#Uhtred the Bold

[arcielee]

Silver Coins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

arcie’s masterlist

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Second Circle Of Hell - Osferth (The Last Kingdom)

I got this idea while I was in church...because my pastor is kinda good looking...cough. i'm such a sinner, i must corrupt the babey

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon, femdom (mostly), corruption kink, innocence kink, virginity loss, religious conflict, religious guilt (not me projecting🙈), think that's it?

2.9K Words🤙🏻

Ever since pious and devout Christian monk Osferth joined the party of Uhtred, you've had your eye on him in deep intrigue.

The young man seemed so innocent, too innocent. You often wondered what dirty secrets he could be hiding.

Now, you may have just been a lecherous heathen that everyone who wasn’t a Dane said you were. You were practically a whore in your own right, so maybe anyone who acted relatively kind was innocent to you.

You never shied away from being yourself, especially in front of your group of men. Perhaps it was the way you were raised. You had no trouble changing in front of people, knowing that you could protect yourself if any of them would be stupid enough to make a move. Uhtred had already made that mistake once, but he never did it again after you put your dagger to his balls. You also never feared to bathe near the group, plus it was safer than going off on your own and you didn’t care if they saw you. You loved making your boys uncomfortable as well.

A memory that always stuck with you is when you were bathing in a river one day and Osferth accidentally saw you. He spoke apology after apology until his face turned beet red, but all you did was laugh. You had asked him for your clothes but he handed them to you with his eyes closed. That was the only moment when you were disappointed a man didn’t try to take advantage of you for once.

There was a day in Winchester where you, Finan, and Osferth were sitting outside a tavern. You could see how nervous and shy the boy was around women, and then Finan said it. He joked that Osferth was a virgin. He did that thing where he denied it so much that it must’ve been true, and that’s what you had your idea. You knew you’d want to be the one to deflower him, lest Finan actually bought him a whore one day like he said he would. No, you wanted to claim him for yourself. You just had to find the right moment.

Thankfully, there came a time when Uhtred had asked you and Osferth to spy on a Danish camp. It would be dangerous obviously, but you couldn’t help but celebrate in your mind when you realized the two of you would finally be alone together. It looked like Osferth was just happy he was being trusted with such an important task, although you would be there too.

You both set up camp a good distance away from the Danes’ campsite, some ways deep into the woods, making sure there would be no way they could spot you or hear you. You watched them all day, returning to your own campsite as the sun started to set. The trees blocking the light of the moon that you had to build a campfire to see as well as keep warm. But, you soon started thinking of other ways you could keep warm.

Osferth was nervous, you could tell. He didn’t look you in the eyes unless he had to. He probably would have preferred to go on this mission with Finan or Sihtric, but he had to deal with you alone now.

You tried your best to make conversation, but it never lasted more than a few sentences. It was frustrating. So, you did what you usually do best: make people uncomfortable.

“Have you ever been with a woman?” You asked suddenly, amused at the way Osferth immediately went wide-eyed and a wild blush coming to his cheeks. “I heard what Finan said at that tavern the other day, you seemed flustered as you are now.” He stuttered, no full words leaving his mouth due to your boldness. It gave you your answer. “So, I suppose Finan was right. You are a virgin.” You smirked teasingly.

Osferth finally quit his stuttering and sighed in defeat. “So what if I was?”

“You are a handsome lad, surely there have been offers from women before?”

“I mean…yes. Some.”

“And you never thought to take up those offers?”

He looked down in embarrassment. “It’s not like I didn’t want to, it’s just. I dunno, I feel like I wouldn’t want my first time to be with a stranger. Someone I don’t care about or know.”

“So would you hump someone you cared about?”

“When we were married, I suppose.”

You scoffed. “Why wait till marriage?”

“Because it’s a sin to be with someone before marriage, that’s what the Scripture says.”

“And what if you never get married?” You asked with an exasperated chuckle.

“Then I guess I’ll always be a virgin…” He shrugged, “Do you think me less of a man, my Lady?”

You shook your head with a smile. “No. I’m actually kinda glad you are.” He furrowed his brows in confusion, not understanding what you meant. “Because I wish to be the one to deflower you.” As if he couldn’t get any redder, he managed to do so, especially when you moved closer to him so you sat right beside him. He blinked a few times in shock, holding the cross attached to his necklace tightly.

“My Lady, I-I just told you, I can’t.”

You snickered. “Of course you can. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Osferth. I saw how your cock swelled when you saw me naked in the river that day. Did you even relieve yourself afterwards?” He stayed silent, and you hummed in disapproval. “What? Is it a sin to make yourself come too?” He nodded curtly and you rolled your eyes, placing your hand on his knee, slowly trailing up his thigh until he pushed you away and stood up from his spot on the ground.

