, whispered so softly as to be almost inaudible, and before you could question him further, he wrapped you in a long and desperate embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck. His breathing became shallow and erratic, and judging by his slight trembling, he was on the verge of tears.

“No other woman will be able to replace you. No one,” the Dane thought aloud, preventing you from replying back when his trembling lips captured yours in a needy and desperate kiss, storming your mind with questions you fear there can be no answers to. 

Later that day, the sun was high in the sky and a cloudless blue expanse rose over the village. You could feel the sun's rays hitting your skin with an unpleasant heat, but you were glad that there was a soothing breeze in the air, its cool touch like a balm to your skin, which had become slightly red from prolonged exposure to the sun.

Everyone was busy welcoming King Alfred to Coccham, followed by Lord Odda, some soldiers and thengs, and his small army of priests and monks. When they retired to the main hall to discuss urgent matters, you took the opportunity to release Sihtric from his duties, as his presence was not required at that moment, and hand in hand you walked through the gates of Coccham, approached the small harbour and rested on the grass. 

When you went outside, Sihtric finally gave you all the answers he had been unable to give you before, too overwhelmed by his emotions: he told you of his mission and the time he had spent in Datchet, and of the many times he had asked Uhtred for permission to marry you, only to be met with indifference or veiled refusal. He even told you how he had proposed to arrange a suitable marriage for him, and the very thought of it made you both feel sick inside. 

It was no surprise to you that both the Daneslayer and his warriors frowned upon you; your old profession was a stain on your character that was difficult to wipe away. You were aware of the mischievous glances and veiled comments they made whenever you sat at the same table outside their tavern, to which you always responded with stiff lips and restraint, unlike Sihtric, who, dulled by the alcohol that brought out his dormant impulsiveness, threatened to make the square to anyone who dared offend you. It was your task to calm him down each time, assuring him that it was a temporary situation and that everyone would get used to your presence. But deep in your heart you knew it wouldn't be so.

You sat back in the grass, Sihtric's head in your lap, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the light breeze caressing his face. You stroked his uncombed hair gently, giggling at how soft his hair felt to the touch, while your eyes continued to scan the surroundings, focusing on the men coming and going from the small wooden dock, busy unloading goods from ships or docking others. Then you took your eyes off the water and sighed as you spotted a group of ducks swimming happily in the water, followed by a small group of adorable ducklings squawking loudly.

Suddenly your attention was drawn to a small group of butterflies fluttering along the shore, slowly dispersing into the air, creating a spectacular display of colour. Your jaw dropped slightly, mesmerised by the delicate dance these insects were performing in the air, some allowing the wind to gently transport them from the nearest flowers and feed on their nectar, others resting gracefully on the grass and stretching their bright blue wings a little before continuing their dance. A pleasant warm spread across your chest, feeling a sense of peace and happiness crossing your face. 

“They are a beautiful sight,” a kneaded voice brought you back to reality, feeling Sihtric slightly shifting from your lap. His brown eye was open, looking at the butterflies, while his other one was covered by his forearm.

“Indeed,” you spoke softly, gently pressing your lips on his forehead. You could see his cheeks flushing with the brightest red. “They truly are.” 

One of the butterflies left its group, approaching you. Sihtric leanend one of his arms, stretching one of his fingers to welcome the insect. He chuckled lightly when he felt your curious gaze over him, and soon his mismatched eyes were locked into yours.

“I have heard stories saying that blue butterflies are meant to bring luck,” he explained quietly, his gaze now shifted again on the insect, which stood in midair, watching his finger. “The longer it stays on your finger, the longer your luck lasts.” 

Sihtric waited for the butterfly to pose on his finger, a hint of impatience growing in him as he secretly begged the insect to rest as long as possible and bring you both luck. But it chose not to rest, spreading its wings and turning its attention elsewhere. He let out a frustrated groan, which was greeted by your delicate laugh. Your voice was a melody to his ears. 

"Then I guess you have no luck," you said, a slight grin forming at the corner of your mouth, your hand continuing to rub Sihtric's hair in small, circular motions. Your reply caused Sihtric to move from where he was sitting on the grass and look at your face: his dark, loose hair seemed to soften his features, his two-toned eyes lit up at the sight of your smile, making his heart pound in his chest and his breath quicken. His trembling hands rested on your cheeks, rubbing them with the utmost care, afraid that you might break under his rough touch. 

"I am lucky, my lady," he whispered, resting his forehead on yours. "A little butterfly may not have given me luck, but the gods have given me you, a far greater blessing than any fleeting luck could provide." 

He slowly drew you closer, rubbing the tips of your noses and waiting for your permission. When you nodded softly, sighing at his soothing touch, he locked his lips to yours in a tender kiss, a light touch soon followed by deeper contact. He placed his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing urgently against it, rubbing your exposed flesh in slow, circular motions, his sudden movement making you tremble and a soft moan escaping your throat. 

As the kiss deepened and the heat of pleasure engulfed you both, you felt a gentle tickling crossing your hand, causing you to break the kiss. You looked down your hand and a gasp escaped from your lips.

"Sihtric, look!" you called, shaking his arm without hurting him too much, and when you were sure his gaze was fixed on you, you gently raised your hand to reveal the same butterfly as before peacefully perched on your finger. Words were superfluous to describe the surreal moment, and you both stood still, watching in amazement as its shiny wings closed and reopened, both of you secretly telling the insect to rest as much as it could. In this silent exchange of glances and thoughts, it was as if nature had intervened in your path, whispering promises of future serenity and joy amidst the chaos of the world. 

You felt Sihtric raising off the ground urgently, and without uttering a word he approached the gates. You gave him a puzzled look, stunned by his sudden move. “Where are you going?”

“To lord Uhtred,” Sihtric turned around and looked at you, a wide smile crossing his face. “I will ask his permission to marry you again.” 

“But lord Uhtred already gave his decision,” you replied back, slightly raising his voice as you saw him approaching the gates. 

“The blue butterfly.” he replied in a cheerful voice, pointing to the small insect still in your hand. “We have been blessed by luck. I will marry you, my love. I swear I will!” 

And it was at that moment that you saw his figure cross the gates and slowly disappear into the distance, leaving you alone. You let out a long sigh, the corners of your lips curling into a small smile, and fixed your gaze on the butterfly, which awkwardly spread its wings, leaving your finger behind before rejoining its group and disappearing into the air.  

That butterfly brought you luck. That was what Sihtric thought, while you continued to believe that Gisela's help was behind it all, when Uhtred finally gave his permission to marry you, on the condition that he complete a task for him. Sihtric came back to you, showering your face with soft and urgent kisses, his heart heavy at having to leave you again, but his spirit lifted at the thought that after this mission you would finally be his and his only. 

Fortunately, Sihtric didn't keep you waiting too long, for he returned from Skald's Hall a few days later, and by mutual agreement, a small and intimate wedding ceremony was held on Frigga's Day, according to Sihtric's religion and beliefs. His eyes could not stay in contact with yours for too long, your dazzling beauty sending shivers down his spine and dulling his senses, for he could still not believe that the gods had allowed him a glimpse of happiness by sending you on his path. After the exchange of your wedding rings and Sihtric's promise to be the devoted and loving husband you deserve, clutching his Mjolnir pendant in his hands, a kiss sealed the much awaited union, witnessed by the few present and the watchful eyes of the gods.

