#sigtryggr

[destinyisall-tlk]

the last kingdom + alignment chart (insp)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Little Warrior

Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson (The Last Kingdom) x F!Reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and death, kidnapping, slight Stockholm syndrome, attempted sexual assault, sexual tension, coercion, corruption kink, talk of religious beliefs, female masturbation, loss of virginity, smut. Word count: 4.6k

Summary: When Sigtryggr and his men seize Winchester he takes a special interest in one of their captives (I have essentially yeeted Stiorra from the story and adapted the storyline of how her and Sigtryggr become an item to suit my own). Based on this request.

Author's note: For my beloved @valeskafics No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

They come in the night. As Winchester sleeps, the Danes descend upon it.

She is woken by the blood curdling shouts and screams of the townspeople, accompanied by the acrid stench of smoke from nearby burning buildings.

Her heart lurches in her chest, panic causing bile to rise in her throat as she acts purely on instinct, scrambling from her bed and out of the house wearing just her nightdress. The only thought in her mind is that she doesn’t want to die trapped in her home as it’s burned to the ground.

Once she is outside, she watches wide eyed with horror at the destruction around her. Buildings are ablaze, people lay dead and dying upon the ground, the thick coppery scent of blood makes her want to vomit.

It’s only when the coolness of the night air begins to chill her skin that she realises just how perilous her situation is - a thin layer of cotton is all that separates her flesh from the horrors around her. She worries about what these Heathens will do to her if they see her in such a state of undress.

She trembles at the thought, dread gnawing at her insides. It’s too risky to go back inside, her only option is to hide. She takes her chances beneath an overturned farmer’s cart, crawling beneath the gap and cowering, waiting for the chaos around her to die down.

Clutching the cross around her neck, she sends up a silent prayer to God to keep her safe. Her destiny is in his hands now.

The aching in her joints for having been crouched for so long is beginning to become unbearable when the noise eventually quietens. She wonders if the Danes have left, if King Edward will return to rescue Winchester or if they have managed to capture it in his absence. Where are the Wessex guard?

She freezes when she hears the sound of approaching boots upon the ground, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage when they come to a stop in front of the cart she’s hiding under.

“I can see your feet, Christian”, comes the voice of a man. He speaks softly and quietly, and it sends shivers down her spine.

Too paralyzed by fear to do anything, she remains as she is, her breaths coming quick and shallow, a rapidly dying hope in the back of her mind that he might give up and leave her alone. But there is no such luck.

“You will come out,” he commands, “or I will drag you out, the choice is yours.”

She clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle the frightened whimper that escapes her, attempting to force herself further back against the wooden confines of her misguided hiding place.

A large hand appears beneath the cart, reaching towards her before wrapping itself around her ankle.

She shrieks, thrashing against the hold it has on her as she’s dragged out. She lays wide eyed on the cold earth, her breathing erratic, as she looks with terror upon the Dane that towers above her prone form.

His long brown hair is wild and unkempt, half of it pulled back, and a ragged scar runs the length of the left side of his face. He regards her with mild amusement and she becomes aware again of her state of undress.

The thought that he might rape her sends her senses into overdrive, pure adrenaline driving her decision making. She knows she’s in no position to run, her only other option is to fight him, so as he crouches down towards her, she lunges upwards, slapping and scratching at his face and shoulders.

He is quick to overpower her, pulling her to her feet and twisting her arm behind her back.

“A fearsome little warrior, she is,” he chuckles, keeping her arm taut behind her as he gently urges her forward. 

He guides her towards the front steps of the King’s estate, where several people are kneeling before a group of Danes. As they draw closer she recognises a few of them; King Edward’s sons and a few of the Wessex guard.

She is certain she’ll be killed. The man presses on her shoulder, urging her to kneel beside the other captives. She takes up her position, the stone step is hard against her knees, and she is all too aware that she is the least valuable of everyone gathered there.

“Send them to where they keep their dead King,” the man says, looking at Edward’s children and then nodding towards the chapel.

“We need to send a message to Edward,” a dark haired, heavily pregnant woman says, as two of the Danish men pick up the boys and carry them off. “We must force him to yield Winchester to us.”

It makes her shudder to think that this woman will be a mother, when she is capable of such atrocities. 

“And what do you propose, Brida?” He responds.

Brida regards her with a look that makes her blood run cold. She has never seen anyone look at her as though she is worth less than nothing, her brown eyes are filled with utter contempt. “Send him her head,” she tells him, “it is more shocking to Christians when you are prepared to kill women and children alike.”

She gasps audibly, stricken by terror at the notion that they intend to behead her, until she feels his hand upon her shoulder.

“You will not touch her,” he says cooly, “slaughter the men, but she stays with me.”

“And what will you do with her?” Brida asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That is for me to decide,” he responds dismissively.

He makes a cut throat gesture at the Danes that flank Brida, then nods towards the kneeling guards, before pulling her back to her feet and directing her inside of the King’s estate.

She winces as she hears the sound of blades making thick, wet impact upon flesh, followed by dying screams of agony. Despite her shock and disgust, she cannot help the twinge of relief that lightens the feeling in her chest that that is not what destiny has in store for her, at least not yet.

The room that he brings her to is what she assumes is a study. It is filled with books, maps and writing materials, the space is occupied by a wooden writing desk, a chair and a settee.

As her eyes travel around the room, taking in her surroundings, she’s startled out of her reverie when her gaze settles back upon him. He is standing so close, silently observing her, his expression unreadable.

Once more she is reminded of how little she is wearing, and now that she is alone with him, fear of what he might do to her returns in earnest.

“S-stay back,” she stammers, backing away, eyes scanning the room for something, anything, that she can use as a weapon.

He smirks, unmoving, as he looks her over from head to toe. “Be calm, little warrior. Do you know who I am?”

Her face contorts in confusion. “No…”

He straightens, tilting his head slightly, clasping his arms behind his back. “I am Sigtryggr Ivarsson. I am a Dane. If I wish to hump a woman I do not need to do so by force.”

She softens slightly, fear does not grip her heart quite so icily as before. His name is meaningless to her, but she is relieved that he means her no harm.

Sigtryggr leans in, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. “But make no mistake, little warrior, I will have you, and you will beg me for it.”

She draws back quickly in disgust - not at his words, but at the reaction they elicit from her. The way warmth pools in her lower belly fills her with immense guilt. This man has invaded her home and killed people she knows, people she loves, she should despise him.

Swallowing thickly, unease prickling at her, she elects to change the subject. “What have you come here for?”

“To take what I am owed,” he says simply.

“And what is it you believe you’re owed?”

“Land. Your people drove me from mine,” he explains, anger lacing his tone, “your boy King will give back what he stole, or I shall keep Winchester and send him the heads of his children.”

She inhales shakily, feeling like she wants to cry. “A-and…how do I factor into all of that?”

He softens, shrugging slightly. “You don’t, but I can’t imagine your King will yield quickly, and it is always nice to have company. You are brave, for a Christian.”

“So I am your prisoner?”

“No, little warrior. You are free to leave any time you’d like, and take your chances with Brida.”

The implication is not lost on her. Her freedom is an illusion when the alternative is death. Sigtryggr is her only guarantee for safety.

“Shall we find something else for you to wear?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

She looks down at the thin material of her shift, seeing how dirty it is from having been crouched beneath the cart, dragged out and then forced to kneel on the steps of the estate. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Yes, please,” she whispers.

He nods. “Wait here.”

Sigtryggr leaves her alone in the study, not bothering to lock the door behind him - a sign of his confidence that he knows she won’t try to escape.

He returns a few moments later with a white cotton shift that is similar to the one she is currently wearing, She assumes it belongs to Ælflæd, something he has found within a bedchamber.

“Where is the rest of it?” She asks.

“What do you mean? It’s the same as what you have on, and it’s clean,” he says simply.

“Yes, but this is meant to go under–” she sighs, “nevermind.”

She takes the shift from him and begins to change, noting the way that he turns from her, keeping his eyes fixed on the shelves of books that line the walls of the room. The small mark of respect makes her smile. She had not anticipated such manners from a Heathen.

He pulls a book from the shelf when she is finished, flipping through its pages. “Can you read?”

She nods and he hands the tome to her.

“Read to me.”

“Can you not read?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I can,” he says with a smirk, “but where’s the fun in that?”

She sighs, settling into the chair in front of the writing desk, while Sigtryggr sits upon the settee a few feet away, and she reads to him.

Over the next few weeks their days are spent much like this. She reads aloud to him, though none of the books are particularly interesting, mostly religious texts and historical records of Wessex. She’s not convinced that he pays any particular attention to the words, but he seems to enjoy the sound of her voice.

They find a Hnefatafl board and Sigtryggr teaches her how to play. They while away hours strategising ways to remove each other's pieces from the board. He has a sharp mind, is calmer and more analytical than any other Dane she’s ever met. He bests her with his cunning multiple times, until she finally begins to get the hang of it and he begins to lose to her.

“Another game?” She asks. “How many have I won now?”

He shoots her a sideways glance, a faint smile upon his lips. “I am not keeping count.”

She giggles. She is beating him, but he does not seem to mind.

They sleep upon furs and blankets that Sigtryggr has brought down to the study and fashioned into a makeshift bed. Her stomach flutters at laying in such close proximity to him, but true to his word he never touches her. Shame blooms hotly in her chest as each of the days pass and she finds herself yearning for it.

He brings her food, and the hopelessness of the situation looms over her as with every meager meal the bread tastes more stale.

“Read to me, little warrior,” he requests, reclining on the settee, his forearm slung over his forehead.

She grouses, hunger pangs causing her stomach to rumble painfully. “I cannot concentrate,” she whispers.

“What is the matter?” He asks, sitting up to look at her.

“I am hungry. I’m always hungry.”

He nods, stepping towards her and offering her his share of the bread.

She looks from his outstretched hand to his face uncertainly. “What will you eat?”

“I will manage, and you will read to me,” he tells her, as she takes the offering and he settles back down.

She smiles to herself at the gesture, warmth spreading throughout her. So she eats, and she reads to him.

Sigtryggr disappears each day, leaving her alone in the study. She only leaves to bathe and to relieve herself, but she is perfectly happy to stay put and await his return, especially when she is all too aware of the alternative.

Each day when he returns he brings news of the continuing siege. King Edward and the Wessex guard surround the walls of Winchester, but will not attack as his sons are being kept captive in the chapel. They have yet to yield to Sigtryggr’s demands for land.

She fiddles with the cross around her neck, eyeing the Mjölnir that sits around his carefully. “Can there not be a peaceful resolution?”

"It is more difficult to live peacefully with enemies than to fight them,” he tells her.

“But we live peacefully,” she retorts.

“We are not enemies, little warrior.”

The sentiment makes her heart flutter, though there is the lingering question in the back of her mind; what are we?

He leaves her alone again as usual one morning and she busies herself poring over maps to pass the time.

She turns when she hears footsteps, expecting to see Sigtryggr but instead it is a man she does not recognise. He appears Saxon, so she cannot understand why the Danes have allowed him to move around the estate so freely.

The stench of ale upon him as he draws closer is nauseating. His eyes hold malicious intent as he advances towards her, and her blood runs cold at the sight.

She stands, backing away from him. “Whatever you are planning to do, please reconsider,” she pleads, “Sigtryggr will punish you if anything happens to me.”

“I have allied myself with the Danes,” he slurs, “but at what cost? They treat me like a dog, while Sigtryggr coddles you. Tell me, whore, is your cunt really that good? Perhaps I ought to find out for myself.”

She yelps as he lunges for her, grabbing her and pinning her against the desk. Fury flashes through her as she struggles against him, attempting to free herself from his hold.