“Stop. I made a vow, to myself and to God.”

You frowned. “Do you not like me?” And you tried to hide your smile as he immediately assured you that was not the case. You stood up and reached for him cautiously, seeing his internal struggle. “You’ve killed, betrayed your country, your home. Do you think breaking a simple vow will be any worse than all that, hm?”

“I never wanted to kill anyone.” He whispered, allowing you to run your hands up his chest and wrap around his shoulders.

“Then maybe you shouldn't have joined up with a group of heathens.” He was such a sheltered man, you wanted him to experience all he could. You wanted him to be with someone he knew and cared about, you weren’t going to let him be with some whore or stranger. He was looking down at you with confliction, eyes traveling from your own to your lips. You knew what he wanted, you just had to give him a little push.

Osferth let out a surprised hum when you pressed your lips against his without another word, catching him off guard so that he couldn’t reject your advances right away. But even as you kept kissing him, he never made a move to push you away nor did he intensify the kiss in any way. You tangled your fingers in his short hair, pulling hard enough that he gasped, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You smirked as he let out a breathy moan, you could already feel his hard on pressing against you. Your tongues touched briefly, but it seemed that shook him back into focus as he jolted away, his back turned to you. “You shouldn’t have done that, my Lady…” You heard him whisper shakily, you could see his hands trembling at his sides.

You said nothing as you walked to stand in front of him again, his innocent pleading eyes looking up at you, silently begging for you not to continue. But you did not listen, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs would not let you. “Please, Osferth…I can make you feel good.” You kissed his cheek cautiously, kissing all over his face until there was one spot left. He leaned in to kiss you himself this time, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you against him tightly. You could feel a wetness on his face and you pulled back to see that he was crying.

“God, I want you so bad, I do.” He sniffled. “It hurts.” He winced.

“Then let me make the pain go away.” You cooed, removing your clothes until you were bare to the elements of Wessex. You shuddered as the wind hardened your nipples and cooled the slick that was already gathering at your cunt. Osferth moaned at the sight of you, not looking away this time like he did at the river. “Touch me.” You commanded softly, gently bringing one of his hands to cup your supple breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, looking to see if it brought you any discomfort, but it did quite the opposite. “I need you, Osferth.” You kissed him again passionately, your limbs going shaky as you felt desire overcome you.

He wordlessly allowed you to strip him naked, saying a silent prayer in his mind as his stiff cock was finally freed of its confines. You brought him to the ground, where you had laid furs for the night, seeing him look up at you on his back made you drool.

“Please,” Osferth begged, his cock already throbbing and you hadn’t even done anything but whisper your enchanting words in his ears. “don’t make me break my vow…”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just relax for me.” You whispered, throwing your leg over his waist, straddling him. Your pussy was already slick with anticipation of his sweet corruption. You could only imagine how pretty his lewd moans would sound.

Osferth hissed as you took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip in between in your folds before lining him up with your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you sunk down on him, he stretched you out more than you anticipated. “Gods, you’re bigger than you look.” You whispered breathily.

“Am I hurting you?” He panicked instantly, but you simply smiled and shook your head. Such a sweet gentleman. You were so warm and wet, your walls clenching around him due to the intrusion, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel so damn good; like heaven on earth. “Oh, my Lord God, have mercy on my soul…” He begged as he clutched his cross in his hand tightly as you grinded down on him. He looked up at you in awe as if you were an angel, he could practically see your halo as he suddenly came.

You giggled as he filled you up, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his mouth opened wide as he let out a long, pained moan. “That was quick. Was it that good?” You smirked, loving the way his face flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, my Lady.” He stuttered, but you silenced him with a kiss.

“Don’t be.”

Osferth’s eyes filled with tears, the light from the campfire making his piercing blue eyes shine as he stared at the cross in his hand. “What have I done, Lord?” He whimpered pitifully, and you almost felt sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still rock hard inside your cunt.

“Ready to go again so soon?” You chuckled darkly, moving your hips back and forth, causing him to let out a whine.

“No, don’t, not again-”

“You’ve already broken your vow, sweet monk. What more harm could you do now?” He looked up at you with a remorseful expression, the weight of what he had done heavy on his chest. You slowly lifted yourself off, slamming back down on him to elicit a cry from his soft lips. “So sensitive. But I suppose since I got what I wanted, I can stop-”

“No!” Osferth interrupted, surprising himself and you. He looked entirely conflicted as he placed his shaking hands on your hips, keeping you in place and not allowing you to remove himself from you. “No…you’re right. I’ve broken my vow. I can’t change that now. I suppose...I can enjoy this?”