And when the two of you would sit in the same place years later with your stomach fertile with new life, a blue butterfly would rest on your outstretched finger, bringing good fortune and prosperity to your happy union for years to come.  

Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm

[fieldofdaisiies]

I've Got You

ship: Sihtric Kjartansson x female!Reader type: angst/fluff word count: 2k warnings: talks of violence and wounds summary: I've become obsessed with TLK again and maybe also with Sihtric; so here a little fic about you and Sihtric riding together on a horse back after he saved you

~all rights reserved~

"Come on," Sihtric says to you, pointing at the large, dark horse beside him. It looks majestic and at the same time absolutely terrifying — you have never been on a horse in your whole life and– 

"Come on, we need to leave. Now." There is urgency in his uttering, yet his gaze remains empathetic.

The convent where you have spent your entire life in was suddenly attacked. They mercilessly took down the guards, hurt you and your sisters, and as you tried to flee, one of the brutes followed after you. Despite your attempts to escape, his blade managed to slice into your calf, leaving a deep gash there. Unbeknownst to you, help has arrived outside, slaying the attackers. 

And out of nowhere, a man appeared in the corridor you tried to escape him, almost like a heroic figure emerging from the turmoil of the battle. With skill that was beyond you, he killed the attacker with his sword, ending his life right before your eyes. 

With remarkable ease, the man who revealed himself as Sihtric then swept you up in his strong arms, carrying you over his shoulder outside into safety.

Once joined by other men, and also some of your covent sisters he placed you on the ground next to a large horse and this is where you find yourself now, staring at him with eyes and your mouth wide open.

Your heart is beating so incredibly fast, hammering against your ribcage. There is so much pain in your system, so much panic, and fear, your whole body is shaking with the terror of what just happened. 

You suck in a sharp breath, then another, your head feeling dizzy as tears start to cloud your vision. 

"I…I can't…ride," you stammer, a whirlwind of emotions brewing in your mind. Your feel how your fingers tremble, how wobbly your knees are. The ground beneath you is covered in frost, crunching when you reposition your feet.  

Something like sympathy passes over Sihtric's face and he reaches out and gently grabs your arm, his touch surprisingly tender. "Then we are riding together."

The words struck you immediately — riding with him, with him on the back of the horse! 

You are a good Christian woman, you have never been so close to a man. It scares you, but the emotions are not stronger than the panic inside of you, and the urge to leave this place. You need to get away, fast. You know what you witnessed will haunt you forever, but staying here for longer won't make it any better. You need to get away from here. 

One after the other your sisters are lifted onto horses as well, always riding with one of Sihtric's companions. A few of them are guided towards a very small carriage, your gaze following them until they disappear. 

A gentle breeze starts to blow, gradually cooling the air around you and you find yourself shivering, both out of fear and the cold. 

"Ride with me?" you hear the man next to you ask, almost like he is waiting for your consent. And God in heaven above, he truly is. 

"Yes…" you say in a voice barely above a whisper, seeing tendrils of breath in front of your face. 

Without hesitation and with strength that is beyond you, he lifts you off the ground, gently, and onto the back of the majestic, dark horse, onto the fur placed their. Your legs swiftly wrap around its strong body as you clutch the pommel tightly, a feeling of fear gnawing at your gut. 

You're so high up, perched on this powerful creature. Your rob shifts upwards, revealing the pale skin of your legs and another shudder courses through you. If he notices, he does not let show, his gaze trained only on the horse, his jaw tense. 

Sihtric wastes no time in mounting the horse behind you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Uncertain of how to react, you remain frozen as he edges closer, gently pushing his chest, nothing but solid muscles beneath his leather armour, against your back. You feel how your hips are enclosed by his strong thighs, capturing you. 

A shiver runs through you as you make contact with him – it's a sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

A breath whooshes out of you when you urge yourself to relax your body. You can't escape the closeness to him up here, so you might as well give into it before you make your both fall off the horse. 

"Let's go!" one man commands. He looks like the leader of the group, but you don't know for sure. Sihtric behind you shouts his answer. His warm breath tickles your neck, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end. 

Your hands tremble as he wraps one arm around your waist for support and takes the reins with the other hand. Why did you let him touch you so intimately? What's come over you? This is not like you. 

The wind grows stronger, now flakes of snow starting to fall, getting caught in your hair. It is growing colder, and the horse finally starts to move. It is bumpy, and despite the strong arm around you, you fear you might fall. 

You shift slightly, trying to find a more secure position, but this elicits an unexpected groan from the man behind you. 

"Don't do that," he grumbles behind you before urging the horse to move a little faster, albeit at a slower pace than the others. 

You are left confused, your body all of a sudden tense again and you don't move at all. Soon, you fall in line with others, their horses moving gracefully in sync with yours, all trotting at the same pace. The rhythmic beat of hooves hitting the ground creates a melody around you that slowly soothes the panic inside of you. Yet, your breathing is shaky and ragged, suddenly the memories of what you saw flooding your mind again — you see it all, the blood, the pain, the violence. 

Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes close and you try to level your breathing. Small snow flakes land on your face and get caught in your hair. You blow out a long breath, heart beating so unsteadily in your chest. Biting down on your lower lip, you try to direct your thoughts to more positive things, thinking about happy times in the covent. 

Sihtric watches you from behind, your figure so fragile in his strong arms. It almost feels like you could break any second, and he knows that you were close to doing so back at the convent. 

His mission is to protect you now, forever, it seems like it is his destiny. There is something about you, something that brings out an enormous sense of protectiveness. He has seen the flame of determination vanish when you first made eye-contact in that corridor. 

Sihtric looks at you for a moment longer, revelling in the warmth and the feel of your body against his. 

You, other than he himself, even smell nice, like chamomile and parchment. From time to time he can feel you shudder, the little clothing, the robe you are wearing, not shielding you from the cold of the winter. He wishes he would have given you his coat earlier, but right now it is too late and he can only provide you warmth with his body. 

Once you arrive and once the wound on your calf is looked over and taken care of, he will see that you are provided with a coat and fur to keep you warm. 

Another shudder courses through you, your body trembling in his hold. 

"I've got you," he assures you, his voice suddenly so very soft and calm, and you offer a hesitant nod. 

The horse carries you through the landscape at a not too fast pace, allowing you to take in the surroundings — snow covered landscape, looming mountains, and weathered trees. You have never been out here. 

"You are safe now." You feel his hand move from your waist to your hip, no longer gripping you so tightly.

"And you don't ever need to fear again." It is another young man whose voice you suddenly hear and your head whips to the side. He is wearing a soft smile, one of your sister's is seated behind him on the horse, both her arms wrapped around his torso. "None of you needs to fear, you are safe now." 

You find yourself nodding at him, his kindness warming your chest a little bit. 

"Osferth," he whispers and you tell him your own name in a silent voice. "Y/N."