“Whatever treatment they give you, you have brought upon yourself, traitor,” she spits.

Her head snaps to the side, a sharp sting spreads across her cheek as he strikes her.

She barely has time to adjust her focus before she feels him forcefully being pulled off of her.

“Eardwulf!” Sigtryggr snarls angrily. “Fucking coward!”

His fist makes impact with Eardwulf’s face knocking him to the ground, before he is dragged away.

She curls up on the furs, shaking as tears stream down her cheeks, waiting for her heart rate to calm. What could have happened to her if Sigtryggr had not returned when he did doesn’t bear thinking about.

She is unsure of how much time has passed when he returns.

“Are you alright?”

She turns towards the sound of his voice, gasping when she sees he’s covered in blood. Rushing towards him, she places her hands upon his face. “You are hurt…”

Softly he grasps her wrists, keeping her hands where they are. “This blood is not mine, and Eardwulf will not hurt you ever again.”

Her lips part in shock at the thought that he has killed for her, saved her life twice now. She studies his face, taking in the stormy blue of his eyes, the fullness of his lips.

She allows her gaze to linger there for just a moment too long, embarrassment making her hot, eager to distract herself. She traces a finger over the scar that runs the length of the left side of his face.

“How did this happen?”

“A man tried to take my eye during battle,” he explains softly, “so I took his life.”

“But you were hurt.”

“Injured, yes. Left with a scar, yes. But very much alive.”

“As am I, thanks to you.”

She drops her hands from his face and he steps away from her, pulling off his blood soaked light armour and clothing.

She feels her throat run dry at the sight of his bare torso, all lean, lithe battle hardened muscle, adorned with scars. She longs to trace her fingers over each of them.

Looking away, she feels ashamed for harbouring such thoughts and desperately tries to ignore the throbbing ache in her core.

As night falls and Sigtryggr lays asleep beside her, the feeling that lingers between her legs has yet to subside. It is maddening, robbing her of rest. Every time she closes her eyes the image of him stood bare chested before her enters her mind.

She has never touched herself before, it is impure to do so, yet she needs relief or she is sure she will go mad.

Sparing a glance in the darkness towards Sigtryggr, she makes sure his eyes are closed before reaching a tentative hand between her legs. She lets out a shaky sigh as her fingers make impact against the sensitive flesh.

She is not quite sure what she is supposed to do, but finds that a combination of rubbing the area and bucking softly against her hand feels most pleasurable, so continues to do that, holding her free hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds she makes.

There is a feeling that builds within her, a zenith that she feels she must press towards, so she continues in earnest, until finally she feels something within her release and her entire body shudders, a soft moan stifled against her lips as white hot pleasure rolls through her body.

Laying there afterwards she does her best to calm her breaths, feeling guilty for having done something so depraved.

She is startled by Sigtryggr’s voice beside her. “If only you’d beg, little warrior, I could do that for you.”

Her breath hitches and she quickly turns away from him. Not knowing what to say, she feigns sleep, clutching her cross and praying silently that he’ll forget.

She is grateful when he speaks of it no further, and life goes back to normal, or at least what normal is for them.

That is until a couple of weeks later when Brida storms her way into the study, clearly having grown impatient with the lack of progress being made.

“It has been more than thirty days since we captured Winchester, and your negotiations with the Saxon King are not working, Sigtryggr,” she glowers at him, “the time for talking is over. We are killing more captives.”

She does not miss the way that Brida’s eyes linger upon her as she says this, a shiver of fear causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh.

“I will choose who we execute, not you,” Sigtryggr tells her.

“You cannot protect this Saxon forever,” Brida retorts.

“Oh, but I can,” he says, placing himself protectively between her and Brida. “She is mine, and I will decide what happens to her.”

Brida scoffs, turning and leaving. Sigtryggr follows, leaving her alone to ponder the fact that he has once more saved her life.

When he comes back several hours later, he looks so tired. The expression he wears is one of defeat and she feels her heart ache for him.

“Read to me,” he says softly, sitting heavily upon the settee.

She regards him quietly, she wants to comfort him. She wants to comfort herself. She has grown weary of denying him.

Before she has time to think about what she’s doing, she crosses the room, and places herself upon his lap, her thighs astride his.

“What are you do–”

His words are cut off as she presses her lips to his eagerly, before pulling away. “I’m begging, Sigtryggr, please. I–”

He surges forward, kissing her again, his mouth possessing hers hungrily as he grasps her hips, lifting her as he stands to deposit her onto the makeshift bed upon the floor, his body caging hers in against the furs.

“I knew you’d give in, little warrior,” he whispers against her neck, kissing his way down her throat to her collarbone.

His fingers toy with the hem of the shift she wears, a silent plea for consent in his eyes as he looks at.

She swallows thickly and nods, nervousness and excitement fluttering ceaselessly in her stomach.

He pulls the garment over her head, throwing it to the side before sitting back on his haunches to admire her.

“Gods…you were worth the wait. So beautiful,” he whispers reverently.

She squirms beneath his gaze, turning her head away at the intimacy of the gesture, feeling shy and uncomfortable.

“Look at me,” he tells her softly. His fingers grasp her jaw, turning her face back to him.

Slowly he undresses, until he is as naked as she is. She feels the familiar ache between her thighs as she drinks in the sight of him, chiseled and battle hardened.

“Now we are equal,” he reassures her.

He reaches for the cross around her neck, toying with it between his fingers, before giving a quick, hard tug, causing the cord to give way. “What we are about to do is no business of your nailed god,” he tells her, tossing it to one side.

He kisses her once more, slower this time, their mouths saving the feel of the other’s against it. Trailing featherlight kisses down her body until he reaches her breasts, he wraps his lips around one of their hardened peaks, sucking gently.

The sensation causes her to moan, a pleasurable sensation shooting through her body, pooling into wet warmth between her legs as she arches against him. 

Sigtryggr repeats the motion on the opposite breast, before descending further down, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

She freezes up when he grips her thighs, placing them over his shoulders so that his face is level with her most intimate of parts.

“What…what are you doing?” She asks anxiously.

“I’m going to taste you,” he says matter of factly, making pointed eye contact.

“You cannot do that,” she protests weakly, “it is an unclean thing to do.”

He grins at her, shaking his head slightly. “Christian,” the word leaves his mouth as a half hearted insult, before he presses forward.

The first swipe of his tongue against her folds causes her to gasp, her hands burying themselves in his hair as he uses his grip on her thighs to pull her closer, his tongue moving against her firmer, deeper, faster.

A groan of satisfaction rumbles in his throat, the vibrations causing her insides to clench as she bucks against his face, chasing the edge of oblivion that his tongue is pressing her towards.

He sucks at her pearl, before laving his tongue over it and she cries out as she spasms against his mouth, ecstasy numbing all of her senses as he continues to lap at her.

Once she relaxes, he pulls away, sitting back between her legs, his chin slick with her juices. His fist runs over the length of his cock as he takes in her blissful state and her eyes widen as she sees the size of him.

He is thick, long and slightly curved. She has never looked upon anyone’s manhood before and she trembles as she wonders how it will possibly fit inside of her.

Sensing her trepidation, Sigtryggr caresses her cheek with his palm. “Relax, little warrior, I have prepared you well.”

He presses the head of himself against her entrance and she braces herself, but then he stops. Her eyes flit to his questioningly.

“Beg for it,” he whispers.

She whines, wanting to hide her face in furs that they lay upon.

“Beg,” he says again, more insistently.

“Please,” he pushes forward, aided by her arousal and release, “please,” he pushes forward again, more of her swallowing him up, accompanied by the sensation of stretching and the slightest of stings, “please,” he pushes forward once more, finally sheathed fully inside of her.

She realises as he settles on top of her, giving her a moment to get used to the feeling of him, that this was merely a means to distract her so that she wouldn’t focus on the possibility of it hurting and grow tense. She smiles, stroking the wild tresses of his dark hair. Always so cunning.

He withdraws his hips slowly, before carefully pushing forward again. He repeats the motion several times, watching her face carefully.

As her breathing quickens, her brow relaxing as her jaw begins to slacken, he increases his pace, hips snapping against hers faster and faster, their kisses frenzied as they pant into each other’s mouths.

She feels him throb inside of her, the sensation pushes her back towards the precipice she’d fallen over earlier, but before she reaches it he is pulling out, spilling pearlescent ropes of spend across her belly.

He wipes her clean with a blanket, discarding it before laying down beside her and pulling her into his arms. A satisfied ache settles within her, she feels she could fall asleep like this, but his voice lulls her back to full consciousness.

“I have released the King’s sons back to him,” he tells her quietly.

“What will happen now?”

“He is sending a warrior named Uhtred into Winchester to negotiate terms, if I accept those terms then my men and I will move on.”

Her heart sinks. She cannot bear the thought of him leaving, not now she knows what it’s like to be in his arms. “Oh,” is all she is able to muster, pressing tighter to him.

They fall into a quiet doze, until he gently squeezes her shoulder. “I must go and speak with Uhtred.”

She watches sadly, quietly, as he dresses. He leans down to kiss her before he leaves and she pushes her lips eagerly to his. If he is to abandon her then she will cling to every last moment until he does.

When Sigtryggr returns later, she is dressed in her shift again, though her cross remains discarded. She is seated by the window, staring listlessly out of it.

He carries a bundle of clothing in his arms and she looks at him curiously.

“To keep you warm,” he explains, deepening her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I have discussed terms with Uhtred and we have reached an agreement. I will leave Winchester, on the condition that you accompany me…not as my prisoner, but as my woman.”

She grins, running into his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck.

As they ride away from Winchester, side by side on horseback, she does not feel as though she is leaving her life behind. On the contrary, it has just begun.

[mojogifs]

Sigtryggr Ivarsson

The Last Kingdom | Season 5

[valeskafics]

"Captivated" - Sigtryggr Ivarsson x Reader

a/n: a request from @bubblyabs for enemies to lovers with sigtryggr! 🩷

Summary: When Sigtryggr comes to Wealas, its feisty princess is the last thing he expected to be captivated by.

Word Count: 3,505

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

TW: she/her pronouns, afab reader, profanity, innuendo, idk reader has a knife, allusions to parental neglect/purity culture, religion, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, p in v sex

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Last Kingdom characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

When Sigtryggr came to Wealas, intent on raiding King Hywel’s castle, he certainly did not expect to find his cousin’s wife, Brida, being kept as a prisoner. And from what he knew of Brida from Cnut, he certainly did not expect her demand that the princess not be harmed. Sigtryggr arches an eyebrow, somewhat amused at her words, but nods at his men, silently telling them that they are to listen to Brida’s demand. He makes his way through the castle, looking for the princess’ chambers, curious as to what it is that is so special about her that it made Brida want her spared.

He finally finds the door and throws it open, a hand resting on his ax just in case of any unwanted company. But what he does not expect is to find you, laying on your bed, sleeping peacefully, a gentle smile on your face, your chest rising and falling with each breath. Sigtryggr approaches you, his body moving as if it has a mind of its own, and kneels at your bedside, gazing upon you, a smile slowly forming on his own face. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. His hand moves to touch your cheek and your eyes flutter open, stirring from your sleep. Sigtryggr simply continues admiring you, but you?

Your eyes widen and you leap into action, grabbing your dagger from beneath your pillow, brandishing it in front of you, lips curled back into a snarl that he can’t help but think makes you all the more gorgeous. He realizes you were likely feigning your slumber all the while to get him close enough to be within your blade’s reach. Intelligent and beautiful, how is he meant to resist? He grins at the sight of you.

“Do not come any closer, heathen! Let’s see if you still smile so happily when I slit your throat!”