“Yes, sweet baby monk. Let yourself enjoy this. Indulge in the feeling of me.” You moaned, continuing to rock your hips, a gasp escaping your lips as your clit brushed up against his pelvis as the head of his cock started to rub up against that sensitive spot inside you that always made you see stars. “Gods, you’re perfect. I wish we had done this sooner.” Osferth moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside you and making butterflies swirl in his stomach. You raked your nails down his bare chest, hearing soft whimpers escaping his mouth as you rode him. “How does it feel?” You asked, struggling to keep in your high pitched moans.

“Good, my Lady.” He stuttered. “So good.” You moaned as Osferth started to buck up into you, losing himself in his own pleasure and making you feel amazing in return. “Does it always feel so heavenly?” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, the dull pain making a shock of euphoria reverberate through your entire body for a split second.

“No, not for women at least.”

“Is…is there anything I can do to make it feel good for you too?” He asked innocently, but his eyes expressed something else, a slight darkness to them, his pupils so blown out you could barely see his bright blue irises anymore.

You grinned as you took one of his hands off your hip, bringing it to your cunt. “Rub circles with your thumb right here.” You guided him to your clit, even what little pressure he put had your head reeling.

“Like this, my Lady?” 

“A bit more pressure.” You cried out as he listened to your instructions diligently. “Yes, yes, gods, just like that.” Osferth smiled proudly, helping you ride him as he rubbed your clit attentively. You threw your head back as you were nearing your own peak, the man beneath you learning faster than anyone else you’ve ever been with. “Such a good boy.” You whined, your hands grasping and scratching at your tits.

You squeaked as Osferth suddenly flipped you over onto your back, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pounded into you with abandon. Like a switch finally flipped inside him, he was taking pleasure for himself, finding confidence just like he found the courage to fight and kill alongside everyone on Uhtred’s team. You hoped you had created a monster. The way he was fucking into you, if you didn’t know he had only been a virgin half an hour ago, you would have believed he had experience beyond your years. He still had the decency to continue caring for your sensitive nub, forcing your body into overdrive as you kept climbing and climbing to reach that peak. Now you were the one whining and whimpering, how the tables turned.

With his cock continuously hitting that special spot inside of you and your stimulated clit, accompanied by the sound of Osferth’s skin slapping against yours wetly along with his soft moans in your ear, you felt that intense ecstasy you had been craving wash over you like a tidal wave. You prayed to the gods that the Dane’s camp, however many miles away, would not be able to hear your loud strained moan as you came. “Gods, Osferth!” You cried out, your hands holding onto his shoulder with a vice grip that would surely leave bruises just like he must’ve done to your hips.

“Christ-!” Osferth groaned, gripping one of your breasts as he fucked a second load into you, his vision going blurry as his second orgasm was much more powerful than the first. It was too much and not enough, all he could do was ride it out until the feeling went away. 

When it seemed he came back to your realm, you were looking up at him with a proud grin. He couldn’t help but grin back, the afterglow making him dazed and giddy. “You made me come, sweet Osferth. Not many people have achieved such a feat.” 

“I don’t believe you, my Lady.” He smiled, pulling out of you with a hiss and laying down beside you. It was true, but even if it wasn’t, you still wanted to stroke his ego just to see the blush on his face. “Now I understand why some take a vow of celibacy.”

You giggled, turning to lay on your stomach, resting on your elbows. “Why?”

“Because I think I could worship you now, and the Scripture says that you shall not have any gods before Him.” He smirked boyishly, trailing his pointer finger across your jawline, stopping his path to rest the finger on your bottom lip.

You gently kissed the tip of his finger, his eyes watching you intently. “As much as it might be fun to be worshiped, I have no intention to steal you away from your god.”

“You already have, my Lady.” 

Needless to say, your mission for Uhtred went well. You managed to signal the rest of the group when the Danes were off guard, slaughtering everyone you all could before they retreated. And your recent lover Osferth had just the way to celebrate the newest victory.

i am such a heathen, something me and Uhtred have in common i guess

[witchezandwonderz]

In the Shadows of Her Heart

Pairing: Aethelstan x Reader

Word Count: 948

Summary: After a drunken night, you admit to having feelings for someone after being questioned. When Aethelstan hears that the woman he loves might have eyes for another, he’s compelled to follow her home, determined to uncover the truth.