With the tilt of his head, and an empathetic smile on his lips, he urges his horse to move faster, past you. Your eyes stay on your covent sister and the man for a moment longer, until you look back at the head of the horse you sit atop. 

The landscape starts to darken in the distance and you find yourself wondering if you will stop soon, and build up so tents where you can sleep in. But then you actually don't know if they even have tents with them. You don't know where they normally sleep. But the one thing you know is that you will never sleep in your bed ever again. And that unsettles you — you will never have the comfort of your once safe space again. It will never be the same again, you will never have your old life again. 

It is almost like he can feel his distress, leaning in the slightest bit closer. 

"Would you like to go faster as well?" Sihtric inquires, his grip on your hip tightening slightly. 

You nod and he signals the horse to pick up the pace, and it obeys, galloping across the snow-covered land with newfound speed. 

In order to keep you safe, he pulls you even closer, and the sensation is exhilarating. There is no space between your bodies, and for a moment you think you can feel his heart beat through his skin and leathery armour. 

You've always been afraid of riding, but right now, you're completely lost in the moment—galloping across the land, drawing closer to the edge of the forest. You feel free, alive, all of a sudden as the cool wind whips across your face, through your hair and feels your lungs. 

And then— 

Frustration surges through you as you abruptly come to a halt.

Everyone has stopped, slowly climbing of their horses. It almost seems like this all works without any conversation passing between them. 

Without hesitation, Sihtric shifts behind you, letting go off your waist and also dismounts his horse. 

You watch, eyes wide open and wary, how people start to hurdle around, gathering and collecting things. Everyone is tasked with something, many collecting firewood, some already starting to build up tents. You don't even know where to look, there is so much happening. 

"Y/N?"

Slowly you turn your head to the sound. Your name from his lips is like the most beautiful song you've ever heard, it brushes your skin, your terribly cold and pebbled skin, like a feather. 

Sihtric extends his hand for you to follow suit. "Let me help you dismount the horse."

He watches you closely as you reach for his hand, trembling, cold fingers curling around his. 

You don't know how to dismount the horse, still wearing the long robes. You hesitantly, and with great difficulty pull your leg over the back of the horse, and suddenly—

You lose your balance and start to slide and eventually fall, but before you can hit the ground, he swiftly wraps his arm around your waist, catching you, clasping you tightly to his body. "I got you," he once again says, carefully placing you on the ground, allowing you to regain your footing. You take a deep breath and look up at him, offering a mumbled thank you. Your eyes lock. 

"Always," he replies with a sincere look in his eyes, and a smile tugs at your lips. You want him to see how grateful you are what he is doing for you, but you can't find the right words. 

"I will see that someone looks over your wound, then we will find you warm clothing and a place you can sleep tonight." He steps away, extends his arm to show you the way to…

[kingdom-of-sins]

Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader

Sihtric is badly injured and Uhtred and his gang of bastards takes him to the nearest healer available

The sky is overcast, and a light drizzle falls over the small village as Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth lead a barely conscious Sihtric through the narrow, muddy streets. His injuries are severe, and the urgency to find a healer weighs heavily on them. The village is quiet, with only a few villagers braving the rain, and they quickly direct the group to the healer’s house at the edge of the settlement.

You’re in the middle of preparing herbs when you hear a knock on the door. The soft murmur of voices tells you it’s urgent. You open the door to find the three men, soaked from the rain, with one of them slumped between the other two, barely able to stand.

“He’s hurt bad,” Uhtred says, his voice thick with worry. “Can you help him?”

Your eyes quickly assess Sihtric, noting the blood and the deep cuts that need tending. Without hesitation, you nod. “Bring him inside.”

They carry him into your home, gently laying him down on the bed. Sihtric’s eyes flutter open as you begin your work, though his gaze is unfocused, and he’s only semi-conscious. He catches a glimpse of you—your dark hair framing your face, your soft eyes filled with concern as you move with practiced care—and even in his pain, he feels a strange warmth spread through him.

You work swiftly, cleaning his wounds, applying poultices, and wrapping bandages around his torso. The other three watch with bated breath, their trust in your skill evident in their silence. As you work, Sihtric mumbles incoherently, his words slurred and soft, but his eyes never leave your face. You glance at him, noting the odd mix of pain and something else—something like awe—in his gaze, but you dismiss it, focusing on your task.

“He’ll need to rest,” you say, turning to Uhtred. “The wounds are deep, but with proper care, he’ll recover. You can leave him here. I’ll make sure he’s looked after.”

Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth exchange glances, clearly reluctant to leave their friend behind, but they trust your expertise. “We’ll return in the morning,” Uhtred says, his voice firm yet grateful. “Thank you.”

Once they’ve left, you make sure Sihtric is comfortable, adjusting the blankets around him. The rain outside intensifies, pattering against the roof in a rough rhythm. You sit by his bedside, watching him drift in and out of consciousness. His mumbling continues, and though you can’t make out his words, the sound of his voice is strangely soothing.

As the night deepens, you light a small fire in the hearth, its warmth filling the room. Sihtric’s breathing steadies, and you finally allow yourself to relax, watching the flames dance. You remain by his side until your eyelids grow heavy, eventually drifting off in the chair beside him.

Morning comes with a gentle light filtering through the window. The rain has lessened to a fine mist, and the air is fresh with the scent of wet earth. You wake to the soft sound of rustling and see that Sihtric has woken up, his eyes slowly focusing on his surroundings. He looks down at the bandages wrapped around his chest, then up at you, watching you as you prepare a fresh batch of herbs at a small table nearby.

You feel his gaze on you and turn with a soft smile. “Good morning,” you say, walking over to him with the prepared herbs. “How do you feel?”

He blinks, as if unsure whether he’s still dreaming. His voice is rough with sleep and pain as he answers, “Better… I think.”

You smile at him, a warm, genuine smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “You will be,” you assure him. “I’ve made something to help with the pain and to aid your healing. You should rest for a few more days.”

As you sit on the edge of the bed to apply the fresh herbs, Sihtric can’t take his eyes off you. He’s still weak, but the pain seems distant now, overshadowed by the softness in your eyes and the care in your touch.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

“You’re welcome,” you reply, looking at him with a mixture of kindness and amusement. “It’s my duty to help, but I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

He watches you work in silence, his heart swelling with something he can’t quite name. It’s as though he’s known you forever, as though he’s been searching for you his whole life without realizing it. In that moment, he vows that once he’s healed, he’ll find a way to express what he’s feeling.

As you finish applying the herbs and stand to leave, he reaches out, gently catching your hand. You pause, looking down at him in surprise.

“Stay… please,” he whispers, his eyes pleading.

You hesitate, then sit back down, your hand still in his. “I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him, your voice soft.

Sihtric smiles faintly, his grip on your hand loosening as sleep begins to pull him under again. His heart is full, and even in his weakened state, he knows he’s found something special, something worth fighting for.

As he drifts off, he whispers something so quietly that you barely catch it—a word, maybe a name, lost to the sound of the rain and the steady rhythm of his breathing. You stay by his side, watching over him as he sleeps, and wonder what it was that made him hold on to you so tightly, what it was that made him look at you as if you were the most important thing in his world.