“Princess, we would be able to talk far more easily if you put away your blade,” Sigtryggr says, his voice lilting, “It is getting in the way of our conversation.”

“Really?” You retort sharply, “I think it keeps us on equal footing.”

Sigtryggr chuckles, shaking his head, “Now, now, Princess, this is no way to treat a foreign dignitary. I wonder what your father would say.”

“Foreign dignitary?” You glare and let out a disbelieving scoff, “Foreign dignitary, you say? You are a Dane, who has no doubt invaded my father’s castle, brutalized his soldiers, and likely ravaged our granaries. And you have the gall, no, the audacity to call yourself a foreign dignitary?”

“Perhaps you could call me a foreign conqueror instead,” Sigtryggr teases, reaching your wrist in an attempt to pull you closer, only to have you slap his hand away.

“Well, heathen, I assure you I am quite unconquerable, so I would suggest you leave my chambers or suffer the consequences.”

Sigtryggr grins at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he counters, “There are no consequences for conquerors, Princess. And I am afraid that your position is rather… Precarious at the moment.”

“Precarious in what-” You let out an indignant shriek as he grabs your knife and heaves you over his shoulder in one fluid motion, “Excuse me?! What do you think you’re doing?!”

He gives you a playful pat on the arse, no doubt trying to get a rise out of you as he states, “A conqueror must be entitled to his share of the spoils. And you are, undoubtedly, the finest beauty in your kingdom, sweet princess.”

Sigtryggr carries you to your father’s chambers - the king’s chambers - that he has claimed as his own, feeling your fists beat against his back all the while, demanding that he unhand you at once, calling him all manner of names that a good little princess like you should not know. He drops you on the bed, rather unceremoniously, biting back a laugh as you glare up at him, blowing a strand of hair out of your eyes, your face colored with rage.

“Never in my life have I been treated in such an undignified manner!”

He can’t help but laugh now, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, “And never in my life have I been so captivated by a woman. And yet, here we are.”

“Captivated by your captive, you have to appreciate the irony,” your voice is biting as you reply.

“I am captivated in spite of your capture, not because of it,” Sigtryggr corrects, leaning in ever so slightly, feeling a pang of disappointment when you turn your face, “And if your father, with all his talk of being a good Christian, does not care for you, then I will.”

You laugh bitterly, “I would rather fling myself from the ramparts of this castle than have you care for me, Dane.”

He shrugs and turns to leave, locking you in your father’s chambers for the time being, only to feel something hit his back. He arches a brow and sees your shoe on the floor just before him. Your second shoe hits him in the stomach and you let out a huff of frustration, clearly having aimed for something a bit lower.

“It appears we will have to work on your aim, Princess,” the Dane taunts as he takes his leave.

Sigtryggr brings your dinner to you that evening, not wanting to let you wander around the castle with his men still running wild. He urges you to eat, telling you that your castle staff have been spared, that only the soldiers and those who disrespected Brida were slain. You seem to be pleased about that.

You decide to ask him the question that has been weighing on your mind, “Are you going to ransom me?”

You are surprised by how gentle his grip is as he takes your chin in his hand, turning you back to face him again, his voice soft as he informs you, “I am not the type to ransom what is mine.”

“I am not a thing to be possessed!” You scowl, standing up, “I am a person, with feelings and desires of my own!”

He moves to his feet as well, leaning in and whispering in your ear, “Indeed you are, Princess. And I am a man with feelings and desires, all of which revolve around you at the moment.”

You narrow your eyes in annoyance, glaring up at him, a sight that he finds entirely adorable, “Would you stop crowding me?”

Sigtryggr, much to your surprise, shrugs and takes a step back, raising his hands as if surrendering to you, “There’s no need for such hostility, Princess, especially not when I am so enamored by you.”

You tilt your head to the side curiously, blurting out before you can stop to think, “All I have been told of your people… I would think you would have taken me by force by now. Passed me around your men. That is what I was led to believe growing up.” You bite your lip in deep thought, “And yet, here we are. You, backing away from me when I voice my discomfort.”

He gives you an amused look, “I am a man who prizes dignity, respect, and honor. I would never take a woman by force, nor would I allow my men to do that.” Sigtryggr regards you for a long moment before kneeling on the ground before you, shocking you, “Princess, I have treated you harshly tonight. For that I apologize.”

“Yes, you have,” you say primly, snatching your hand back, your pride clearly wounded at the way you have been treated.

He continues gazing at you, feeling lust for you, certainly, but something deeper than that. Something that demands he treat you with the respect you deserve.

“Might I offer some form of restitution?”

“Your restitution will be sleeping on the floor while I take the bed,” you declare, tossing a blanket and a pillow at him, “I bid you goodnight, Dane.”

Sigtryggr chuckles and makes himself at home on the stone floor, watching as you brush out your hair, admiring your hands, your arms, everything about you. If it bothers you, you do not make it known to him, simply going about your task before climbing into your bed. He continues gazing at you, the tension between the two of you palpable as you speak.

“Are you comfortable?”

“How can a man be comfortable lying here on the floor while he gazes at a goddess laying in her bed?” Sigtryggr grins cheekily, earning an annoyed grumble from you as you blow out the candle, enveloping the room in darkness.

Weeks pass and you slowly find yourself growing fond of the Dane, in spite of your best efforts. He is handsome, charming, and never once in your life have you met someone like him. Your entire life has been in service of your father, your people, your god. And yet, Sigtryggr asks nothing of you, save for you to spend some time with him each day as he waits for your father to return.

And, true to his word, he betters your aim. He takes you to the training yard every day, his hands on your waist as he positions you to shoot at a target, your skin burning at the trail his hands take. Soon, you realize that, perhaps, maybe… You actually like the man.

He treats you with respect, something that even your father has not given you. And when you thank him for it, he stares at you incredulously.

“All people are owed respect, you needn’t thank me for it.”

And that just makes you like him all the more.

A few more weeks go by and Sigtryggr decides to finally be forthright with you about his intentions, his desire for you, his love for you.

“I crave you,” he admits over breakfast one day, gazing at you intently, “To hear your sweet voice in the morning, to gaze upon your face, to hold me in your arms. I wish to know you, to truly know you and have you know me.”

You turn your face, grinning to yourself as his lips land on your cheek, “Then satisfy your craving and get to know me. Allow us to get to know each other and we might see where this goes from there.”

He sighs but nods, your smile catching him by surprise and your teasing serving to bewitch him all the more, “A fair proposal.”

“Then let us begin anew,” you declare, extending your hand and introducing yourself to him by name, “Princess of Wealas, the only daughter of King Hywel.”

Sigtryggr takes your hand, brushing his lips across your knuckles with a soft, warm smile, “And I am Sigtryggr, son of Ivar. Descended from Ivar the Boneless.”

“I am glad to meet you,” you say, and it is surprising, but you realize that you mean it.

“And I you, Princess,” he replies.

You see that his gaze is hungry, full of desire, but you also see the way he holds himself back, something that endears him to you all the more. He is rather handsome, you realize, tall and strong with that scar running along his face. He is the most handsome man you have ever met, in truth, and you would be a liar if you said you did not desire him.

Sigtryggr’s body trembles in anticipation as you take a step closer to him, “Tell me something of yourself, Sigtryggr, son of Ivar. Your hopes, your dreams, something you have never told anyone.”

He stares at you, gaze flitting between your enchanting eyes and those soft lips, thinking for a moment before he responds, “I have always dreamed of finding a wife. One who loves me, wants me. To love and be loved in return.”

Your lips quirk up in a smile, a genuine, beautiful smile that makes his heart skip a beat as you reply, “Thank you for your honesty. You may ask me something now if you wish.”

Sigtryggr nods, gaze wandering over your form for a brief moment before he asks, “What is your deepest desire, Princess? Your true, honest dream? What do you hope to find in this life?”

You glance out the window, a pensive expression on your face as you speak, “Freedom. A life outside this castle, not confined to these walls of stone. Not having to live my life for the love of Christ, for the sake of my people, for my father’s ambitions. To be able to breathe my own air and live and love as I see fit.”

He moves to stand beside you and gaze out the window as well, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder, “A noble dream, to roam free. Do you…” Sigtryggr hesitates for a moment before speaking, “Would you like me to give you that? To take you away from this place?”

“If you give it to me, I will not have truly earned it,” you shake your head, determination in your eyes, “It must be something I take for myself. Something I earn.”

Sigtryggr has never been more in awe of you than he is at this moment, watching as you turn to face him, “I respect that immensely, Princess. But it is an ambitious goal. What happens if you fail in your efforts? What if you reach for the stars and find that your hands fall short?”

“Then I’ll reach again,” you declare, “And again and again until I achieve what I want.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, admiration and respect in his eyes as he speaks once more, resting a hand on your cheek, “And if I were to offer my assistance? Would you take my help?”

“I suppose only an arrogant fool refuses help when it is offered in good faith,” you muse, meeting his eyes, “And I do not think myself arrogant nor a fool. So I would be glad for your assistance.”

Your lips are a hair’s breadth apart as he whispers, breathing in your scent, your warmth, “And what if what you desire is this?”

You brush your nose against his, “And what is this, exactly?”

His hands fall to your waist, holding you gently as he rasps, “What I have been dreaming of since the first time I saw you. To taste your lips, to feel your body against mine. To be yours and yours alone. You are…” Sigtryggr lets out a sharp breath before admitting, “Everything I have ever wanted. Everything I have ever needed.”

You smile at him, “And you are everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I never knew I needed.”

Your lips meet in a soft, tender first kiss, full of longing and desire. Sigtryggr’s tongue darts out to lick at your lower lip, pleading for entry into your mouth, which you readily grant, parting your lips. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, crushing you against his body, moaning softly at the feeling of your hands in his hair. When the two of you finally pull apart for air, he gazes down at you, his eyes full of pure, genuine affection and love. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“My princess, my future.”

His voice trails off as you kiss him again, the world around you falling away as the two of you fall onto your father’s bed, a soft giggle escaping your lips before you tease, “How awful for my father to know his precious Christian daughter was defiled by a heathen in his own bed.”

Sigtryggr grins wickedly, nipping at your lower lip, his fingers running through your hair as he revels in the sound of your laugh, “I can assure you, sweet princess, your father will suffer much worse once he hears I have made you my wife and that you have borne my children.”

“Oh, your wife?” You tease, gazing up at him, your eyes sparkling, “I do not recall agreeing to that.”

“I don’t recall asking your permission,” Sigtryggr retorts playfully, his hands grasping at your hips as you move to straddle his waist.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his in the barest tease of a kiss, breathing against him, “Then you had better do it now.”

He kisses you deeply, hungrily, as if he wishes to consume every part of you, to be one with you in every way known to man, mumbling between kisses, breathing heavily, “Will you be my wife? Will you let me love you for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I will, I will, I will.”

Sigtryggr can’t help but find it adorable that you insist on being wed before allowing him to take your virtue, taking you to the closest chapel, the two of you wedding in secret. You gaze up at him with a sweet smile and he looks upon you as if you are the most precious thing in the world. And to him? You are.

You walk to the king’s chambers, where Sigtryggr waits for you. He has already removed his tunic and stares at you, awestruck, as you come to him, dressed in that same nightgown you wore the first time he met you. His hands cup your face tenderly, as if you are made from the most delicate porcelain, his lips descending upon yours. Sigtryggr pours all the love he has for you into this one kiss, his hands moving to your hips, pressing his body against yours so you can feel just how badly he wants you, his cock hard against your thigh. The thought that he wants you as bad as you want him thrills you, his lips moving to your neck as he undoes your shift, marveling at your bare body as the fabric falls to the floor.

