#osferth x female!reader

[arcielee]

Silver Coins

Summary: You are paid to be a pleasure for the baby monk. Paring: Osferth x Female!Reader Word Count: 2374 Warnings: Smutty smut, inexperienced Osferth, oral sex (m and f), p in v. Minors DNI. Author's Note: This is for @eddiemadmunson ♥ I agree there is not enough Osferth fics and there should be more. Here’s just some smutty fluff one shot for your ask. ♥ Also, my Osferth is book canon.  Update: Link for part 2! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy​

Osferth was tall and lean, with an awkward grace to his movement as he sat himself into one of the chairs within your chambers. He kept his feet on the cobblestone and his large palms gripped onto his thighs. 

You thought him to be handsome in a way that was so uniquely his own. What made you agree to this had been when you first saw his eyes. They were a brilliant blue that held no judgment when you spoke to him earlier that night, how they shone with a kindness that you could not recall ever seeing in the gaze of a man before. 

“I am looking to bed one of Uhtred’s men,” your tone was purposefully coy and you relished in the pink that dusted his cheeks.

Oh, the word barely left his bow lips and your touch was gentle to take his hand; his palm was calloused and warm, with long, slender fingers that wrapped around your own in response. He allowed you to pull him away from the crowd, which included the grinning fools that were Sihtric and Finan, and you led him to your room below the tavern.

This was where he now sat, so uncertain as to what to do with his hands. 

You reach for the knot of your wrap dress, removing the layer to reveal a satin chemise you wore beneath. It was soft and fell to your curves, your nipples pebble beneath from the cool air.

His eyes are wide at the sight of you, his pupils swallowing the beautiful blue and his tongue wet his lips. “My lady,” his voice almost a whisper, “I must admit to you, I have not bed a woman before.” 

You were already aware of this, but chose to tease him, moving closer towards him. “Are you not the same man who slain Sigefrid?”

He nods with the tousle of his dirty blonde hair, his gaze shyly cast downwards. 

You are now in front of him, your finger curling beneath his chin to bring his eyes to meet with your own. “Well, I admit that I have never killed a man before, so may I suggest a fair trade,” you continue with a smile. “You can share with me how you killed Sigefried and I will share with you the secrets of my trade.” 

You lean closer and his exhale fans your cheeks, his eyes still wide as he processes your words. “But, my lord, I insist you remove your boots first.”

“Yes, my apologies,” he stammers and you step back with your smile, watching as he is quick to unlace and remove them. His long legs brought him across to place them by the door, then turning to face you again.

Your smile renews at the sight of his bare feet, pale against the grey cobblestone, and you move towards him. He is watchful of how the satin breathes against your curves with your every step closer until you can place your hands, gentle to the touch, on his chest. His breath draws as you come up to your toes and press your lips against his own. 

Osferth seems to balk against your mouth, his lips pressing together and stilting in response, his arms stiff at his sides.  

You pull back, your brow quirks as you see his blue eyes still wide and nervous. “Osferth,” you honey your tone, a gentle smile to your lips. You reach to touch his hands and they relax against your own, following your pull to rest them against the small of your waist. “Do not think, just kiss me.” 

His gaze falls to your mouth and he tilts his head, his lips soft and warm against your own. Your mouth opens slightly, your tongue touching his bottom lip and you can feel him smile. His hands grow bold, pulling you closer against his chest, meeting with the tempo you set. You open your mouth more to deepen the kiss, his tongue following the languid pacing of your own; you nip at his bottom lip and he groans in your mouth.

The sound melts you against his hard chest, enjoying as his large palms trace the curves of your hips and cradle the small of your back. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers move to comb through his golden locks. 

He steps and turns you to press your backside against the door, pressing against you and a moan spills from your kiss-swollen lips when you feel his hard length push against your stomach. 

“Osferth,” you whisper and he looks pained as you pull away, until you reach for the belt knotted around his slender waist that holds his albe in place. He helps remove the layers until he is bare waist up, his muscles taut and there is a patch of hair across his chest. 

Your eyes admire the planes of his abdomen and the lines that dip below where his trousers hung. Your mouth waters at the bold outline of his crotch against the fabric. 

Baby monk, you think, incredulous, to yourself and you reach to slip your fingers in the waist and pull him to the bed edge. Your fingers work to unlace and his trousers puddle at his feet; he steps out and backwards until he touches the bed and sits down, watchful and waiting for your lead.

The sight of him bare leaves you almost timid, there is a growing anticipation combined with the warmth wet from his kisses, his touch, between your thighs. You exhale slowly through your open lips, stepping forward and kneeling before him.

He is resting on his elbows, unaware of your slight trepidation to his size, his gaze curious as your hand reaches to curl around his member. A blush returns to his cheeks, the rose color matching his tip and your thumbs wipes the bead of precum, rubbing beneath which elicits a groan that rumbles from the back of his throat. 

Embolden, you move to bring your tongue flat to the underside and follow until your lips wrap around the head, your tongue tasting the hint of him. He groans again when your head begins to move in tandem with your hand, up and down his length to coat him with your saliva.  

You pull back and he watches as you lift your chemise over your head to bare yourself, his jaw slightly slack as his eyes drink in your figure. Your cheeks grow warm with the adoration of his gaze, stepping closer to straddle him and he sighs sweetly with your warmth pressing against his cock. 

He groans when you slowly rock your hips, your silken folds smooth with your spit, sliding the length of his member before your hand reaches to line him with your entrance. 

You are slow to lower yourself, in part to savor the delicious stretch as he fills you, another to try and adjust to his size. Your nails bite into his shoulders and his arms are gentle when they wrap the small of your waist, pulling you flush against him, his chest hair tickling your breasts, and he buries his face into your neck. You gasp when his tongue tastes you, clenching in response, and he groans louder.

“I need but a moment,” your voice is small with the confession.

“My lady, take as long as you need,” he breathes into your neck and your skin rises from the touch of his lips. “We may stay like this all night, if it pleases you.” 

You pull back to look into his eyes, how they shine with an earnestness, and you find his mouth, your kiss slow and searching. He sighs and you begin again to rock your hips into him; you can feel his hold relax, the warmth of his palms as they settle onto your hips and pull you against him.

The motion allows him to reach deep within you. You rest your palms onto his chest and push him to lay back on the bed, your hands bracing as you quicken your rhythm. A soft moan spills from your lips and another groan escapes the back of his throat when your cunt begins to flutter around him. 

You slow your pace, wet lewd noises filling the intimate space. “Please,” he begs. “Show me how to touch you.” 

He bites his bottom lip when you take his hand, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He sighs again when your tongue curls the digit, enclosing your lips around and then pulling it back, a line of spittle from your mouth that breaks and falls to your chin. You lower his palm to fit against the inside of your thigh, pressing his thumb into the bloom above where his cock continues the pace, in and out. 

Your moan starts soft. “It’s…it is that, can you feel…” your voice mewls with his guided touch. 

“I, yes,” there is a sheen of sweat to his features, his focus drawn and torn between admiring the curves of your movement and where his hand now rests. “Right…here?” 

His touch coils the passion in your lower abdomen. “Yes,” your cries wanton and it gives him a confidence to his touch, also quickening his upwards thrusts to meet with your motion. Stars dance in front of your eyes and he moans as your climax rolls in waves, clenching at him for his own release. 

“Oh, God,” he cries out and you feel him pulsating within your velvet walls with his own peak. 

You fall and curl against him, he brings you to the side and waits until your heart rate settles. He is reluctant to let you go, but you give him a kiss, moving to the basin and pouring from the pitcher, grabbing a cloth to wet and wring. You clean yourself before grabbing another, returning to him. “It will be cool,” you warn, your touch gentle. 

Osferth hums his pleasure, “Allow me to stay and we can warm beneath the furs.”

“That was my plan already, lord,” you reply and he smiles with your words.

Curled beneath the furs, he is on his side with one arm holding his head up and his other palm resting beneath your breasts, his eyes watching them rise and fall with your steady breaths. He shares the truth of Sigefried, how he climbed the wall while the men fought, and confronted the Dane and plunged his dagger into his stomach. 

“Were you frightened?” You shiver with your question, turning your head to look at him.

He smiles and you see his cheeks line with dimples. “I admit, in the moment, I did not have the time to dwell on fear, but I can recall that my hands were shaking.” 

You touch his hand, yours so small in comparison to his own. “You did what was needed,” you say and bring his fingertips to your lips.

He leans forward to find your lips once again, another sweet kiss. “Would you allow me…” his voice trails off, a blush to his features as he hems for the words that will allow his hand to move lower. 

You touch his cheek to hold his gaze. “Osferth, I am yours tonight.”

There is the added sweetness of your expressed consent, his willingness to listen to your soft hums of guidance as he nestles between your thighs. His lips are so soft, his breath warm on your cunt, and he is quick to understand and match his ministrations with your soft sighs. The curl of his finger within you was sinful, that begins as a gentle prod until you mewl his name and he continues without complaint until he feels you clenching your release. 

The morning comes too soon and you begrudgingly leave the monk, who is sound asleep on his stomach and bare next to you. You dress quickly, fasten your cloak and your fingers check the pocket’s contents before you come to the bedside with a gentle kiss to wake him. 

His brow quirks when he realizes you are already dressed. “Where are you going?” His voice husky with sleep. 

“I am going to the kitchens to have something prepared for you,” you kiss him again and he hums at your touch. “Dress and come meet me upstairs?” 

He nods sleepily and you move to leave, your cloak billows with your steps as you walk the corridor and take the stairs up, two steps at a time.

The tavern is empty and smells of spilt ale from the night before, mixed with the spices that waft from the kitchen. You fill two plates and return to place them on an empty table, when the door opens and the silhouettes of Finan and Sihtric fill the door frame. 

“We’re closed,” you call to them, a smile to your lips. You move towards them, reaching into your pocket and tossing the felt pouch that hits Finan’s chest. 

His brow furrows but he catches it, the soft jingle of the coins it held. “This silver was for you to bed the baby monk,” he says. 

“Yes,” you reply, your eyes narrowing onto him. “I am returning it to you, no coin spent.” 

Before another word can be said, his dark eyes look past you and you turn to see Osferth surfacing. His hands pat his locks down, a smile on his face when he catches sight of you. 

You move towards him, leaving the Irishman and the Dane, and move to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to your own one last time. 

He responds without the embarrassment from last night, softening against your touch and you smile when you pull back. “Do you have time for break fast?” 

There is a beat of silence, with Osferth blushing from your affection and Sihtric dumbstruck, before Finan finally speaks. “Afraid not, missus. Lord Uhtred requires us to ride out. We have much to discuss today,” he moves forward to clasp a hand on Osferth’s shoulder, pulling him towards the door. 

You sit down on the bench, picking at one of the plates and watch them tuck the monk between, grinning fools and arms draped around his shoulders, pushing through the door and into the morning light. 

arcie’s masterlist

[jacevelaryonswife]

After Dark | Part One

He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.

pairing: female stripper!reader x modern!osferth | some moments of finan and sihtric.

warnings: smut, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving). English is NOT my first language. 4,1k of words.

after dark masterlist

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A black cape and a crown-like prop was all that could be seen of the woman on stage, making Osferth even more anxious for whatever happened next.

He was a virgin in this, in this kind of environment. Throughout his life the thought of being in a den of carnality was never considered, his religiosity more fervent than most of the people with whom he lived acted as a wall to avoid such a path, however, there was no guilt or shame in his chest at that moment, just a natural embarrassment to be exposed to such a scope. He was a good boy, very polite, humorous, witty and with good social skills, but when it came to going further with girls the scenario was different, scarier, shy and sloppy.

His first time was with a girl in college. She was sweet enough to guide the rhythm, they all guided the rhythm with him — which Osferth found very satisfying. He learned that he liked the lady in control, showing how, when and where he should touch her. In addition, his position was easier than taking control and having to concentrate so as not to end up too fast. He was a shrewd little shit in the end.

But none of that crossed his mind, not when all the lights went out again and an engaging melody echoed through the club making him mortally anxious and excited.

And then, exactly at the same time that the warm orange tone set fire to the stage and a male voice accompanied the instrumental, you were in full display to the audience with a wild posture. The cover that hid your body focused on the floor to reveal the simple black lingerie with props decorating both arms and a large yellow snake wrapped from his neck to his waist. You were absolutely stunning and sensual, especially when your hips began to move at a slow and seductive pace, almost graceful if you were not wanton, totally capturing his attention.

Watching her strolling in the night so white, wondering: Why It's only after dark?

Your eyes closed to sink in the music as you moved your body gently, handling the snake with a frightening naturalness even with the animal curling around your body. What if it suffocated you? Osferth thought dissuaded.

“Aye, mate, she seems to deal with snakes a lot,” Finan whispered without taking his eyes off the image of the woman ahead.

In her eyes, a distant fire lights, burns bright, wondering: Why it's only after dark?

And then when your eyes opened Osferth could swear that your irises were on fire, leaving your aura even more overwhelming than possible. You were not entangled in any poledance, which made your eyes travel along the audience with greater ease and stop in the direction of his. No, don't be stupid, she didn't look at me.

But he wanted it to be true. He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.

Find myself in her room, feel the fever of my doom. Falling falling throught the floor, I'm mocking on the devils door.

And maybe Osferth's perception was right. Maybe you were really contemplating the young lamb ahead as a hungry louse, but that wasn’t an ordinary look, no, he felt almost invaded in his intimate space, as if you knew what he was thinking as you moved as gracefully as petals in contact with the wind. Not even when the other dancers collected the snake from your shoulders did the weight of your gaze soften, no, quite the contrary, your attention was clearly fixed on the central figure in front of the stage as you slowly floated on your bare feet.

Oh God, it couldn't be real.

Were you really coming towards him?"

In the dawn I wake up to find her gone, and a note, says: “Only after dark”.

Yes, you- No, I wasn't.

Moving a few centimeters to where Sihtric was, you went on to face him, dangerously approaching the threshold of the stage to caress him with your foot along his chest, abdomen and very close to his groin. "Can I, handsome?" You asked after stopping your movements and retreating your foot until you gently touched the base of the beer glass in front of it, receiving a positive nod. “Take it for me,” your order was firm and a little smooth. "Open your mouth."

After a few seconds, a feline and satisfied smile adorned your beautiful face when the Dane leaned over to receive the beer falling on a thread in his mouth, having his hair caressed during the process. “Such a good boy,” you praised him by handing him the glass to turn your attention to the young man next door.

Osferth's eyes sparkled when you stopped in front of him and moved your hips as you went down until your faces were level, leaving him redder than a ripe cherry. Your presence made his breathing fail and emitted enough heat to warm him on a harsh winter day, your firm and sweetnessous voice throwing a warm cloud towards him.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

"Thank you ma'am," he replied so quickly that he didn't realize the formal term. He's niver seen a woman like you before.

"Not so old yet, dear," you sent him the sexiest smile he ever received, apparently having fun with how disconcerted he seemed.

“He's just shy, sunshine,” Finan said with his accent thicker than usual.

Your attention was divided between the two men, looking at the Irishman while holding Osferth's chin with your warm touch. "Is he? I love shy little things," the savagery shone in your eyes, "especially when they are as handsome and blushing as you." You approached his face until your noses were touching.

His heart beat faster than a deer cornered by hunters and he was sure that if your lips kept shaving against his it would be even more difficult to hide the bulge between his pants. Maybe you had already noticed giving the open smile as you picked up the ballots that were thrown in your direction, getting up and walking to the central poledance. You took the prop off your head and threw it at the audience to the delight of them. Osferth was too static for his reflection to be fast enough to reach the object, luckily Finan was faster than the others and handed him over.

"Keep it."

Burning, burning in the flame, now I know her secret name. You can tear her temple down, but she'll be back and rule again.

Your movements were mesmerizing and precise, lavishing flexibility and sensuality to get him on his knees. When your feet touched the floor, you slowly sent your hands to your back towards the closure of the bra, looking at the audience that began to encourage your next act. He wasn't prepared for that. Especially when you looked at him and shook your head negatively. Several men howled asking to see your body, screaming, begging, making your laugh with malice and a hint of cruelty, denying them again

In my heart, a deep and dark lonely part wants her and waits for after dark.

Osferth realized that he wanted to feel the touch on his skin again, no, he needed to feel it.

After dark

He wanted your savage look only in his direction.

After dark

He wanted the overwhelming aura cornering him again.

After dark

He wanted everything.

God, he was lost.

“That's what I call a fucking show!” Finan's scream burst the bubble of lust that enveloped him, reminding him to breathe again.

Osferth never wanted so much to be subdued by a lady before. But unfortunately he was not the only one with the same thought and worried him even more when thousands of ballots were thrown in his direction.

“She's mine,” said a guy behind him.

"Not fucking. Leave that to me,” Finan said as he got up abruptly from his chair, going somewhere inside the club.

His mind was too stunned to reason what had just happened clearly, but he was warm and excited and it didn't matter if you slept with him just for the money, he wanted to have the damn experience. Fortunately Sihtric kept silent for a long time before asking Osferth what he had found, receiving a simple "It was good" from the blonde.

“I see,” the Dane laughed.

Of course he saw it, which in itself made him want to succumb.

“Where did Finan go?” He asked.

“Probably looking for your birthday present,” he replied bluntly, sending a very significant look.

What?

“What?” The youngest asked with wide eyes. Was he serious?

"Your birthday present," Sihtric repeated again, "You don't have to be nervous, she'll know what to do but I imagine it won't be cheap."

It wasn't a problem (depending on how much you were going to charge).

"What if she doesn't want to?" The question was genuine.

He took a long sip of what was left of his beer. “She is a stripper, wins who pays better and maybe someone pays better than Finan. I'm sorry for that."

Would you reject him? Yes, you could... but he wished so much that he didn't. It was anxious minutes waiting for the Irishman, his hands were sweating when he noticed other men going the same way as his friend went, however, only one of them came back faster than a man having his first time and made Osferth's heart accelerate.

“Come with me, quickly,” Finan almost dragged him from the chair down the same corridor. "They have rooms here, which turns out to be more expensive than the girl going to your house, but she was very clear about not going to cleintes' houses, ya see? Now, don't ask questions and enjoy the evening."

It was a lot to deal with in such a short time, but Osferth shook his head and asked:

“How much was it?"

"Don’t worry about it, she was very generous with ya."

"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed.

"She's a premium girl and doesn't accept anyone. Logically, someone with our cash condition wouldn't handle it, but she liked ya. I'll still have to pay because of the percentage of the bosses, but it's much less than the whole amount," he explained as fast as he can given the proximity to the room, putting some packages of condoms in his pocket. “Now, go get her tiger. And I'll keep her crown,” he took the prop from the youngest's hands.

Being dropped in front of the door, Osferth took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall, arranging his hair and clothes before depositing fearful knocks against the door. Sweat accumulated in his hands and he wiping them on the side of his pants, taking a deep breath when his sweet permission filled his ears. The vision that presented you as soon as you entered the dark room with neon lights was of you sitting on the edge of the bed with a suggestive smile.

“Hi, sweet boy. Lock the door and come to me."

He almost cred towards you, stopping a few centimeters ago when you got up and stroked his cheek. "What's your name?"

His voice was flawed and nervous when answering: "It's Osferth, lady."

“Osferth. What a beautiful name,” you hummed. "What do you want me to do it?"

Everything. He wanted everything.

“I...” his neck warmed up when he tried to express what he would like to happen. His gaze fell on his feet in shame, unable to face yours for a long time. "I… I want you."

"Do you want me? How?” Your question was calm, with no intention of scaring you. “Physically? A conversation?”

“Physically.”

“Do you want me to take control, dear?"

Yes, for God's sake, yes.

“Yes, yes. I want it, please,” he begged with puppy eyes and a lovely pout.

A bright and satisfied smile shone in your features as you leaned against his lips.

“Okay sweetie, just relax, I’ll take care of you,” your hand circled the back of his neck while the other held the other side of his neck, starting a slow kiss that made his skin warm up.

His hands were surprisingly fast in wrapping your body and breaking any minimum existing distance, delighting in the radiated heat and the sensual way that your lips moved, your tongue asking for access to experience it calmly, but firmly, causing him a low moan when your fingers pulled some of the delicate threads from the nape of the neck. "Such a beautiful boy. I want to hear more where this sound came from."

Your lips connected again in a moist and sensual web that dissipated part of his apprehension. Osferth didn’t want to have sex with you because of Finan or any factor that could be associated, he wanted you because his desire consumed him with a burning and unknown urgency. He wanted you even more when your bold fingers climbed inside the shirt to throw it somewhere on the floor, caressing the milky skin with the tip of your nails and marking it with wet kisses along the jaw and neck.

Would people know what happened when they saw your claim about him? Finan and Sihtric for sure yes and he couldn't even care about the provocations he would hear.

Osferth returned to reality when your caresses stopped and your body went back to bed. "Take off your clothes for me, honey."

His neck warmed up again and he realized that you liked it a lot when he acted like a helpless sheep. He had a nice body, but it probably wasn't the coolest you've ever seen — he tought, made him even more shy.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of pretty boy, you're really good looking. Come here.”

He was sure from there that you were bewitching him like a succubus ready to devour him body and soul. There was no fear in the way he discarded his shoes and pants and went to meet him with the condom between his fingers.

"Good boy," you purred, pulling him into a demanding kiss as you sat on his lap, grinding in his bulge.

Holy J- you were a fucking provocation. His hands circled your waist and back, unconsciously (or consciously?) Encouraging your lascivious movements that made him grunt softly. “So precious, like a little lamb,” your hands pushed him lying against the mattress, kissing him sensually. Feeling bold and extremely aroused, Osferth requested access to your mouth with his tongue, gently leaning against you and moaning when you gently sucked the tip of his tongue. Your taste was citrus with a pinch of adocity and an alcoholic background, like a tropical drink. Your lips ran through the jaw, neck and velvety torso, leaving a moist trail of lust.

For a moment, when you pulled his underwear down with your teeth, he forgot to breathe properly.

“Has any girl go down on you before?” Your question brought him back to reality for a short time.

"N-no."