A/N- Helloooooo, I am a new page and love writing, especially about Aethelstan! However, I would love to write for other characters also. My requests are open, so if you have anything specific you would like me to write, please just ask! :)

If you enjoy my writing please could you like or reblog- this will help me find new accounts and mutuals to follow and enjoy others work. Thank you <3

Under the dim glow of a half-hidden moon, Aethelstan moved carefully along the worn path to your modest home, his cloak pulled tight against the chill, his every breath heavy with a question he feared to answer. Yet he had to know the truth, even if it broke his heart. Never had he imagined he would be creeping through the night on your account, feeling embarrassed, anxious, jealous—and more than a little afraid of being caught.

You had known Aethelstan for some years now. You rarely stayed in one place long enough to form deep ties, yet here in Rumcofa, you lingered, drawn by something that felt like belonging. While you had grown close to Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric, Aethelstan was different. He held a quiet allure that took your breath away, though you did not realise how much he felt the same for you.

That evening, the hours had passed in the alehouse with laughter, drinking, and jests. As usual, you and Aethelstan found yourselves absorbed in your own quiet conversation, only joining the others when their voices drew you back. But then Sihtric, emboldened by drink, cast a bold question that changed the course of the night.

"So, Y/N, a question we have all pondered." He grinned, pausing with a mischievous glance at Finan before continuing. "When will you find yourself a man, then? Have you already? Is there someone?"

His tone was light, yet the question took you off guard, and a strange warmth rose to your cheeks. You felt Aethelstan’s gaze, though he looked away when you met his eyes.

Shall I confess that I care for Aethelstan? No—not here.

Shall I claim I’ve already found another? But would that end my chances with him… or open them?

The thoughts tumbled through your mind until, finally, you replied, "Sihtric, if you must know, perhaps there is someone I’ve had my eye on." With a playful wink, you finished your drink and took your leave. Aethelstan’s farewell felt strange, distant, though you brushed it off, thinking it only the wine.

As soon as you left, Finan nudged Aethelstan and joked, "Bad news for you, my friend. Close, but not close enough." Aethelstan’s face grew dark, and Finan’s laughter faded. "I meant no harm," he added quickly, but Aethelstan had already risen, cloak in hand, and left.

Troubled by wine and jealousy, his mind spun wild with every possibility. He had to know whom you’d meant, whom you truly cared for. And so, without much thought, he followed you home, his plan half-formed: he would hide nearby, wait, and see if another came to join you.

So it was that he sat below your window an hour later, his thoughts hazy yet transfixed by the sight of you inside, weaving your hair into a loose braid. You hummed softly to yourself, bare feet rubbing the furs on your bed for warmth, oblivious to his watchful gaze. Aethelstan was spellbound, his heart stirred by this quiet, unguarded glimpse of you.

This is madness, he thought, his head clearing as he realized the foolishness of his plan. He moved to leave, but as he shifted, a twig snapped underfoot, louder than thunder in the night’s silence. The sound startled you, and in an instant, you had seized your sword and darted to the window.

"Who’s there?" you called sharply.

To your utter surprise, Aethelstan’s face appeared from the shadows, wide-eyed and sheepish, like a child caught in mischief. Your brow furrowed as you lowered your sword. "Aethelstan? Why are you crouching outside my window?"

Struggling to find his words, he stammered until you held up a hand. "Enough—come inside."

He followed you in, every step burdened with self-doubt as his mind raced with the many reasons he should have turned back. Yet you, already sensing his purpose, hid your smile as you waited for him to speak first. He entered awkwardly, standing like a boy unsure of his welcome. You gestured to the bed beside you, and he sat, fidgeting as you took his cold hands in yours.

"You must be freezing," you said gently, keeping your gaze averted. When you looked up at last, your eyes held a trace of amusement. "Now, Aethelstan, will you tell me what brings you here?"

Taking a breath, he blurted out, "This man you spoke of... Is he a Saxon?" His voice shook as he repeated the question, his eyes searching yours.

A soft laugh escaped you. "He hardly knows himself," you replied, heat rising to your cheeks.

Aethelstan’s expression shifted, and he pulled his hands from yours. “It seems he has your affections well enough; you can scarcely speak of him without blushing.” Rising, he turned as if to leave. "I should go."

"Did you come all this way just to ask me that?" you called softly. He nodded, his face now tinged with colour.

Enough, you thought.

"Aethelstan," you said, your voice low, "I was speaking of you."

You lowered your gaze, heart pounding in the silence until you sensed him step closer. Looking up, you found him only inches away.

"You spoke of me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, a small smile breaking through his astonishment.

"I did." Your voice was steady, though your heart was not.

Relief softened his expression as his hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. The look between you held steady, an unspoken pull neither could resist. He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours, soft and tentative, as though savoring a long-awaited answer. His hands found your face, drawing you closer as though this kiss might unlock every unspoken feeling held between you.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a small, almost bashful laugh. “So... I haven’t come too late?”