“You are,” Sigtryggr pauses, as if he cannot find a word to express how beautiful he finds you, “Exquisite. My wife. My love.”

“My husband,” you smile up at him, feeling every bit the goddess he thinks you to be when he stares at you like this.

You lay back on the bed, watching as Sigtryggr undoes his breeches, baring himself to you in his entirety. Your eyes travel the length of his body, lingering on his cock. You press your thighs together, desperate for friction as he moves to lay over you. He spreads your knees, taking care to go slowly for you, to be gentle, as he moves to lap at your folds, wanting to prepare you for him. You let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the bed as he tastes you, moaning against your skin, the vibration driving you almost mad with want. You cry out his name, your hands twisting in the sheets as he replaces his lips with two of his fingers, moving them in and out of you at a steady pace, feeling your body relax around him. He kisses you softly, lazily, your tongues dancing against each other. You let out a mewl of his name as his fingers brush against that spot deep inside you that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Sigtryggr,” you whimper softly, “Right there, please, more…”

“As my goddess commands,” he murmurs, increasing his speed, lips pressed to your neck, nibbling at your soft skin, leaving his mark.

You reach your peak with a cry of his name, squeezing around his fingers, spilling yourself on the digits, watching with fascination as he brings them to his lips, licking them clean. The act seems so obscene yet so very intimate that you can’t stop yourself from pulling him back to you, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue.

His eyes lock with yours as he strokes his cock once before entering you with a slow thrust, sheathing himself in you inch by inch. The sting is certainly not pleasant, but it soon dulls into pleasure like you’ve never known, feeling him inside you, your bodies joined as one. You give him a small nod, urging him on, letting out a soft moan as he begins to roll his hips against yours, the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot when he gives one particularly deep thrust. Your head falls back on your pillow, your limbs wrapped around him as you cling to him, reveling in every snap of his hips against yours, every kiss he presses to your lips. Sigtryggr moves his hands to hold onto yours, pinning them to the sides of your head, his thumb tracing your pulse point, smiling into your kiss. His hips begin to slow as he nears his peak, one hand moving to wear your bodies join, circling your pearl, feeling you squeeze around him and reach your peak, his own following soon after.

You lay together in comfortable silence, completely captivated by each other, dreaming of your future together as husband and wife.

[bhxrdy]

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

Work Song, Hozier | @gemini-mama @thalygremlinsson

[viking-chaos]

The Last Kingdom | 5.06

[icarusignite]

Hey Author, I wanted to ask if you could maybe write a story about ! Sihtric x reader! Could you perhaps write something where the reader is the younger sister of Ragnar, Uhtred and Thyra. In sihtric's age.

Maybe she could have met him in the forest when the two were children and became best friends from that day on. Nobody knew about it because the families are no longer good. Years later, when Kjartan kills the parents of the reader and Uhtred. the reader goes with him and Brida. She is younger than Uhtred and brida maybe Uhtred could teach his little sister to fight and she will be a shieldmaid maybe even the best!!!

When sihtric joins uhtred, the reader is very happy. Sihtric loves the reader, but thinks she would never want anything from him, so he marries his wife from the series

The relationship between the reader and sihtric becomes very bad due to the married

The reader is angry because she doesn't like his wife, she’s jealous and she is very hurt. And she makes him feel her anger!!! Maybe we could have a little fight with his wife, that would be cool.

At some point I don't know how they could confess their feelings for each other.

I love drama in story’s like that. I hope you like it too and it gave you ideas to write it. Maybe you could say if you write it.

Thank you, your reader 🫶❤️

#drama #brokenheart #anger #bestfriends #love

I am so jealous that she is his wife. I just don't like her😑

I have to put my cell phone away, otherwise it will be broken later

I wrote a similar request to another author, but I thought I could also ask another one, hope it doesn't bother you! 🫶

Heyyy finally got this done. It is longer than I expected lol cuz I wanted to give them a shared background story lol. I tried to add all the requested components but his wife just isn't his wife yet so he was planning to marry her but then ofc he changes his mind after the reader rages at him. I love angry confessions lol.

Cheers, hope you enjoy the story 🫶

Word Count: 4.8k | AO3

In the heart of the forest, the sun shone through the canopy of leaves and the birds sang a merry tune. A group of children ran through the underbrush, their laughter echoing through the trees.

"I saw a wolf, Uhtred, I saw it, it had sharp teeth and yellow eyes!" Brida shouted excitedly, brandishing the branch she held in her hand as a pretend sword.

"Brida, Uhtred, don't let them get to me," Thyra shouted from the platform the children had built in the trees. "And protect my little sister!"

"I am a warrior like Father and Young Ragnar. I don't need Uhtred to protect me!" you shouted back at Thyra, who only rolled her eyes at your childish antics. 

"Father and Young Ragnar are much bigger than you, you cannot possibly be like them!" Uhtred laughed.

You crossed your arms and glared at him until he raised his hands placatingly.

"Now then, what shall we do about the wolf?" you grinned. "I say we skin him and gift his pelt to the lady of the hall."

Your hair whipped around your face as you fought your imaginary foes, eyes bright with determination and a fierce sense of bravery. You took careful steps, your feet moving in sync with your makeshift sword, as you circled around the supposed wolves who were coming for your sister. Suddenly you heard the sound of branches snapping and twigs crunching underfoot, signalling the approach of another person to your little corner of the forest. You instinctively raised your branch in front of you, ready to defend yourself and your friends against any potential enemies. 

"Did you see that?" Uhtred's voice wavered and everyone's necks turned in the direction the noise originated from. 

A figure stepped out from behind the trees, making Uhtred and Brida freeze. 

"Uhtred?" Thyra's panicked voice came from her spot in the trees. "What is happening?"

"Stay up there!" he warned, grabbing your hand along with Brida's and pulling back a few steps. 

 "It's Sven, Kjartan's son," Brida breathed.

"Sven?" Thyra's voice shook.

"He won't hurt you," Uhtred reassured.

You pushed Brida and Uhtred forward, "But he'll kill you, so go!" 

"What, we're not leaving you!"

"And I will not leave my sister. Just go, please."

Several other young boys, Sven's friends presumably, tore out of their hiding places, giving chase to Brida and Uhtred as they sprinted away. One of the larger boys made his way toward the tree Thyra was in. You ran after him, hoping to get to him before he reached your sister. You tackled him to the ground but he easily threw you off to the side before going to haul Thyra out of her hiding spot and toward Sven.

"Don't touch her. Don't you dare touch her!" you shouted, and another boy grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head upward.

"Shut your yapping mouth or you'll be next bitch," he murmured into your ear.

Thyra whimpered as Sven cornered her against a tree, sword in hand. 

"Uhtred! Uhtred!" she wailed and it made your heart race. 

You knew Sven was going to do something to her, you could see it in the smirk he sent your way just before he reached forward and ripped the top half of Thyra's dress off her shoulders. A broken sob escaped her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to make herself small. The sight set your nerves on fire. With an animalistic screech, you headbutted the boy who was holding on to you. When you slammed your head against his nose, you heard a satisfying crunch and he howled in pain as blood gushed down his face. You gave another holler before you ran and threw your entire weight onto Sven, forcing him away from your sister and managing to knock him onto the ground.  You watched out of the corner of your eye as Thyra fled the scene, screaming for Uhtred and Brida to come to your aid. One of Sven's friends pulled your small frame off him easily, and dragged you deeper into the forest, pinning you against a tree with his arm across your neck, suffocating you. You twisted in his hold and kicked him between the legs, making him drop you so that you could crawl away. Sven was right there though, and he grabbed your jaw, turning your head so that your eyes met his. He was several years older than you and now you were frightened. 

"Hmm, you're not as pretty as your sister, but I suppose you'll do," he snickered.

You closed your teeth around his arm, biting down until you tasted blood. He swore and when he went to pull you off, you drew back to punch him. And then you were raining blows down frantically upon him before he had a chance to get up. His hand scrambled around for his sword and brought it up in a deadly arc across your face. You flinched at the burning sting and he used it to his advantage in order to throw you off him. He stood there frozen for a moment, just watching your crouching form on the floor, your hand pressed tightly to your cheek as you took in deep shuddering breaths and blood seeped from between your fingers. Perhaps he then remembered who your father was because he turned and ran, his cruel friends following close behind. 

"Are you...are you alright?" came a timid voice after a while, and it made you jump. 

"Who-Who's there?"

You blinked through teary eyes to spot a young boy around your age step forward from behind a nearby tree. He looked at you with concern, his eyes taking in your injury.

"Are you okay?" he asked again softly.

You shook your head, fresh tears streaming down your face. You were terrified, hurt, and you couldn't quite remember the way home so you were also lost. 

The little boy took a step closer, his eyes reassuring, "Don't worry, I'll help you."

You cringed away from him, "Who are you."

"I am Sihtric. I won't hurt you."

"Can you help me find my way back home, I don't remember the way," you whimpered.

Sihtric took your hand and started to lead you out of the forest. You clung to his hand tightly as he led you through the forest. You were still scared, but somehow his presence brought you a sense of comfort and safety. As you emerged from the dense cluster of trees, you could see your home in the distance. Your heart leaped with relief, and you began to quicken your pace, Sihtric keeping pace with you, never once letting go of your hand. As you drew closer, you saw both your parents standing at the door looking out anxiously. When your mother caught sight of you, her eyes lit up and she rushed towards you, scooping you up into her arms. You winced, your left hand still pressed up against your face. She let out a gasp and carefully pried your hand away, and showed the angry red line, that ran from your cheekbone to your chin, to your father. Earl Ragnar swore loudly before taking up his sword and leaving the house in a fury to confront Kjartan and his son, already having been told the story of what happened by the other children. 

"Is-is Thyra okay?" you whispered to your mother, making her smile affectionately.

"Oh my darling girl, look at the state of you, and you're still worried for your older sister. Thyra is perfectly fine, she just had a bit of a fright, now let's get you inside and cleaned up hmm?"

Sihtric lingered outside your door, uncertain of what to do. Your mother noticed him standing there and approached him, still clutching you in her arms.

"Thank you for bringing my daughter home," she said, her voice kind. "You're a very brave young boy."

Sihtric just shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, "It was nothing, I'm just glad she's okay."

As he turned to leave, you grabbed his hand. 

"Wait," you said. "Will I see you again?"

"If you like...?" he gazed up at your mother in hesitation. 

Your mother nodded, her lips turning upward, "You are welcome here anytime."

You grinned shyly, the memory of your adventure already fading into the background, "We can explore the forest together then, just like real warriors."

With a wave goodbye, Sihtric turned and disappeared back into the woods, leaving you with a newfound sense of wonder and the excitement that comes with making a new friend. From that day forward, Sihtric became one of your closest companions, spending endless afternoons exploring the forest and getting into all sorts of adventures. You always looked out for each other, and the bond you forged that day in the woods never wavered. Even though his father had been banished by yours, he continued to find ways to meet with you in the forest, a place where he didn't have to be Sihtric Kjartansson, a bastard child of Kjartan the Cruel. He was just Sihtric, your friend, and perhaps more, judging by the lingering glances you both often exchanged.

This continued up until that fateful day when your entire world was burnt to the ground. You had lost everyone, your parents, your grandfather, and your beloved sister. Your older brother Ragnar the Younger had been away and you felt yourself all alone in the world, that is until Uhtred and Brida took you in. Uhtred felt a strong sense of responsibility for you, being one of the last surviving members of the family that had so lovingly raised him. He had been unable to save Thyra from being taken but he swore to himself that he'd never let harm come to you. 