"Shame on them," licking your hand, you grabbed the base of his cock and masturbated him slowly. "You have such a beautiful cock." Oh heaven. Your hand was working so well, much better than any time he touched himself. "You want me to use my mouth, my sweet Osferth."

“Yes please, please.”

"Good boy."

Even absorbed, Osferth caught it when you took the condom and wrapped it in the length of it, lowering it with a smile on your face to grab it like a popsicle. He moaned loudly and held your hair instinctively but without pulling. It was almost heavenly to have your mouth taking him in such a provocative and wanton way, so intense that he almost came when you moved the velvety balls.

Your provocation continued by concentrating your tongue on the coated tip that leaked pre cum, involving the bulbous part and sucking while moving the length with your hand. He was sure he went closest to the sky and came back when your warm mouth took him deep and vibrated around him, making him hold your hair more firmly. “Don't. Wait. I'm gonna-“

"You have an hour with me, dear, do you think you can give me more than one?" Your question was tempting, especially with the malice in your beautiful face and the continuous movement of your hand. "I'd love to feel you inside me."

Oh fuck, that immediately sent him to an intense peak and faster than he planned, but so overwhelming and hot that his legs burned. How sinful of him was to associate what you did with something heavenly, when in fact it was a blasphemy to the sacred. His body was red and a little sweaty, strong breathing and terribly satisfied. No other good girl has brought him such euphoria before.

No good girl removed the used condom and pumped it with ypur expenses on the summit of pleasure.

You certainly weren't a good girl.

"Did you like it?" Your question came after a while, lying next to him and gently caressing the contour of his chest.

“A lot. I've never... never been so good."

Your eyes sweetened as you contemplated his figure, receiving a satisfied smile in response.

"You're so sweet." You leaned over to chastely kiss his lips. "Any girl would be lucky to have someone like you."

His cheeks blushed and he looked away in shyness. You were being so nice. Maybe that's why he didn't calculate his next words. "Why are you here?" Oh no, idiot, why would I ask something like that? Your regret was almost instantaneous. "You don't have to answer, I'm sorry, it was an intimate question, I'm sorry."

"No problem, it's not a tragic story or something," you laughed softly. "I needed money and I needed it fast. It's not as terrible as it seems, I usually don't need to fuck with customers to pay the bills and the dance is enough, but little things like you that can't be ignored, so I had to make exceptions. And you, why are you here?"

"I... it was my friend's idea, Finan. A bet actually I lost. I didn't imagine this would happen," he said meekly, heart warming with his revelation. "Don't you usually do that?" He asked. "That," he emphasized.

“No. Most customers are not attractive and I’m a demanding girl," you purred and leaned against his chest, smoothing his beautiful angular face. "And you're handsome."

"You’re very beautiful too," he smoothed your back and gave a chaste kiss on your forehead, which made you chuckle on his skin.

And then, against his will, you walked away and knelt on the bed, removing your bra to reveal your beautiful tits and massage them dramatically.

“Mm, I'd love to have your big hands on me. Do you want to touch me?"

Fuckin hell.

He almost jumped on the mattress to reach you, covering your soft breasts completely with both hands, squeezing, playing, experimenting, enjoying...

“You're so gorgeous,” he was practically drooling over your appearance. “Damn it.”

“Mmm,” you smoothed the soft and milky chest in front of you, delighting in the touch that was replaced by his mouth after begging you (unnecessarily) from the puppy's eyes to smear your skin.

Osferth delighted in her soft breasts, sucking and licking the halo with desire, vigor and tenderness, nibbling on the protruding and newly hardened beak, which made your eyes close with pleasure. You bit your lower lip and straightened his hair, letting him take his time in the insatiable desire for you. From the smeared breasts he climbed to capture your lips with fire and lust, exploring your mouth with vigor, sucking your tongue as he has never done with any girl before. He kissed your jaw, your neck and your stomach when you lay on the bed, stopping at the panty line.

“Can I take it off?” He asked quietly.

“Of course you can.”

If he wasn’t hard as stone before, your wet intimacy certainly did.

“Do you know where women like to be touched?” You asked sweetly.

“Yes.” He pressed his thumb on your pearl, “here, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, yes, but it’s not like that,” you held his finger and created circular movements with the ideal pressure on your clit, “it’s like that.”

Your hand went to his hardened cock, making him moan. “Such a beautiful cock,” you licked your lips, “get another condom.” And he was very quick to follow your order, giving a tasty view of his cute white ass.

A small strip of shyness enveloped him by placing the condom on his axis in front of you, but he cled back and hovered above your body.

“Do you want to take control?” You asked.

“No. I don’t want to,” he held your back and ass between the bed and turned your body over his, being caged by your thighs and arms.

“Good. I’ll treat you very well, good boy.”

He didn’t gasp so hard when your hands held him in relation to the first time, but when you sank into him slowly... oh boy, all the air in your lungs is gone. He was sure he had reached the apex of pleasure.

Eyes closed, mouth between open and red skin, a true vision for you.

“Let me take a time,” your voice was soft as you went down totally, moaning in unison. “Damn, you’re a big boy. I love that.”

Damn it. The slow pace of the warm hug made him whimper in drunkenness, holding your hips tightly and raising his legs, which tilted your body forward. Leaning your hands against his chest you started to assemble it properly, moaning well and enjoying the moment.

On the other hand, he, the lad was vocal and quite interactive by the way his hips hit a few times against your own, wanting more, needing more.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes,” he said between one moan and another, blond hair sticking to his forehead by sweat.

“Okay,” you bit your lower lip, riding it stronger and faster, sending it to a cloud of lust that consumed you with every movement.

The whole situation contributed to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed his body. Be it the snap between the hips that filled the room, or the delicious sounds you made and especially the wet grip of your femininity against him.

“Move your hips too dear, give me that, I know you want it.”

And he wanted it, oh how he wanted it.

Osferth accepted your request and standardized your movements, hitting harder against your pussy (still very kind) that he had already used on a girl before, muttering a bad word the heat of the moment as he did a few times in his life. But fuck it, fuck it, he needed it.

You jumped uninhibitedly and maliciously in search of the apex, moaning his name as his grip began to increase, his cock brushing in all the right places at a delicious rhythm that was almost blowing his mind. Your wet pussy was soozing the inside of your thighs and the base of his cock, increasing the wet and profane sounds.

“You’re so fucking big, I feel so full. I’m going to cum so well on your cock,” your dirty talk almost made you come with tense hips, moaning loudly, which you noticed immediately, touching your clit while the tension in your core increased from the constant friction. “Hed a little longer, dear, I’m close.”

The weight on his balls was too much, he felt that he would really explode when he came, concentrating as much as he can for it to happen after you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. That was so hard.

“Osferth, oh honey,” you squeezed him violently and his movements faltered when a hot and white wave crashed into your body and dragged you to the apex of pleasure. “Fuck.”

Fuck.

His hips crashed into yours for the last time right after your orgasm, filling the condom when cumming good and strong. It was totally heavenly.

He was floating in a cloud that erased all his thoughts except that moment.

You got up carefully and fell against his chest, lying next to him with a satisfied smile. “Did you like it, dear?”

He was panting and with a silly and wide smile, hugging you gently. “So much... so damn much.”

“Good. Get some rest, I want to make good use of the time we still have.”

═════════════════════

note: Sorry for the delay in publishing the chapter, the last few weeks have been terrible and stressful because of the finals.

— taglist: @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @tssf-imagines @bel-bottoms

[helaelaemond]

To See God

Pairing: Osferth x female reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: You met Osferth in the tavern last night and eventually he took you to his room. He didn't kiss you, he barely touched you, but he looked at you all night like he never wanted anybody more. You wake up in his bed to find him watching you between turning pages of his book. You need him to give in to his desires - and he does. Look up Song of Solomon 7:1-2, 6-12 for the translation of what Osferth is seducing you with in Latin. Cunnilingus, penetrative sex.

Content warning(s): erotic Bible study, first time together, misuse of the Song of Solomon

Rating: E

Requests open

Thank you @arcielee for your help with Osferth <3

The sun is coming through the window in a dreamy haze, and you slowly feel yourself returning from sleep. Under your head is a soft feather pillow, and over your body are warm blankets of wool and fur. It's a strange bed that you've not been in before, and it takes a moment for you to remember where you are.

"Good morning, my lady."

In front of the window, your new friend sits with a book in his lap, and a gentle smile on his face.

"You need not call me that, Osferth," you say sleepily, rubbing your eyes. "I am no lady."

"You are a fine lady to me." He turns the page of his book, and bites his lip as he smiles at you. There is that look in his eye that was there last night - like he wants to see you, to touch you. And God knows you want to touch him. When you had tried to push his leather tunic off last night, he had stopped you with such a pained expression that you wanted to run and hide - until he told you that he wanted to, but that he shouldn't. That he should like to know you better.

And so you stayed up talking long into the night. You lay down by his side and he allowed you to gently touch his face. He had closed his eyes when you did. He told you his name, his father's name, his life as a king's bastard. A no one, he said, until he came to Uhtred's service. You told him of your life, of the loss of your land and your search for a new home in a new place, and he had listened. He had really listened. That had meant more than any kiss.

But now you have woken with a hunger. There is heat between your legs just from the way he's looking at you.

"What are you reading?" you ask. You nestle down into the warm bed and watch how his long fingers run along the edge of it.

"Quid videbis in Sulamiten nisi choros castrorum quam pulchri sunt gressus tui in calciamentis filia principis iunctura feminum tuorum sicut monilia quae fabricata sunt manu artificis." His voice is warm and soft, just like his bed. You don't understand many words at all, but the tempo of the Latin is familiar to you. You notice his cheeks begin to flush as he reads. "Duo ubera tua sicut duo hinuli gemelli capreae."

"What does it mean?" you ask.

"It's, er..." He trails off, and he grips the book so hard his knuckles turn white. "It's from the Song of Solomon."

"I don't know that part of the Bible very well," you admit. "Will you show me?"

Osferth hesitates, as if held back by a great secret that he cannot bear to face, but then he smiles and gets up. He sits on the bed next to you, and puts the book between you. The words mean nothing to you on the page - no one in your family could read, and you can't. Still. It looks pretty, and you run your finger down the lines that are a mystery to you. "Read some more for me?"

"Perhaps something else, my-"

"I like the sound of this, Osferth."

There is something very satisfying in the way his face softens when you say his name. He nods. "Alright. Ah, where was I? Quam pulchra es et quam decora carissima in deliciis."

"In deliciis," you repeat slowly, smiling. "Delicious?"

He chuckles. "Almost. Delights."

"Oh, you're reading about delights? What kind of delights?"

He shifts slightly, and glances at you. You smile encouragingly. You move closer to him and run your hand further down the page until it rests next to his. If you concentrate, you can feel the heat rolling off his hand, and you can almost imagine what it's like to touch his skin. It makes breathing a little more difficult.

"About delights of... of a... oh, I shouldn't be reading this."

"Why not? Is it not part of the Holy Book?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then is it not divine, what you speak of?"

He smiles and looks down. His hand moves up the edge of the book slightly, and the tip of his forefinger touches yours. It is the smallest touch, yet suddenly it feels like the centre of everything. The whole world exists where your hand touches his.

"Yes," he breathes. His smile is frozen, and the rest of him seems to be, too. "I suppose it is."

"Osferth."

"My lady?"

"What does it mean?"

The breath he lets out is shaky. He turns his head to look at you, and you're all too aware of how close you are now. You want him so badly you could weep. He is so gentle, so sweet, and behind his soft gaze is a passion that you can see burn in him. He bites his lip, and his eyes drop to your mouth. "How fair and pleasant art thou, o love, for delights."

Hesitantly, he moves his finger over yours, and then his hand covers yours and turns it over. With such a delicate touch, he strokes gentle patterns onto your palm, and it's almost impossible to think of anything else. You scarcely recall how to breathe. "Is the writer talking of the Lord?"

Osferth tilts his head slightly and leans closer. You can taste his breath on your lips, you can feel the warmth of his body in what little distance remains between you. "No," he murmurs. "Of his lover."

"I didn't know they talked about that in the Bible." Your eyes close. Fire has ripped through you. You burn for him, for him, for him.

"I think it's in a woman that man can see the true face of God."

"You believe women hold that power?" You curl your fingers around his, and when he intertwines them, a soft sigh escapes you.

"I think you might, my lady."

His name is a prayer on your lips. "Osferth."

The first kiss he leaves on your skin is against your cheek. His lips are warm, gentle, undemanding. You have been kissed on the cheek before, but it never felt like this. Your head drops to the side in a silent invitation and it is one that he takes. He moves his mouth along your jaw, finding its place on your neck, and he lets go of your hand only to sweep your hair from your shoulder. When his kisses trail up to your ear, you let out a soft sigh again.

"My lady," he breathes against it. "I... don't know how to ask..."

You turn your head and open your eyes just enough to see him. Pretty is his face, shining are his eyes. You are so close that you can see every little freckle, every long eyelash; how wonderful he is to behold. And he is practically begging. "Just say the words."

"My lady, might we... can we...?"

"Say it. Please?"

Another kiss is pressed to your cheek and this time you can feel the way he smiles, and he asks quietly, "can we be together?"

There are barely enough wits left to you to tease him, but you try. "Are we not together now?"

He chuckles lowly. "I want to share... I want to worship you with my body, my lady."

A noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh escapes you, and you turn your head blindly in search for him. After what feels like a lifetime, he grants you his kiss on your lips; the world ceases to exist.

It is all you have been yearning for, this kiss from Osferth. His thin lips press against yours and he parts them, gently slipping his tongue against yours. The hand on your shoulder slips down to your waist, and you run your fingers along his sharp jaw. He shifts closer at your touch, and the kiss deepens. Quiet noises sound in the back of his throat, indications of his scarcely-held back need. When you pull his lower lip between yours and suck for a moment, his fingers dig into your waist.

Between you, the Bible is almost knocked to the floor and he starts. Abruptly, he pulls away and grabs it before it can fall from the bed, and he takes it carefully into his hands. "One moment."

You watch as he walks with it back to his window seat, and it makes you smile to see the care with which he rests it on the bench. There is a reverence in everything that he does. Even when he looks back at you with wanton need, there is a devotion in his face. It makes you blush; it makes you feel your heartbeat between your legs.

"Wait," you say quietly when he steps towards you again. His brow furrows in slight confusion, but you smile reassuringly. "It's alright. Just... wait."

You are still in your clothes from last night: a simple linen dress, copper in colour underneath a grey cover. Loose ties hold them closed - until suddenly they don't. Kneeling on Osferth's bed, you loosen the garments and one by one, you take them off, until you are bare in the morning light.

He looks at you like a man at prayer, full of wonder and awe. "I... you... oh, my-"

"Osferth," you soothe softly. "I would see you. Please?"

There is only a moment's hesitation before he follows your lead. You watch with tension in your belly as he pulls off his long wool habit, and it's just a linen shift beneath. There are hints of his lean body beneath, but when he removes that, too, you realise how little your imagination could do him justice.

Years with the great Uhtred have hardened his lithe body, and though his skin is pale, his muscles are defined, and you can see the shadows they cast across his skin. He stands a little self-consciously for a moment, hands clasped in front of him, but then you hold out your own hand in a silent call, and he comes with a smile. He holds your hand and you admire him for a moment, from his deep eyes to his half-hard cock that presses against his thigh, to the thick hair on his head.

"You're beautiful," you whisper. That makes him blush deeper than anything else before.

"I am nothing compared to you."

"No," you reply. You pull him closer, and he stands in front of the bed where you kneel. It almost makes you the same height as him like this. "There is no need for comparison, Osferth. You are beautiful."

For a moment, he hesitates. But then his face breaks into a smile wider than any he's shown you before. "I meant what I said, my lady. I would... I would worship you, if you allow it."

You look him in the eye as you take his hand and you press it between your legs. His eyes darken when he feels how wet and warm you are. "Allow it?" you echo quietly. "Osferth, feel how desperately I need you. It is not a question of allowing."

After you let go of his hand, his fingers slowly caress your folds, gently pressing just enough to make your thighs tense slightly. "Is it a question of anything?"

You swallow and shake your head. "There is no question at all. I need you. Please."

That is the final drop that makes the dam break. Whatever resolve in him was left to be slow and steady is lost, and suddenly his kiss is deep. His mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that is possessive, adoring, desperate. His teeth clink against yours before his tongue presses into your mouth, and then suddenly he draws yours into his and sucks needily. You scarcely have time to moan in delight before he presses you to lie back on the bed.

You had expected that you would need to guide him through this, for he seems so reserved. After all, he spent all of last night ensuring there was proper distance between you. Yet now he needs you, but he needs no direction. In a strong grip, he pins your hands above your head, and then his tongue is licking a long line from your jaw down to your chest. You can't keep your hands up for long, and the moment he sinks his lips over your breast, they are in his hair.

"Oh!"

He sucks on your nipple and swirls his tongue around it as long fingers find its twin, tweaking and teasing it in rhythm with his mouth.

"Osferth!"

He looks up when you sigh his name, and you meet his gaze. It is impossible to understand how good it feels to look down and meet his eyes with your breast in his mouth. When he realses it, you let out a soft whine of frustration, but it is only so he can lavish attention on your other breast. He works your nipple perfectly and it makes your eyes roll back into your head, it's so good.

When you rake your fingers over his scalp, his groans, and you can feel the vibrations in your ribs. You do it again, and so does he. Where on God's green Earth has a fallen monk learned what women like?

As if he can hear your thoughts, his attention turns south. Hot kisses lead him from the slopes of your chest and down your stomach, marking him as yours at every inch. Fingers find their way back to your cunt, and he runs them back and forth over your folds. With a light touch, he even carefully scrapes his nails, and you squirm at the contact. It's nowhere near enough to hurt - just enough to promise.

"I want to..."

He is kneeling between your legs now, and his cock is flushed and hard against his stomach. You mouth waters at the thought of what you want to do to it, but his fingers are pressing against your core and there aren't enough sensible words left in your head to ask.

"I want to kiss you here," he finishes breathlessly. There is a lovely flush over his chest and up his neck.

"Where?" you pant. As if you don't know.

He pushes his fingers against your wet cunt and drags them up to your clit, a spot that lovers in the past have never really cared to find. Yet he runs circles around it like it's nothing. It makes your spine curl. "Here."

"Please!"

He sinks to the floor and pulls you by the legs to the edge of the mattress so they're hanging off, and he kneels in front of you. You feel so exposed and so bare like this, but it's good, it's so good, because he's here and he's taking care of you and-

"Oh, God!"

His lips are hungry against you. He kisses and nips and sucks with more eagerness than he had at your breast, and he searches to find a rhythm that makes you sigh. When two fingers press inside of you, you grant him noises of delight, and you tilt your hips up slightly. Yes, there, just there, you think.

His other hand rushes up your body and finds one of your nipples again, and you groan. He quickly teases it between two fingers, and then rolls it gently between his finger and thumb, all while the other hand fucks you steadily, and his mouth devours you.

You have barely had a chance to even touch him by the time your first orgasm comes crashing over you. It's sudden and overwhelming, and you cry out his name, God's name, again and again. Your voice is strained and high and you gasp for breath, and without thinking, you pull his hand up and take his fingers into his mouth to suck.

When you look down at him, he is gazing back at you, and his lips and chin and cheeks are wet. He's panting, too.

"Take me," you beg around his fingers, nodding. If he doesn't fill you with his cock soon, you will sob. He is hesitant until you suck on his fingers again, and then his resolve is once more broken. With one hand guiding him in, he sinks slowly into you until his pelvis presses against your slick body.

He is less giving with his noises than you are. "Oh-"

"Louder," you beg. "Let me hear you, Osferth."

Breathlessly, he laughs. He is standing at the foot of the bed now, looming over you like a long-forgotten god claiming his prize. He leans down as he sets a steady pace, and he kisses you. You taste the rich saltiness of yourself on his tongue, and it makes you moan again. He presses his tongue deep into your mouth, as his cock does the same in your cunt. He's claiming you, worshipping you.

"Am I hurting you?" he asks between rough kisses.

"No," you reassure him, and your legs wrap around his waist to illustrate how much it doesn't hurt. "It's good. You feel so good, Osferth."

He smiles. It seems that even when he's fucking you, it's the tender words you offer him that make him blush the deepest. When he arches down to suck on your nipple again, his soft hair falls over his face and brushes your skin. It feels so good. You grasp his arms to try to ground yourself, but you're too far gone.

"Ah, my lady, I-"

"Yes, don't stop!"

"I can't, I'm- I'm-!"

Pleasure is quickly mounting in you as his thrusts get sharper and faster and they make you shake on the bed.

"Your hand!" you beg him, and he needs no further instruction than that. Where his mouth had found a sacrament, his hand now returns. He rubs circles around your clit as he fucks you harder and quicker. His face is tight with the effort, his gasps heavy with every short breath. "Osferth!"

You come crashing a second time, this time around his pretty cock, and every muscle in your body feels like it's spasming. Even as you fly high, you feel him pull out, and he doubles over the bed. Through half-closed eyes, you watch as he fucks his hand faster than he could ever fuck you, and whether it's the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, or it's the sight of him touching himself, you shiver and twitch. With his eyes fixed on your chest, he spills onto the bedsheets. His mouth is open in a silent shout, and his eyes squeeze shut.

Only when the hot, white ribbons have stopped leaking from his cock does Osferth finally let himself go. You watch as he pants and runs his hand over his balls, massaging what is left of the tension away. You smile slightly, and hold out your hand for him.

"My sweet, come lay with me."

He avoids your gaze, and as he straightens up, he looks around. "Forgive me, my lady, I must-"

He hurries to a chest of clothes and strips of cloth, and he begins wiping himself clean. You watch without the capability to have much thought about it, as you're still reeling from the orgasms he gave you. Osferth pulls his linen under-tunic back on, and part of you mourns the loss of the sight of him.

"Osferth?"

He doesn't look at you, and instead he bustles around the room doing... well, you're not sure what.

"Osferth!" Your shout makes him look at you with a start, but you're smiling. You hold out your hand to call him back to you. "Come here. Please?"

"I must-'"

"You must lay down with me, and you must hold me."

There is some tension in his face, but you still smile and beckon him over.