With a smile, you replied, “No—I’ve been waiting for you.”

[idkyetxoxo]

Nine | Allure | The Last Kingdom

"Why don't you just approach her?"

"Whoever has their hand on my ass has five seconds to remove it before I cut off their balls and feed them to you,"

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───��⋅☾⋅☆───

Seated in the comforting confines of Thyra and Beocca's home, I found myself surrounded by Finan, Sihtric, Osferth, Uhtred, and Beocca.

"You know, you look human, almost angelic," Finan remarked with a playful twinkle in his eye, gesturing towards the light blue dress adorning my frame. His comment elicited a chuckle from me.

"In something other than black," Uhtred added with a wry smile, his observation drawing a teasing retort from me.

"What can I say, black is my favourite colour," I shrugged, smoothing out the delicate fabric of the dress.

"Black is the colour of death and evil," Beocca interjected solemnly. I met his scrutiny with a mischievous smile, a flicker of boldness dancing in my eyes.

"Which is why I love it," I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur, savouring the subtle rebellion against convention. Beocca's disapproving tut only served to deepen the amusement in me.

The joyous atmosphere shattered the moment Thyra returned home, her tear-stained face a contrast to the mirth that had filled the air just moments before.

My smile faltered as concern etched lines of worry across my brow. "Thyra, what happened?" I implored urgently, rising to my feet as a wave of unease swept through the room, drawing the attention of everyone present.

Her words cut through the silence like a knife, filling me with an indescribable rage, a fire burning fiercely within me. "Where is he?" I demanded, my voice trembling with barely contained fury, my eyes ablaze with righteous indignation.

Before Thyra could reply, the door burst open, and Beocca stormed out, his expression a tumult of anger and resolve. Without hesitation, I followed in his wake, as we confronted the source of Thyra's distress.

"You will steer clear of my wife, or else I will personally see to it that you are no longer a concern!" Beocca's voice rang out, sharp and resolute, as he faced off against Tidman, Aethelwold, and their cohorts. Instinctively, I held back Finan, who moved to intervene, shaking my head in silent instruction to allow Beocca to express the depth of his emotions.

Tensions simmered as Tidman continued his berating, the air thick with the promise of imminent conflict. Yet, Beocca surprised us all, his restraint shattered as he lunged forward, delivering a swift and decisive blow that sent Tidman sprawling to the ground.

For a moment, chaos reigned as fists flew and tempers flared, until Finan, Uhtred, Osferth, and Sihtric stepped in. Stepping back, I watched as they separated the two, the air heavy with the weight of simmering animosity.

"This is your fault," I accused, my voice a cold blade slicing through the tension, as I fixed Aethelwold with a withering glare. Beocca's words echoed mine "You're the one stirring up trouble and turning the citizens of Wessex against each other" his voice heavy with disappointment and reproach.

"Your father would be ashamed of you," Beocca concluded, his words a final indictment before we turned and left.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

I left the tumult behind, leading Thyra away from the chaos that had erupted among the men, their voices fading into the distance as we sought solace in the tranquillity of an empty field.

As Thyra deftly wove daisies into a crown, I idly plucked at blades of grass, the warmth of the sun caressing my skin. "Your husband is a good man," I mused, stretching leisurely in the golden light.

"He is kind, honest and caring," Thyra murmured, gently settling the crown upon my head with a tender smile.

"When will you get married?" she ventured, breaking the peaceful silence with a question that cut through the serenity like a shard of glass. My reaction was immediate, my expression twisting into a mask of distaste. 

"I am a warrior, a fighter. I do not wish to be tied down and wedded off," I declared, the very thought of such confinement igniting a flicker of rebellion within me.

Thyra laughed, the sound a melody that danced upon the breeze. "You could always marry someone who encourages you to fight," she suggested lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I scoffed at the notion, dismissing it with a shake of my head. "Where am I going to find a man like that?" I retorted, the idea seeming like a distant fantasy.

"What about Finan?" Thyra proposed, her words piercing the air with a hint of possibility. I laughed in response, the notion of romance between us absurd. "No way. He's practically like my brother. I don't think I've ever seen him as anything more than a friend," I insisted firmly.

But Thyra was undeterred, her gaze steady as she ventured another name. "What about Sihtric?" she inquired, her words catching me off guard, my fingers pausing in their absentminded task. "I hate him, and he hates me," I protested, the animosity between us a barrier too formidable to breach.

"No, you do not," Thyra countered gently, her voice a soft murmur that cut through my defences. "I've seen the way he looks at you when you aren't watching," she confessed, her words carrying a weight of observation that left me unsettled.