As the years went by, your childhood wish came true. You had indeed become a fierce warrior, and Uhtred made sure that you knew how to protect yourself and others. You fought in the Battle of Edington against Skorpa and made a reputation for yourself, but the young boy with whom you had spent your childhood days remained a fond memory you found yourself often reminiscing. 

______________

It was in King Guthred's camp in Cumberland where Sihtric finally found you again. He had been sent there to infiltrate the camp and abduct Uhred but when his band of spies attacked, you were the first one there to save your brother, along with Hild, Halig, and Clapa. He had recognized you immediately, the fierce young woman with sharp piercing eyes reminded him of the little girl in the forest whom his half-brother had maimed. However, when you first saw him, you had only looked at him with disdain. He was just another miscreant to you, sent to harm your brother, and you could not imagine him as your childhood companion. He felt his heart sink at that, at the malice in your eyes, at the fact that you did not seem to remember him at all. 

Once he had sworn his allegiance to Uhtred, he made his way to the great hall, where you sat conversing with Gisela. He wanted to talk to you, to hear you speak. Gisela caught sight of his yearning gaze on you and gave him a knowing look. She excused herself and left you sitting there all alone, giving Sihtric an opportunity to take her spot. He settled himself beside you, taking a moment to map out the planes of your face. He had waited years for this moment, to see you again, but now that it was happening, he was unsure how to proceed.

You looked at him and raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "I hear that you will fight for Uhtred now?"

Sihtric nodded.

"You better not betray him, or I'll stick a knife in your throat while you sleep."

A laugh burst out of him and he looked at you with soft eyes, "You are exactly as I remembered."

"Am I now?"

"Do you not remember me?"

You sighed, "Of course, I remember you. How could I ever forget?"

"Well the way you were looking at me like you wanted to take my head off, certainly didn't feel like you remembered me."

"You know you did try to hurt my brother."

"Right...I'm sorry for that by the way. You have my word, I will never betray him."

You twirled your dagger between deft fingers, "I'll hold you to that."

Sihtric laughed again, "Gods, I've missed you."

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always felt something for him but never dared to act on it.

"You did?" you asked, surprised.

He nodded, "I thought about you all the time, wondering where you were and what you were doing. If you were well. And then I heard the stories, of your brother's victories, and they always spoke of his brave sister who fought beside him."

You felt your heart swell with happiness. For the rest of the day, you and Sihtric continued to converse, your exchanges growing more relaxed as you fell back into the familiar comfort of knowing each other. You both shared stories of what you had been doing since you last saw each other.

Sihtric hesitated for a moment, then gathered up his courage to ask you the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since you had been separated, "Are you perhaps with someone now?"

"Why, are you asking because you're interested?" you gave him a playful smirk.

Sihtric's cheeks flushed red as he stumbled over his words, "I... well... I mean... that is to say..."

"Relax, I'm just messing with you. And gods no, me with someone? What an absurd idea. Although... I might be open to offers."

You winked at him.

His eyes widened in surprise and he cleared his throat nervously, "I, uh, I wasn't... I didn't mean..."

"My brother does enough of that for the both of us. Someone's gotta stay sensible and keep him out of trouble, especially since Brida isn't here to do it anymore."

You chuckled at his discomfort and reached out to touch his arm. 

Relief washed over him, and he smiled shyly, "That's good to hear."

You shoved his shoulder, "Good to hear? I am glad my lack of companions brings you such joy Sihtric."

"That is not what I meant and you know it."

"Oh really, so what did you mean then?"

You bat your eyelashes playfully and he rolls his eyes. 

"You haven't changed one bit."

"Perfection doesn't need to change Sihtric."

"Oh very funny."

What he didn't say out loud was that you were indeed perfect. To him at least. He had spent the past few years of his life missing you and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you again. He kept his admiration to himself as he listened to you speak, feeling a deep yearning in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to tell you how he felt, to take you in his arms and never let go. But he was afraid. Afraid of ruining the friendship he had just rekindled. Afraid of the disappointment he would feel if you rejected him. He wondered if you knew how he felt. Did you have any idea of the effect you had on him? He doubted it. After all, you had been children when you had last seen each other. Maybe you had moved on and found someone else. Maybe you didn't even remember him the way he remembered you.

As the next three years went by, you fell into an easy routine with Sihtric. He was part of Uhtred's inner circle and you were his beloved sister so the two of you were seldom separated. Your teasing banter and friendly competition entertained everyone in the group and soon they were all making bets regarding which one of you would be bold enough to confess to the other. The feelings you two had for one another were obvious to everyone, everyone except you and Sihtric it seemed. Even your brother often sent teasing smiles your way when he paired you with Sihtric for tasks. Perhaps this was why the entire group was flabbergasted when Sihtric asked for Uhtred's blessing to marry. 

Uhtred had mentally prepared himself for Sihtric to eventually ask for your hand. He would ask you for your opinion of course and if you were agreeable, he would have been more than happy to bless the union. 

"Who is it that you wish to marry Sihtric?" he raised an eyebrow.

Finan sniggered behind him, sure that his companion would utter your name. You were all on the road back to Winchester and it had been a dull journey so far so he was curious at this new turn of events. You had to admit, you found your heart racing at his request as well. You held your breath, not daring to hope. 

"Sidgeflaed, Lord," Sihtric replied.

"Sidgeflaed? The whore in Winchester you've been spending a lot of time with lately."

"She says she loves me, Lord."

Finan snorts and Sihtric squared his shoulders defensively.

"I swear, she says she loves me!"

"She would. Sihtric she's a whore," Finan chuckled. "What she loves is your silver."

The entire group burst out into laughter.

Sihtric kept his attention on your brother, "I wish to marry her. She says she loves me and I love her."

Uhtred noticed your rigid form out of the corner of your eye. Your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping your horse's reigns and your jaw was clenched tightly. He could tell that something was bothering you and he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.

"I will speak to Gisela when we arrive at Winchester and then perhaps I will let you marry your girl. But in the meantime, you are to give her no more of your silver."

You felt a pang of jealousy and sadness at his words. He had chosen someone else. You thought that perhaps now since you had been reunited, he might've chosen you. You kept your emotions in check long enough to flash Sihtric a strained congratulatory smile, but inside you struggled to hold back tears. And then your sadness turned to anger, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. How could he marry someone else when you had loved him all along? You wanted to scream at him and ask him why, you wanted to beg him not to marry this other girl, you wanted to run away and never see him again, you wanted to see him every day of your life. Instead, you kept a placid smile on your face and once you all reached your destination, you were the first one to bolt home, leaving your brother to deal with your horse. 

Gisela looked up in surprise when you burst through the door and rushed to your room, the door slamming behind you. Once you were in the private confines of your chambers, you let the tears flow freely. A few moments later, there was a soft knock on the door. You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself as your brother's wife, entered the room. She had been there for you ever since she married Uhtred, almost like a second mother. 

"Oh, my darling, what's wrong?" she asked gently, placing her arm around your shoulder.

You sniffed morosely, "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Well, you don't look fine."

"It's really nothing. I am just being immature, it's no big deal."

Gisela's lips turned upward as she ran her fingers through your hair, "I have two kids under the age of seven. I think I can handle immature."

You just shook your head and leaned against her, allowing her to pull you into a tight embrace, her comforting scent calming you down. Just then, someone cleared their throat loudly and Gisela looked up to see her husband smiling down at her.

"Am I interrupting something?" Uhtred asked.

She shook her head, "No, your sister is just upset, but she refuses to tell me why. Perhaps you can shed some light on this matter?"

"No, you can't tell her. She's going to think I'm being childish," you whined from the crook of her neck.

Uhtred sighed in fond exasperation, "Sitric has asked for my permission to marry."

Gisela's brow wrinkled in confusion. Shouldn't you have been happy if that was the case? She had watched you become close to him over time and she knew how fond you were of him. 

"To marry someone else," Uhtred clarified.

Her eyes widened in understanding as she rubbed soothing circles on your back, "It's okay love. It's okay to be upset. You are a strong and resilient woman and you can get through this." 

"Shall I refuse him?" your brother asked, making you shake your head frantically.

"No, I am just being selfish. I want him to be happy, and if... if that other girl is the one he loves, then I will try and be happy for them. I don't want to get in his way."

"If you say so."

After Uhtred left you alone with his wife, you wrapped your arms around her once more.

"Thank you, Gisela. You're always so kind to me."

Gisela smiled at you warmly, "Of course, my dear. That's what family is for."

Over the next few days, you made it your priority to avoid Sihtric at all costs, going out of your way so that your paths didn't cross, and when meeting him was inevitable, you made sure that you interacted with him as little as possible. Your tone when addressing him was cold and clipped, only saying what was necessary. It was obvious to everyone that you were trying to distance yourself from him and eventually even Sihtric picked up on your strange behaviour.

He had been trying to find a chance to talk to you alone ever since his first announcement regarding his matrimonial plans. He sensed the strained tension that lingered in the air whenever you were around him, and it filled him with a sense of despair. He was doing this all for you and now you wouldn't even look at him. He thought that by marrying someone else, he would be able to take his mind off you. He didn't want to push you into something you did not want and ruin your friendship by confessing his feelings but now it seemed that he had only made things worse. He had to make things right again somehow. As luck would have it, he spotted you walking down the street alone one day. He called out your name, hurrying to catch up to you. 

When you turned around and saw him coming towards you, you tried to quicken your pace, hoping to avoid him, but he was much too fast. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby alleyway, away from prying eyes. You aggressively yanked your arm away from him and glared. 

"What are you doing, Sihtric?" 

"I had to talk to you," he responded, his voice low and urgent. "You've been avoiding me, and I need to know why."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," your voice was flat as you fixed your eyes on something over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact. 

"Damnit would you at least look at me when I'm speaking to you."

"No."

"Why are you acting like this? Would you please talk to me."

"Just leave me alone Sihtric. Go spend time with that whore you've been humping. You should get to know your future wife some more," you spat out.

Sihtric flinched at the venom in your words. Your entire body was tensed and you blinked rapidly a few times as if to hold back tears.

"I can't leave you alone," he said, his voice rising. "You're my friend. I care about you. I need to know what's going on."

"I am not your friend, don't you dare call me your friend. You do not care about me at all!"

"How can you say that? What have I done? Would you at least tell me?"

Your face hardened, "If I was really your friend, you would have told me about Sidgeflaed. You never even mentioned her."

"Is that what this is about then? You're upset that I told your brother before I told you? If that's the case then I'm sorry you had to find out like that," he approached slowly, arms reaching toward you.

You shoved him away, "You don't get it, do you? You still don't get it."

"Then explain it to me... please."

"You're marrying her! How could you marry her? If you really cared about me, you wouldn't be breaking my heart like this!" you screamed at him then, and tears streamed down your face. 

"What?"

"How could you marry someone else Sihtric? How could you do that to me when you know how I feel about you? Do you expect me to attend your wedding with a smile on my face? Congratulate you for every child you have with her?"

"What do you mean I know how you feel about me?"

You turned to walk away, and Sihtric couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed your arm again and spun you around to face him, pushing you against the wall, his face inches from yours. 

His voice rose in anger, "You know what, no! You don't get to say something like that and walk away from me. What did you mean when you said I know how you feel?"

"You know very well what I meant. Do not humiliate me any further," you gave him a weak laugh.

Realization dawned on his face as his eyes widened.

"You have feelings for me?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, "What does it matter? It's not like you feel anything for me."

Sihtric scoffed derisively, "That is the furthest thing from the truth."

"Huh?"

"Don't act like you don't see it. Like you never saw the way I've always looked at you."

Your eyes narrowed in anger, "How dare you? You never once told me how you felt. How dare you blame this on me?"