"Don't hide from me," you say quietly when at last he takes his place next to you. You smooth away the worry lines from his forehead with a tender touch. "Why do you try?"

He swallows. "I do not mean to. It is... guilt, perhaps."

"Why do you feel guilty, Osferth?"

"For many reasons, but I'm trying not to."

You smile, and as you stroke his hair, he begins to relax against you. "Did you see Him?"

"See who?"

"The face of God, like you said?"

Osferth smiles widely, and buries his face into your neck. "Yes, my lady, I did. I saw Him in you. And when you cried my name, I think that was Heaven itself."

"In deliciis," you murmur, threading your hand through his hair.

He chuckles quietly again. "In delight, my lady. My delight."

[the-common-cowgirl]

The Lost Children- (Osferth x Fem!Reader)

Part 1

Summary: Life was peaceful, living in a nunnery since before you could remember until a wild man by the name of Uhtred and his band of “pretty boys” come and steal you away. Uhtred says you are his lost daughter by a woman named Brida. You don’t like him. You don’t like his daughter and son, who are apparently your younger siblings. And you definitely don’t like his men except for maybe one. Osferth is his name.

Pairings: Osferth x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings for the series: +18, Minors DNI. Smut. Fluff. Angst. Cannon typical sexism. Swearing. AFAB. Fem!Reader. Graphic depictions of violence.

Warnings for Part 1: mentions of blood, fluff, cannon typical sexism, Angst, AFAB.

This will be a mini-series exclusive to Tumblr! I am wanting to build my following on here and what better way than writing about Tumblr’s favorite “Baby Monk.”

Part 2 Here

=====================================

“LET ME GO!” You screamed as one of the men that was sent in to the nunnery hauled you away kicking and thrashing over his shoulder.

“No can do lady.” The man huffed out his reply through labored breaths. He didn’t have to sprint. It wasn’t like the nuns were chasing after them. Knowing how they felt about your temper and overall demeanor, you thought they would be rather happy to get rid of you. Though, after being there for nearly seventeen years, one would think that they’d have grown found of you. But, as you raised your bobbing head, looking at the convent as the man carrying you away trudged quickly through the mud, you saw the nuns just looking at you from the steps, of the chapel with their hands clasped in front of them in contentment.

“Stupid whores,” you mumbled quietly to yourself.

The man carrying you barked out a, “What did you just call me Lady?”

You shrieked and remembered him and his companions were currently carrying you away from the only home you’d ever known. Anger had taken your attention away from the real situation at hand, escaping.

Realizing you could free a wrist with the slack in the knot on your hands, you quickly made work wiggling your left hand free of the binds. When you nearly had your hand free, the man carrying grasped your hips and you threw you to the ground, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Closing your eyes and gasping you tried to regain your breath. You were vaguely aware of a man with a strange accent lightly scolding the man who was carrying you, “Careful Osferth!”

Coughing, you tried to get to your feet quickly, before they could harm you or worse. As you began to sit up, you heard the man, Osferth say regretfully, “Sorry, Lord.”

“Uhtred, we need to get out of here quickly, before Brida catches us!” Another man said. “Sihtric, Osferth, get the horses over here quickly.”

Oh, that’s why they were moving in haste, someone else is coming…

You got to your feet, quickly lunging toward the man who was giving orders and grasping a knife from his belt with the hand you freed in their panic to reach the horses. The bindings fell off your other hand without the tension of the left. “Who are you men? What do you want with me?”

The man, Uhtred, who seemed to be the leader and the other man who’s name you had heard Osferth yell for to help him when he tried binding your hands the first time and you bit him, Finan, both stood with frustrated looks on their faces as you held the knife dangerously in their direction. The both acted as if they didn’t have time for your antics, not threatened. You so hoped that they didn’t challenge you, call your bluff. There was no way you’d be able to fight, you didn’t know how, you grew up in a nunnery. But if there was a chance to run, you might get free, running you were good at.

So you took your best bet and hurled the knife at Finan, hoping it stuck him as you turned and ran the opposite direction, into the trees. Your heavy skirt billowed in the wind your path created but you knew gathering it wouldn’t make you much faster, in fact it would slow you down. You pumped your arms and didn’t look aback, afraid taking that liberty would also slow you down. Life at the nunnery wasn’t ideal but four men trying to kidnap you was worse, for you had no idea what was in store for you with them.

You made it a great distance before you heard footsteps, no, hoofbeats come up beside you quickly. Turning to the sound of the approaching horse to see if it was friend or foe, you saw Osferth jumping off the horse and sprinting in your direction. You turned to run but before you could make it two strides he had tackled you and you head hit the ground painfully, making the world go black.

That was half a month ago.

Now, you’ve settled into the little pack. There is another woman, Eadith who has tended to your head wound. Along with a young boy, Aethelstan who is quiet and the biggest suprise of all, your sister, Stirrora. Like you, she is willful and reckless but she is much more capable than you when it comes to a weapon, even though she is a couple years younger than you.

Uhtred, your father, has told you of your parentage. How he believed Brida was barren after she lost their first child and didn’t know of you until Brida decided to use your existence against him. When he took you from the convent that day, you didn’t know it, he had no time to explain, but Brida was set off to kill you. To bring your head, her own daughter’s head, to her father. At least, that’s what she told Uhtred, though, he believes she would never have been able to do it.

He explained that she never told anyone of you, she wanted to kill you as a babe in her womb but decided against it, to wait until you were born and see if she had any love for you then. She did not love you after you were born so she decided to drop you off at the nearest nunnery, hoping she’d one day find a love for you and steal you back…but it never came.

He said he knew you were his daughter by the wild look in your eye that was so reminiscent of Brida’s when they made their way into the nunnery demanding the nuns to release “Dane Child,” as Brida informed Uhtred they called you.

And she was right, they did call you the “Dane Child.” To find out, the nickname you grew up with was wrong was a point of great laughter for you. You were mocked by the nuns endlessly in your seventeen years there. To go back and see the look on their face when you proudly admitted you were of Saxon blood, not Dane would be the greatest gift God could give you.

But you couldn’t, because not long after Uhtred and his men stole you from the convent, Brida got there. She killed every nun and burnt the convent down. You felt no love for the nuns as they made your life a living hell based on the assumption you were Dane, but those other girls? The girls you grew up with, you had a kinship with. Your heart broke for them. You weeped for three days on and off, praying to God and Odin both that they found peace in their death.

And Osferth, your father’s youngest man, the one who was a monk turned warrior prayed with you and offered counsel when no one else seemed to be able to understand how you hated that place, but loved those girls. Osferth knew because that was his life as a child too. He grew up in a monastery, he knew the great love and great hate that comes with growing up in a place like that but, he was much tamer in personality than you.

When you swore a great revenge on Brida, a bloody, ruthless revenge for everything she had ever done to you, anyone else or what she had yet to do, Osferth tried to talk sense to you. To explain that Brida was a powerful enemy to have. When you demanded he allow you to leave the camp, take a horse, find her and kill her, he offered to train you with the sword first. To delay your departure and death; and you accepted.

Today is the first day of training. Your strength from your head injury has returned and you’ve grown accustomed to traveling now so you’re less sore. Osferth led you out to a flat landing in the forest where the morning dew was still stuck to the tall grass. It nearly soaked your skirts walking through it. Osferth turned in the bare clearing and tossed a sheathed sword to you. You caught the heavy blade with a “hmpf,” surprised at the weight of the sword. Uhtred and his men made them look weightless. Unsheathing the blade, it felt ungodly long in your hands and you looked it at in marvel.

“I decided to pick a smaller size for you since your arms aren’t quite used to swinging a sword.” Osferth offered a small smile but his admission that the blade was small offended you. You just sat there with the sword in your hand, glaring at him. “Oh, you look so dangerous,” he said sarcastically, chuckling to himself.

“I don’t think the Baby Monk should be mocking about who looks dangerous,” you warned. Since you had found out that Osferth had an embarrassing nickname that he didn’t like, you used it against him whenever he mocked you in jest, and for some reason, he often did.

“Ah, sorry. Forgot the Dane Child is the one who knows how to wield a blade.” Two could play your game and Osferth could use your loathed nickname against you too.

You just furrowed your brows and unceremoniously whirled the blade at him in anger. Osferth nonchalantly deflected with his own blade and stepped out of the way of your attack. “If you want to learn, you’re going to have to leave your anger behind at the campsite and listen to me.”

Your face had a pinched expression and you looked at the ground in defeat. You were barely started with your first lesson but it was apparent to you, you’d never learn. You were too old to learn to fight with a blade plus you were a woman, both reasons Uhtred gave when he objected to teaching you. Those were the same reasons Sihtric and Finan gave too. Finan decided to add in a jab that if you did somehow learned to wield a blade, he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping at night knowing you have Brida’s blood running through your veins. That comment garnered a warning look from Uhtred.

But Osferth couldn’t say no to you. Because, unbeknownst to you, he’d been pining after you since he accidentally knocked you unconscious when you tried to run from their protection. How you looked angelic as your blood flowed from the wound on your head. He thought you’d have died and even though he didn’t know you, he began to mourn you. You were a wild beauty, even the time you bit his hand when he first met you. What sealed his heart was your own heart. How you grieved over the loss of your companions in the nunnery and how you pretended to be cold and heartless, yet had shown everyone by your grief, you had a heart. He wished he could see you laugh, he hadn’t seen that yet. Just small smiles and maybe a chuckle or two at Finan’s joking but he hadn’t seen you laugh.

More than that, he wanted to see you happy. Truly happy. You’d been mournful and sad since they had saved you from the attack on the nunnery. When you fell asleep with the children and while the men and Eadith were still awake, sitting around the fire and acting as lookouts, they often discussed you. Uhtred had written you off as being cold like Brida and he seemed to have accepted you will always be that way. Sihtric and Finan quietly agreed but every now and then, added in certain times when you were helpful or kind to one of the kids. Eadith vehemently disagreed not knowing Brida but knowing there was a kindness and warmth in you that was, in her words “stuffed down deep inside.” She insisted that sometime, sooner or later, you’d come out of your shell. Osferth never agreed or disagreed any of those times. He just stared into the fire thinking about the blood pooling from your head and his stomach churned.

“Okay,” you said nodding toward Osferth with the sword in your hand limply, “I’ll listen. Show me how to fight.”

=====================================

I’ve never done a tag list but I wouldn’t be opposed to learning so if you want to be tagged, please let me know!

Please reblog if you like this fic!

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XVI): Love Story.

Imagine you are the Lady of Mercia and Osferth is your knight.

Warnings: soft smut, drama, angst.

Warnings 2: slightly divergence with “The Last Kingdom”’s events, with you being the daughter of Æthelflæd and Uhtred, prepared to the role dutifully.

***

• We were both young when I first saw you. I close my eyes and the flashback starts… I'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air. See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns. See you make your way through the crowd and say, "Hello". Little did I know…

It all starts when you two are young. Osferth has just recently met Uhtred, promptly embraced by this warrior who is to be half Dane, half Saxon, when lady Æthelflæd thought wise to prepare you to succeed her.

By then you and him are in your late teenager days. You do not know yet, though you may suspect, that Lord Æthelred is not your father, a man who inspires no sympathy of his subjects, dismissing you a paternal concern that, how curiously, Uhtred doesn’t hesitate in giving you.

“Lady Y/N”, Uhtred side smirks when seeing you. He can tell this growing beauty has his eyes and the man takes pride in gazing at you. But the secrecy must remain what is, a secret. “What a delight is to see you again.”

Due to recent events, which are a mix of your father’s death and the treachery of some of the Mercian aldermen, this infamous pagan warlord comes to protect your mother as part of his vow to the House of Wessex.

“My lord Uhtred”, you nod your head, unable to explain the instant sympathy the man inspires you, notwithstanding the differences in your creed. “I pray to find you well, my mother has been looking a great deal to seeing you again.”

He laughs, a sound you are most familiar with. It is a secret to none that he is your mother’s lover.

“Likewise, young lady. This is Osferth, by the way”, Uhtred presents one to the other, unknowing he’s planting a deadly seed.

Osferth steps forward. This tall man inspires you butterflies in your stomach, a feeling that you, however, promptly dismiss.

“My lord”, you curtsy graciously.

“Lady”, he avoids your gaze, nodding his head. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Osferth is a very good warrior, Y/N”, says Uhtred, amused by the teenager awkwardness. “He’s proven his worth and thus is here with me. Osferth, stay here with lady Y/N all the whilst I have matters to attend.”

Just like that he leaves you both. There is an awkward silence hanging between you two, so you opt to make things easier by breaking it:

“Is this the first time you stay on Mercia?”

“Nay, lady”, he slowly raises his eyes only to meet a pair of y/c irises staring at him. “I’ve been at Uhtred’s service for a few years since…eh… since I left my order.”

“Order?”, you repeat, rather intrigued. “Is my lord a priest?”

Osferth chuckles. You particularly swoon at his smile, at how handsome he is, but the pride that comes with your station prevents you to show it.

“I was, or rather am, a monk, lady.”

A small exchange of smiles occurs between you and him.

“How a monk then came to serve the great warrior Uhtred Ragnarsson?”

“This is a long conversation, lady.”

“Well, Monk Osferth, I have the time.”

***

• That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles and my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet". And I was cryin' on the staircase. Beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said…

Æthelflæd raises her eyebrows when seeing how all of a sudden you are engaging in a conversation with Osferth when you have never had eyes to somebody else.

“You should not be so demanding to her”, says Uhtred, as they all gather at the table for a supper. “She found in Osferth a good companion, is all.”

“I can see the way she looks at him”, says the lady in a disapproving tone. “She will, when God wills it, be my heiress. She should know where this will lead her to.”

Uhtred limits himself giving her a look that she understands well. At times he wishes he could be more… present in your life. But in many ways he is.

As he observes you and Osferth cautiously now, he thinks wise to interfere.

“Y/N…”,Uhtred calls you. “Your mother wishes you to be more focused in your duties.”

“I do what she asks and more”, you sigh. “She is never pleased with anything I do.”

“It is the way of things. Kings and queens put duties over their sentiments”, says the warlord. “Most times they require personal sacrifices.”

You are tempted to argue, but seeing reason in his speech, what else is there to speak? You nod and giving Osferth a meaningless look, you depart without saying anything.

Osferth watches you go and, when noticing where his eyes follow, Uhtred clears his throat.

“Be careful, boy. Some prizes are too high to aim.”

The monk blushes at once.

“What is it you say, lord? I am but a bastard, a monk who, by chance, follows you in your wars.”

Uhtred side smirks in response.

“Youth can be misleading, this is all I can offer as an advice.”

But some part of the younger male wishes he’d have more time with you… however impossible it is.

***

• Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess. It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"…

You do not see him again. It takes years until tragedy reunites one with the other. Until then you slowly grow into a different woman.

Your mind is well versed in politics and languages, at least knowing enough of Latin to understand the scriptures. You try to follow your mother’s steps, but this comes with a price.

Even Lady Æthelflæd is aware of the subtle changes in your personality. Where’s that characteristically joy that used to spark behind your y/c eyes? She misses it. As well as your innocence. Would time steal it from you?

At first she opts to ignore it. But not even her loyal adviser is blind to the loneliness you go through.

“It would do well if Lady Y/N had some companions to spend her time with. However is her position now or in the future ahead, she must not live isolated.”

Æthelflæd considers. But whilst she asks him to look for suitable companions, the role of a mother, which she often mistook as the same of a queen, leads her to a shadowy road.

“Y/N”, she comes to your chambers and doesn’t like seeing some sort of melancholy in you.

“Yes, my lady?”, you stand and curtsy.

Æthelflæd swallows the hurt when seeing it’s the queen you greet, not the mother.

“We must speak.”

“Have I done any wrongs?”

“It is not about that. I fear I have isolated you. I was… concerned you might suffer mundane influences which I attempted to prevent you to succumb.”

A flash of anger is perceived in your eyes. To your mother this is better than apathy.

“I am never good enough for you, aren’t I? You take the few friends I have and send them away. If I recall your words, all was done under the pretense of following duty.”

An argument is inevitable. There is only so much you can do to hold back the temper that is an inheritance of your mother and your father, though Æthelflæd credits the latter for it.

She hears the accusations in silence. An explosion is better than a cold storm, so the queen judges.

In the meantime the royal household is trembling, Osferth has been living quietly, fighting his wars and drinking his ale. The monk clearly breaks any celibate oath by getting himself involved with women.

“It so appears that our baby monk is not a baby anymore”, so Finan cackles.

“A man does what he does”, he shrugs his shoulders.

How can it be, though, that his thoughts never left aside the only lady he’d commit his heart to? Remorse soon comes when thinking that you’d not do what he did, knowing your character. Glooming soon comes… washing away what he judges to be weakness of his flesh.

As Uhtred likes to quote, though, destiny is all and soon it works to tie his life to yours.

*

Despite amending relations with your mother, you have never been the same. Duty has forged you into an iron lady prepared to embrace the arduous task to inherit a crown that deep inside your heart you’ve never wanted it.

Nonetheless, once you prove how dutiful you are and how sharp is your wit, the witan somehow feels at easy when looking at you as your mother’s heiress.

And the day where you are expected to become Lady of the Mercians comes sooner than expected.

“I have to deliver grave news to you, child”, and without wasting time, she tells you that she’s dying.

Naturally, you are shocked.

“This cannot be!”

“It is the will of God and we must respect it. Soon, transition will occur as we have planned all these years. Listen to me, Y/N, you are ready.” For the first time in a while she looks a mother to you. “I am proud of you, my daughter.”

You lean against her forehead and, letting a sob escape, you say:

“I shall not disappoint you, mother.”

“You could never”, and she kisses your forehead, thus reconciling permanently with you.

As she secretly requests the presence of Uhtred, you are going outside to fetch a messenger when you are surprised by his presence.

“My lord!”

“Where is she?”, by the grave expression on his face, you know he’s already been informed of her condition.

“At her bedchambers”, and it’s when you see him.

Osferth stands in the corridors, his eyes reminding you of those of a lost puppy’s. Courties come and go but you two freeze in time and space.

He knows and you know. With a movement of your head, you indicate him to follow. Discreetly he does, going after you somewhere that you know it’s not well guarded—in the past it used to be the spot where your mother welcomed Uhtred.

“Lady Y/N”, Osferth isn’t sure how to address you, how to even look at you.

For one moment neither do you. It seems as these last years turned one stranger to the other, and perhaps to avoid this odd sensation, you are the one to take his hand in yours.

“My lord”, you speak in short breath. “Osferth.”

“I thought we would never meet again”, says he, daring to raise his eyes.

Studying you, Osferth sees how grown you are. How beautiful you have become with eyes dark as coal and softened features, with y/c locks falling in one long braid. There is sadness behind your y/c eyes and God knows how he wishes to take it away.

When leaning his hand to stroke your cheek, you lean it against his palm, searching for comfort. For the very first time in years you shed a tear.

“I am alone in this world, Osferth. My life is not mine. They forbid me to nurture sentiments of any nature. I am caged.”

“This is not true, lady. I’m here and will never leave your side, this I vow. I did try to forget you in the past”, he admits. “The deep affection there is in my heart admonished my weakness. I cannot nor will I ever be so blunt in letting you to yourself.”

“I am expected to remain chaste”, you sob. “Or at least to marry someone else. Save me, my lord. Save me from my fate.”

“There is little need to protest against destiny”, says Osferth. “You were born for this, lady. God has put you where you should be. I’ll be here for you. Whatever comes, I’ll be beside you.”

You bury your face to his neck, bursting into tears. Osferth is tensed at such proximity, but when he embraces you, his concerns dissipate. Your smell brings him peace and as he rocks you in his arms, he realizes how much he loves you.

Oh, what a misfortune to love a star that is too high to grasp! But Osferth has been accustomed to the night to be drowned in hopelessness. What is he but a moon in search of the sun, contemplating the vast of the galaxy?

Nevertheless, the love he feels for you is inexplicable, inexpressible, irreversible.

“My lady”, he speaks in his husky tone, reluctantly parting from you. “We must go. We cannot take so long. I wish we had more time…”

“Osferth.”

“Yes?”

“Can you do at least one thing for me?”

“Anything, lady”, he takes your hands and presses a hand in each.

“Stay with me. Never leave my side, no matter the circumstances. Be the knight I want you to be.”

Osferth knows what you ask is too much of him. Especially now how acutely aware he is where came from this pair of dark coal eyes that stares at him.

Nevertheless, he’s been too weary to stay far from you. Even if he cannot have you, the warrior monk knows he has no strength to stay away from you anymore.

“I will do as my lady commands me to.”

That being said, Osferth does a bold move that surprises you both. He takes you by your waist and kisses you at long last.

***

• So I sneak out to the garden to see you. We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew. So close your eyes, escape this town for a little while, oh oh…

You are promptly acknowledged as Lady of The Mercians, the rightful successor of Lady Æthelflæd. Duty compels you to act as honorably as you can, showing the witan and your royal uncle how sharped is your wit.

There present is Lord Uhtred, who ensures his natural daughter is safe, that the transition to power occurs smoothly.

But at the end of the day you wish to see only one person. And when everyone else is sleeping, your loyal friend lady Ælfgifu brings him to your privy quarters.

“Lady”, Osferth is surprised at your summon. “Is there something wrong?”

He drinks the view of you, trying not to succumb his lust. Years have passed since he took the oath of not letting be slaved by his flesh, especially regarding his feelings for you.

Now, the sight of your long loose hair and the nightgown that covers poorly your body, letting be captured in glimpses your firm breasts, makes Osferth face an internal battle.

“There is nothing wrong, my love. Fear not”, you short the distance between you two feigning a confidence you lack. “I am my own mistress here, Osferth.”

He gives you a cautious look.

“Time has played with us, has it not?”, the monk muses. “However, my lady, we must not be imprudent. I stand here as you wish, but I am not going to be unwise and put you at risk.”

“I understand my mother has done a vow which I intend to keep. In the meantime she has met the man I know now as my father in secrecy. We could do the same.”

“If you are certain this will not…”

But his words die at how close you two are. What time has repressed, no iron is suffice to hold back now it’s loose. Osferth himself forgets reason when his lips collide against yours and his arms are all around you.