And as the day wears on, you realize that you, too, are looking at him in a way you never expected to look at a patient—with hope, with warmth, and perhaps with the beginnings of something more.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

There is a first time for everything (Osferth x barmaid!Reader)

synopsis: They say there is a first time for everything, yet never in a milion years would Osferth have thought he would lose that specific first time to someone as gorgeous as you.

warnings: Osferth being teased for being a virgin, basically pwp, p in v, oral m receiving, flirty reader, afab reader

word count: 1.8k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

“Are you going to stay a virgin forever, baby monk?” One teased, boisterously handing him a cup of ale, just as you passed to fill up their drinks. Osferth’s eyes landed on you almost immediately to, what you assumed, make sure if you had heard that. Only to visibly come to the conclusion that no delusion in the world could convince him that you hadn´t. His ears were pink and his cheeks burned cherry red. He looked immensely uncomfortable with the teasing, almost like he wants to drown himself in the cup, which gains him a sympathetic look, before you move on to serve the next table. From afar you can still see him take a sip of his drink, trying to appear unbothered by the comments. Just as one of his friends slapped him on the back, causing him to spill some of his drink on his robes. "Monk boy needs to get laid!" he laughed, causing Osferth to further blush and want to die of mortification.

As you pass the table yet again, you give Osferth a small wink and a reassuring smile, though you also make an effort to let your hips sway a bit more than before. You felt yourself weirdly drawn towards his seemingly sweet nature amidst the chaos and depravity of his friends. Osferth felt his face heat up even more, he couldn't help but stare at her ass. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Instead, he just continued to wish his friends would stop embarrassing him in front of you already.

Later that night, after closing time, Alenna found Osferth sitting alone, nursing yet another mug of ale. She walked over to him and sat down beside him.

"Where did you leave your loud friends, baby monk?" You lean in teasingly with her elbows propped up on your thighs and a lazy smile on your lips.

Osferth looked up at you, he noticed how close you were sitting, and he could feel the warmth of your body close by. He also noticed how your breasts pressed together against your tight blouse, and he couldn't help but feel aroused despite himself.

"They... left." he managed to say between sips of ale. He looked away, feeling his face grow even more crimson. "I think they went to visit some brothel or other... They wanted me to join. Said I needed to get laid or something..." he trailed off, not wanting to continue the sentence.

“Hm, it was hard to miss that." You giggle at the memories of their earlier antics. Then you become calmer. "And what do you want?"

He looked at you, his eyes wide and innocent. He had no idea how to act around someone so beautiful and confident.

"W-what do you mean 'what do I want'?" he asked. He had never been approached like that by a woman before, and he didn't quite know how to handle it.

You chuckle and reach out to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. You lean closer to him, taking note of his scent before speaking softly.

"Desires. You want something don't you?" Your breath is hot against his ear as you whisper the word. "Or maybe you're tired of those loud friends telling you what to do?”

You pause to let the words sink in for a moment then you speak once more. “To ask in more plain language... Do you want to lose your virginity or are you content keeping it? It is all up to you. No one else should make that decision for you."

Silence settles over them. The choice truly is up to him and whatever it would be, she would respect it. Osferth felt his heart race as you spoke softly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to speak.

"I... I don't want to keep it," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. He could feel the stiffness growing between his legs as he thought about losing his virginity.

"Aren´t you sweet?" You coo against his lips, teasing a kiss, before you lets your lips wander down his neck. Never once actually letting them touch his skin. "Just remember, should you ever wish to stop or want me to do something specific just tell me. I want this to be as pleasant for you as it possibly can be."

As you began to tease him with kisses along his neck, you also remove his robes, listening the soft moans. The blond shut his eyes tightly for a moment, he had always been taught that sex was something shameful and dirty, yet he found himself getting harder and craving the touch with each passing second as you undressed him.

When you reveal his cock, he watched as you admired it, your hand moving gently over it. Applying soft pressure to make it leak even more of the pearly precum, which collected at the tip of his member, from your place on the floor between his legs. He felt a surge of pleasure throughout his entire body.

“Is that alright?” you ask in a raspy voice as you feel him shiver.

He nodded silently, unable to find the words to speak. So, he let out a soft moan as Alenna’s hand continued to work magic on his length, driving him closer and closer to release.

"Use your words, baby monk. Tell me what you want." You try to coax an answer out of Osferth. Though it is clearly visible that he is overtaken by the pleasure he had never felt before.

His mind raced as he tried to think of how to express what he wanted but found himself unable to form coherent sentences. All he could manage was a series of incoherent grunts and groans as your hand continued rubbing his cock. The shaft twitched seemingly restlessly in your palm as you move your head down to lick small stripes at his sensitive, flushed tip. Instinctively Osferth´s hand comes to guide your head deeper onto his cock. Slurping and slight gagging sounds fill the room until you eagerly get pulled off him with a desperate whimper.

You know he is close. It is etched into every small muscle and crease of his face and so you let him move you away before you ask. “Where do you want to come?”

"Fuck me... please... fuck me..." He managed to gasp out. “I want to come inside of you.”

And with those words, he surrendered completely to the pleasure of the moment, letting go of any shame or hesitation that he might have felt any remnants of before.

Quickly you move your skirt and any other clothes out of the way and sink down on his lap with his cock buried deep in your tight folds, gasping at how well he filled her out. Osferth´s hands find their way to your breasts, cupping them gently and massaging them as he felt her tightness wrap around his throbbing member. At the same time, you bury your hands in his hair. The pace of your thrusts is barely matched by his desperate strokes, trying to keep up with all the intense sensations. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pleasure, and he didn't want the moment ever to end.

The slight upwards curve of his cock has Osferth´s length rub against that special spot inside with every thrust, making you see stars as you throw your head back in pleasure.

"So good." There is a drawl to your words from the cloud of pleasure that overwhelms your own brain. "Fuck, you can touch me harder. I won't break."

Osferth let out a low groan and complied with her request, increasing the force of his strokes, and gripping her breasts more firmly as he felt her body trembling above him. He could see the pleasure etched onto your face like you were an open book and he found himself feeling incredibly satisfied by bringing you such joy.

"I'm not gonna last much longer..." You mewl, bringing one of your hands down between your thighs to caress your sensitive pearl, heightening the pleasure that made your walls grip his cock even tighter. Osferth felt your approach to orgasm and increased the depth of his thrusts even further, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible before you both released. He watched as your hand worked its magic between your legs, committing the movements and your in pure ecstasy contorted face to memory. When he is sure what to do, the blond gently pushes your hand aside to replace your finger with his thumb, rubbing the same circles into your flesh. As he takes over on rubbing circles into your clit your hands go to hold onto his shoulders to keep from slumping against his chest.

It doesn't take long for your movements to falter under his ministrations, waves of pleasure shaking your body as the knot that had built in your lower stomach snaps. Osferth however continues to fuck into you, chasing his own release, which claims him only moments later. Encouraged by your fluttering walls, rolled back eyes and downright sinful moans.

As you let out a long, drawn-out moan and cried out in pleasure, Osferth let out a loud groan and came inside of you, filling your womb with his thick seed as he experienced the ultimate pleasure of release for the first time. He felt like he was on fire, every nerve in his body burning with need even after his peak had stopped overwhelming him.