"I'm not blaming-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"That doesn't change anything. You're still marrying her."

Your voice broke at the last word and Sihtric's heart clenched at the sight of your melancholy expression.

"I'll try to be happy for you. I swear it. You-you should be able to be with the person you love most and I will make my peace with the fact that it will never be-."

"I don't want to marry her!"

"But-"

"I thought that by marrying someone else, I could forget about you. I was wrong. I can't forget about you."

"Oh don't pretend to care now."

Sihtric tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and ran his fingers down your jaw. 

"I care about you more than anything," he whispered, stepping infinitesimally closer. "I love you."

"You do?"

"Weren't you listening silly girl? It's you I love, it's you I wish to choose."

"I don't appreciate being called silly," you sulked. "And you're really not going to marry her then?"

"No. No, I can't keep lying to myself."

"You really hurt me you know."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Sihtric begged, his voice pleading. "But please, just give me a chance to make it up to you. I love you. I always have, ever since we were children, and even when I couldn't see you, I never stopped thinking about you. I just didn't want to ruin what we had by telling you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had always secretly hoped that he felt the same way, but had convinced yourself that he didn't. Now, standing in front of him, you could feel the tug of your shared history and the depth of his emotions.

"Please, just one chance. Let me show you how much I care about you. I promise to never take you for granted again," Sihtric continued sincerely.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice softening. "Okay, I'll give you a chance but if you hurt-"

"Never. I will never hurt you again."

Sihtric brushed the remaining tears from your eyes tenderly and smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He couldn't resist the pull he felt, because then he was leaning in and pressing his lips gently against yours, unsure if you would reciprocate.

You were caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss, but as his lips moved against yours, you felt your heart stutter in your chest. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, allowing yourself to be swept away by the rush of affection you felt for him. 

You both stood there for a few long moments, lost in each other, oblivious to the world around you. When he pulled away, Sihtric grinned.

"I suppose I'll have to ask your brother's blessing again," he looked into your eyes hesitantly. "That is if you would do me the honour of allowing me to be yours?"

"Yes. Yes of course."

"Thank you."

He pressed a delicate kiss to your scar and then you were pulling him back towards you by his collar, mouths pressed in a passionate embrace as you both gave in to the undeniable attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he mumbled against your skin like a prayer. 

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: request by @willowbrookesblog after reading my NSFW alphabet :')

Warnings: 18+!!! SMUT. pwp really. threesome, some spanking, choking, DVP - do I need to go on?

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f) x Modern!Sigtryggr

summary: You and Sihtric wanted a threesome with Sigtryggr, and Finan's party happened to be just the right time and the right place.

wordcount: 4,1k

Masterlist

'You're pretty damn hot, pretty boy.'

'Did you see him?' Sihtric grinned at you as you downed another shot, his arms circled around your waist, pressing your body firmly against his.

'I have,' you said with a cheeky smile, 'you up for it?'

'If it please you, my love,' Sihtric smiled, 'you know I'll do anything to drive you wild,' he chuckled in your ear and tugged your earlobe gently with his teeth.

'Hm' you hummed and bit down on your lip, 'we should make our move now then,' you said and took Sihtric's hand, 'he went upstairs on his own. If we block his way…'

'Then he'll walk in on us,' Sihtric laughed and shook his head lightly, 'you really planned this, didn't you?'

'Well, I didn't plan it,' you snorted, 'but I fantasised, yes,' you admitted.

'You better not fantasise too much, lady,' Sihtric grabbed your chin, playfully but firmly, 'I'm still your only man, yeah?'

'You are, my love,' you giggled and pecked his smirking lips, 'you know you are the only one for me, Sihtric. But the idea of having Sigtryggr with us, just once,' you exhaled sharply, 'it makes me so wet.'

'I know,' Sihtric licked his lips, 'I can't deny he's good looking. And if this gets you going, I'm all game.'

'And that is why you're the only one for me,' you smiled and kissed his lips again.

'Anything for you, my love,' Sihtric smiled.

He quickly drank two more shots before you pulled him with you, up the stairs, leaving Finan's loud party downstairs behind you. Apparently Sigtryggr had gone upstairs because someone called him, and you both heard him speak in one of the bedrooms, his calm voice muffled by a closed door. You pulled Sihtric closer, and he pinned your hands up against the wall as he made out with you, across from the room Sigtryggr was in. 

And you didn't need much to get aroused as your own boyfriend, Sihtric, was already enough to make you a horny mess almost every day. He was more than enough to please you. But once, during a boring night, you had both confessed a threesome with Sigtryggr was an interesting thought. And when you heard he was single again since the last time you had seen him, you and Sihtric would try your luck tonight.

Sihtric had easy access, as your skirt was short and your panties easy to pull to the side.

'You're already so fucking wet,' Sihtric breathed in your ear as his fingers played with your wet folds, slowly sliding two digits in and out of you.

'Fuck,' you sighed, letting your head rest upon his shoulder as he kept your arms pinned above you with his other hand, 'I need your cock in me, so badly, please,' you begged.

'Patience, my love,' he whispered, a tone of amusement lingered, 'you'll have me, no matter what, don't worry.' 

'Sihtric, please-' you begged, bucking your hips against his.

Then the bedroom door suddenly opened.

'Oh, shit,' Sigtryggr said with a light chuckle, 'sorry, didn't mean to interrupt...' 

He stared at the two of you as you both stared at him. Sigtryggr was handsome, incredibly good looking to be honest since he changed his appearance. His hair was recently cut short and braided, with the sides shaved. And his bright smile with those piercing blue eyes, which popped with that hint of eyeliner; he simply aroused you. Almost the same way as Sihtric aroused you, whose eyeliner was on point tonight as well, as was his half shaved haircut. But Sihtric was your man, and no one could ever take his place in your life, not even a guy like Sigtryggr. And Sihtric was well aware of your undying loyalty.

'Care to join?' you breathed after a short moment, and gave the somewhat shocked man a wink.

Sigtryggr opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Sihtric pulled his hand away from you, and brought his wet fingers up to his lips.

'I promise she tastes delicious,' Sihtric said and licked his fingers, 'this is your only chance, you'll regret it if you won't take it,' he said with a cocky look on his face, keeping you close.

'Fuck,' Sigtryggr scoffed lightly and he laughed, rubbing his hand over his slightly flushed cheek as he shoved his phone in his backpocket. 'You guys serious?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric chuckled and looked back at you, 'my girl needs to be taken care of.'

'Babe,' you moaned, finally shoving your hands under Sihtric's shirt as you looked at his scarred cheek, 'I need you to fuck me, please.'

'Damn,' Sigtryggr bit down on his lip, looking back and forth between you and Sihtric, 'can't handle her on your own?' he asked the love of your life, teasingly.

'I can handle her just fine,' Sihtric's eyes darkened as he suddenly felt threatened, for no real reason, and he pulled you hard against his chest, 'you can join, but you better remember she's mine only,' he hissed.

'Hey, man. I have no intention of stealing your lady,' Sigtryggr said earnestly, 'but I'm all down for a good time.'

'You think you can handle us both, my love?' Sihtric purred in your ear as he pushed you towards the bedroom.

'I want you to fuck me both,' you mewled as Sihtric shoved you past Sigtryggr, 'just once I want to feel two cocks inside of me, please,' you begged.

'We'll fill you up,' Sihtric grinned, then looked back at Sigtryggr, who was still standing outside the door, trying to grasp the situation, 'won't we?' Sihtric asked him.

Sigtryggr smirked and stepped back into the bedroom, locking the door behind him.

Sihtric took off your top, leaving you dressed in only your short skirt and a risky, lace bra. You felt his hands all over you as he kissed you from head to toe and back, letting Sigtryggr watch as Sihtric knew how to treat you well. Sigtryggr clearly enjoyed the sight, leaning back against the wall, and Sihtric was quick to kiss your lips and shove you towards the other man. Sihtric pushed your back up against Sigtryggr's chest, who chuckled lightly and settled his hands on your waist, while Sihtric kissed you eagerly. You moaned against your boyfriend's lips as he pressed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he was. His cock desperate to be freed from his clothes. And with that same move, he pushed your buttocks against Sigtryggr's crotch, who felt equally as hard as Sihtric, and you squirmed between their strong bodies as you felt their hands and heavy breaths on your skin.

Sihtric moved his hand up into your hair, grabbing a fistful to give you a firm tug, tilting your head slightly up and to the side, allowing Sigtryggr to kiss your exposed neck. You moaned softly at the feeling, but Sihtric was quick to silence you with a kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth with ease. While Sihtric's hands trailed down your body, Sigtryggr took over the grip onto your hair and gave you another firm tug, causing you to gasp and break the kiss with Sihtric.

'You guys are freaky, huh?' Sigtryggr laughed when Sihtric pulled you towards the bed.

'We're just getting started,' you purred after Sihtric threw you on the bed, who chuckled, satisfied at the sight of you.

Your hair was already a mess, your lipstick was smudged and you looked like the perfect toy with that short skirt and knee high socks. And Sihtric was a hot mess all the same. Already running out of breath, his lips, cheeks and neck stained with your red lipstick, claiming him and only him with the print of your lips on his skin, as Sigtryggr was free of any red smudges.

'You're so pretty, baby,' Sihtric whispered, stealing another light stained kiss from your lips before he stepped back and took off his shirt.

He threw his shirt on the floor as Sigtryggr walked over, who was eyeing your boyfriend up and down, licking his lips at the sight of your man's toned body.

'Damn,' Sigtryggr smirked, pulling Sihtric towards him by his belt loops, checking him out again as he did, 'you're pretty damn hot, pretty boy,' he husked and bit down on his lip.

'Yeah?' Sihtric scoffed with a cocky look as he pulled Sigtryggr's shirt, 'show me what you got then.'

Sigtryggr hummed and took off his own shirt, throwing it onto the floor as well, and he pulled Sihtric closer again. Sihtric moved his hands up over Sigtryggr's equally toned chest, to his neck, and he took his face with his tattooed fingers.

'You're pretty fucking hot yourself,' Sihtric rasped, earning another soft hum from Sigtryggr.

Your mouth fell open, your head was spinning and you felt your pulse inside your wet slit as you watched how both men trailed their big, rough hands over each other's arms and torsos, before they crashed into the hottest, sloppiest kiss possible. Sihtric brought his hands up to Sigtryggr's neck, deepening the kiss while Sigtryggr grabbed onto your Dane's dark curls, moaning into each other's mouths as the kiss got more and more heated and sloppy.

'And a good kisser too,' Sihtric smirked after he broke the kiss, and licked his lips as he looked at Sigtryggr.

Both men smiled at each other with heavy-lidded eyes, while they hummed softly upon each other's touch.

'You're a good kisser yourself too,' Sigtryggr murmured, smiling.

You looked at both men as they leaned in for another kiss, and you quickly cleared your throat.

'Guys,' you scoffed, 'really?' you threw your hands up, frustrated that both men seemed to have forgotten that you were the one who begged for them. And now they were all over each other while you sat there on the bed, almost naked, soaking wet and completely ignored.

'Oh, fuck, baby,' Sihtric spoke softly with his low voice and chuckled, 'sorry, kitten,' he hummed as he climbed in bed with you, cupping your cheeks to kiss you just as deeply and sloppy as he had kissed Sigtryggr just yet. And he made you forget your complaints as you moaned against his lips.

'You're sexy too, my love,' Sihtric smiled sweetly. He leaned in closer, then whispered softly, only for you to hear, 'I love you, lady. You're my number one, don't forget that, baby girl,' he gave you another sweet smile and pecked your lips as Sigtryggr joined you on the bed.