Sighing in content, never before you felt a mistress of yourself as in that moment. When his breath and yours are combined, his strong body warming yours, your fingers let loose in his face, his features, his hair.

All the whilst his tongue dances with yours, his long and callous hands play with your hair and work quickly to remove your fabric. Once he leads you to bed, he pauses a moment to hold your face gently:

“My lady wife.”

“My lord husband”, you beam at the secrecy with which you and him express at last the true sentiments and desires to each other.

Even if this love story is not having the end you’d like, it is already written more pleasant than you’d conceived.

As his mouth drinks in your skin, his tongue twirling around your neck, his hands gently spread your legs, placing himself in between as his mouth starts to cup each nude breast. Devouring your nipples like a hungry man, Osferth for few seconds forgets he is the one experienced…

“Why did you stop”, you moan in protest when seeing this handsome and strong man right where you want him to be.

Osferth smiles at you, a smile that brightens his face which in turn makes you beam at such a view.

“I remember my lady that I must have utmost care with you, considering you are a damsel.”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Is it a way to remind me you have had others in your bed, lord?”

Osferth’s smile quickly dismisses as he crawls over you.

“Lady, whilst it is true I have not behaved well in the past, I am being careful to you. We are already doing it unlawfully…”

“Oh shush! This is not the moment nor the time to…”

And here you are pleasantly swallowed his fervent kisses. Where Osferth is shy and discreet when he’s with others, right here with you he’s every inch the man you’ve read in books. Even more.

When his hand slides to your womanhood, there is no shadow of doubts or jealousy, but two hearts united in one purpose. And this is as holy as mundane, as sacred as profane, from the moment he slides in you only soon to seed you, providing a new delight never before you considered proving.

***

• Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is this in my head? I don't know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said, "Marry me, Juliet. You'll never have to be alone. I love you and that's all I really know. I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress. It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes". Oh, oh, oh. 'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

You receive a visit of Lord Uhtred, who’s been too suspicious of the reason you’ve been keeping Osferth wherever you go.

“Lady Y/N, may we have a word?”, he is somewhat surprised to see you fitting well in your new role.

In spite of the burden that being the sole ruler of Mercia carries, you’ve been continuing with the hard work of your mother. Some advisors, already perceiving that you hold a favourite in the person of your dearest knight, who does not meddle in politics, keep a blind eye to his person. But will others do the same notwithstanding your utmost discretion?

“Yes, lord Uhtred. You know you are welcome here”, you dismiss the council and receive him like a daughter receives a father.

The tender gesture does not go unnoticed by the man, who softens before you.

“So much like your mother”, Uhtred whispers, a sad smile crossing his lips. “Even in temper.”

“We had our differences”, you say, leaving a hint of a resentment that never truly healed. You wish you had been better as a daughter, more committed to the cause she stood for. You try amending the remorse by doing what she’d do… though this does not mean you forget your secret vows exchanged with Osferth.

Uhtred studies you for a moment and it’s almost as if he can tell what’s been left unsaid.

“We all did, but you are doing a good work here. She would be proud of you. Leaving these matters aside, I am not here to discuss the rather unpleasant businesses King Edward’s been having with Mercia.”

You ask servants to fetch yourselves wine and food before gallantries are set aside for politics. To your surprise, however, what Uhtred comes to discuss with you is in regard of your relationship with Osferth.

“Lord!”

“There is no need to protest. I am not here to admonish you for what I’ve done myself”, says he. “Whoever you lies with is your problem, Y/N. But the point is…the oath your mother took was only performed after you were adult and well looked after. You need to continue the lineage if you do not wish that Mercia falls onto the hands of Wessex.”

“I do not think the aldermen will accept Osferth as my husband”, you hesitate.

“There may be some elements they might consider”, Uhtred strokes his chin. “Do you love this man, Y/N Y/LN?”

You smile at the question posed. Uhtred can tell you do love his baby monk, unbelievable as it is that Osferth conquered the lady of Mercia’s heart. He scoffs at it.

“I do”, and then as if hesitating, you ask: “Will you give us your blessing?”

Uhtred never considered that you’d outwit him and your mother, but looking at the sagacity with which you’ve been conducting Mercian affairs, is it really difficult to believe you’ve known all this time?

“I personally think you deserve better”, the warlord teases you. “But alas, aye! He will look after you, I’m sure.”

You nod your head, thankful for his blessing. Then a moment of silence passes before Uhtred says:

“How long have you known?”

“Long enough”, your smile spreads. “What a shame is that I will never be able to acknowledge you as my father in public.”

“It matters not”, he says. “What is more relevant is that you are well and conducting your affairs properly, something of which I’ve never harbored doubts. I’m proud of you.”

A delight this reunion proves to be, giving your heart the balsam you need.

*

You are lawfully married to Osferth before selected witnesses on a sacred day. You ensure to bring your half-siblings for the ceremony, particularly bonding to Stiorra, who, despite the differences in creed, proves to be the sister you wish you had back in your youth.

At the feast, the aldermen present themselves. Not many are content with the choice, but if the blood of Ælfred does not meddle in Mercian matters, then all is well.

“You look beautiful, lady”, Osferth smiles as you two dance beautifully in your own ways after receiving the blessing of the priest. “I never thought I’d see this day come.”

“It did, husband”, you smile back and he notices the old glee once spotted in your eyes long time ago have now returned. “I’ve always had my faith this would somehow end well for us.”

“Praise the Lord”, says he.

An exchange of loving glances is enough before the bedding parade is announced. You see Uhtred is sighing heavily, opting for not partaking of the boasting. Some aldermen snort at it for its pagan nature.

But some traditions survive the time. Therefore, you play the role of a damsel, whose gown is stripped on your way to your bedchambers, as Osferth does the same. He laughs as Finan teases him, as well as their other mates, considering they were more than familiar with Osferth’s history before you came along.

Now here you two are, alone at last.

“It brings me great relief, in all honesty, that we are no longer hidden in secret”, he admits, lying on his elbow as he admires you openly.

“As it does to me, though what we have is not a burden, never was.”

“I know”, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. “I only wish we had not taken such a long time.”

“It all happened in due time”, you smile before pulling him to you.

One kiss is enough to make Osferth’s mind go blank as well as yours. Thus it is this love story is sealed with a carnal union that mirrors that of the soul.

***

• Epilogue.

Some years later…

You pat your growing belly, watching with concern as Osferth teaches Edgar how to manage a sword.

“You must first learn how to unsheathe the sword, boy”, he speaks patiently. “And only then you will swing the basis like this…”

Edgar has the dark eyes of your father, but the hair of your husband. Except by these features, it’s a common consent that Mercia’s next ruler is very much like you.

“Be careful, husband! Edgar is not yet five”, you say, at the same time keeping an eye to the maids who look after Ædyth, 3, and Osbert, 2.

When Osferth meets your gaze, you still freeze, mesmerized by the unique kind of joy only a man like him could make you feel. After all these years? Always, you’d say to your sister.

“I will, my love. I assure you that, whatever has Finan told you about me, I’ve grown prudent”, he chuckles.

“I’m just assuring you, this is all.”

“You are fussing”, you hear a familiar voice that makes you turn your head to. It’s Stiorra, the happily queen of York. “You didn’t think I’d miss your labor, would you?”

At times you forget your belly is heavier…

“With many matters to attend, my sister, I honestly wouldn’t expect you to. But you know how grateful I am by your company.”

The thread is briefly interrupted as you are distracted by the shout of your youngest children. Osbert is crying for a reason and Ædyth is claiming she can hold a sword.

You give Stiorra a look before playing the role of a mother. As Osferth fussed with his son’s hair, thus finishing the training, his eyes linger at the familiar scenario.

“Who’d ever known we would come all this way?”, when he turns it’s Finan who speaks.

Today, he came with Uhtred for a familiar visit that has, however, political implications. It appears that Brida has been planning a vengeance at Uhtred, so the northern warlord came to ask for Mercian aid—specially when your royal uncle is not excited at the prospect of borrowing your father some men to impede this alleged Danish invasion.

“God writes in mysterious ways”, says the former monk.

“You deserve this, my friend. You have a wife who loves you, and she is rich, possessing lands and enough silver for a lifetime”, both friends laugh at his remark. “And what about your children? I’ll ensure that Edgar is training by my sons’ side when time is come.”

“You can always bring them here”, suggests Osferth. “Y/N doesn’t want to acknowledge but in due time our boy will have his own household, so he must be surrounded by good and loyal friends.”

“I’ll consider it with my wife. It’s an excellent suggestion”, Finan agrees.

As the day turns into night and the guests, as well the children, are set to sleep, Osferth and you finally have a moment to yourselves.

“What a day”, says he in the moment he slides at his side of the bed.

“Indeed. Grandmother has been very, uh, busy with our children. I fear she might spoilt them too much”, you shake your head, in reference to the King Ælfred’s wife who’s been with you since your mother’s premature demise.

Osferth is on his elbow, stroking your hair as he ensures you are comfortable.

“She enjoys a privilege few do: meeting her great-grandchildren, another generation of the old king’s blood.”

You lean into his touch, locking hands with his, watching your husband blow away a few candles.

“You bring me great delights, my love.”

“The seed is strong”, he teases you, making you chuckle quietly.

“Don’t be silly, Osferth.”

With moonlight finding its way stubbornly through half closed curtains, you see the gaze your husband casts at you. You lift your hand to play with his short hair before stroking his face.

No words are needed.

As you smile and he smiles too, you peck his lips. It is a love story and both of you said yes to it. Such is what the pens of future scribes will register.

Others will write songs. The Lady and Her Knight will echo through the centuries, with your descendants still on power somehow by the 18th century…

[vermithorn]

This request is for our darling Osferth. His super religious upbringing has him unknowingly become an ass man, with this twisted idea if they have anal, her "purity/maidenhead" will stay intact. She can be a nun, ealdorman's daughter, whatever.

Here's a picture for inspiration. ♥

OSFERTH + ANAL

contains: afab!reader, modern!osferth, anal, also anal fingering ofc, manipulation? slightly dub-con so tagging it anyway, gaslighting, religious themes? is this sacrilege? blasphemy? i think it’s desecration? i don’t know i am not religious im sorry if this is wrongly put omg it’s fucking anal. ooc osferth but y’all know how it is with anal SEX.

author’s note: holy shit arcie,, god tier request i hope i do it justice damn. i had to do a modern!au because i still cant wrap my head around old english terms to write,, so forgive me for that and please enjoy! GOD FORGIVE ME FOR THIS HOLY FUCKING SHIT,,,

send your requests for my milestone event!

“Are you sure about this,” You stuttered, still somewhat embarrassed as Osferth looked down at you, “I don’t think it works that way, Osferth.”

He kneeled in front of you, and placed a hand on your thigh, “Don’t worry, darling,” He softly caressed your skin, his long fingers tracing shapes in your inner thigh. “I already explained this to you, do you want to hear it again?”

You nodded shakily, your gaze moving from his hand on your thigh to his blue eyes. “Yes, please.”

He gave you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t seem right to you as his deep blue eyes darkened. 

“My sweet girl,” He cooed, cupping your face with his other hand, “You know we can’t lay normally as a man and woman could,” A little smirk crept into his face, “I am not allowed to take you as mine that way, you know that.”

You pouted slightly, a faint blush appearing on your face. “I know.”

“Good girl,” His hand was soft on your face, tracing your jaw as he spoke, “But thankfully, I know a way.”

His hand on your inner thigh moved to your already wet cunt, he grazed the wet patch on your panties before moving them to the side. His index moved up and down on your folds making you shiver, he gathered your juices as he moved his finger downwards your perineum. 

He circled your exposed puckered hole with the pad of his index, coating it with your own juices as you jumped slightly at the touch. 

“I cannot take your purity, my darling,” He purred, “But I can take you from here and we wouldn’t have a single problem.”

You had to hold back a moan at the back of your throat, gulping as you looked into his blue eyes who were looking back at you with an electrifying hunger. 

“Are you sure? Isn’t that the same thing?”

He looked at you condescendingly, “Sweet girl, don’t you trust me?” He kept circling your puckered hole, the pad of his finger slowly pushing into you. 

You frowned, shaking your head apologetically, “I do trust you, sorry.”

He removed the hand on your face, grabbing the little bottle of lube on the nightstand. “You should know better than question God’s word, sweet girl.” He put an absurd amount of liquid on his fingers, parting your legs with his other hand to begin opening you up. 

The lube was cold on your skin, it made you jump at every slight touch. He started slow, the familiar touch of his pad on your puckered hole making his way in, the burn of the intrusion making you wince. 

“Osferth.” You sighed, swallowing as his fingers pushed into your puckered hole, working you up. 

His first finger transformed into two, adding more lube to it every time, his other hand worked on your clit to make it more pleasurable. Suddenly, your soft distressed whimpers turned into loud moans of delight, his fingers working magic into you.

“Are you ready to take all of me, darling?” He whispered, his head leaning against your leg as he watched hypnotized how his fingers scissored into your gaping hole. 

You only could nod in response, your eyes closed.

He softly removed his fingers from your hole, and you watched him remove his pants quickly, his hardened cock in sight as he pulled his underwear down.

Osferth lubed his cock, using an exaggerated quantity of the liquid, but he knew how useful it was. He kneeled in front of you, his throbbing cock standing proud and crimson. “Open your legs, sweet girl,” He said, slowly pumping his length, spreading the lube.

You obeyed, parting your legs as much as possible as you laid back on the bed.

He grinned down at you, his blue eyes darkened with lust. “Good girl, you have to look me in the eyes as I do this, do you understand?”

You nodded quickly, shaking in anticipation as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock on your now stretched puckered hole. You shivered, shaky breaths coming out of your mouth.

“You will stay pure as I do this, you know that right?” He slowly submerged himself into your hole, making you gasp, already overwhelmed at the big invasion.

He grunted, teeth clenching as he muttered, “So tight, my sweet girl, you’re so tight for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered, almost closing, jaw dropped as he buried himself into you.

His hand flew to your jaw, startling you, opening your eyes to look at him, “Look at me, this is a reward for you, darling.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works.

[happilyhertale]

Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.2 k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Other stories of mine

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The sun, which has been high in the sky all day, is slowly tilting towards the earth. Four men ride silently side by side. Every now and then an exhausted grunt can be heard. As soon as the grunt is silenced, it is usually answered with another grunt. They have been riding like this for days now. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth are on their way from the northernmost point in Scotland back to Wessex.

The men are exhausted by the long distance they have already covered on horseback. The not very restful nights they have already spent in various forests do not diminish their exhaustion.

"Lord. We could spend the night in a village today," Finan says after another grunt.

Uhtred turns slightly in Finan's direction, "If we ride through the night, we should be in Northumbria by tomorrow"

"But Lord… We should stop and rest. I'm tired of the sight of my horse's head... his ears in particular," Osferth chimes in.

Sihtric turns to Uhtred as well, "I wouldn't say no either"

Osferth continues to nod in agreement.

Uhtred sighs, "Very well… The next village is headed for"

"We would have a place to sleep there for sure too," Finan says to Uhtred with a grin. Uhtred sees Finan's grin and becomes curious.

"Do you have a sweetheart up here?" asks Uhtred with raised eyebrows.

"Not exactly. My family lives there and we could sleep and eat there"

"What? I thought you were from Ireland," Osferth looks at him questioningly.

Finan nods, "We're originally from Ireland. But my parents moved over with me and my sister"

Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.

The men rode on again in silence. Every now and then a grunt can be heard. But it was a done deal, they were on their way to Finan's family.

You stand in front of your little house. The evening sun shines on your face and you enjoy it. You close your eyes for a moment. Your little house is located on the edge of a village, near the forest. You enjoy the peace and quiet that the location offers you, and that you can let your gaze wander into the forest at any time as soon as the hustle and bustle of the village becomes too much for you. Slowly you open your eyes again and take a deep breath. You still want to water the flower bed before you retire for the evening. As you put the bucket down, you hear noises in the forest behind you. You turn around, but in the twilight you can't really see if anyone is there. Out of habit, you reach for the dagger tucked under the skirt of your dress.

"Who is there?" you ask in a firm voice.

But instead of an answer, you only hear the rustling of the bushes at the edge of the forest.

Suddenly a Dane steps out of the forest and you instinctively hold up your dagger. You are ready to defend yourself. Your breath catches in your throat, but the Dane just grins at you. "Finan! I didn't know that your parents can also produce something beautiful", the Dane says.

Finan? How does he know your brother...?

"Aye! Lord! Shut up!", Finan suddenly stands next to the Dane. Your lungs fill with air again as you see your brother smiling at you from a short distance away.

You don't hesitate for long. "Finan!" you shout and run towards him. You throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Heey... my little one," he says softly and presses you closer to him.

You sob a little. He loosens the embrace and takes your face in his hands, "Ey... y/n.... If I had known ya missed me so much, I would have stopped by sooner," he smiles at you. You wipe tears from your face and have to laugh for a moment.

"What are ya doing here?" you finally ask your brother.

"We're just passing through and I thought we were due for a visit"

Only now do you become aware and remember the Dane. But when you look behind Finan, you see two other men standing there. But your gaze immediately falls on the blond monk. However, he immediately averts his gaze from you when he realises that he has been caught staring. Now you notice another Dane. Somehow you seem to like this mixture of the troupe. Finan turns around as well, "Sorry y/n. This is Uhtred, Sihtric and our baby Monk, Osferth"

You notice the monk giving Finan a warning look. The Danes, on the other hand, give you a friendly nod. Finan turns back to you, "Where are mother and father? Are they in the house? We are starving!" Finan is all euphoric.

You gently touch his forearm, "Finan...", you speak softly. He looks at you, but you only shake your head slightly.

"What...?" he whispers, sadness crossing his face.

"The fever took them last winter... First mother, then father..." you whisper.

He shakes his head slightly now too and you wrap your arms around him. After a short silence, you hear Finan murmur into your hair, "You're here all alone?"

You nod, "That must be enough for you now"

He just nods slowly and you can still see the sadness in his face.

You smile up at him, "Come, let's go into the house... I've put on some soup"

Together you go into the house. The men sit down at the table and you serve them the soup. There is not much talking at first, as they simply enjoy the warm meal. When they have finished, you prepare ale for everyone. Light conversation now fills the room. Osferth tries to comfort Finan, to say something nice about your parents. But Finan doesn't want to hear about it at the moment. After a while you take the dagger, which is again under your skirt and presses uncomfortably against your thigh, and put it on the table.

"Feisty... You always carry a dagger with you?", the Dane, Uhtred asks you. You look at him a little amused, "Men sometimes don't understand what 'no' means. So it can't hurt to have something with you to back up your opinion"

Uhtred grins and raises his cup "I'm afraid that's true"

You grin at him and join him in a toast.

When there is a knock at the door, you get up and go over. You open the door and your good mood is immediately dampened.

"Edward... what do ya want here?" you ask, a little annoyed. Alarmed by your tone, Finan looks at the door. From the door, there is no view of the table and so Edward does not notice that he is now being overheard by four guys.

"Y/n... I thought... maybe you'd like some company tonight...?"

He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.

"No, Edward. I told you the other day that it wasn't going to happen again"

Finan's expression darkens.

"Oh come on... Don't you miss it...?" he winks at you.

"What would she miss?"

You startle a little as Finan suddenly stands behind you. Edward looks startled too and just stammers around. Words like "nothing" and "just making sure everything is okay" leave his mouth.

"Good. And do not worry, everything is fine here," Finan lets Edward know as he closes the door.

You look at him indignantly, "Finan! I can handle it myself!"

He just walks back to the table and takes a big gulp of ale. You stand in the room a little speechless. You look at Finan and shoot daggers at him. But Finan continues to stand with his back to you and does not look at you.

Sihtric and Uhtred just grin and look at each other. But you notice Osferth looking at you again. He is probably shocked that a woman would seek the company of a man even though she is not married. You sigh softly and go back to the table. You sit down and shake your head slightly.

Finan looks at you again, "What...? You're my sister. I'll always look out for ya. And... the last time I was here, ya liked Edward, didn't ya?"

"I did," you emphasise, "Until I found him between another woman's thighs"

Osferth chokes on his ale and you look at him somewhat amused. He has to grin now, too, and he wipes the ale running down his chin with his hand. You have to chuckle a little, but somehow you like the sight.

But Finan turns your attention back to himself, "He did what? That bastard... Let me go to him..." Finan is about to get up, but you pull him down by his arm.

"No... There's no need for that. That's done and in the past. Really," you smile at him, but Finan doesn't really look convinced.

He just grumbles something to himself and drinks from his ale. You stroke his arm gently.

The later the hour gets, the louder the conversations become. You laugh a lot and talk to each other across the table. You enjoy having your brother and his friends with you. At some point, Uhtred has persuaded you to show him how you can defend yourself against men with your hands if you don't have your dagger with you. But it always ends up with Uhtred putting his arm around your neck from behind or you just giggle and somehow try to bring Uhtred down.

Eventually you sit down at the table again. You are still a little out of breath when Osferth, who is now sitting next to you, addresses you directly, "Lady... isn't it dangerous for a woman to live here alone?"

Uhtred interjects, "Well... if the possible attacker just stands still and doesn't fight back, then y/n has a chance to defend herself," Uhtred grins at you.

But you do not answer Uhtred, instead you kick him under the table.

Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.

You look at him curiously now, "Would it be safer for a woman somewhere else?"

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well... if you were at least in company... and there was no Edward lurking outside your door"

You have to chuckle a little and notice a smile forming around his lips too as it dawns on you. "Ooh yes! I'll come with ya"

Now Finan chokes on his ale and Uhtred grins again. As he calms down, he looks at you, "No way. You're safer here than being out with us"

"Finan!" you utter indignantly, but he just shakes his head.

When Sihtric speaks up, "Honestly, she's probably safer with the four of us. There's no one here to look after her"

Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.

"And if we go into battle?", Finan looks slightly overwhelmed.

"Then of course I won't be there. Then I'll cook you dinner in the meantime... Or keep the bed warm," you answer with a grin. As a sister, you know what drives Finan up the wall.