You stay in Osferth´s lap until the two of you have found your breath again and his cock has softened inside of you. Only then, you stand up to go clean up.

"How was that for a first time?” You ask him with another lazy smile and hazy eyes that glow in the light of your previous orgasm as you fix his messy hair with gentle touches and clean his cock with a damp towel. Osferth looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion, his member still throbbing under the gentle, lukewarm towel. He nodded in response to your question, unable to speak for the moment due to lack of breath.

"I do not feel like I've done justice to how amazing you felt around me." He answers once he regains his mind, a weak grin grazing his lips.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. A bell like giggle escapes you at his statement.

"Well, you could always come back tomorrow..." You invite him in a sultry tone, eyes falling half close to give an equally seductive look.

The next day you hear his friends before they even enter the tavern. Smiling to yourself as you go to greet them and take their orders of assumingly more ale, it becomes more clear that they remained unaware as to what happened to their friend after they left the prior night. So, Alenna gives Osferth a wink and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. "I cannot wait to see you again later. I had a lot of fun last night..."

[tlkfaerie]

Ribbons ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: Finan x reader

a/n: Response to a lovely request! My first request, actually! Finally doing a solo Finan piece :) A bit soppier than I had originally planned, but I love it and I love Finan soooooo. Also the circumstance / sequence of events aren't entirely accurately in line with the events of the show but we move.

MDNI!18+ : TW finan x reader, dom!finan, virgin!reader, virginity loss, manhandling, kissing, very brief mentions of loss, fingering, p in v sex, confessions of love, slight breeding!kink

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

Things were tense when the men staggered back to the stronghold. They had won their latest battle involving Mercia and Bloodhair, though at the cost of a disastrous curse upon Uhtred's family. You selfishly prayed for Finan's safety, despite the two of you not being together. You were great friends, and though the others were familiar to you too, it was Finan that you truly wished to return in one piece.

You spent your time at home praying for the souls of those who had been lost, thinking about the wise words that Hild so graciously bestowed on you. You felt her absence more than ever, needing her sweet guidance, but aware that she was already spread thin. Everyone was.

As winter crept into your home, you wallowed slightly, missing everyone. But you had a duty, an alehouse to run. It was where you had met everyone originally, and had turned into somewhat of a cornucopia for Coccham. You knew that in order to keep spirits high, you'd have to open it up and welcome everyone in. Your hearth was where you had first met Finan, sitting with Uhtred as the two of them laughed. Hild had introduced you, and your speechlessness was the source of several laughs.

You had sat with them on the table that night, laughing with Hild, who you truly saw as your aspiration. Uhtred noticed this, joking about how you reminded him of his children, which had made you huff slightly. You were embarrassed of this, but Finan assured you that you were alright, muttering some joke about how you clearly had the spirit of a warrior within you to deal with these drunken men.

It had been a slow night, but you would rejoin them when you could, smiling at Finan every now and then. Finan's eyes had scrunched up too, but his lingering look had you blushing all throughout the night. From then on, the warriors had frequented your place. You and Finan would often sit and chat. He loved that he could talk to you. For once, it was not about war, or combat, or blasted shield walls. He was sick to death of hearing the names Alfred or Edward, and you gave him peace from all of that.

It filled you with warmth to see everyone so carefree and jolly, especially as it was your father's wish when he opened the alehouse to make an honest place of it. Every now and then, a regular face would vanish, and you felt it like a sting in your core, but you carried on nevertheless.

You lived just above the alehouse, walking down the steep wooden steps as you tried to alleviate your chill. Nothing seemed to work. Lighting candles and preparing some food for the hungry travellers that would arrive soon. You had heard news that the travelling party were returning from Winchester within the next few hours, feeling sadness at the inevitable loss and pain that would be felt all through the town, but also the deep, hidden feelings of desire that you so heavily pushed to one side.

Every time you saw Finan leave, you felt a tinge of regret within you. After all, he was Uhtred's right hand man by all accounts, and great responsibilities were often given to him. What if he were to never return? You supposed it was silly to think more of your confessions being told than him returning with his life, but you were sick of pushing down these feelings. You felt like some sort of angel when his gaze fell on you, which it did, often. And when he would come in for a final glass of ale, though what you didn't know is that he was really just looking for an excuse to talk to you.

He had seemed grave when you saw him last, trying to keep smiling at you but looking away darkly every now and then. You, none the wiser, had given him a cheerful departure, promising a full meal for him and his friends upon his return. You had assured him that the plate would be waiting for him, only if he came home in one piece. The gesture was halfhearted, though to him it was a challenge. He had left beside Uhtred, meditating upon his horse about you.

You.

Finan really, really loved you. He was always incredibly outgoing, and so you assumed he would just wed someone more like him, but Finan dreamed of you almost every night. It tortured him that he was so quick with his words, and yet they seemed to disappear from him whenever he saw you. Your plump lips, your wide eyes, full of life and unsoiled by the rot of death. You were the exact opposite of what he encountered on his missions and tasks, and though he loved his life alongside his trusted Lord, he wanted something to do it all for. And that something was you. He would make sure of that.

As both of your feelings nearly spilled over each other, it was time for someone to do something.

It seemed like you had wasted your whole day, silently waiting for the evening to come, when finally, you heard some commotion - your heart sent flashes of longing through you. You felt somewhat pathetic, watching the door of your alehouse for that specific person to come through. But, when you know, you know.

Suddenly, a stream of townsfolk walked in. Some came holding hands, some even came with their children, which you didn't mind, offering them some meat pies and ruffling their hairs. You spoke with some of the women, delighted to have their husbands back and eager to get you away to spend time with them soon. You joked about being stuck behind the brewery, handing out copious pints of ale. Within the next twenty minutes, your hands were so sticky that you started flapping them furiously.

Finally, you made your way outside, wanting to do a round of everyone sitting on the benches. There, you found Finan and Osferth. Sihtric was over in the corner, with his wife, the two of them beckoning you towards them.

Giving them quick greetings, you drunk in some of the news from Sihtric, who informed you that Uhtred was still in Winchester for some time with Hild, and that he had suffered a great loss. Your head bowed at that, not wanting or needing to know any more. You wished the both of them and their children well, before granting a weak smile to the two men now before you.

Osferth gave a weak smile, fondly remembering happier times in the alehouse and wishing he could match his previous energy. You hugged him tightly, knowing he was more sensitive and newer to the trade of being a warrior, though you didn't expect him to hold on so tightly to you. You sunk into his unfamiliar embrace for a moment, before Osferth pulled away.

And there he was. Finan. You had never seen him looking more tired, slightly long hair giving him a dishevelled look. Though equally, he was beautiful. No amount of sadness could take away the kind, observant look in his eyes. He seemed to be in his own world, and you didn't want to disturb, but then he looked at you, and the faintest smile stretched onto his lips.

You wanted Finan to hold you. You wanted his warm embrace then and there, but something told you it would take a little more time. His brows are furrowed and a strong wrinkle emerges between them, telling you that he is far from relaxed. You gulp slightly, the promise of a meal still hanging in the air.