'I'm not out to steal your man either,' Sigtryggr smiled at you, and he pulled you in for a hot kiss.

Sihtric took your hands and guided them to unbutton his skinny jeans, while he unbuttoned Sigtryggr's jeans and watched how you two kissed each other, and it made him even more aroused.

'Fuck,' Sihtric sighed, and he leaned in, joining the kiss.

Both men got a hold of your chin, constantly pulling your lips towards their own as they tried to kiss you at the same time. You all felt and tasted each other's tongues in the sloppy, desperate threeway kiss. And the air grew thick with moans, sighs and grunts as you all stripped each other fully of the remaining clothes, while desperately fighting over each other's lips and tongues.

Sihtric threw your legs over his shoulders and held your hips firmly in place, pressing soft, wet kisses to your core before he licked, kissed, sucked and pleased you with his mouth and tongue. Sigtryggr's hands trailed all over your body, and soon your heavy breathing turned into heavy moans.

'Oh, fuck, Sihtric,' you moaned, 'baby, please, yes, right there, fuck!' you pulled his hair, earning a hard, heavy moan from your lover as you arched your back.

Meanwhile Sigtryggr kissed your neck, your shoulder and then brought his lips to your breast, teasing your nipple with his tongue, and you moaned hard at the feeling of both men enjoying you while you enjoyed them.

'Oh my fucking god,' you cried out, one hand pulling Sihtric's hair as your other hand grabbed onto Sigtryggr's bicep. 

'Fuck, I'm gonna cum!' you screamed, and right after the words spilled from your lips, you came on Sihtric's tongue, who drank you in with a satisfied moan as if you were his source of life, and he had been dying for you.

You heard both men chuckle at your dishevelled state, and after they gave you a short moment to catch your breath, they each took one hand and pulled you up to sit on the bed as they towered over you, standing next to the bed. And without a single word, you took Sihtric's hard length in your mouth, sucking him slowly yet eager. Just the way you knew he loved it, driving him crazy with your swollen-kissed lips around his cock. At the same time, you worked Sigtryggr with your hand, making both men a heavy, moaning and cursing mess.

'Fuck,' Sihtric sighed, one hand in your hair as his other hand grabbed Sigtrygrr's chin, pulling him in for another sloppy kiss, granting you with the insanely hot view as you sucked Sihtric off.

Both men sucked and bit each other's lips as they kissed, and it didn't take long before you swallowed Sihtric's warm cum down your throat, and you wiped your mouth with a grin before he kissed you eagerly.

'I love you,' Sihtric rasped, 'I fucking love you, kitten,' he smiled and brushed his fingertips over your flushed cheeks.

And just as Sigtryggr wanted to take Sihtric's place, using your mouth for his pleasure, your handsome, sweaty Dane stopped him by placing a hand on his chest.

'Woah there, handsome,' Sihtric said with darkened eyes as he got up in Sigtryggr's face, 'you're not getting any closer to my girl unless you wear a condom, you got that?'

You giggled at your protective boyfriend, the alpha-male in the room, and pulled him down on the bed with you, making out with him as he recovered, while Sigtryggr searched the bedroom. And he was in luck, as he found a whole pack of condoms in a drawer.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed as he pulled you on top of him, 'I love you, baby,' he nuzzled your nose softly and pecked your lips, cheek and the tip of your nose, making you giggle again.

'I love you too, Sihtric,' you smiled, brushing your lips lightly over his, 'I want you inside me, pretty boy,' you sighed when you felt he was ready for you again.

'Yeah?' Sihtric smiled, holding your face in his hands, kissing your lips occasionally, 'you want both of us inside your tight pussy?' 

'Mhm,' you hummed, desperately, while taking in Sihtric's familiar length, and he groaned lightly at the feeling, smiling at you with his lips parted as he held your hips.

'This position?' Sigtryggr asked as he joined you both on the bed again, after he overheard your conversation.

'Yes. She will only face me when we fuck her,' Sihtric said sternly, 'and you will not say her name, or anything along those lines. And no anal! She doesn't like that,' Sihtric stressed, 'I swear I will cut your-' 

'Sihtric,' you chuckled softly, hushing him with a kiss, 'I think you made your point, babe.'

'All fine by me,' Sigtryggr smiled, and you gasped when you felt his hands on your waist, grabbing you firmly as he positioned himself behind you.

'You used lube?' you quickly asked, looking back over your shoulder.

'Found that too and used it,' Sigtryggr reassured you, 'ready?'

'Yeah,' you smiled.

Sihtric was quick to take your chin, redirecting your eyes back to his.

'Hey,' Sihtric said softly but seriously, 'eyes on me, baby girl. I'm your man, yeah?'

'Yeah,' you sighed and quickly nodded, your hands moving up to his broad shoulders.

'Say it, baby,' he demanded.

'You're my man,' you smiled, sweetly and in love as you looked down into his mismatched eyes, 'I love you, and only you - oh, fuck!' you suddenly exclaimed as Sigtryggr gently pushed his cock inside you, stretching you up further as Sihtric was already inside you.

'Relax, my love,' Sihtric cooed as both men felt your walls tighten around them, 'be a good girl for me, and relax,' he said and kissed your lips softly, 'are you my good girl?'

'Y-yeah,' you inhaled sharply as both men filled your pussy up completely.

'That's it,' Sihtric smiled, keeping his eyes locked with yours, 'such a good girl.'

Sihtric alone already made your knees weak, hearing the man behind you groan with pleasure made your head spin, and you felt lightheaded when both men started thrusting into you, gently easing you into the feeling. And you quickly became eager and impatient, as the sound of their heavy breathing and soft moans aroused you intensely. The pain soon became pleasant as you became more wet with each grunt you heard.

'Fuck,' you moaned, 'you boys like that?' you chuckled.

'Yeah,' Sigtryggr moaned in your ear as Sihtric hummed with a smile underneath you.

'Is it good for you, kitten?' Sihtric husked.

'Yeah,' you sighed, 'so fucking good, oh, fuck.'

You surrendered completely to them, feeling their warm hands grabbing your hips as they fucked you gently, gradually speeding up their pace. Your body trembled at the intense pleasure you felt, and as Sigtryggr moved one hand up into your hair, giving you a tug to which you moaned, Sihtric took Sigtryggr's other hand, and you watched how your lover slowly sucked the other man's fingers, to which you all groaned.

'You like it, baby?' you asked Sihtric, who lightly wrapped his hand around your throat as he watched you on top of him.

'Yeah,' he breathed, 'you take us so well,' he hummed.

You laughed and rocked your hips against both men, earning a few hard, heavy moans from them, until Sihtric suddenly pushed Sigtryggr away from you. And before you could react, Sihtric flipped you over and picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist as your arms were around his neck, and you kissed his lips, swallowing his moan when he pushed his cock back inside you again as he leaned back against a wall. You threw your head back, being fucked good, and you felt Sigtryggr's hands on you again as he breathed down your neck.

'Fuck me,' you breathed, 'I want you both to fucking use me.'

'You heard her,' Sihtric grunted as he looked at Sigtryggr behind you.

A strangled moan left your mouth when you felt both men inside you again. And their pace became relentless, your body held in place as you were pressed between theirs. Your head resting back onto Sigtryggr's shoulder as your hands held onto Sihtric's shoulders, allowing them to ravage you completely.

'Fuck, you feel good, doll,' Sigtryggr moaned after a short while, and Sihtric suddenly slapped the man's face, hard.

'Don't speak to my girl,' he said with ragged breath, staring Sigtryggr dead in the eyes.

'Slap me again, pretty boy,' Sigtryggr husked, 'and I'll take it out on your girl.'

'Guys, please,' you moaned, their useless rivalry arousing you insanely.

Sihtric breathed hard and slapped him again, to which Sigtryggr was quick to push deep inside you, hard, making you scream and laugh as your nails dug into Sihtric's shoulders.

'Oh, fuck!' you gasped, 'm- more!'

Both men smirked at each other, and you enjoyed the sight of Sigtryggr's hand around Sihtric's throat. And your man became a weak, moaning mess when you pulled his hair as Sigtryggr squeezed his throat, until Sihtric suddenly lost his grip on you with a short, sharp, raspy inhale.

'Back off!' you immediately ordered Sigtryggr, who listened and moaned as he pulled out of you.

Your feet found the floor, your shaky legs barely holding you up, and you checked on Sihtric, who had brought himself down to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

'You good, babe?' you breathed as hard as him while you cupped his cheeks.

'Y-yeah,' Sihtric smiled at you, 'was just a little intense, love. All good. You, baby?'

'I'm good,' you sighed, and you both chuckled before you kissed softly, 'I love you.'

'And I love you,' he whispered and left wet kisses on your neck and shoulders, 'tell me what you want.'

'On the bed,' you said, and you took his hand.

You beckoned Sigtryggr over as you sat up on your knees, with Sihtric in front of you, up on his knees as well. Sigtryggr moved behind you, his back against the bed's headboard as he awaited your next words.

'Again, like we just did,' you said, out of breath, 'but no more choking!' you gave Sigtryggr a threatening look over your shoulder, 'at least, not that hard,' you giggled.

You gasped, smiling, when both men entered you again, slowly, before picking up their previously ravaging pace. Sigtryggr's hands held your hips firmly as Sihtric held your waist with his loving grip, and you took his chin as your other hand held onto his dark, messy, sweaty hair.

'Fuck me, baby,' you smiled against Sihtric's lips, who moaned desperately at your words, not being able to speak.

'Kiss each other for me?' you asked him sweetly in between heavy breaths.

Sihtric moved his hand up Sigtrygrr's neck as he kept his grip on your waist, and he pulled the man closer, both pressing their bodies against yours as they kissed, hot and heavy, their pace soon becoming as sloppy as their kiss. You felt Sihtric's hand slide down your waist to your clit, stimulating you in the right way as both men felt their climax approach deep inside your warm, wet, tightness. Your body trembled again as you tensed up, clenching your walls around both men, who moaned hard into each other's mouths, resting their foreheads against each other as they both kept one hand on the back of each other's head, staying close.

'Oh fuck,' you moaned as you felt the pressure build up in your core, 'please, don't stop.'

Sigtryggr pulled you in, leaning the side of their faces against yours, both men breathing heavily into your ear as you felt their hot breath on your neck. You wrapped one arm around Sihtric's neck, keeping him close, and you took his chin, guiding his gaze slightly down to meet your eyes while Sigtryggr kept his grip on your man.

'Look at me,' you whispered, desperately, 'look at me when you cum inside me.'

Sihtric smiled, out of breath, looking down at you with half open eyes as he continued to stimulate you as he fucked you. His lips were slightly parted, his eyeliner smudged down to his rosy cheeks, making him look even sexier and more irresistible than ever before.

'Finish with me, baby girl,' he rasped, 'come on, I know you're close.'

Sihtric words, the satisfied smile on his tired, flushed face and a sudden spank on your ass from Sigtryggr was all it took for you to come, hard, with a trembling body and a loud moan as you yelled out Sihtric's name while he spilled inside you with a deep growl. And so did Sigtryggr, who was quick to pull out immediately after, figuring Sihtric would otherwise punch him between the eyes if he didn't allow you two to have your moment. 

You moaned at the sudden loss of Sigtryggr, who already made his way to the ensuite bathroom, but you forgot it as quickly as he had pulled out when you felt Sihtric's cum drip down your thighs, just before he pulled you in to lay down with him on the bed.

'Gods,' Sihtric sighed, smiling as he cuddled up with you, 'was that good for you, love?'

'Yeah,' you giggled tiredly, burying your face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, 'did you like it?'

'I did,' he hummed softly, 'but I won't share you again anymore, lady. This was it.'