Before I could interject, she placed a gentle hand over my mouth, silencing my protests. "He's always protecting you, and you two would be a good match," she suggested, her words lingering in the air like a fragile promise.

A strange sensation stirred within me, a fluttering uncertainty that I couldn't quite place. Adjusting the flower crown atop my head, I rose to my feet, the weight of Thyra's words lingering like a shadow in the recesses of my mind.

"Let's head back before you make me get sick," I joked weakly, extending a hand to pull her up, brushing aside her well-meaning words as I retreated into the safety of denial. Yet, beneath the veneer of laughter, a seed of doubt had been planted, its roots taking hold in the depths of my heart.

We returned to the heart of Winchester only to be greeted by a sombre atmosphere of mourning that hung heavy in the air like a shroud.

"We were gone hardly an hour, and he's dead?" I exclaimed, my incredulity tinged with disbelief. Thyra's swift rebuke, a gentle reprimand on my arm, reminded me of the solemnity of the occasion.

Thyra's firm grip propelled me towards the hall where the solemn service unfolded, the weight of grief hanging thick in the air like a funeral shroud. Amidst the sea of mourners, I spotted the familiar figures of Finan and Uhtred in the distance, their presence offering a semblance of comfort amidst the scene. 

My eyes drifted towards Tidman next, his presence a dark cloud amidst the gathering storm of emotions. Concern etched Thyra's features as she observed the tense interaction between Steapa and Uhtred, her silent apprehension palpable in the air.

"Hey, are you okay? We can leave if you like," I offered, extending a lifeline of escape amidst the suffocating grief that threatened to engulf us. Thyra's resolute shake of the head dismissed the notion.

As Steapa approached Uhtred, their exchange bristling with tension, Thyra gently nudged me forward, her silent insistence urging me to seek answers amidst the brewing storm. "Go see what's happening, I will return home," she whispered, her voice a promise of understanding and support.

"Are you sure?" I hesitated, lingering in the moment, reluctant to leave her side amidst the uncertainty that loomed on the horizon with Tidman around. With a nod of reassurance, she bid me farewell with an embrace.

I followed after Uhtred, Steapa, and Finan. "What's going on?" I ventured once we found ourselves alone, the tension crackling like electricity between them.

"It's okay, just fall back," Uhtred's voice was firm, a directive tinged with a hint of urgency. Stubbornly, I crossed my arms in protest, the desire for answers burning brightly within me.

"Just go," he repeated his words a stern command that brooked no argument. Reluctantly, I acquiesced, casting one final glance over my shoulder before stepping out into the cool embrace of the evening air alongside Finan.

"Where to?" Finan's voice broke the silence. With a heavy sigh, I adjusted the flower crown atop my head, its delicate petals a contrast to the reputation that preceded me.

"Ale," I replied, the word a whispered prayer as we ventured into the comforting embrace of the alehouse.

The alehouse bustled with life, the air thick with the mingled scents of ale and conversation. Surprisingly, it was relatively full. Among the crowd, Osferth and Sihtric awaited us at a table.

A playful jab at their appetite for ale elicited a round of laughter as I noticed the three empty jugs. With a teasing grin, I rose from the table, an empty jug in hand, poised to replenish our dwindling supply.

As I approached the bar, the hum of conversation faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic clinking of tankards and the soft murmur of voices. Oblivious to the hushed exchange unfolding at our table, I waited patiently for the refill, my elbows resting wearily upon the worn wooden surface.

Amidst the din, Sihtric's gaze lingered upon me, his eyes tracing the curve of my silhouette with a mixture of curiosity and longing. Unbeknownst to me, a silent conversation unfolded between him, Finan, and Osferth, their words veiled in secrecy as they weighed the complexities of unspoken desires.

"Why don't you just approach her?" Finan's voice pierced the veil of silence, his words a gentle nudge towards action. Sihtric's response was a whisper carried on the breeze "I can't" his voice tinged with hesitation and uncertainty.

"Why not? Staring at her like that all the time isn't going to achieve anything," Osferth interjected, his tone pragmatic and matter-of-fact. Sihtric's glare, a silent rebuke, conveyed volumes in the space between words, his reluctance evident.

"Because" Sihtric's voice faltered, his words lost in the tumult of emotions that surged within him. With a heavy silence hanging in the air, all eyes turned towards me.

My senses heightened as I felt the unwelcome intrusion of a wandering hand firmly placed upon my person followed by a tight squeeze, a brazen act. 

"Whoever has their hand on my ass has five seconds to remove it before I cut off their balls and feed them to you," I declared without looking back, my voice cutting through the din with a steely edge. With my dagger raised in warning, I exuded an air of determination, my resolve unwavering.