With a hand still on Osferth's shoulder, you said nothing as you gave him an empathetic nod, tilting your head and smiling as best as you could. Your chest filled with relief when his little wrinkle disappeared. The shadows lifted just slightly, and there he was. He understood you somehow, an unspoken look flittering between you, and then you were gone.

There was so much you wanted to talk to Finan about. You ached to have your friend back, even if that dynamic did pain you. He still came to the tavern, even when Uhtred returned, though he was unusually silent as weeks flew by. Even as things picked up and spirits were back to normal, Finan seemed to be stuck somehow.

You entertained mostly Uhtred and Sihtric most nights, helping them heal ever so slightly with perhaps a little too much ale. You had even begun watering it down less, which did not go unnoticed by them. You prayed with Osferth too, mostly to keep him company.

It wasn't until a whole month had passed that you could no longer take it. Finan's usual loud voice could no longer be something of the past. You needed to tell him how you felt. You knew that you had to do something tonight.

You spent far too long in the mirror during the hour before you would open. You knew it would be a busy night, as the snow had finally ceased, and people were no longer cooped up in their homes. They would want warm drink and entertainment, and you would give them just that.

"Come on, Y/N." You nudged yourself, looping two ribbons into the two braids that you had meticulously gathered with your unruly hair, pinching your cheeks before letting out a slight laugh. You hadn't realised just how much you truly valued Finan's entire personality until it changed whenever you came near. Surely freshening up a bit would impress him?

Meanwhile, as though he was mirroring you, Finan ran his hands through his hair, sitting patiently in his own company. He had been surrounded by his loud companions all day, laughing and working, enjoying any semblance of peace that he could. The Irishman thought of nothing but you, however, and felt that if he did not do something soon he would combust into a million pieces.

Truthfully, after his last visit to Mercia, he had pulled back from you slightly. He needed you so deeply, but couldn't bear the thought of making you wait around for him, worrying if he would come home or not. There was also the additional danger of his weapons everywhere, his being at Uhtred's side constantly, and the threat of having something so precious to him be so targeted. He wanted you more than he wanted to breathe.

After that first day where you had been babbling to Hild in your alehouse, he was stunned. He was in awe of how you ran the place, even with the death of your father, never allowing anyone to step on your toes, even though he would have been more than willing to help. He admired your trust in things, never fearing of the worst, unlike he had. Since his days on the ship, all he had craved was something, anything, to come home to.

Nothing had filled that space until he saw you prancing around the alehouse, clumsily spilling drinks and shaking your sticky hands in his face to annoy him, your loud laughter echoing in his mind even now as he had tried to pull you into the mess you had made.

The memory shone in his mind, so prominent that he quite literally couldn't think straight. He didn't want to be absent towards you now, but his very existence intermingling with yours was a threat to your life, and perhaps your happiness. Could he do that to you?

As the tavern bustled into life, you couldn't stop fiddling with your braids. Some of your friends had offered to touch them up, which only worried you more, but they teased you still, pinching your cheek when you had confessed to them what you were going to do tonight.

You would your hands into the handles of at least ten cups, delivering them to the table of several hefty warriors who barely fit on your stools, making a mental note to get some warrior-friendly seating arranged.

"Here you are boys," you greeted them lightly, recognising a few, particularly Uhtred, who looked like he had seen better days. His hair was loose, strewn all over his face, but a smile graced his face, which reassured you.

"You might want to slow down, Lord," you teased, anticipating his reaction. He cocked his brow, piercing blue eyes observing you graciously. "Y/N, you're too good to me. Too good." He raised a glass to you, and you playfully rolled your eyes, a renewed sense of confidence overtaking you.

As you were about to turn around, you collided with hard leathers, belonging to a very firm chest. Towering above you was Finan. You quickly fiddled with your braid, hoping he would be enticed by them. So stupid, you thought to yourself.

"Have you forgotten what incredibly handsome men look like, or are you just surprised to see me?" said Finan, voice just above a whisper. Your eyes widened at his question, hand coming up to slap his bare arms. He hadn't been this perky in a while, and it shocked you, to say the least. You were happy to see him back to normal. Though he always carried an air of dominance with him, the softer side of him was always welcome.

There was a strange determination in his eyes, as if he had woken up. "Trust me, with you in front of me every day, I could hardly forget what a handsome man looks like." Your emboldened state of mind matched his newfound confidence, and the two of you were back to being the same people that you were when you first met. Finan forgot, just for a second, about the reek of death and its hanging in the air.

Instead, he took you in. Your fresh braids, which he suspected you had done just for him. He felt so warm, even in the bitter winter, and your eyes gazing at him as though he was the kindest man on earth brought him more security than anything else in the world.

His presence alone was enormous. You had to shake your head to remember what you were really here to say to him. He had laughed at your previous remark, taking the confident proudly.

"You look so beautiful, Y/N." he stated fondly, content to spend the rest of the night with you. Your cheeks heated at his words, and you looked away, but not before his strong hands found your chin, raising your face to meet his brown eyes once more. He simply could not wait any longer.

"You always look beautiful, and I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you aren't", he huffed, acknowledging his own mental absence. You felt the tenderness in his touch, against the rough scarring on his hands. You smiled sadly, wishing he didn't have to be treated so roughly. Your softer hands found his, holding them tightly.

"I suppose I sh-" but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a loud crash. You were quick to inspect the commotion, not realising that the two of you were still firmly holding hands. It hadn't occurred to you until his grip tightened, dwarfing your entire hand in his. You couldn't help but smile, especially when you discovered what the scene before you was all about.

Two women were having at it, fighting like animals. These were women you knew, and so you were shocked to see them go at one another, enough even to draw blood. You considered for a moment why two familiar faces would be fighting, but the two had recently mentioned their escapades with Osferth, who was a babbling mess at the scene before him.

Finan cursed. Truly, he couldn't help but laugh. Of course, this stupid baby monk would intervene in some way, he thought to himself. You giggled at Osferth's expression as the women were finally separated by Finan, who begrudgingly let go of your hand. He felt so juvenile, clinging to you like a crush, but he simply couldn't help himself.

"Umm, I thought monks weren't allowed to hump," was all he said, before leaving the poor boy to defend for himself, returning to you. As he walked over, you felt the life reemerge within him. He was smiling so much you almost couldn't take it.

"Now that's a hero," you laughed as he spread his arms out, congratulating himself. You couldn't keep yourself from moving about, however, unable to stay still in his presence. Your mind constantly filtered through possibilities of what he was about to tell you, meanwhile your own looming confession was being stuffed further and further back in your mouth. You weren't entirely sure what he was going to say to you. Perhaps he was going to tell you to stay away from him . . .

Any suspicions of his rejection, however, were entirely forgotten when both of his hands came to cup your face. The act felt so intimate that your legs almost quivered, and you braced yourself to fall over. His head leaned back slightly, and he breathed heavily, taking you in. Finan, filled with confidence, had bee brought to his knees by you. You and your ribbon braids.

"Can we talk somewhere, please. Perhaps when it's a little less busy, lady?" you understood, but couldn't help the frustration that grew within you as your conversation was prolonged yet again. You simply nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough for him, judging by his widening eyes.