He gives you a warning look and continues to shake his head, "That's not funny... and that's out of the question"

He stands up and goes outside to pee.

Now you shake your head and stand up.

"Guys... It's late... I'm going to sleep now. This will not end well here otherwise"

Sihtric and Uhtred nod at you. Osferth smiles slightly at you, "Good night lady y/n" and you return his smile.

When Finan returns, he sees that you have gone to bed. He sighs and sits back down at the table with the boys. Uhtred's gaze is on Finan, "You know it would be the right decision. She's here all alone, and I'm sure Edward's not the only one knocking on her door"

Finan gives him a warning look.

"I'm just saying. Your parents aren't here anymore, she has no one here to look after her. And with us, she'd have four men by her side looking after her", Uhtred continues

Silence now reigns at the table as the boys continue to drink their ale. Until Finan just nods and gets up from the table again. "Okay... But if even one of ya tries to hit on my sister..." he adds warningly before disappearing into an adjacent room.

The next morning you come out of your chamber. Three men lie on furs on the floor. Light snoring fills the room. You leave the house and go into the garden behind it. Everything is still quiet, a few birds are chirping. You watch as the sun slowly rises and makes the shadows of the forest look less threatening.

Suddenly Finan is standing next to you. You are startled and flinch briefly.

"Holy Lord! Finan!", you lightly punch his arm. He says nothing, but smiles slightly. He also looks in the direction of the sunrise.

"Ya can come with us. Although I know it's dangerous for ya to accompany us... But I also have to admit that it's probably more dangerous for ya to stay here alone..."

You smile at him.

Slowly he looks in your direction, "Ya have to listen to me though"

You grin at him, "I never have Finan"

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Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Traitor

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: a big thank you to awesome and incredible @little-diable for having the wonderful and crazy idea to write this together. I loved it so much! You are such an amazing writer.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, angst

Summary: 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

Word Count: 4,8 K

Headers and dividers by the lovely @arcielee

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

I'm not sure if this letter will ever get to you or if you'll even want to read it. But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye.

You probably already know, and it's true. I was sent to spy on Lord Uhtred, on orders from Lord Wihtgar, Uhtred’s cousin and the current ruler of Bebbanburg.

I came here as a spy and an enemy, full of suspicion, hate and disdain. I was sent to spy on a traitor of his own kin, on a heathen teamed up with the Danes to try and bring down my Lord, the rightful ruler of Bebbanburg.

But now, as I'm leaving, I want you to know I'm going as a friend and an ally, even if you can't quite believe it, even if you all rightfully see me as a traitor.

These past few months have taught me so much - about trust, relying on others, feeling accepted, and being valued. But most importantly, I've learned what it means to be loved.

I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, and it never will be…

"It's all blurred and smudged from here. I can't decipher it," Osferth looked up from the small piece of vellum he held in his hands. His gaze wandered around the dimly lit room before settling on the silhouette seated at the table, with elbows propped up and head resting on hands, fingers entwined in hair.

"Read it once more," Sihtric growled, his voice rough and slightly trembling.

"I've already read it to you five times. What do you expect to uncover?" Osferth shrugged. The sound of the bench falling echoed as Sihtric suddenly sprang to his feet, knocking it over and grabbed the cup from the table, draining it in a few hasty gulps. He stood there for a moment, examining it in his hand. Moments later, the cup was hurled to the ground with such force that it shattered into countless small pieces, causing Osferth to flinch.

"Nothing," venom dripped from Sihtric's voice, "I'm a fool, a damned idiot. How could I not see it? How could I be so blind?" he roared before storming out of the room.

It had been surprisingly easy, much easier than you had anticipated. It appeared that Uhtred had a soft spot for taking in masterless dogs and those less fortunate. All it took was a heart-wrenching tale of being captured by Scots as a child and raised as a warrior to win his acceptance. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain for his kind-heartedness and naivety. He truly didn't deserve to be called a Lord.

A Lord should be stern and ruthless, someone who instilled fear in their subordinates, devoid of the lower emotions like love and compassion that made people vulnerable to manipulation. This was what you had been taught, ingrained in you since childhood, nurtured by your mother's milk, and enforced by your father's strict hand.

You happened to be the sole child of Bebbanburg's commandant and the trusted right hand of Lord Ælfric Uhtredson. Your father had always yearned for a son, but fate had dealt him a different hand – a daughter, a fragile and small creature with large, inquisitive eyes and infectious laughter.

The carefree and joyful days of your childhood came to an abrupt end when your father finally acknowledged your existence. Around the age of ten, as it became apparent that your mother would not provide the male heir he so desperately desired, your father’s attention shifted to you.

And now, here you were – a grown woman, a trained warrior, and a cunning spy, with deep and sorrowful eyes, and a laughter that had been absent from your life for years. This was how you entered the service of Lord Uhtred.

“You’ve got a knack for it,” Finan chuckled approvingly, and you saw his hand extending towards you to help you up from the ground. You hesitated, uncertain if he genuinely meant it, half-expecting him to withdraw his hand at the last moment, his warm smile giving way to a mocking grin. He had bested you fair and square. Again. Finan the Agile, they called him, and rightly so.

He had the appearance of a large, affable bear, with warm brown eyes, that always seemed to twinkle mischievously. What a deception! That man moved as swiftly as lightning. Despite investing all your strength, skill, and effort, you found yourself seated in the dirt, gasping for breath. The surprise in your eyes was impossible to conceal as you kept glancing at his outstretched hand. Even though you knew by now that his hand would remain there, that you could rely on it and you could trust it not to turn against you, old habits died hard, etched into your very bones, causing you to hesitate once more. 

Finally, you mustered the courage to grasp it, allowing Finan to help you to your feet. "That move earlier, when you suddenly changed direction and lunged to my left, almost caught me off guard. That was impressive," the bearded Irishman continued, his genuine smile unwavering. He retrieved your sword and handed it back to you. "Ready for another round?"

You thought you were prepared for anything. You were ready to fight for your place among the warriors, anticipating challenges and the disdain that comes with being an outsider, a newcomer, and a woman. You were prepared for the sly glances, whistles, and crude remarks, for unwelcome advances and dirty hands trying to grope you. Having been raised in the world of men, you knew their ways well.

"Hey, let the lady catch her breath," Osferth's ever-cheerful voice echoed across the yard as he approached with a pitcher and ale mugs in his hands. The shy former monk was undoubtedly the most peculiar addition to the pack around Uhtred. Why was he even carrying a sword? He seemed clueless about how to use it. Initially, you assumed he might be warming someone's bed, but it soon became evident that this was not the case.

There was no logical explanation for his presence in a warriors' camp, but there he was, offering a bashful smile as he filled the mugs with ale and handed the first one to you. You couldn't deny the calming and radiant aura that accompanied him, something intangible, something elusive that defied explanation. Always courteous and attentive, unwavering in his faith in God's benevolence, he carried the weight of being born out of wedlock with quiet dignity and bestowed genuine kindness upon those around him.

You had believed you were prepared for anything – ready to endure contempt and hatred, to withstand pain and humiliation, to employ your body as both a weapon and allure. You had experienced it all, endured it all, and each time emerged stronger. But there was one thing you hadn't been prepared for – to be accepted just as you were, to be treated with respect and appreciation. Friendship and loyalty had taken you by surprise, and above all, you had never anticipated being cared for and loved.

Love. It had been an empty word, devoid of real meaning to you. In this cursed world where power, authority, and control were the sole currencies of worth, there was no room for something as seemingly foolish as love. How could you have prepared for it when you had never felt it?

Love didn't strike you suddenly, nor did it assault your senses and reason. You might have recognized it then if it had. Instead, it arrived slowly, subtly, through tentative glances and concealed smiles, in the hesitant brush of fingers. It infiltrated your everyday life as helping hands to maintain your weapons or carry your saddlebag, as a casual shift to the side, making room for you at the fire, as unassuming inquiries when you appeared tired or unwell. The genuine care and attention that the reserved and initially withdrawn young Dane with that stern and piercing gaze framed by two mismatched eyes offered so effortlessly and unpretentiously wrapped around you like a soft, welcoming blanket. It dulled your wariness, dazzled you like freshly brewed ale, and you fell for it without regret.

“Fuck,” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut, hands pressed against the cold ground. You were lying flat on your back, unable to take another step. It had been a foolish mistake, really, one second you had tried to prove to the guys how easy it was to balance one too many cups of ale in your hands, the next you had found yourself on the ground. One of the other drunken guys had rammed into you, forcing you to the ground without another warning. 

It had taken you a few seconds to realise what was going on, blinking the tears away that welled up in your eyes due to the pain sticking to your foot. Voices had echoed in your ears, growing louder by the second, forcing you to at least try and sit up. All you could do was watch how Finan had to hold back Sihtric, who was about to tear the guy to shreds. 

You had murmured Sihtric’s name, hoping to catch his attention. If there was one thing you hated, it was being the centre of attention – and being the reason for a fight amongst the guys would definitely put you further into the said centre. It had taken Finan a few moments to get some distance between Sihtric and the guy, forcing the Dane to finally focus on you. 

“Can you stand?” Sihtric had kneeled in front of you, worried eyes flickering between yours and the hurt ankle you pressed your hand against. A whimper had left you as you had to rise, plopping back to the ground with a huff. There was no use in denying the shame thumping through your veins, filling every inch of your body. Only as Sihtric had placed his hand on your chin, redirecting your gaze towards him, had you managed to look at the handsome Dane again, sending him a smile. 

“Up you go.” Without another warning, Sihtric had picked you up, strong arms wrapped around your cold body. The shriek that had clawed through you had left Finan and Osferth laughing, watching Sihtric carry you towards the tent he was supposed to sleep in. 

And now here you were, placed on the warm fur, eyes studying the Dane’s every move. You could tell that something was holding Sihtric back, not daring to touch you for more than a handful of moments, pulling away whenever his eyes found yours as if your mere closeness set fire through his body. It frustrated you, seeing him this weary, scared to touch your already battered body. 

“Sihtric,” you murmured his name, once again sitting up to be closer to him. Your hand darted out to find his warm cheek, trying not to pay the way he seemed to hold his breath too much of your attention. Slowly your thumb began to move, stroking his soft skin, the small marks and scars littering his cheeks, marks you couldn’t help but admire. He emanated strength and danger, and yet you felt awfully safe around him, knowing that he’d always protect you – should you need it. 

With your breath hitched in your chest, it took you a moment to realise what was happening. Sihtric had pressed his lips against yours, hand placed on the back of your head to keep you close, not daring to let you go. Your heart was racing, torn between excitement and confusion, since you had hoped you’d eventually find yourself in a situation like this, and yet you haven’t dared to overthink it much. 

“I am sorry.” Suddenly he pulled away, trying to get some distance between the two as if you were some addicting poison he needed to stay away from. Your wide pupils followed his every haste movement, not understanding what was going on. “You’re hurt, I shouldn’t touch you, not like this.” 

A soft laugh broke out of you, hand reaching out for him to pull Sihtric in for another kiss. The moan that clawed through him left you grinning against his mouth, slowly parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You found yourself pressed against the fur, with Sihtric hovering over you. Neither of you dared to break the kiss this time, not as his hands began to work on your clothes, not as you fought against the need to arch your back to let go of a deep moan. 

“I want to take care of you, take away your pain. Will you let me?” His raspy voice shot shudders down your spine, eyes rolling back into your head the second his warm mouth found your chest. All you could do was moan his name, teeth running along your lower lip to somewhat try to be quiet, not wanting to attract the attention of nearby drunkards. Expectedly he sucked on your hardening nubs, grinning whenever you choked on his name. “My pretty shieldmaiden, the fiercest warrior I aim to claim.”

“Gods, Sihtric, more. Please.” Sihtric blindly followed your choked command, kissing his way down to your heat. You were dripping for him, needing to feel his hands and mouth on you before he could fuck you like you had dreamt of him doing for a while now. The way he groaned at your taste left you clenching around nothing, fingers holding onto the furs to try and ground yourself. 

His colourful eyes watched you intently, not wanting to miss one single expression, telling him all about how you felt buried beneath him, with his mouth on you. You felt as if you were drowning, clinging to every breath you were allowed to inhale, close to passing out. But Sihtric was determined, wanting to push the most sinful yet most beautiful sensation through your body. 

“I must have pleased the Gods for being allowed to feel you this close, you’re mine now.” A hum left you, unable to reply with words as he forced two fingers into your tightness. Your walls clenched around him, telling him that you were already close. The grin he wore on his lips was devilish as he spoke up once again, “Say it, say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, only yours.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came on his fingers, whimpering his name. Sihtric’s thumb kept circling your pulsing bundle, prolonging the intense sensations for a few more moments. For a second it felt as if you were reborn, heart racing too fast, palms sweaty from the way you had tried to hold onto the furs. 

You tried to rise from your position, wondering what he’d do next, but Sihtric kept you pressed to the ground, looking like Loki himself, the trickster with a grin that could fool anybody. With wide eyes, you watched Sihtric undress, leathers plopping to the ground to expose his carefully chiselled muscles, gracing his stomach, his arms, and his thighs. All you could do was choke on your breath as your eyes focused on his hard cock, begging for your touch, to feel you wrapped around him. 

“I promised to take care of you, but I won’t be gentle, not when I’ve got you buried beneath me like that.” Sihtric’s voice dripped with possessiveness, lust, and excitement, once again leaving you covered in goosebumps. You nodded, unable to speak up as his mouth found yours, kissing you breathless while he aligned himself with your cunt. “Hold onto me, mark me up.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, clawing your fingernails into his warm skin, adding more scars to the ones he had collected on battlefields. And yet he’d be prouder of the ones you added than any other, he’d fight any war if it meant getting to be with you. The both of you moaned in unison as he pushed into you, forcing your walls to adjust to his size. 

Sihtric hadn’t lied, he wasn’t soft, wasn’t sweet, no, he fucked you like a man on a mission, a man who followed his lord’s commands. And you loved every moment of it, every rough thrust that managed to set your body ablaze, every thrust that left you choking on the air you were desperate for. Your nails left bloody marks down his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you on the fur, hoping that this was the first of many nights you’d spent on this fur together. 

“You feel so good around me like the gods have crafted you for me, mine to own, mine to love.” Sihtric’s words almost drew tears to your eyes, desperately wanting to reply, to tell him about your feelings, but you couldn’t. You were too far gone, once again close to falling off the edge. With one last kiss pressed to your lips, you came, moaning his name into the cold night. Sihtric fucked you through your release, groaning into the crook of your neck as he came only a few seconds later. 

You both panted heavily, slowly coming down from your highs, as your foggy mind gradually cleared, and your hazy gaze locked onto Sihtric's mismatched eyes.

This was the moment you always hated the most - the moment of harsh and uncomfortable truth, filled with awkward glances, whispered words, and hurried, clumsy movements. It was the time when one inevitably left, fumbling for clothes and murmuring promises that were never meant to be kept.

You had been on both sides often enough; it was neither new nor unexpected to you. However, for perhaps the first time in your life, you felt an inexplicable emotion creeping beneath your skin. It drove you to dig your fingers into the plush, sweat-soaked furs beneath you, restraining the impulse to pathetically wrap your arms around Sihtric's shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

Sihtric crushed down beside you, his breath ragged, and his strong arms instinctively encircled you, pulling your back flush against his chest as though he feared you might disappear.

"Will you stay with me?" a hoarse whisper brushed against your ear, igniting a new sense of life within you.

"I couldn't leave even if I wanted to," you chuckled softly.

"Do you want to?"

"No, I don't," you whispered, turning to face him.

"Good, because I don't want you to either," Sihtric murmured, pressing his lips against yours.

I'm sorry I never found the courage to say these words to you. I always thought there would be enough time for that.

I just hope you felt it, I hope you sensed it, how much I loved you. And I still do. I want you to know that will never change. I will always love you, until my very last breath.

Tears welled up in your eyes, falling onto the vellum before you.

Muffled noises from outside caught your attention, and you hastily rolled it up, inadvertently smudging the ink where your tears had fallen. Time was running out; you had to leave. There had always been rumours of Uhtred having his own spies in Bebbanburg, though no one had ever managed to prove them. Today, you had seen him - the blacksmith from Bebbanburg, here in Rumcofa, in Uhtred’s hall. You had tried to hide, but it had been too late. He had seen you, his eyes glued to your pale face, as your heart frantically drummed against your ribs. He had recognized you, just as you had recognized him, and in that moment when your eyes met, you knew your mission had reached its end.

It was too late to confess your true purpose for coming here. You had wanted to reveal your real identity so many times, but the right moment had never seemed to come. And now, it was too late. Your past life had caught up with you, its cold, bony fingers slowly closing around your throat. You didn’t want to leave, but you couldn't stay.

Silence, absolute silence enveloped you, devoid of any sound—no voices, no footsteps, no creaking doors. There was nothing to attract your attention, it was as if the world itself had stilled, allowing your thoughts to flutter through your mind like startled birds, beating against the cage of your consciousness. You had never imagined that silence could be so agonisingly painful, so suffocating.

He will not come! He hates and detests you! You deserve it! The cruel voice echoed in your head, driving you to cover your ears with your hands. Growls of frustration escaped your lips, reverberating against the thick walls of Bebbanburg's dungeon, as you attempted to silence the relentless taunting.

Bebbanburg had fallen, or rather, it had been reclaimed by its rightful owner. You had always known this moment would come, understood that Uhtred would never relinquish his birthright, his lands, or the fortress of his ancestors. You had simultaneously dreaded and longed for this day, aware that it would spell both your doom and your salvation. And now, it was a reality.

God as your witness, you had tried to forget him. You had attempted to banish him from your thoughts, to expel the longing from your mind. For a time, you had even believed you had succeeded, drowning your yearning and hunger for Sihtric's touch, for his commanding yet gentle voice whose orders you had been so eager to obey, for the stern yet loving gaze of his mismatched eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

But the moment you laid eyes on him and Finan on the upper walkway, flanked by guards, you knew it had all been an illusion. You knew you had failed utterly. Your hand shot up instinctively, covering your mouth to stifle the scream threatening to erupt from your chest. 

As if in a haze, you recalled following the guards, sneaking into the dungeon—this very dungeon whose walls you had been pounding in anger and despair for the past few hours, leaving your knuckles raw and bleeding. Then, like a bolt of lightning carrying God's wrath, like a spear hurled by an enemy's hand, it struck you. The coldness in Sihtric's gaze as he lifted his eyes from the lifeless bodies of the guards on the floor to meet yours froze the words forming on your lips, causing them to hang in the air before shattering into a thousand pieces upon the ground.

"You?" was the sole word that escaped Finan's lips as you swiftly cut through the ropes binding their hands, yet even that was laden with disdain and revulsion. You had shown them the way out, the concealed passage to the main hall, and they had left—no words exchanged, no glances shared, no turning back—just silence, relentless silence. The same oppressive silence lingered as Ælfwynn and Hild departed the fortress through the small, secret door you had revealed to them. Traitor, her eyes had silently screamed at you.

You could have fled, escaped, started anew far from this cursed fortress, far from everyone who governed your life. You could have been free. Yet, as tempting as it was, you knew there was no escaping yourself, no escaping the searing shame and longing that had gnawed at you from within all this time. You couldn't leave, not again.

It was Sihtric's hands that seized you, wrenching you to your feet and twisting your arms behind your back when they found you seated in the main hall, awaiting their arrival. You offered no resistance; the touch of him, even as his eyes blazed with hatred, sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed yourself to be dragged to the dungeon in silence. What could you say? How could you explain the inexplicable?

Leaning back against the cold and unforgiving stone wall, you felt the rugged surface digging into your skin even through your clothes as you slowly sank to the ground. Here you were, locked up in the dark and soundless cells beneath Bebbanburg, waiting for something you knew would never come. Closing your eyes, you let the silence envelop you, to become a part of you, to seep into your soul. You were alone, yet strangely, you felt free. No more lies, no more disguise. Just you.

A creaking sound reached your ears, and you slowly, almost unwillingly, opened your eyes to meet whoever had decided to disturb your silence.

“I should have known.” You’d always recognise his voice, wrapping itself around you like the warm summer breeze. But now it wasn’t warm, no, it was set on freezing you, leaving marks that would forever remind you of your betrayal. Your eyes watched his every move, wondering, perhaps even fearing, that he’d step even closer.

God, how could you have betrayed the man who owned your heart? Why did you keep quiet, when he was right there to hold you, to take away your pain? 

“A traitor, good for nothing. I should be ashamed that I touched you.” At first, his words hurt you, cutting deeper than the swords he had held before ever could. But the more you pondered on them, the more you found yourself focusing on the “should” that had rolled off his tongue. 

“Should?” It was just a whisper leaving you, and yet it was enough to draw a sigh from Sihtric. He unlocked the cell and stepped into the small space you were forced to call your own. 

“As much as I want to hate you for betraying my lord, for betraying my family, for betraying me I can’t. The Gods know how much I tried to.” Sihtric crouched down in front of you, his differently coloured eyes wandering over your features, unable to bite down the smile that tugged on his lips as you leaned closer. Carefully he cupped your cold cheek, pondering on his next move. 

“I am sorry, so very sorry.” All he did was hum, dipping his head down to kiss you. You knew that he wouldn’t forgive you easily, but yet you hoped that he’d learn to, no matter what it took, you’d do it if it meant regaining his trust. Within seconds you were pulled to your feet, front pressed against the cold stones, away from him. 

The whine rumbling through you left Sihtric chuckling, a sound so familiar and yet it dripped with something you weren’t used to, something dark, something that left your body covered in goosebumps. You wanted to look at him, it had been too many hours since you had last gotten the chance to, but Sihtric didn’t loosen his grip, not even as he freed you from the fabrics and leathers covering your body. 

“You’ll take my cock and you’ll thank me for it. It’s the least you can do.” The sob that left you was almost pathetic, torn between the arousal thumping through your veins and the fear holding you hostage. Would he ever forgive you? Would he ever ask you to tell your side of the story? Thoughts that were lost the second he pushed into you from behind. 

It had been too long since Sihtric had last touched you, and yet your body clung to him, begging him to keep on going, to fuck you like you were his. God, how much you wanted to be his, the one to care for, the one who’d hold you close whenever you needed him to. The way he moaned into your ear, hand placed over your mouth to keep you quiet, made you shudder in need. 