As the offender retreated with muttered words, a sense of triumph washed over me. Sihtric's gaze lingered upon me, his silence speaking volumes.

"Because of that," Sihtric finally confessed, his words weighted with a mixture of admiration and uncertainty. Finan's laughter, a buoyant echo amidst the lingering tension, broke the spell of silence, his jest a playful reminder of the levity that lurked beneath the surface.

"So you're saying you don't think you'll be able to handle the little devil?" Finan teased, his words laced with humour as he patted Sihtric's shoulder in mock reassurance. Before Sihtric could muster a response, I returned to the table with the jug of ale having no idea of the conversation that had just brewed.

Sitting at the table, I poured myself a cup of ale, the golden liquid cascading into the vessel with a gentle murmur. Finan's fingers brushed against the delicate flower crown adorning my head, eliciting a reflexive swat in response to his gesture.

"So, what's the deal with these?" Finan inquired, his curiosity piqued by the ornate adornment. With a sip of ale to fortify my thoughts, I embarked on the tale behind the floral accessory.

"Thyra makes them for me," I explained, the fondness evident in my voice as I recounted the cherished tradition. "I could never make one as a kid," I reminisced, a hint of nostalgia colouring my words, "so she promised she would make them for me always, and now, every time we're together, she insists on crafting one for me," I added.

Turning my attention to Sihtric, whose quiet demeanour had not gone unnoticed, I probed him "Why are you so quiet? You usually never shut up," I remarked, a teasing smile playing upon my lips.

"He's afraid you'll cut off his balls and feed them to him," Finan interjected, a mischievous smirk dancing across his features as he teased Sihtric. The unexpected quip caught Sihtric off guard, eliciting a choked response as he struggled to swallow his ale.

"Well, don't touch my ass and I won't have to," I retorted, laughter bubbling forth as I deftly deflected Sihtric's glare. "I wouldn't dream of it" he responded and the playful banter seemed to fade into the background as a single, primal urge surged to the forefront of his mind.

His thoughts deceived him, consumed by a visceral longing that pulsed through his veins. His eyes, though fixed on the lively scene unfolding before him, betrayed the tempest of desires swirling within.

With each passing moment, his imagination ran wild, envisioning a world where his hands traced the contours of my form, where every inch of my body yielded to his touch. In the recesses of his mind, he painted vivid pictures of intimacy and exploration, each brushstroke fueled by an insatiable hunger that gnawed at his very core.

As laughter bubbled forth from my lips at something Osferth said, he found himself entranced by the musical cadence of my voice, the laughter mingling with the heady scent of ale.

With a silent vow, he committed every curve, every contour to memory, his fingers itching to explore the forbidden depths of my being and as he offered a pointed glare in Finan's direction, a silent promise lingered in his gaze, a promise of exploration, of intimacy, and of a longing yet to be fulfilled.

Our conversation and Sihtric's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a cry of "fire" echoing from outside, the urgency of the call to action propelling us into motion. With a shared sense of determination, we set aside our cups and ventured outside to confront whatever awaited us.

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

"I am a warrior, a fighter. I do not wish to be tied down and wedded off," we'll see about that babe ALSO very proud of those last few paragraphs of Sihtric's thoughts 😋 (he fell first she fell harder maybeee 👀)

[holy3cake]

Lead us into temptation (Please, Lady)

Hi all! I've been working on this Eadith/Osferth drabble, I hope you enjoy this! If you do, please let me know if you'd like anymore! I haven't forgotten my Aethelbert boys either, I just wanted to share this too :)

Possibly will be 1/3 chapters!

After receiving her dismissal from Aethelflaed, Eadith felt as though she’d outlived her purpose. It was a tedious game trying to win favour with the royals, as she’d learnt by becoming Aethelred’s plaything. Aelfwynn and Aethelstan were extremely sweet children, and being in their company had piqued her interest in having children of her own. Alas, she knew she would not be destined for such a future, at least not yet, having to travel with Uhtred and his men after her punishment dealt by the Mercian Queen. But what surprised her the most was how safe she felt in their company, unlike so many men that would’ve easily used her as an object.

Aelswith rode alongside them, and even though she protested avidly against such vulgar conditions, her eyes betrayed her. Eadith could see that the widow also felt at ease, knowing that Uhtred would risk his life for her without a second thought, even though she had shown such disdain for him in the past. As their horses reached a suitable clearing, Eadith dismounted and gently ran her hands through her mare’s mane. She glanced at each man in turn, watching their intense expressions as they prepared to set up camp.