"After closing, Finan, come up the stairs, I'll be in my room." You hadn't realised just how suggestive that sounded until Finan's eyes widened even more, and he cocked his head with a cheeky grin, retorting something about you being more forward than ever. You slapped his chest, mocking his childishness, though before you could fully manage to hit him, he grabbed your wrist with ease.

His arm flexed, and he quickly pulled you in, your feet stumbling to keep up with his strength, until you felt his breath on your face, and you were close enough to be touching his lips.

"Quite the invitation, lady," he half joked, but in reality, he as already counting down the hours. "I will be there, Y/N."

After what felt like the longest night in history, the last of the crowd finally retreated from the alehouse. You were itching to see Finan. Since the two of you last spoke, you had barely seen him. Uhtred was shamefully taken home by Sihtric, who you were amazed was sober. The rest of the men and women left together, and you said your final goodbyes, closing the doors. This time, however, you didn't lock them.

You trudged upstairs, tiredness hitting your body. After hours, you finally took a seat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the silly plaits that you had worried so much over. You sensed Finan's presence when there was a slight moan of old wood being pressed as he walked up to meet you. You had so much to say to him you could hardly contain yourself, rising from your sitting position.

Finan gave a polite knock, but didn't bother waiting, bending under the doorframe before returning to his natural state, giving you an incredibly sheepish look. You stuttered slightly, but told him to sit. You quickly realised that a man had never been up to your room. It was spacious enough, with a large bed of furs and enough space for plenty of candlelight.

"Please, sit, Finan." you held your hand out as if to show him the way, guiding yourself to the edge of your bed. Finan let out a small laugh at your sudden formality, bending as if giving you a mocking bow before sitting next to you.

Even though he had been the one to initiate conversation last time, you made it your mission to get there before him, wanting to get your own point across before he said anything to you.

"Finan, I have to tell you," you started, feeling an awful mist of tension heating up your body suddenly, " I just - I hate," you sighed in frustration, groaning as you could hardly get the words out. Finan seemed heavily amused, beckoning you to continue.

"I just really enjoy when you're here." Pathetic. "And I don't like it when you're gone away for weeks. And I worry for you when you're not here, even though I have faith in you."

Once you break the seal, you can hardly stop. Finan takes in every word as though it is gospel, but you hardly notice as you babble on.

"Obviously you're strong, and umm, and handsome, and you speak well enough to get yourself out of trouble,"

"Oh, do keep going, lady. I've never been so flattered." he raised a hand to his chest, feigning shyness. You glared at him, embarrassment curling itself around your neck, blocking any clear thought from entering your head. Finan quickly sensed your frustration, placing a hand on your thigh to steady you.

But that just made it worse.

"And then I think we're good, but you don't speak to me f-for weeks, Finan. And then you touch my thigh like this!" You could almost laugh at yourself, truly, "and I just want you all of the time, and I think we . . . I think we should be together."

With your final declaration out of the way, you feel a fatal sense of worry overcome your body at his shocked face. The hand on your thigh doesn't move, however. It tightens.

"Y/N," he starts, and you brace yourself for the worst, "Please, I want to be with you too. I stayed distant, because, well because I didn't want anything to happen to you. If I am with you, then I'll have something to actually fight for," he looked down as he continued, clearly stressed, "but then if I have something to fight for I'll have something to lose as well."

You began to understand him clearly. With what he had seen, particularly with recent events, there was always a risk involved. Perhaps what made him so good is that everything he previously needed to protect was always on the battlefield with him. The two of you together would be a constant source of worry for him. You could be kidnapped, taken hostage, injured while he was away.

"But, Finan, every time you've left, nothing has happened to me. I'm here, aren't I? Entirely whole."

"But it's different, or, it would be different," he stressed, hands flying up as he spoke.

"The only difference is I'd be yours. And I want to be yours, Finan."

He looked at you then. Really looked at you. His hand ran through his beard, and any semblance of composure that he had snapped when you bit your lip. Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps he was thinking about things too deeply. After all, he was an entirely competent warrior. If anything happened, he would be able to solve it.

He could barely control himself any longer, when your hand came to fiddle with the ribbons weaved into your loosening braids. You had never looked more innocent and enticing - he physically couldn't stand what you were doing to him.

Meanwhile, you took note of his chest heaving, feeling your own heartbeat gain speed. You decided to let even more out, noticing his gaze shifting to your hair.

"I plaited these for you, I thought they would impress you." The sheepish truth had you looking down, realising that the two of you had been stupidly restricting one another whilst simultaneously trying to impress one another in a hideously drawn out back and forth. Sorrows had settled, and now you wanted him. You needed Finan.

"They do impress me, most definitely," he assured you, teasing you slightly with his reaction. He found you utterly adorable, that you had done some little change to please him, "but you already caught my attention without the ribbons, Y/N."

The cross around his neck gleamed as it dangled, moving slightly as he leaned down to meet your face as you sat beneath him on the bed. The tenderness of the moment had been replaced by burning passion.

"Finan, I-"

"Say my name again."

"Finan-" You couldn't even finish before his lips crashed into yours. Everything melted away when you kissed. Every semblance of a problem disappeared, and it was just you and Finan. He revelled in the idea that you were his woman, spoiling himself with the very thought of it.

You, meanwhile, were growing incredibly impatient. The man in front of you was something else, his muscles straining as his hands trailed down to your waist and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his strong waist, arousal beginning to leak from within you as his grip tightened. He couldn't get enough of you, and he never wanted to let you go.

"I hope you know, love, that I'm keeping you forever." He smiled, adjusting you a little so that you felt the bulge of his crotch just underneath your sex, friction causing you to whine slightly. You weren't entirely sure if Finan was aware that you were a virgin, but the feeling of his body against yours prevented you from saying anything.

"Let me hear you." he demanded as he looked up at you, and thought he was still the Finan you knew, an air of seriousness had overcome him, and the words that came from him were dominating. You understood now how he managed to control armies the way he did.

You buried your head between his neck and shoulder, drooling slightly as you let out a moan at Finan's undying strength. With your undergarments pulled to the side by the stretch of his fingers, he made sure to move you up and down ever so slowly, rubbing against his crotch even more until your naked sex could take it no more.

The fabric of his trousers was an obstacle that you needed to be removed as soon as possible. Though the friction created waves of pleasure, the way he was holding you had you panting for more.

"Please, Finan, take them off." you looked into his eyes, which held an amused stare. He took your worn out image in, unable to believe how lucky he was. Any negative thought about the relationship between you two could be dealt with later, right now he had you securely in his arms, entirely fucked out without him even properly touching you yet.

You fastened your legs around his waist, which made him laugh. "You're telling me what to do now, is it?" truthfully, he would let you do or say anything you wanted. He was wrapped around your little fingers, and he knew it well.

"Love, I can't do what you ask if you continue to cling to me like a pup," he wore a toothy grin on his face, amusement growing in time with your own frustration. You loosened your thighs from his hold, and he set you down gently on your own bed. You fidgeted when you realised what would happen once his trousers were off, if you even managed to wait that long.