“Fuck, they could hang me for humping a traitor, but you feel too good, you always have.” His pleasure-drunken words made you clench around him, eyes squeezed shut to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks. This was your fault, your wrongdoing, and now you were paying the price, taking the cock of the man you loved, while he called you a traitor. 

You whimpered his name, unable to keep on speaking as his cock nudged against the swollen spot, making you see stars. With your hands pressed against the cold stones, you tried to ground yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out from the intense sensations, especially when he had you on your two feet. 

The sounds of your bodies meeting grew louder as Sihtric felt your orgasm nearing, already done for, set on pushing you over the edge. Tears now dripped from your eyes, guided by the intense pleasure only Sihtric made you feel. Another choked gasp left you as you came on his cock, begging him to follow. 

Sihtric came moments later, imprinting himself on your walls with a groan. The both of you were heavily panting, but while you had your eyes squeezed shut, Sihtric already pulled out of you, wordlessly redressing himself. Slowly you turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes glassy. 

You wanted to beg him for forgiveness, once again desperate to regain his trust, but he kept on studying you, wordlessly. And without another word leaving him, he turned from you, leaving you behind, with the cell unlocked. He was giving you a way out, a test, nothing more than a test. 

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

[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

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ favorite physical touch

pairing.uhtred, finan, sihtric, osferth & sigtrygger x female reader |genre. fluff, reactions? Idk what to call this | warnings. Touching and some kissing | wc. 692 |

synopsis. some sexy tlk men’s favorite physical touch with there girl

request. no

note. I got this cute idea when I was watching kitchen nightmares, weird right? i really want to write more for other characters, just need some suggestions 👩🏻‍💻 this is kinda short, but it’s sweet. Maybe I’ll make a part 2 in the future!

☆ UHTRED

laying his head on your chest

Uhtred loves laying his head on your chest, for multiple reasons. One, because it's very comfortable, being able to lay down and just close his eyes, feeling your warmth. The second reason is because he loves being able to hear the soothing beat of your heartbeat. He has lost so many people that he's loved in his life, so being able to have you close to him and knowing that you're there, that you're safe…that you're alive. It's very special to him. The two of you don't even have to talk, just lay in silence; in bliss in the bed, you two shares. It's very intimate. 

☆ FINAN

cuddling

Finan absolutely loves cuddling with you, he loves how close it makes the two of you become. It doesn't matter what position, as long as the two of you are as close as you can be, he's fine with it. Finan doesn't mind showing some public affection but the two of you mostly cuddle at home, in bed or his favorite place, the soft fur rug in front of the fireplace. Finan’s favorite part of his day is when the two of you wind down, and cuddle on the rug in front of the fire, drinking some ale and talking about your days. Sometimes he would even interrupt you to place a few kisses on your skin that was illuminated by the fire. It was peaceful, it was warm. 

☆ SIHTRIC

hugging you close

It was hard for sihtric to really find his favorite physical touch, there all his favorites. But the more he thought about it, he realized that hugging you was his favorite. He hugged you when he was sad, when he was upset, when he was happy. He loved hugging you; he loved being able to pull you close and wrap his arms around you. He loved the smile that would spread across your lips when he pulled you close to him, or how flustered and shy you would get when he would lean to whisper flirty comments in your ear. Either it was hugging you from behind or the front, he loved it. He also hugged you and left a kiss on your forehead before he would have to leave (and ofc a breathtaking kiss). There was just something about hugging you that gets him going. 

☆ OSFERTH

resting his head on you

Osferth is a shy boy, at first that is. He was too shy to show public affection towards you around others, so he left all that for when the two of you were alone. But he started noticing something that he did in public and private without realizing, and that had quickly become his favorite thing to do. And that was resting his head on you. When the two of you sat next to each other, he would rest his head on your shoulder and watch your side profile, taking in every detail about you that he could. He also liked resting his head in your lap, looking up at you or the sky, listening to you talk or just quietly relaxing to the feeling of you playing with his hair. He loved it so much; it was just so comforting to be like this with you. 

☆ SIGTRYGGR

kissing you

Okay, Sigtryggr is a very touchy lover, so it's hard to pick just one. But thinking about it more, he realizes that kissing you is his favorite physical touch. He does it quite a lot, like a lot. In the mornings he wakes you up by placing soft kisses all over your face and neck, he loves the way your nose scrunches in confusion and your eyes flutter open, only too sleepily smile when you realize what's happening. You would lose count with how many times he would kiss you through the day, on the lips, on the cheek and even on your hand. He likes to surprise you and kiss you on the cheek, alerting you of his presence. He likes grabbing your hand in his and kissing it gently as he keeps his eyes on you, he likes kissing your shoulder and neck from behind. And let's not forget the breathtaking kisses the two of you share. 

note: this was fun to write omg! This was my first time writing something for osferth, uhtred and sigtrygger. I want to write more for them, I have some ideas 👩🏻‍🍳

I’m honestly just re-falling in love with sigtrygger like omg 😩🤭

I know I haven’t gotten a full fic out in a whileee, but I just have been having trouble really focusing on a fic. But don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll get my grove back!

Like I said at the first note, this is pretty short but maybe I’ll make a part 2 in the future.

I hope you guys enjoyed this!

Please comment and tell me what you think of it, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Likes comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

taglist: @clairacassidy @mads-weasley @bubblyabs @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

copyright © 2023, all rights reserved. you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[arcielee]

Peace Beneath the City

Summary: Years have gone by and you receive a familiar visitor. Paring: Osferth x Female!Reader Word Count: 3052 Warnings: Smutty smut, we got season 5 Osferth coming in with the d that they were fighting over, oral (female receivng), p in v. 18+ MINORS DNI. Author’s Note: Thank you @aspen-carter​​ for being my beloved beta reader, seriously you all would unfollow my ass if I posted without her sage insight. Anyway, here is part 2 of Silver Coins as per the poll I posted! It’s smutty, it’s sweet, it’ll pull at your heartstrings (maybe). Enjoy! ♥  Dividers by @jaysdividers​ Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy @eddiemadmunson​ @schniiipsel​ @aaaaaamond​​ @tssf-imagines​​

The old man who owned the alehouse was considered a philanthropist for the growing city, an elder in this regard who would help with the affairs. You thought yourself fortunate that he was always kind to you and the other girls, with a sense of kinship for the mismatched gathering beneath the roof.

When he passed and it was known he had no children of his own, it brought forward a slew of greedy claimants who tried to take ownership of the tavern and by proxy the whorehouse below.

This was when you and the girls dared to step forward, bringing your combined silver saved from the years and demanded ownership, demanded your freedom and for the right to own yourselves. 

Their response was the threat of riots, their reverberation for violence rolled throughout the city and promptly died at the feet of Lord Uhtred and his men. Perhaps it was luck, or maybe the mercy of the gods, that they happened to arrive that day, intrigued by the city brimming with chaos. Lord Uhtred was quick to remind them of the faithful peonage served and how it should be rightfully rewarded with ownership; he then continued to boast of the sound mind you possessed and his faith for you to take on this vacant role. 

Most importantly, he told them that if they decided to keep the tavern still, that you, as well as the other women who rallied behind, would leave the city and return with them to Coccham. 

Your face was flushed and you had no words as you watched the title be signed to your name.

That night was a celebration for the new era in the city of Gloucester. The cups brimmed with ale and you were able to find Osferth in the crowd; it had been several months since the last night you spent with him and you felt the warmth pool between your thighs at the sight of him. You were bold to seat yourself in his lap and table cheered when you wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him in with a soft kiss; he grinned with your affection. 

He stayed with you that night and it was just as sweet as before with his same eagerness to please you. He was adamant to practice your trade secrets and you adored him for being quick to learn, responsive with your soft moans and hums for direction. 

You had been heartsore to see him leave and you declared that they were forever welcomed within the city walls. It was a new day to embrace new responsibilities and the decree let it be known that you and your own were protected by Lord Uhtred. 

The city of Gloucester was on the apex of the river Severn, at the cusp of Mercia and the crossroads where travelers, traders would pass back and forth from Wessex to Wéalas. You showed that you were savvy with your role and there was an unspoken accord that the city was a sanction, a place where Dane, Saxon, or other could come to trade, rest, drink, and fuck in peace. 

You became the revered Madam of the city and it began with you moving your belongings upstairs and renovating the downstairs amenities, having them cleaned and properly furnished. You were the known shrewd haggler, creating partnerships to guarantee stock, food and ale for your establishment and its residents. With the growing respect, you were able to convince space to be made and stalls created for the passerby merchants, which allowed the small economy to thrive. 

The city adored you and the peace continued, with a harmony that welcomed when Lord Uhtred returned. On this night, the tavern was thrumming with life and your eyes danced over the men, your cheeks flushed as you searched for him.

Lord Uhtred was seated at the head of one table, with his men around and some already partnered with your girls. You could see Sihtric, his hint of a smile as he drank his ale, and Finan with his cheeky grin, glowing as the ladies were vying for the attention of the handsome Irishman. 

And then you spotted him. 

There was maturity from the years that had passed. Baby monk, as you remembered Finan and Sihtric crowed, was no longer suitable for the man who entered. You noticed that his face had leaned, his features had hardened but that his cerulean blue eyes still twinkled when he saw the men. He held himself with a severe pride, his shoulders broader, perhaps from the years of fighting, but he still moved with the same grace as he weaved through the crowd and came to seat himself. 

You knew the years had changed you as well and with that thought, came that flutter of trepidation down your spine, though your steps still brought you towards where they all were now seated. Your hands were nervous and smoothed the silk of your wrap dress that hugged to your womanly curves; your curls were worn down and billowed with your walk. Your face was bare, as you no longer felt the need to paint it to appease men; in fact, you had not taken another man to your bed since the last time Osferth had been in the city and this was because…

Well, he was different. 

Despite your unease, there was also the warmth that coiled in your lower abdomen and gave a determination to your steps; you called out for their cups to be refilled and you were greeted with the uproarious response of Lord Uhtred and his men. You felt a hitch in your chest when you saw how his face glowed with his recognition, how his eyes watched you move to his side, a soft touch to his shoulder and you leaned forward to whisper in the shell of his ear, “My lord, you are welcome to stay in my bed this night, if it pleases you.” 

You watched him through your eyelashes, coy with your demeanor, and felt the flutter of pleasure as you watched the severity etched onto his features soften from your touch, how your words made him redden with your proposition. He looked into your eyes and you saw the same kindness as before, then he reached to pull you onto his lap. A giggle spilled from your lips and the men cheered even louder, drinking to good health, good fortune, and to good friends.

With the commotion, Osferth nuzzled into your neck and you felt the tickle of his lips to your ear, his voice low. “You are always a pleasure, my lady.” 

You shivered with delight at his words and there was a comfort against his chest, you felt almost girlish with how your feet almost touched the tavern floor from your seat in his lap. As the men regaled with tales of their adventures, you felt his large palm move around your waist and rest on the outside of your thigh, the gentle caress of his thumb. When you shifted your weight, you felt his hardness beneath your bottom and your cheeks grew rosy, a heat that pooled between your thighs. 

Osferth noticed the shade of red and when you looked into his eyes, his hand moved to squeeze the softness of your hip and he gave you a sly wink. 

The anticipation bullied you; it grew late and the men paired off, you were quick to slide from his lap and take his hand into your own, all but dragging him upstairs. Your face blushed again from the good natured catcalls from Finan, Sihtric, and the remaining company; your head remained high, but you stole a look to see the shy smile on his face as he followed your steps. 

Your room was cool from the night air that came through the windows, the soft flutter of fabric from the curtains you took care to hang. You turned on the ball of your foot to see him stop in the doorframe, bending over to remove his boots. 

Your hand moved to cover your smile, touched with his gesture, and he peered up at you, his face brightening with a grin of his own. He took care to set them by the door and your feet padded soft across the rugged floor; you pressed against his chest and tilted your chin up to find his lips.

They were soft and warm as you remembered; his large hands roamed your body, one that cupped the back of your neck to deepen the kiss and his other gripped into your hip. You moaned into his mouth and his tongue pressed forward to taste you, the slow motion to savor before his kisses trailed your jaw and fell to the junction of your neck. You sighed and melted flush against his chest when he nipped his teeth against your pulse, gooseflesh rippled over your skin that showed. 

“My lord,” you breathed, daring to tease him. “You kiss like a man starved.” 

He pulled back and you see the upward curl of his bow lips. “My lady,” his voice was low like before. “You, of all people, may simply call me Osferth.” 

Your eyes met with the brilliant blue of his own and you saw they still held that same genuineness as before; you reached to trace his jaw and stepped closer still, your lips finding his once again. 

His arms wrapped around the small of your waist and picked you up enough for your feet to not touch the floor; you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying his woodsy musk mixed with sweat and ale. 

Osferth was careful to eye the bed and his long steps brought you to the foot of it; you felt  his hold relax and once the floor was beneath you, your hands were quick to unfasten his embossed leather and help him remove the albe underneath. You stopped and allowed your eyes to wash over his matured form, the crimson returning to your cheeks.

His broad shoulders only emphasized his slender waist and there was a refined definition to his abdomen, the same tuft of hair across his chest. Your eyes looked over each healed scar that decorated him, as well as the sporadic placement of freckles from where the sun had kissed his pale skin.

That thought, the sight of him emboldened you and your touch was gentle, just a finger to trace the jagged line above his pectoral and you followed it with a kiss. He hummed his pleasure from the tickle of your lips and reached to catch under your chin, bringing your eyes to meet with his own and you see how his pupils swallowed the brilliant blue. 

“May I?” He asked and his large palms moved to rest on your hip, on the knot for your dress. He watched you, always adamant for your consent, and you smiled at him. Your hands rest on his own and you helped him untie, allowing the silk to spill onto the floor. 

It was his turn to admire you; his eyes looked over your curves, adoring how the silk chemise beneath clung to them, and widened at the sight of your nipples peaking beneath the soft fabric. 

His tongue wet his lips, your name a fervent prayer whispered and he pulled you into his arms, flushed against his bare chest and his lips tasting the curve of your neck. You made a noise that was a mixture of a giggle and a hum when his tongue trailed your collarbone, his hot mouth latched to the softness of your chest and left love bites. 

“Please, my lady,” you can feel his breath, how his lips curl with his words against your flesh. “Allow me to show you what I have been practicing.” 

Your eyebrow arched and he reached for your hem, pulling the silk over your head. You giggled again as your curls spilled onto your shoulders and you felt his large palms clasped onto your waist; there was a quick lurch when he pushed you to fall back against your bed. 

He grinned with your almost lyrical laughter, you were bright and flushed and he moved to climb on top of you, kissing every inch of you with a renewed hunger; a soft moan escaped you and his mouth moved lower, stopping only to nip at your hip bone before trailing towards your center. 

Osferth nuzzled between your thighs and you felt the blossom of blood when his tongue dragged along your wet slip, then pressed between the top folds and began to flit back and forth against your pearl. You mewled his name, gripping the bedclothes and pushing to your elbows to look down at him; your eyes fogged with pleasure and he pulled back, the dribble of spit that fell from his lips onto your cunt.  

He looked at you with a grin that dimpled his cheeks. “I find this better prepares the ladies…” but he trailed off, his focused return to move until his slender fingers touched the wetness with deliberate circles. 

Your question to the plural use of ladies died on your tongue, your head fell back against the bed with a moan to the gentle prod of his finger as if he was searching; a louder moan spilled from your mouth and you moved to muffle the sound, but his other hand caught your wrist. 

He shook his head. “It is just us,” the grin was still on his lips. “Let me know how this feels for you.” 

You were almost wanton from the pleasure that continued to build in your lower abdomen, more vocal with the second finger that curled sinfully within you. He paced himself, the momentum brought you to the precipice of your peak and then his mouth returned, suckling above your entrance. The simultaneous act had you seeing stars.

“Osferth,” you exhaled and he moved to climb on top of you, his mouth finding yours and you moaned from the taste of your release on his lips.  

You grabbed his shoulder and pushed him onto his back, your hands moved to the laces and helping him remove his breeches; he was bare and you straddled him, the slickness from your cunt trailed his cock and your palms were flat on him tensed abdomen, holding yourself as he shifted to line up with your silken folds. 

Though the stretch was not as severe as the other times, there was still the unmistakable fullness as he slowly sheathed himself into your cunt. You felt the warmth of his palms on your thighs, how they grabbed into their softness and his eyes were watchful for your response, allowing you to adjust.

You realized your fingers dug into the solid plans of his abdomen and you exhaled before you slowly began to rock your hips into him.

He relaxed with your movement, a guttural groan from the back of his throat as he reached deep within your wet heat. You clenched in response, his jaw tensed and his eyes fluttered while your own soft noises came with how he hit your sweet spot.  

His hands moved to grab your hips and the rhythm quickened, the coil in your stomach tightened with each pleasurable thrust and your cunt clenched. 

You almost whined with its abrupt stop; he pushed himself up and rolled you onto your back, with kisses that tickled your bare chest as he cradled into your hips, pushing into you once more. Your back arched, your fingernails bit into his shoulder and you sighed when his hands came to rest on your hips, rutting into you and the rhythm returned to press upon your sweet spot. 

His pace began to build towards your second release and your cunt fluttered around him; he groaned, his hand shifted and his thumb pressed against your bud with a familiarity, matching with the brutal pace of his hips. His touch was the push over, the rolling pleasure causing you to clench with your own release and he followed.

There was a tenderness in the moment, with the slouch of his posture and how it allowed his damp brow to touch against your own. You closed your eyes and enjoyed how your breaths synchronized, enjoying his woodsy musk with sex. When your heartbeat settled, you opened your eyes and he pulled back, the returned curl of his lips and a sweet kiss before he allowed you to move from beneath him.  

The basin was filled and you took care to hand him a damp cloth; he was careful to wipe himself and he laid on his side, waiting for you to return. His arm reached to pull you close, to rest your head in his chest and cuddle beneath the quilts; it was the same comfort you remember, the gentle thrum of his heart to your ear. 

After a moment, he asked, “My lady, do you ever feel we may have been destined for one another?”

This was a thought you would revisit over the years, whenever you rekindled the shared intimacy of the few nights you two had spent together. Reality always brought you back, for you knew he was damn near a nomad and driven by his bastard status to create something all his own. It was a plight you could relate to, as whoring had not been your own life’s ambition, but you had been able to create from it, a life of comfort and a kinship with the girls. 

A haven all your own. 

“I believe,” you began, your voice soft and words slow to form on your tongue. “That we all each have our destiny to follow and that we are lucky enough for our paths to cross, from time to time,” and you turned your head, pressing your lips to the underside of his jaw and against his neck, savoring his scent that would linger on your sheets when he would leave you once again. “Please know that you are always welcome whenever you return.”

He did not say anything, but wrapped his arms tighter around and hummed his acknowledgement. You closed your eyes again and relaxed against him, enjoying the soft touch of his fingers as they drew circles on your backside.

arcie’s masterlist  

[little-diable]

Ragnarök - Sihtric (smut)

This was written for @whitedarkmoonflower since they won my 15k celebration as a reader! I hope you enjoy this as much as I do, lovie! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading his, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: After a brutal fight Sihtric can’t find his lover in the crowd of knights he fought with, praying to the gods that the female warrior he loved was still alive.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, a bit of angst, but mainly focused on their relationship

Pairing: Sihtric x fem!warrior!reader (1.8k words)

Picture from Pinterest, credit to the original owner

„There the dim dragon will come in flight, the glittering serpent, from Dark Mountains below. Bearing corpses in its feathers, as it soars over the plain, the Dark-Striker. Now she will sink down.“ - Völuspá: The Prophecy, Ragnarök

The battlefield was muddy, blood stuck to Sihtric’s features, arms, and armour. A sight that would leave any person who had never stood on a battlefield frightened, a sight Sihtric was all too used to. The fight had been brutal, no longer held back by rules, laws even knights would follow in battle, no, it had been awfully primal, watching men choke on their blood, swords and axes piercing hearts, stomachs, and lungs. 

But even though Sihtric found a sick sense of satisfaction swapping through him whenever he killed an enemy of theirs, he no longer managed to focus on the victory he should be celebrating with his friends and brothers. All Sihtric could focus on was trying to find her amongst the still-breathing soldiers, praying to his gods that she was alive. 

Panic began to swap through him as time kept ticking by, without any sight of her, the one his heart called out to, the one that had claimed Sihtric as hers many moons ago. (Y/n), the one he shared his bed with, the female warrior that had stolen Sihtric’s heart the first time their paths had crossed. He had instantly been drawn to her, admiring the fire burning in her eyes, the teasing words rolling off her tongue all too easily, she had been one of them from the first moment on, a warrior others looked up to.

Sihtric didn’t pick up on the call of his name, not caring about the way Finan tried to hold onto him, all too aware of his friend’s panicked state. The Irishman kept murmuring his name, hands covered in mud and blood, just like Sihtric, grasping his leather armour to stop his friend from carelessly stumbling over corpses of once honourable men and their horses. 

“Sihtric, look at me.” Finan eventually managed to catch Sihtric’s frantic gaze, allowing the man to catch his breath as his heart raced in his chest, urged on by the fright clinging to him. “What is with you?” 

“(Y/n), I can’t find her, I-” a cry wanted to claw through the once so fearless man, not used to being guided by his emotions like he was in that very moment. “Finan, where is she? She can’t be dead.”

“We’ll find her, I am sure she’s also trying to find you.” Finan let go of his friend, turning towards Osfeth with his head tilted towards his right, wordlessly trying to tell the young monk to follow the two. No further word was spoken as they combed through the endless seeming blanket of corpses, flipping some that had a similar build and hair colour like (y/n), praying every single time that it wasn't her. 

“What if she was taken? Gods, Finan, I left her alone, I wasn’t there for her.” Neither Osferth nor Finan was used to hearing Sihtric speak words this uneasy, clearly struggling with the fear he was held hostage by. No reply was spoken as Finan focused on something, or rather someone, unable to bite down his smile as he forced Sihtric to look in the same direction.