'I know,' you pecked his skin gently, 'we experienced it now, and it was fun,' you whispered and looked up at him, 'but you're still the only man I want, Sihtric. No one compares to you.'

'Good,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your lips.

You heard the bathroom door close and Sigtryggr cleared his throat as he got dressed.

'So, eh… thanks,' he chuckled, 'I best get going. See you two around, I guess.'

You both laughed and thanked him too, reminding him this was a one time thing only, to which he agreed with a smile.

'Oh, and,' Sigtryggr said before he closed the bedroom door behind him, 'you two are a hot couple, really, you guys better get married soon,' he winked.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @st-eve-barnes

[timetravelingpenguin1066]

[ivarthebadbitch]

the last kingdom + forehead touches

(requested by @weaverhawk)

[destinyisall-tlk]

the last kingdom + happy moments

[oursoulsareodinsown]

[tinumiel]

It's always "I love her" but never "MY WIFE WILL NOT DIE TRAPPED LIKE A RAT! I DID NOT CONQUER ALL I HAVE CONQUERED TO LET HER SUFFER THIS!"

[valeskafics]

"Two For One" - Modern!Sigtryggr Ivarsson x Reader x Modern!Sihtric Kjartansson

a/n: a lovely request from @willowbrookesblog i hope this lives up to your expectations, sweetheart! ❤️

Summary: You catch the eye of two of your best friend Osferth's coworkers when you bring him lunch.

Word Count: 2,020

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

TW: she/her pronouns, afab reader, profanity, innuendo, overstim, fingering, oral f receiving, ass eating, i dont think a poly relationship is a tw but just in case!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Last Kingdom characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

The bell rings as you open and walk through the door of Uhtred’s Boys Tattoo & Piercing Parlour. You wave a quick hello at the receptionist and immediately set off in search of Osferth, two sandwiches in hand, ready to complain to him about the shitty day you’ve been having. You see him finishing up with a client. You wait patiently for him to ring them up and give him a big grin and bear hug when he approaches you.

“I’m having the shittiest day of my life and I need my bestie right now,” you declare as the two of you take a seat behind the register and begin munching on your sandwiches.

“You say that to me at least three times a month,” Osferth laughs at your expense, earning a swift kick to the shin, “Ow! Okay, okay, what happened?”

You launch into your tirade about your asshole boss and how fucking annoying your roommate Ælfwynn is being, bringing her boyfriend, Osferth’s brother Edward, over all the time to the point that he’s practically living with the two of you.

“He always leaves the toilet seat up, the stupid cunt,” you grumble, opening your bag of chips, “And they fuck all the time and she’s so clearly faking her orgasms, I almost feel bad for the stupid bitch.”

“You should feel bad for her, she’s dating my brother,” Osferth says, nudging you, “He’s a dick. You should start charging him rent.”

“For real,” you sigh.

You then see Osferth’s friends/coworkers, Sihtric and Sigtryggr, walk in, presumably coming back from their own lunch break. You sit up a little straighter, quickly brushing whatever crumbs may be on your shirt off before turning to Osferth.

“Do I have anything in my teeth?”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re ridiculous. You know, even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you. Just to see you embarrass yourself.”

“You’re the worst,” you hiss, giving the two men a friendly little wave.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sigtryggr winks at you, moving to stand by the desk, “How’s it going?”

“Good, how are you, Sigtryggr?” you say in a sweet voice, crossing your legs.

Osferth masks his laughter at your antics with a cough, earning a sharp glare from you as Sigtryggr replies, “Better now that you’re here.”

Sihtric moves to stand beside him, “Hey, don’t hog the pretty lady to yourself. I wanna talk to Osferth’s cute friend too.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered by the attention, but it’s also sort of nerve-wracking. But you’ve never felt more desirable than you do right now as they eye your legs in the cute little miniskirt you’d decided to wear today, Sihtric’s gaze moving to your hips while Sigtryggr’s eyes remain locked on your cleavage.

“Guys! I’m right here! Stop checking out my friend!” Osferth protests, tossing his hoodie at you, “And you! Stop doing the thing!”

“What thing?”

“The thing! You know what thing!”

You roll your eyes, tossing Osferth’s hoodie back at him, “Annoying ass.”

Fucking cockblock.

A few weeks later, you come in to get your first tattoo. Of course, it was Osferth’s idea. Best friend tattoos to commemorate over fifteen years of knowing and nagging each other. But, you wouldn’t trade your best friend for anything. You watch as Sihtric does his tattoo, his biceps flexing as he moves the needle across Osferth’s wrist. Shit, Sihtric has nice arms, you find yourself thinking not for the first time.

“See something you like, pretty lady?”

Your eyes go wide and you sink down in your seat at being called out by the man himself about your blatant staring, “Just watching the whole process, ya know. Interesting stuff.”

Osferth gives you a deadpan look, which you respond to by sticking your tongue out at him, prompting him to scoff, “Mature. Very mature.”

“Mature, very mature,” you imitate.

Sigtryggr walks in at this point, looking between the two of you with amusement, “The two of you argue like siblings. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were related.”

“I thought it was more like an old married couple,” Sihtric drawls, “Honestly thought the two of them would end up dating at some point.”

“Ew!”

Sihtric and Sigtryggr eye you and Osferth with amusement, the latter speaking, “Wait, so you two aren’t…”

“God, no,” you say as if the very thought offends you.

“It would be like sleeping with my sister,” Osferth wrinkles his nose.

You and Osferth don’t notice the sly little grins Sihtric and Sigtryggr shoot each other. Unbeknownst to you, a plan is forming in both of their devious little minds. Soon enough, Osferth’s tattoo is done and it’s your turn. You give your best friend a warning look.

“If this hurts, I’m actually going to murder you. If I get sepsis from your tattooing and die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Osferth scoffs, “No, you’ll haunt my brother and his girlfriend for making you so miserable the last few months. I’m your little ray of sunshine.”

“Shut it,” you grumble, eyeing the needle wearily, “Oh God, how much is this going to hurt? Give it to me straight,” you look at the other two men, “He’s not gonna tell me. You guys, one to ten?”

“I can hold your hand if you want, princess,” Sigtryggr teases.

He’s a bit surprised when you immediately grab his hand, squeezing tightly, scrunching your eyes shut. Sigtryggr glances at Sihtric, who’s pouting slightly at not having thought of offering you his hand first. Sigtryggr smirks at him, giving him a cheeky little wink before murmuring words of comfort to you as Osferth begins the tattooing process.

Sihtric moves to sit on your other side and distracts you by telling you some stories about some of the clients who’ve come into the shop, including Ælfwynn who passed out the moment the needle touched her skin.

“You’re doing way better than she did,” Sihtric grins at you wryly.

“The bar sounds pretty low for that,” you say through gritted teeth as Osferth continues tattooing you.

After it’s done, the two of you get a picture taken of your matching ink for the shop’s website. Two cute little semicolons, indicating that your friendship is going to go on and on. You give your best friend a tight hug before waving goodbye to the others, your hand still feeling warm from when Sigtryggr held it.

The minute you leave the shop, Sigtryggr and Sihtric descend upon Osferth, demanding to know anything and everything about you. Osferth rolls his eyes, thinking to himself that your life is about to get a lot more interesting.

Sigtryggr and Sihtric seem to be in constant competition whenever you come into the shop. Who gets to make you laugh more? Who offers to walk you home first? Who offers you a cup of coffee first? The whole thing is laughable, at least in Osferth, Finan, and Uhtred’s opinion, who watch you as you soak up the attention with relish. Two hot guys fighting over you? Who wouldn’t be into that?

One day, after the two of them literally trip over themselves in their haste to walk you to your car, an idea comes to them.

“You know, Sihtric, I think we’re going about this all wrong,” Sigtryggr says, watching as you get into your car and drive off, “I think we ought to be working together instead of against each other.”

Sihtric turns to look at his friend, rubbing his head from where he banged it against the doorframe, “Okay. I’m intrigued. Continue.”

The next time you come into the shop, you’re surprised when Osferth isn’t the one who greets you, but rather, Sigtryggr and Sihtric come up to you together. They propose that the three of you go out and get to know each other a bit better. And how are you supposed to even consider saying no to that?

The dynamic between the three of you takes some getting used to at first, especially when on dates. It’s your first time in a poly relationship, and you’re cognizant of paying attention to both your boyfriends. However, it’s the most fulfilled you’ve ever been in any of your romantic entanglements. They’re both protective and sweet, and absolutely adore you. And when it comes to sex? Let’s just say you’ve never been this satisfied or well taken care of in your entire life.

You sit on the couch of the apartment you recently moved into with your boyfriends, all too eager to get away from Ælfwynn and Edward, your head in Sigtryggr’s lap as he runs a hand through your hair, and your legs draped across Sihtric, the three of you binge-watching “House of the Dragon”.

“The guy with the one eye looks like Osferth, baby!” Sihtric insists, “Come on, Sig, tell her!”

“He looks nothing like him!” you protest, “Sigtryggr, come on. There’s no resemblance. Sihtric’s smoked too much of whatever Skade gave him.”

Sigtryggr just grins down at you, “I don’t know, princess, kinda looks like Osferth.”

You let out a huff of frustration, “Aemond Targaryen looks nothing like Osferth.”

As the show continues, the boys’ favorite topic of conversation comes up. Who can make you come the hardest.

“You guys need to quit with these dick measuring contests, it’s lame as fuck,” you drawl, eyeing them with annoyance, “Just watch the show.”

Sihtric scoffs, “Sig’s just made because he knows it’s me.”

“Wanna bet, bro?”

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter, knowing full well what’s about to happen.

“Fuck,” you whimper as Sihtric pushes your thighs apart, his tongue moving lazily against your folds as those bi-colored eyes gaze up at you. 

You gaze up at Sigtryggr, pulling him in for a kiss, tugging on his hair as you do, moaning against his lips with every movement of Sihtric’s tongue against you. He delves into your folds, tasting you, moaning against you, the vibration adding another dimension of pleasure to the experience for you. You nearly let out a scream when he moves to focus on your clit instead, suckling at it, his fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt. Your hips buck up against his mouth, desperate for more as you continue kissing Sigtryggr, his tongue dancing against yours. 

“Such a sweet little pussy,” Sihtric mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before moving his tongue against you, back and forth, over and over until you’re crying out his name, your arousal coating his tongue.

He pulls back with a smirk, switching positions with Sigtryggr, moving to kiss you and press his lips against yours, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Sigtryggr, however, has different plans for you than Sihtric did. He flips you onto your stomach, pulling you by the hips, spitting on your puckered hole, smirking to himself before he presses his tongue against it, slowly moving inside. You mewl his name, clinging to Sihtric, whose hands caress your breasts, pinching your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as Sihtric’s tongue moves against your ass, his fingers moving in and out of your pussy so fast that you almost feel like you’re going to cry from how good you feel. You feel him circling your clit with his fingers, his tongue still working your tight hole, as Sihtric moves to mouth at your tits, his tongue piercing’s cool metal against your sensitive flesh sending you over the edge.

“Who made you come faster, baby?” Sihtric purrs in your ear, cuddling you as Sigtryggr goes to get a towel to clean you off, bringing a bottle of water back for you as well before embracing you from the other side.

“I don’t know,” you say, too caught up in your lust-addled haze to form anything even close to a coherent thought, “Maybe you guys should try again and see.”

The two smirk at each other before looking down at you, their pretty little fucked out girlfriend, thinking that after they’ve cuddled you and let you rest up for a bit, that they’ll do exactly what it is you suggested.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Sigtryggr // The Last Kingdom S5E1

[viking-chaos]

The Last Kingdom | 5.01