You watched him undo his breeches, only to around halfway, not even letting them slide down his legs before he came to you again. You leaned your head into his arm, nuzzling instinctively into his hold like some trained animal. You felt you would burst, declaring "I love you," before he could say anything else.

"I love you too, you and your ribbons." he flicked your braid with his finger, drawing you in to a loving kiss. You were slightly stunned at his lack of hesitation, any precaution having been abandoned by him. Finan felt it as well, the swell of pride that filled him as he announced his love for you, not even questioning the words. He knew them to be true, and he knew that with you as his woman, he was entirely complete.

Your next words, however, did catch him off guard.

"I've never been with a man, Finan." you confessed, maintaining eye contact with him as you waited for his reaction, worrying that he would be less eager to bed you with your inexperience. Finan tried to fight the impure thoughts as they wavered in his brain, unable to keep his hands off you as he thought of a way to reassure you without sounding too patronising, as he usually managed.

When he still didn't say anything, it prompted you to finally look away from him, wondering if he really cared about it as much as you thought.

"Hey, where's my lady gone?" he moved to sit beside you, feeling somewhat of a fool that his bulge was straining against the half of his breeches that still hung from his hips, and you with your dress bunched up so high that all he could think about were the stockings slipping down your delicate thighs. You didn't have the faintest idea of the impact you had on him right now.

He wasn't entirely sure how much more restraint he could exercise. "I don't care about that, I want to be the only man that ever gets to touch you from now on, anyway." he buffed his chest to try and make you laugh, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing, too engrossed in lulling over the words he had just uttered.

"I want to be your only woman, Finan." and with that, you kissed him forcefully, adjusting your body so that you could straddle his frame, his heavy arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you further into his kiss. His hands moved down to your ass, squeezing firmly. Your mouth remained open when he allowed them to slip further down your thigh, toying with the hem of one of your stockings. They were cheap things, made for you with the purpose of convenience, and yet he was treating them like they were pure gold.

"I don't think I'll be sharing you with anyone anytime soon, love," he managed to whisper into your ear, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly when he inserted two fingers into you, the promise of 'getting you ready for him' hanging in the air. The feeling was unlike anything you had experience, a welcome intrusion to your core. You felt his fingers curl, pushing up as far as they could go, meanwhile his thumb also occupied a space on your clit, rubbing ever so gently whenever he could to bring you pleasure.

You felt your thigh muscles trembling as you still straddled him on your knees, his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing your neck, creating his own little mark on you. Finan knew he was possessive. He had to remind himself to be gentle with you, however, removing his fingers and inserting them again, wanting to tease you slightly.

You gave a quick tug to his thick hair in retaliation, which he seemed to like as he groaned and leaned back in order to see your face. You couldn't help a satisfied grin, otherwise looking rather empty as you thought of nothing but pleasure.

"Careful there," he said, returning his attention to kissing your neck, marking it with a slight bite. His warm lips on your skin affected you in ways you hadn't thought possible. You wondered why he hadn't put his fingers back inside of you, but you felt him fidget beneath you, until his cock was fully out, brushing back and forth against your sex. The two sensations together, of his lips and his cock, very nearly sent you over the edge embarrassingly soon.

The ghost of pleasure kept pulsating at your core, his hand moving his cock back and forth ever so slowly, sometimes seeming as though he was about to slip in and then releasing altogether from you. You hated it, the absence and the longing, playing tricks with your mind and turning you into some kind of depraved whore.

"Finan, I swear-"

"You swear what, lady?" he taunted you, still not close enough as his arm adjusted its claim around your waist, your breasts squishing into his own chest as you practically kneeled over the top of him, wanting to push him down to finish the job yourself.

"If you don't hump me soon, I will personally ban you from this very alehouse." shocked at your own feistiness, you hadn't imagined Finan to take your word so literally. Before you knew it, your back hit your bed of furs, and Finan now kneeled above you, playing with himself, tugging back and forth, his hard cock so prominent you felt it would break you.

And break you it did. His tip finally breached your walls, before his entire member felt your insides. Your core was so full, so unbelievably full. The pressure seemed to build before he even began to move, and you released several short pants, biting back a moan that he seemed to want to encourage out of you as he moved his hips just slightly, his muscled core meeting your soft, pliable thighs, now up in the air, hanging from his grip.

You were entirely at his mercy, so pliant for him, and so good for him. "I hadn't expected you to listen well, and you proved me right," he started, moving in and out once, so tantalisingly slowly that you felt every curve, vein and pulse going through him, "I told you to be careful, didn't I sweet girl?"

Though he was teasing, he still wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't move until your face lost the scrunch and your eyes opened to look at him, heavy breathing turning into moans as your impatience move.

"Move, Finan." And that was all he needed to hear, moving in and out of you with some force, his hands clamping into the soft flesh of your thighs, still admiring the stockings that you wore, reminding himself to ask you to wear them more often.

Your lips fell open in a gasp when he sped up even more, soft 'good girls' coming from his lips in murmurs. He let go of one of your thighs, letting your leg fall to the bed, while his free hand now moved to your stomach, pressing down on your core and feeling exactly where he was inside of you. He pumped so rhythmically that you began to think you'd truly reached heaven, the additional pressure applied by his strong hands becoming too much for you.

He watched your face, assessing you to ensure you were still comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way. You felt funny, a strange tingling, almost like a warning, reaching your core.

"F-Finan, I think . . ."

He shushed you, understanding what you meant. Who was he to deny such a lovely maiden what she wanted? "Just breathe, Y/N, don't fight it, sweet girl," he guided you, the pressure of his hand increasing. He maintained his pace, feeling your walls tighten and squeeze around him, clamping so hard he struggled to keep up.

"Come on, there we are," he further encouraged, and normally, you'd tell him to shut up, his words embarrassing you slightly, but you were so filled with delicate pleasure that you couldn't risk losing it. The immense pinch in your core finally snapped, and you were coming around him, pumping him for all he was worth as your arousal came to its peak. Your face made him positively weak at the knees.

"There we go," he cooed, his hand coming to your clit to stimulate you more, though you began begging him not to, trying and failing to grab his wrist in the process. You bit your lip instead, eyes all glossy and strained as you looked at your lover as though he was God. Perhaps he was, because no mortal man should have been able to make you feel so good.

"Please come, Finan." you whined sweetly, and he could never deny you as he had done before. He would listen to you if you told him to do anything, let alone come, which he did gladly, pumping you full of his seed, thinking briefly about the pups you could share. The pups that you would share.

His heart pumped ten times as fast as he bred you, vowing to be the only man to touch you ever again. His possessiveness had seemed to grow in the last hour, and he lifted you suddenly onto his lap, caressing the top of your head as you panted in unison.

"We'll speak properly tomorrow," he began, stroking your now undone hair. Your ribbon barely hung on, and you wound it around his fingers, the fabric reminding him of your sweet confession, something that he knew he would tease you about for years to come, but secretly loved, "sleep for now, love."

He stayed awake for most of the night, observing you every now and then, mostly focusing on the sway of the candlelight. He had seen his lord go through so much, and now he had something too precious to lose, he vowed that the same would not happen to him. Even if it cost him his loyalty.