With a gasp rumbling through Sihtric, he took off running, pressing his sword into Finan’s hands before he left them behind. His body collided with (y/n)’s, pulling her into his chest with a relieved sigh leaving him. Sihtric’s lips kept kissing her forehead, trying to prove to himself that she was alive, held close to his heart, not leaving him any time soon.

“I thought I’d lost you, don’t ever leave me like that again.” His murmured words left (y/n) chuckling, shifting her weight to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. They could taste one another’s emotions, tongues tangled, hearts beating in unison, finally able to breathe through their fear, their pain. 

“I am sorry, I don’t know how I got lost in the crowd. I’m alright, I promise.” Her eyes flickered to Finan’s and Osferth’s approaching frames, shooting them a quick smile before she pressed another kiss to Sihtric’s lips, whispering a soft “I’d never leave you like that”.

……

The moon stood high in the dark sky, reflecting in the cold water currently teasing their limbs. Sihtric held (y/n)’s naked frame to his equally bare skin, still shaken up by the way he had looked for her hours ago, unable to let go of his uneasiness. 

No words were spoken as they cleaned themselves, removing the reminders of a brutal but successful battle. Another victory men, women, and children would talk about for centuries to come, they were sure of it. 

But even though the others had tried to pull the two lovers into their traps, wanting to celebrate their victory with endless pours of ale, neither Sihtric nor (y/n) had been in the mood to spend time with those they loved like their family. Sihtric had pulled (y/n) away from the crowd at the first chance, needing to feel her close with a sober mind and clear thoughts. 

“I have never felt more frightened than today, the thought of finding you dead because I wasn’t there to protect you-“ Sihtric choked on his words, having to force his teeth into his lower lip to stop his cries from clawing through him. A facade (y/n) saw through all too easily, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

The kiss wasn’t as heated, as forceful as the one they had shared on the battlefield, but it had something equally emotional to it, transmitting their every longing. A soft moan left (y/n) as Sihtric’s strong hands found her behind, pulling her against his hardening cock. She held a special kind of magic over the man, making waves of lust thump through his veins at any given chance, his very own Ragnarök, the chaotic end of his world, and those the gods had crafted for themselves.

“Sihtric,” she mewled his name, movements slowed by the river, needing a few moments till their legs finally found their way around his waist. His cock rubbed against her folds, making both hiss in anticipation, knowing that this night would yet be another one filled with endless orgasms, with their insatiable desire for one another driving them on. “I need you, need to feel you, need to make sure that you’re still here, with me.”

Sihtric forced her into another kiss as he started walking towards the meadow leading up the hill, shielded by the darkness from any drunken men and women that may find their way down to the river. A gasp managed to leave (y/n) as he placed them down, pinning her against the ground with his weight on top of hers, not leaving any space between them. 

“You’re mine, my woman, my warrior, till the day I die. I’ll never leave your side again, just the thought of losing you makes me want to end my own life. No day is worth living if I don’t get to share it with you.” The words Sihtric whispered against her swollen lips drew tears to (y/n)’s eyes, staring at her man with love and longing swimming in her pupils, only ripped out of her trance as she felt his calloused fingertips on her pulsing bundle. 

Expectedly he circled the soft flesh, finding enjoyment in the sounds she let go of, begging him for more, needing to feel him buried deep inside of her. There was no need for any words, nothing would ever manage to describe what they felt for one another, what they needed to do to give in to their longings. 

With his eyes burning through hers, Sihtric aligned his cock with her entrance, slowly pushing into her after he coated himself with her arousal. He took his time, wanting to savour every moment, wanting to hear the gasps leaving his lover as he sank even deeper into her, still having to adjust to the stretch after all these months. And only after (y/n) managed to choke on his name did he allow himself to properly take care of her, set on a ferocious rhythm that made both their hearts race in excitement. 

Profanities left Sihtric as he interlaced his hands with hers, pinning them over her head to keep her in place. He needed to control the moment, especially after a day like this, a day where he had gotten a glimpse into a future he wanted to avoid at every cost, needing to change their fate as he still had the power to do so. She was his end and his beginning, a story that had found its beginning in Muspell, the place not even the strongest souls had managed to endure, but no matter the biting heat, he’d walk through it all if it meant getting to love her. 

“Look at me, Sihtric.” (Y/n) forced his piercing eyes to focus on her, feeling his thoughts start to wander as the speed of his rough thrusts momentarily began to falter, needing to catch him before he could slip into a realm filled with darkness. “I’m here, with you. Nothing and nobody can ever change that, I’m with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

With her head being lifted from the ground, she kissed him, taking over the control to flip them around, straddling his lap. Both were desperate for their release, needing to feel that blinding sensation they were aching for. Sihtric kept watching her, marvelling at her, admiring her with his hands wandering up her frame, cupping her naked breasts. 

The way he pinched her hardened nipples forced her to arch her back, head rolling back to let go of a deep, gritty moan. Sihtric could have come from the sound alone, having to stop himself from giving in as he felt her walls flutter around him. He watched her fuck herself on his twitching cock, sneaking one hand down her frame to rub her bundle. 

And with the call of his name, (y/n) came, scratching at his naked chest with the intense feeling racing through her body. Once again she found herself pressed to the ground as Sihtric searched for his high, fucking into her even faster than before. He came with a gasp, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. A sight so beautiful (y/n) wanted to freeze the passing by moments, forever needing to remember this very second. 

“I love you, and nothing will ever change that Sihtric Kjartansson.”

[helaelaemond]

To Take Pleasure

Pairing: Osferth x female reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You share a lazy and passionate morning with Osferth. Oneshot pwp, established relationship.

Content warning(s): light edging, mild elements of very soft dom!Osferth, mentions of faith

Rating: E

Requests open

tagging: @sylas-the-grim / @myfandomprompts / @arcielee

small note: thank you so much for the encouragement and kind words on my last Osferth piece, it honestly means the world to me, thank you so so so so much. I read every tag and comment multiple times giggling and kicking my feet!

The morning is quiet. It is raining outside and the noise of it is comforting. It feels like home. Inside the bed chamber, only two creatures move. In the small bedroom, atop the warm bed, Oseferth winds his hand into your hair.

You lay under him and your whole body moves with the rhythm of your coupling. One leg is pulled up at your side on the firm mattress, allowing him to fill you from behind. He lays atop you, his back arched, and thrusts into you at a steady pace. Osferth gently pulls on your hair, and you lift your head up with a quiet moan.

“Oh, my lady,” he whispers against your ear. “Yes, just like that.”

You sigh and grind your hips against the bed in time with his movements. “Touch me,” you breathe.

“Aren’t I touching you enough?” he asks with a smile, and to illustrate his point, he lets go of your hair and runs a flat palm down your side.

Laughter catches in your throat and turns into another sigh of delight when he presses his hand under your chest and teases your nipple between his fingers. “Not there.”

His lips are still at your ear. “Tell me where, my lady. I’d like to hear you say it.”

When Osferth slows his movements to an intolerably slow pace, you swear quietly. “You know where I want you.” You drop your weight onto the bed and turn your head to the side, but it isn’t enough to see him. Your breathing begins to calm in this moment of respite.

“I do.” Osferth pulls out of you carefully and rests his cock on the crease of your backside. He is slick from you, and he moves against you. It makes his eyes roll back. “But I want this to last longer. You’re too close for that.”

You bite your lip. You prop yourself up on your forearms, and you raise your hips in an invitation. Osferth rises to his knees behind you and slips himself along your cunt. You both make noises of approval when his tip glides over your clit. Reaching between your legs, you press him between your folds and run his tip in circles where you want him. The tension in your lower stomach grows, and there are noises in the back of your throat with every breath.

“Easy, love,” Osferth soothes with a smile. Your pleasure is enough to have him crashing, but he means what he said. He wants it to last longer.

You let him go with a sigh.

“Are you ready?” he asks as he guides himself back to your entrance. He presses gently.

You whimper and nod, and you reach back a hand to find him. He weaves your fingers together and slides back inside you. “Oh God,” Osferth swears. The delight of it forces his eyes shut. “You feel so wonderful, my love. Oh, yes, you’re so good.”

You push yourself up, so you're both kneeling, his chest at your back, and you wind the hand you hold around you until his arm embraces you tightly. “Please don’t stop again,” you beg between gasping moans. “I’ll die!”

He chuckles, and the noise is broken by his own moans. “Then I won’t. Oh, love.”

With one hand still in yours, Osferth runs the other up to your neck, and he carefully grasps it, and he turns your head until he can kiss you. You part your lips eagerly, and you swallow his noises of delight and run your tongue over his as you fuck.

“Touch me,” you beg after a while. The only noises that sing above the rain outside are that of your coupling that has become more desperate. “Please, Osferth! I’m so close.”

He slams into you once, twice more, and suddenly pulls out from you with a groan. You fall forward onto the bed with a shout of frustration, and Osferth flips you onto your back before you can find release with your own hand. He drags you until your legs hang off the side of the bed, and then he is on his knees in front of you and his tongue is trailing up the inside of your thigh. “Don’t misbehave,” he tells you with a chuckle.

The frustration of your denied orgasm has your muscles tensing and releasing, and tears prick your eyes. But you like this game. You ask for it. You fling your arm over your eyes and nod, thighs twitching.

Osferth kisses up to your hip and then back down to your cunt, where he tastes the salt that has pooled to welcome him. He glances up at you and raises his head as he smiles. “My good lady.”

"My good Osferth." Your reply is strained, but it makes your heart leap to see how brightly it makes him smile. You run your fingers through his hair, and when you gently press the back of his head, he follows where you lead. His soft lips press between your legs and you sigh.

It makes your toes curl as he licks a long line from your clit down to your entrance; he uses the flat of his tongue to apply pressure, before ghosting the tip against you again and again. You hear his quiet gasp of need, and it's followed by the sensation of his tongue pressing inside you. He keeps his lips over his teeth as his tongue sinks deeper, and surely he can feel your heartbeat against his chin. On his tongue, you feel yourself getting fucked. He tilts his sharp jaw up, and you grind down to meet him, and there, yes, there, his pretty nose catches your clit.

"Fuck!" The word escapes you before you can stop it. Osferth is not one to use profane language. But he does not seem to be one to take a woman on his tongue, yet here he is.

Your legs press against his ears, and you manage to look down to see how proudly he wears your thighs as his crown. A bastard son of a king, looking so pretty, anointed by your cunt on his lips. His tongue is firmer now, and he presses it over your slit and to your clit. It makes your back arch. It makes your head thrash from side to side. He's good, he's so good to you, it makes you feel holy-

"You're perfect," you whine between gasps and moans. "Look at me!"

Without needing to ask twice, his eyes open and burn into you. He beholds you as he devours you, eyes round and blue, worshipful. Your brow furrows as pleasure mounts and mounts, and your mouth opens in laughter and delight. "Don't stop!"

Suddenly he's sucking around you and humming lowly, and it's almost enough to push you over the edge.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't-!"

And he does. Just as he brings you to the brink, he pulls off you with a pop, his mouth wet and cheeks and chin glistening. It makes you twist and turn in frustration, and your eyes stream in frustration.

"Fuck you!"

He chuckles lowly and lies on top of you, his whole weight pressing you into the little bed. "This is what you asked for," he reminds you. Your legs are clamped shut under him, and so you can feel his hard cock, hot and throbbing, trapped between his stomach and yours.

You look up at him with watering eyes and defiance. But his expression is so soft and sweet, so delighted, that it soothes you. After a moment, you return his smile, although you can't stop yourself from whining slightly with every breath. "I did. You're right. But please... I need you."

"You have me, my lady."

In this brief pause, tenderness mingles with absolute desire, and you can see the deep affection he holds for you. You kiss him, and he welcomes your hungry tongue into his mouth with a strong hand on your cheek. There is a warm wetness against your stomach. He's so wound up for you, he's leaking and desperate. But he has more composure than you - he always does.

"Finish me," you beg against his lips. "Finish us."

Your words make him groan. He runs his hand from your cheek and down your side, squeezing your waist. "Onto your side, my lady."

He lifts himself up from the bed and watches you do as he asks, and then he settles behind you. Your back presses against his chest, and your head drops to the side when he kisses your neck adoringly. With a sure touch, he hooks his hand under the back of your knee, and he lifts it to give him the room to slide back inside of you.

"Ah, my lady." He moans against your ear as he finds himself home in you again. You like it when he moans. You told him this once, and it took him a while to get used to. It took practice. But now, although it's quiet, he gives you those noises. His mouth is against your ear, and his sighs and grunts and moans fill your senses. Between your legs, his cock fills you, too.

He winds his arm further around your leg to keep it lifted as his fingers touch your cunt again. They ghost over where your bodies join, and they catch your wetness and rub firm circles over your clit.

"Yes," you whine. "There."

The bed creaks under you as his pace quickens. The noises of his skin slapping against yours are obscene, and the groans of your name from Osferth mingle with them. He groans your name again and again like a prayer, like it's sacred. To him, perhaps it is. To him, you are sacred.

You fling your hand back to press against his slender hip as together, you climb higher and higher, and he reaches his peak first. He presses his cheek against yours where you lay, and the gesture itself feels as intimate as anything else you have shared. His whole body tightens closer to yours as his hips stutter and his eyes roll back and he pulls out just in time. Against your backside he grinds, and you feel his seed shoot hot up your back. His fingers still work you hard and fast, and as he comes down from his peak, you reach yours.

Your whole body jerks as you finally find your orgasm. Your legs clamp shut around his hand but he doesn't release you - his fingers dig into you and massage you until you whimper and squirm, until finally all the tension is released. His hand remains there, but it stops moving. As your cunt twitches in aftershocks, he holds it firm, keeping you stable, keeping you comfortable.

"Oh, Osferth," you pant. He sighs your name in reply. When your body begins to cool, and you return to yourself a little more, you roll onto your stomach and pull his pillow under your head. Your eyes close in bliss.

He gets up from the bed but returns before you have much of a chance to miss him. You feel him wipe a damp cloth over your back. It makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He always looks after you so well. "Thank you."

A few more moments pass, and then the mattress sinks next to you, and you feel him lie next to you. A gentle touch traces up your spine. He begins drawing shapes on your skin with a single finger. Eyes still closed, you smile. A kiss is pressed against your shoulder. Then, to your neck, and your cheek. Finally, Osferth leaves a tender kiss on your lips.

"You are very dear to me," he murmurs.

Your eyes open slowly, and you meet his blue gaze. "You're very dear to me, too."

He whispers your name, and kisses you gently again. "I didn't know..."

"What, Osferth?"

He mulls his words over before speaking them. He runs his knuckles along your cheek tenderly. "I didn't know that pleasure could feel like this."

"Like what?" you ask, smiling slightly.

"Like holiness."

You glance at his lips. How pretty they look when he whispers, and how pretty they look now as he licks them, waiting nervously for your answer. You can't stop yourself from kissing them before replying. "You make me feel holy, Osferth."

"As you do me." He murmurs your name, and strokes your hair. "I don't want to leave this room. I want to stay with you today."

"Then stay." Your voice is quiet, as sleep is calling you. "Don't leave me. Please don't ever leave me."

He smiles and kisses your cheek. "I'll do my best, my lady. I'll do my best to always be yours."

[the-common-cowgirl]

The Lost Children -

Part 4

Summary: The group embarked on their mission only to be spotted by two of Brida’s scouts as they crossed into Mercia. A chase ensues and you are injured. Osferth cares for your injury and you both let pent up feelings free. Only, Osferth comes to his senses.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of Animal Death, Blood, Injury, Fluff, Angst, Kissing, period typical slut shaming, religious guilt, mentions of arousal, heavy petting.

Word Count: 3.5K

“Don’t put that thing near me or I’ll bite it off, so help me G-“

You were cut off with Finan shoving a cloth into your mouth, gagging you.

“You need to be quiet when we mend your leg, girl.” Finan exclaimed with a hushed, hurried tone in the low bank you were in.

Of course you knew you needed to be quiet. Two of Brida’s scouts had spotted the group as you made your way into Mercia. This resulted in a small chase. Your old, bay horse tripped on a tree root in the chase, causing you to go flying from the horse and hurt your leg. The Dane scouts would have caught up to you lying on the ground and captured you if Osferth had not spun his horse around and lifted you into his saddle, successfully escaping the nearing scouts.

And now, you were in a low bank, with a cloth wrapped tightly around your head and through your teeth with Eadith hiking your skirt up so high that Osferth and Sihtric excused themselves for your modesty. Uhtred of course was busy keeping an eye out for the scouts if they should find the group.

A sharp stick was stuck under the skin of your thigh, poking the muscle. Enough so that when Eadith tried to pull it out, you kicked at her with your free leg, missing her by an inch. She must’ve been used to her patients retaliating, you thought between the surges of pain.

“Finan, grab her other leg,” Eadith ordered. As soon as he had hold of your other ankle, Eadith pulled with enough force that had you reeling in pain. Your hands flew on their own to push her off of you; this time you didn’t miss and she landed on her bottom in mud, painting the arse of her dress brown .

Clearly frustrated, “Go get someone to hold her hands too,” she barked at Finan who obeyed without hesitation, quickly jogging to where the men were. In little time, he came back with Osferth who had his eyes downcast, trying not to look at your exposed legs that neither Eadith or Finan seemed to give a second thought about. “Sit behind her and hold her arms tight.”

Osferth began to object behind you but Eadith shut him down immediately, “She is loosing a great deal of blood and she somehow has enough energy to keep fighting us.” Eadith’s lack of patience had Osferth obeying her order without objections this time. You felt Osferth move behind you to sit and he gently brought your hands behind your back as a cool sweat started to form on your brow and your gaze started to go hazy.

His soft grip felt comforting around your wrists but as Eadith tried again to pull the stick, your hands flew free of his hold and you tried to shove her again, this time, Osferth’s forearm reached around your front and pulled you flush against him. “Sorry,” he muttered - you were unsure if he was speaking to you or Eadith for lacking at his task.

Eadith had grown frustrated. “I cannot try many more times before the stick is too slick with blood to pull! Osferth, hold her tightly. Do not let her go. Same for you Finan.” Then her eyes turned on you, “For Heavens sake girl, stop resisting help.”

Your vision was darkening and you felt a strong hold on your wrists behind you, painfully so. It distracted you momentarily from the pain of the stick wedged into your thigh being ripped from your body. Every touch felt delayed or distant and you were vaguely aware of a muffled scream then it being cut short by a hand over your mouth. You head spun as the world tumbled forward and the last thing you heard was Osferth saying, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

The world went black.

Your eyes felt heavy and a dull ache throbbed in your head as you were jolted awake. Slowly opening your eyes, you were met by a dimmed sky. Slowly realizing you were in the back of a covered wagon laying in the softest bed of furs you had ever slept on. Lifting your head took great effort due to the absence of your energy but when you did, you saw the back of Osferth’s head. As if he knew you were awake, he looked back at you and a smile broke across his face. He pulled the horse up to a halt and shouted for the group to do the same as he moved from the seat to the back of the wagon where you lay.

“How are you feeling?” He asked and took your hand, absentmindedly feeling for a stronger pulse but the action had your heart fluttering just a bit at how concerned he was for you.

“Heavy,” you replied as your head unceremoniously fell back into the soft furs. His thumb now brushed against your wrist gingerly. “Where did you get a wagon?”

“Sold your horse for meat to a nearby village to get the wagon.” Your eyebrows furrowed together in sadness as you looked at him. He gave a sorrowful look, “I’m sorry. I thought you didn’t care for the beast.”

“He was a good mount, he didn’t deserve death.” You were surprised at how your heart betrayed you and began to mourn for the old, ugly gelding.

“He was worse off than you after the fall. He welcomed death like an old friend after the pain he was in.” Osferth’s words made you feel better, knowing the bay was given a merciful death.

“He broke his leg?”

“Aye, lady.”

“Osferth, if I ever hurt myself so badly, make sure you give me a merciful death as well.” Your words were soft and true, he knew you weren’t speaking with sarcasm or anger like your normally did. You seemed too weak for that.

Your eyes were growing heavy again as you felt the wagon rock a little and Eadith’s voice, “She awoke?” Your eyes now closed but you knew Osferth nodded.

“She’ll make it then. She’s past the worst of it.” Eadith reassured him.

Sleep was beginning to embrace you again, despite its return, you were keenly aware of Osferth’s soothing thumb over your pulse.

“What about her fever,” he asked, quietly as if not to stir you.

Eadith was silent for a while before she answered him. “You’re a man of God, Osferth, pray.”

When you awoke again, the air was cool and there was no light but a flickering fire some distance away. You realized you had woken to the wagon shaking, someone was climbing in but you were too tired to care.

Your eyes found Osferth’s and he looked startled that you were awake but the shock soon faded as a smile spread across his face. You returned a weak smirk and you could almost see his heart flip.

“I - uh- brought you some stew.” He moved with a bowl and sat with his legs crossed beside your head. Setting the bowl down on the even wooden surface of the wagon that did not make up your soft bedding, he moved to help you prop yourself up. As you did so, your leg throbbed with a dull, burning pain and your head pounded. You could hear the group at the fire some distance away but could not see them due to the privacy the covered wagon offered.

Osferth smiled and grabbed the bowl., dipping the wooden spoon into the stew and gently blowing on it to make sure it wouldn’t burn you. The action was tender, sweet, foreign. You offered him a weak smile and he brought the spoon to you lips. As you slowly sipped the stew, you grew uncomfortable at the action of someone else feeding you, making you nearly lose your appetite. Once the first spoonful was gone and Osferth went in for a second scoop, you stopped him.

“I think I can feed myself,” you said trying to hide your discomfort.

Osferth furrowed his brows, “Are you sure? I can-“

“Yes,” you cut him off, “I’m certain of it.” You said with a little too much finality to be pleasant.

Osferth dropped his smirk a little and offered the bowl and spoon to your weakened hands. Feeding yourself took a bit more care as you were greatly reduced in strength, but you felt more comfortable this way.

Once you finished, you felt incredibly full and offered the bowl and utensil back to Osferth. “Did you like it?” He asked with a proud expression on his face.

You nodded, “Yes.” You willed yourself to be pleasant despite feeling as though you might vomit from how uncomfortably full your stomach felt.

“I made it.” He admitted with a smile, “I used to make it back in the monastery and the brothers devoured it.”

“Back in the nunnery, I was barred from the kitchens.” You admitted to him with a laugh as your stomach was easing down. You were grateful to share a similarity in your upbringing that wasn’t a sour memory.

Osferth laughed, “But why?”

“The sisters believed I was a cook of the devil for everything I cooked, somehow burned.” You laughed at the memory and Osferth laughed with you. It was a warming feeling; to feel humor again.

“So what were your chores at the nunnery?” He kept his bright eyes on you joyfully, simply happy that you were happy.

You huffed a short laugh through your nose, “To stay out of the way.” You both giggled at that. Once you recollected yourself, “Or gathering. I’m quite a good gatherer,” you admitted with pride.

Osferth raised his brows, “Oh really? Did you acquire that skill whilst doing your first chore?”

You tilted your head at his joke and eyed him in disbelief, “Did Osferth make a jest?” You both laughed. Once the laughing died down, you two just stared at each other in bliss, happy to be in the other’s company.

Then, a wave of realization washed over Osferth abruptly, and he shifted in sitting position. “Uh I forgot, I need to,” he stammered, suddenly uncomfortable, “Eadith is-“ he began, “Lady Eadith is busy. She asked me to,” he tripped over his words. “Lady Eadith asked me to clean your wound tonight.”

You gave a short chuckle at the reason for his sudden change in demeanor. “What must you do to it?” You asked, trying to sound like Osferth hiking up your skirt did not excite you.

Osferth began to blush. “Clean the would with a wetted rag and pour this over it,” he produced a small bottle of what you assumed was strong ale from a pouch that hung on his hip.

You nodded and reached for the hem of your now patched skirt. Osferth’s hand came to yours mid-grasp. “Wait, I’ll do it. I have to go get the rag wet in the river below.”

You nodded and Osferth left quickly. Your heart beat wildly at what was about to happen. You didn’t care about the prospect of pain from cleaning, just the mere thought that Osferth was going to see you immodestly had a light sweat breaking out over your body.

When he returned, you were still propped up, nervously biting your nail. Osferth settled next to your leg without a word, water droplets running between his slender fingers and down the bony knuckles of his hand. “May I?” He asked, bringing you from your trance.

“Yes,” you replied, not knowing what you agreed to let him do but knowing you’d most likely let Osferth do anything to you he so desired. You could almost hear the nuns that raised you calling you a harlot but you didn’t care in the wake of Osferth’s light touch at your ankle.

Osferth grasped the hem of your skirt and lifted your dress, keeping a hand on your other covered leg to protect your modesty and only reveal to him what he needed to see in order to clean your wound, nothing else. He rested the raised skirt on the bone of your hip and just below your undergarments. You kept his gaze trained on your wound; definitely not on your long, slender legs you were, for some reason, bending at the knee ever-so-slightly.

The wet rag moved against your wound and you sucking in a sharp breath. Osferth looked at you in terror, horrified that he hurt you more.

When the stinging subsided, you let out an uncomfortable, strained laugh, “Have you been doing this when I’ve been asleep? Not used to me being in pain?”

He shook his head, running the rag along your wound again gently, “No, Lady Eadith has been tending to you. This was the first time I was asked.” He moved the rag against you again, causing you to tense once more.

You let your head fall back, not wanting to look at the swollen pink wound anymore that you knew was infected from the discolored ooze Osferth was wiping away.

“That should do it,” Osferth announced to himself after some time of the cold rag gently caressing your wound. You heard the bottle uncork and prepared yourself for the worst of it. You remembered helping tend to wounds in the nunnery, when the alcohol was poured over the infected wounds, the girls would scream.

I will not scream, you told yourself, I am stronger than they were.

“This might hurt,” Osferth warned. Suddenly, the cold of the liquid touched your wound and you began to let out a squeal that had Osferth putting his hand over your mouth to silence you.

When it was over and the stinging subsided, he released his hand. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly, “We are in Dane Land. We need to be quiet.”

You scoffed, “Tell the ones around the fire that.” You could still hear some of them talking even at this distance away. You pulled yourself back up to sit against the wagon sideboards.

Osferth bristled at your returning unpleasant attitude but did not say anything. He turned to set the bottle of strong ale at the front of the wagon. When his face found yours again briefly, then his cheeks turned the color of roses and he would not meet your eye, looking down to his hands.

Suddenly you realized your skirt was still hiked up to fully expose your injured leg and the tiniest glider at your undergarment. You began to chuckle at Osferth’s discomfort.

“Have you never seen a naked woman before Osferth?” You pulled your skirt down to cover yourself and he finally met your eye.

“What sins I have committed do not matter for it’s your innocence I am trying to protect.” He looked down to his hands again, they were clasped together.

Now he made you blush and you were glad he was not looking at you to see it. You liked the feeling his words gave you deep in your stomach, so you chased this feeling. “Who is to say I am innocent?” You smirked playfully.

Osferth slowly raised his brilliant blue eyes to connect with yours, eyeing you almost like a predator to find your jest hidden within your face but you were rather good at composing your lies. “Have you been with a man?” His voice was deeper, quieter, softer. You watched his tongue dance behind his teeth as he waited for your response.

Your lungs stopped working for what felt like a lifetime before you could collect yourself. Something about his aura, the way he asked you had you in a trance, you couldn’t lie now even if you wanted to. “No,” you breathed out, “I grew up in a nunnery. There wasn’t a chance.”

Osferth returned his vision to his hands once more, as he fiddled with a loose thread on his clothes. He seemed to be deep in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about in this moment. You longed to get inside his mind and pick it, to know if he imagined you under him. The mere thought of such an act gave way to an uncomfortable want at the apex of your thighs and you decided to do as you always did: not hold back.

“What are you thinking about?”

He met your eyes, and again, he had a deep look of desire in his blue eyes. He took in a quick breath. “I do not wish to tell you what I was - am thinking.” He looked down again, “I should repent.”

“You were thinking of me?” Your voice was soft like a gentle breeze through a field of wildflowers on a warm summer morning. Osferth considered in that moment you might be a living, breathing, walking siren for how you could sound so sweet when he knew you were anything but.

He met your eyes and nodded. “Tis not right,” he breathed, “Not fair to you.” Somehow he was closer to you than before. Who was leaning in? Neither of you could tell.

“I don’t care what’s right or wrong,” you whispered, running your hand up his leather armor and grasping the top of it, gently pulling him toward you, though, there was no resistance. “I want you,” was the last thing you said before your lips crashed on his.

He resisted at first, like the God-fearing monk he was taught to be, like the friend of Uhtred he was, like the caretaker he vowed to be to you, but as all pleasures of the flesh he had partaken in before, he decided he would repent afterward in order to taste salvation on the lips of a devil first.

You had never kissed anyone but you had seen it done between Eadith and Finan and the couples in Winchester. You had practiced on your pillow, and you wanted him, desperately. To say your first kiss was good was an understatement. With your novice lips working with Osferth’s expert lips, you felt like you may have met your God.

He pulled away from you but barely, enough to feel his heavy breath against your own. His eyes were heavy, his mouth hanging agape. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admitted.

“I’ve wanted you too,” you blushed, closing the small gap between your hungry mouths again and kissing Osferth with the fever of a rabid dog. He returned the want, the need tenfold and gently, but greedily, placed a large hand on your stomach, another around the bottom of your back and slid you down into a laying position.

He now hovered atop of your body, his large frame covering your own like a cloak of protection. Kneeling beside your body, one of his hands found purchase at the base of your head in your tender hairs and cradled you so that your head was tipped back and neck exposed. Slowly, he worked down your jaw to your neck, kissing and licking against your pulse.

An unfamiliar feeling of tight heat was building in your core and you moved your legs to gather friction against the mounting pressure at the apex of your thighs. When you did so, pain from your wound shot through your body and you let out a small whimper. It was enough for Osferth to stop his pursuit in the taste of your pulse.

He pulled back and you tried to grab his armor, pulling him back but he grasped your hands and shoved them away. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, “This is not right.”

Frustration bubbled up in your throat at his denial, “This is the only thing that’s ever felt right in my life!” You whined, sitting up, angry tears threatening to spill. You sat facing Osferth, propped against the sideboards of the wagon.

Osferth shook his head, “Not everything is about you.” Anger was hidden in his quick words.

You narrowed your eyes, “How could this not be about me? This would have been my first time if you would not have stopped.”

Osferth met your eyes defiantly, “Exactly. I cannot take your innocence! I am not your husband, I am not important enough in your life to do so.”

You rolled your eyes, “If I ask you to take me, then you are.”

He shook his head, jaw clenched hard, “No. That should be reserved for someone more special than me” He met your eye and for the first time in your time knowing him, you saw anger in his eyes, “Do not tempt me again. I will not forgive you if you cause me to sin in such a great way.”

With that, he stood and left angrily, the wagon rocking as he hopped out and away from you, leaving you along in the covered wagon, feeling denied, filthy and shamed.

Taglist: @godrakin @tssf-imagines @brianochka @victoriagaunt @fan-goddess

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine you are a Danish woman who falls in love with Osferth.

Warnings: smut/fluff.

Inspired by: Rosalía’s “LLYLM”; “Dark Paradise” by Lana del Rey.

***

You are a daughter of Jarl H/N who died fighting side by side to Ragnar Ragnarsson. Because he was already a widow by the time he went to those wars against Wessex, this meant you had only an elder brother. Hence why Ragnar thought prudent to honor his friend by adopting his children.

Now here you are, reaching maturity with your long y/c locks, y/c smooth skin and y/c eyes that are deep, keeper of unspoken dreams. You are not very inclined to sword fighting, though you are an excellent archer and always carry a dagger by your side—as taught by Ragnar, whom you started seeing him as a stepfather as well as Brida as a sort of the mother you’ve never had.

There is something good in you that your beauty seems to highlight—and even Uhtred Ragnarsson was not oblivious to it.

“Not Y/N, Uhtred. This one is like my daughter”, said Ragnar with a smile on his lips. “Go look somewhere else.”

“She is beautiful”, Uhtred groaned. “But out of respect for you, I will behave.”

You prefer to surround yourself in quiet contemplation, hence why you are found nearby a river, giving praise to your Gods when you occasionally spot a male...completely nude.

"Oh", you exclaim, surprised, though unable to look away.

“My lady!”, the other one shouts back, trying to cover himself. “Do close your eyes!”

He runs to grab his clothes and you find yourself reluctantly to look away. The said male is so captivating—and you are not even concentrating your thoughts solely on his manhood, but his muscles, his broad shoulders and the naivety in his eyes.

Yes. It’s about those eyes, so pretty and filled with an unique goodness you’ve never seen before in any other before—and it’s not as if you are very experienced in these matters, since you always amused yourself with flirtations but never going beyond that.

You are still watching by the time this tall man with short hair whose beautiful pair of eyes captured you comes in your direction to apologize for his misconduct.

“My lady, I had no intention to offend you. Please, accept my apologies”, he speaks softly.

And just like that you swoon.

Am I a fool? Oh Gods, you make me turn into one.

“Apologizes?”, you tilt your head, smiling rather shyly. “What for, sir? I was careless for letting myself find you.”

The man blushes and you almost beam at such a sight.

“I do not think so, my lady. I should have been careful”, he mumbles under his breath and all you wish is that he looks at you.

“You are dressed now, so it’s all amended”, you remark amused. “I am Y/N Y/LN. May I ask your name, good man?”

He finally raises his eyes and you like how he seems to fight away his shyness to speak to you, hands behind his back.

“I am Osferth, my lady. Despite the circumstances, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Would you care to join me in prayers, Osferth? I think the Gods have a plan for me since you are brought to me.” You smile wide at his blush upon your cheeky words.

“I fear to say… well, not fear, but I am a Christian. I do not think Gods have decided to such an occasion happen.” But as your face falls, Osferth comes to realize he’s making himself a fool. “I do not intend to disrespect you. Please forgive me. I… I suppose we can each pray to our own?”

As you nod, Osferth takes a seat by your side and, as much as he tries to concentrate, he cannot help himself. For when you close your eyes and start to meditate, you don’t seem to notice his long stare at you. Mesmerized by your beauty, Osferth admires the shade of y/c that paints your locks, your smooth y/c skin, the curves your gown seems to reinforce…

It’s not after a long moment in silence that when you open your eyes, you notice it.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”, you ask, between intrigued and embarrassed.

To be under his gaze makes you experiment different sensations, both physical and emotional. You are frightened to find them out, unable to escape the somewhat mystical bonding between you two. A perception that has not escaped Osferth’s attention either.

“Are you an angel, my lady?”

“I’m sorry?”, you repeat, confused.

“An angel”, he whispers. “Sent by the Lord. You are the prettiest of the women I’ve ever seen. Surely you are not part of this world, this...common, mundane and filth place where only a sword makes one victor above all else."

His voice is melodical, sweet, carried with a gentleness you rarely find in other men. Though you always read old icelandic tales about stories filled with love, mixed with adventures (and here you have in mind the story of Aslaug and Ragnar, for example, which according to an old tradition of your folk, occurred about a century earlier), the men you encountered with buried your hopes.

"I would not like to disappoint you, good Osferth", you whisper back. "But methinks I am more of a mundane creature than a divine one, even though I believe that my Gods and yours brought us here for a purpose".

The two of you share a smile, but this sacred union of souls alike ends when Brida searches for you. And when she finds you two, she heavily sighs.

"Really, Y/N? Of all men who pursuit your hand, you incline to flirt with a Christian?!"

You blush and part the gaze, ready to stand as Osferth offers his hand for you to take.

"He is a good man, mother. Please do not speak ill of him."

"How can you tell he is good if you two just met?"

"For a start, he treated me respectfully. You know well the men of our tribe would have kidnapped me if they had the chance."

And just like that you convinced Brida that Osferth could never do any wrong to you. It is how things start between you two.

***

You and Osferth begin to spend a lot of time together. He teaches you how to read and to write, activities that impress you. Soon, you and him decide to write down the stories you've been told as a child. Osferth is surprised by your good memory, and how much he learns from you.

On the other hand, you help him with archery and when there is music, Osferth actually dances with you.

The sight of how you smile to each other makes Ragnar sigh and Uhtred wonder how on earth you never looked at him in the first places

“A Christian”, Ragnar mutters under his breath. “Of all men around here, Y/N decides to fall in love with a Christian man.”

“Baby monk”, Uhtred grumbles. “Though he is a good guy, a warrior with surprisingly good skills for a fucking monk, he is…”.

It’s Brida who speaks what’s in most people’s thoughts, though:

“Methinks it’s the fact Y/N chose Osferth over you that is making you sigh dramatically, Uhtred.”

Amidst teasings, it becomes very obvious to all that whatever is going on between the two of you goes beyond physical attraction. But for some reason you and Osferth seem shy about getting the first steps.

Until one day he invites you to see the stars. Whilst the tribe is drowning itself in excessive drinking, you—on this day, dressed in silk red gown with details in blue, a fancy gift your adopted father gave you, which was actually sent from lady of the Mercians, Æthelflæd, when they met in one of these occasions—are content drinking mead. Unlike your family, you don’t like to exceed yourself much. Little wonder why you and Osferth get along so well. It’s when he comes for you.

“Lady Y/N, my greetings. I understand you are busy, occupied with such a feast, but I was wondering if you’d like to see the stars with me.”

He speaks softly and though he can be bold in battle—growing so after countless incursions by Uhtred’s side—, when it comes to women Osferth lacks the confidence. As much as he tries to follow his friend in such manners, he fears he cannot find a place in between heathen-like warrior behavior and proper Christian mindset.

But whatever the struggle that ignites within, Osferth finds peace with you. He can be himself, aware that you don’t judge him for being an atypical warrior monk. Even so, however, he still believes that you’d prefer him to be bold like the men of your tribe.

“Why, of course, sir”, you beam, extending your hand to him. “I was starting to think if you would ever take me out of this boring feast.”

Osferth smiles quietly, looking down as his hand intertwines with yours.

“I thought you’d like to stay. I saw you were dancing earlier.”

“How come you did not ask me to dance?”, you ask him, shooting him a hurtful glance.

As you two pass the noisy salon, you and Osferth ignore the eyebrows raised of Ragnar and the smirk on Uhtred’s lips. Or how the Irish keeps nudging the latter’s arm, laughing quietly, all the whilst Brida rolls her eyes. To think the two of you are leaving unnoticed…

“You were already busy”, Osferth defends himself. “I assumed your partner was a better one… You do know how terrible I look when it comes to music.”

You poke his sides playfully before you are led to a quiet spot Osferth’s been wishing to take you.

“And you know I couldn’t care less about it”, you smile at him.

Osferth blushes, refusing to meet your gaze, but he smiles quietly. His heart races at your words and there is so much he wishes to tell you.

“So here we are”, Osferth points to the grass where there is an old piece of blanket over it. “Please forgive my…”

You throw your hands around his neck, cutting his words.

“Your kindness is more than I deserve. Thank you for looking after me, Osferth.”

He smiles warmly, openly this time. When the two of you are settled, he asks you:

“Is this of your liking?”

“To be with you is of my liking”, you tell at long last.

Perhaps this is the effect of three meads, but you don’t seem to care. Your body may be warm, but your soul has been aching for him. Osferth feels it too.

“Whatever my soul is made of”, he whispers, pulling you closer to him, “I believe it’s made of yours.”

And saying so, he finally kisses you under the stars.

***

The kiss is sloppy at first. There are soft giggles in between, with neither knowing exactly how to go. But it does not take long before each togue pairs the other properly. You can tell that he’s been only shy, not inexperienced as part of you had hoped.

The way he grips around your waist is firm, and slowly his confidence shows it’s way when using his free hand to play with your hair, pulling it gently before cupping your face.

There is a moment where the kiss starts to lose control. You like how dominating he seems, how his tongue asserts control over yours, how breathless you both are. And every wall is knocked down easily. Just like that.

But Osferth’s conscience urges him to stop. When seeing a silent protest in your eyes, he does not look away, though, before saying:

“I want this to be perfect. I do not wish to deflower you right here, even if we have Christ as our witness in every inch of the nature He created.”

You tilt your head, rather unsure what to interpret from his words.

“I appreciate your respect, something I have rarely seen even amidst the folk I’ve been raised. But I must know… Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. Please, do not think so”, he rushes to cup your face again. He rubs his nose against yours before resting his forehead against yours. “I want you to be my wife, Y/N. This is what I’ve meant. D-Do you take me as your husband?”

You beam delightedly. Your smile makes him smile in turn, his heart melting at the sight of your evident happiness at his disastrous proposal. But there you are, just the two of you in the wild, where the starts and the moon are the only witnesses of such a pure display of mutual love and devotion.

“I do. But you must know I will not leave the ways of my people behind”, you tell him, wishing not to sound so insecure.

“I care not. I take you as you are”, Osferth assures you.

You hold him close, eyes closed as you live this moment. All you see behind your mind is him, his smile, his gentleness… A thousand virtues to lead your way, one you’d gladly follow.

Your Valhalla.

His Heaven.

“I love you”, both of you say at the same time.

And you smile at each other because you know.

***

A few months later…

You come to find out that, as careful he might be with you, there is no shyness out of public’s eyes. You take delight at his hunger for your flesh, at his devotion to you. When he goes on his knees and wakes you up in the best of ways…

“Oh Osferth!”, you barely open your eyes when sensing his tongue working wonderfulness in between your legs.

You still have in mind the day he told you he’d wanted to try something with a woman…that his brothers in arm often talked about. But he didn’t want to waste it with any woman, no.

Your hand moves instantly to play with his hair all the whilst you grip the sheet with the other. You never hated as you hate now to wear your nightgown.

“You are waking the beast within me”, you moan, starting to feel your legs weight.

But all the response you get is a groan and when you look down, you meet his eyes and… dear Gods, there is mischief in them.

Just like them, he drinks every bit of you. And when raising up, you take delight in how undressed he is already.

“Husband!”, you kiss his lips fervently all the whilst pulling himself towards you. “You come here…”

He chuckles, specially when you are moved by this unbearable fire that he sparked in you.

“Yes, wife? What’s it with you?”

You start kissing his neck all the whilst locking your legs around his waist, your curious hands not taking too long before finding his erect manhood.

“You make me go insane, Osferth”, you whisper against his neck, getting wet at his moans, at how he throws his head back and enjoys your touch, ever so smooth.

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes”, you bite his earlobe, smirking at his shivering. “Yes, you do.”

You’d gladly go down on him had he not opened his eyes and swiftly turned you. So now he is on top of you and holding your wrists above your head, he begins to remove your nightgown.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers against your lips, eyeing you with not the common lust of the men, but with so much more.

Which arouses you and tenders your heart all the same.

“I love you”, your words come out as whining which makes him chuckle.

It is only then he slowly, but very skillfully slides into you.

“I love you too, Y/N”.

And just like that you start making love. It would not take too long before a big family starts to raise. After all, you are always following your husband everywhere he goes—even if Osferth protests against it for your safety—and you never resist him. As he never resists you.

Uhtred would later remark that you two form a rather unique pair…

[jacevelaryonswife]

After dark | Masterlist

Like all things in adult life, the day in question happened because of a lost bet, however, from a certain angle, everyone involved won a nice surprise at the end of the day.

pairing: female stripper!reader x modern!osferth, finan and sihtric.

warnings: smut, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m and f receiving) and anal sex.

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Prologue

Part one: Osferth x Stripper!reader

“Watching her strolling in the night so white, wondering: Why It's only after dark?”

Part two: Sihtric x Stripper!reader

“In her eyes a distant fire light burns bright, wondering: Why It's only after dark?”

Part three: Finan x Stripper!reader | COMING SOON.

“In the dawn I wake up to find her gone, and the note says: Only after dark.”

Part four: Osferth, Sihtric and Finan x Stripper!reader | COMING SOON.

“In my heart, a deep and dark and lonely part wants her and waits for after dark”

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—taglists:

general: @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

this fic: @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @tssf-imagines

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The inspiration for this fic is Salma Hayek dancing in From Dusk Till Dawn.