Uhtred assisted Stiorra as she came down from her horse, clearly worried by his daughter’s welfare. The concern was plastered across his face like an illness, bending his features into a furious frown. Even though he displayed his hard exterior to the world, Eadith could see into Uhtred’s fragile heart. His care was his pride, but he would not speak it out loud. He nurtured his family, even those that were not of his blood. Finan, Sihtric and Osferth were his men, and she had never seen such ferocious loyalty. It made her feel wistful, envious of such a bond.

Then there was Sihtric. A bold warrior with beautiful markings across his fingers, and eyes that could pierce your soul. His appearance was unnerving, frightening even. But Eadith was not scared, not when she’d seen his softness. Sihtric’s dark eyes always lit up when he spoke of his friends, practically melting when he looked at his family. She’d been embraced by him, smiling when his big arms enveloped her back. The scent of his skin was salty, a musk that must’ve enamoured many women before. Sometimes she wondered if his sweat would taste just as potent, and cursed herself for the thought.

Speaking of intrusive thoughts, her mind was just as equally fuelled by lust when she looked at Finan. Irish charm was no myth, and she admired the way the warrior seemed to laugh his way out of any situation. His humour was a lovely trait, and his smile could thaw the coldest heart. If there was ever any animosity in the atmosphere, Finan’s presence always offered a comical reprieve, and she was intensely grateful for that. Eadith had shared heated glances with both Sihtric and Finan, the dusky orbs shaking her to the core. But there was one man that refused to meet her gaze and she was intrigued, drawn to him just as much if not more than the other men.

Osferth was a fascinating man. Baby monk, as he was affectionately named by his family. He was shy and dutiful, bumbling around with a red face whenever someone chided him. His quaint behaviours and piety was to be admired, but Eadith sensed intimacy lurking beneath the surface. It was his bashful nature that led her to believe that he was hiding something, perhaps a deep, searing need to be seen. The other men were often boastful of their conquests, whereas the monk seemed to be ignored and overlooked. Eadith had no idea why, when he was such a beautiful man. It wasn’t beauty alone, Osferth was intensely striking, his intricate features were unique and singular. Whether it was his soft cerulean eyes, or the subtle slope of his strong nose, Eadith couldn’t be sure where her attraction formed. It could’ve been the knife edge of his sculpted chin, or his bright bronze ruffles, but she suspected it was a combination of everything.

However, it wasn’t his appearance that held her back from approaching him. She’d been so sharp with him over Aelfwynn, she was certain that he would not welcome her advances. He hadn’t spoken to her for days, and she missed the sweet cadence of his gentle voice. With a shrug, she headed to the waterfall to bathe, hoping that an opportunity might present itself. She didn’t know that her night would end up in pristine pleasure.

Tag list: (I thought you guys might like to have a nose at what I'm up to hehe)

@lord-aldhelm @lancedoncrimsonwings @grinningkatz @book-and-music-lover @waterfallsilverberrywrites

@persephones-journey @thenameswinter99 @whitedarkmoonflower @bilbotargaryen @synintheraven @paula-in-dreamland

[the-common-cowgirl]

The Lost Children

- Chapter 5

Summary: You get to an inn on the road and the lie must continue under the watch of two of Edward’s men. You and Osferth must share a room and dun…dun…duhhhhh…..there’s one bed. Words are shared and feelings - along with other things - arise.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, Innuendos, Cursing, Blasphemy, Religious guilt, Period typical slut shaming, mentions of sex work, sexual tension, spiteful pet names, slight dry humping? Reader not really being a menace anymore!

A/N: if you enjoy this, please let me know by commenting, liking, sending me a message or rebloging - it keeps me motivated! Lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

In the days following your near-intimate encounter with Osferth, he grew cold toward you and distanced himself from you except whenever necessary. Eadith now only tended to your wound and once you were able to walk again, Osferth had urged Uhtred to sell the wagon and buy a horse for you so the entire gang could move faster and freer without the burden of a large wagon trailing behind the riders. Without the burden of you in Osferth’s space, you thought.

Two days after Osferth made the request, you rode into a little village on the coast of East Anglia with a decent livery stable and Uhtred went in alone to trade the wagon in exchange for a steed.

Uhtred walked out of the stable with a young, brown mare that had an upside down fishhook on her face. She was sturdily built and looked like a far more capable horse than the wagon horse Osferth had kept for himself. You assumed bitterly that Uhtred would give the dashing brown mare with the hook on her face to Osferth and leave the little flaxen wagon horse for you but Uhtred neared you with a grin on his face and handed you the reins. “She’s yours.”

You looked into your father’s eyes - Uhtred’s eyes - trying to find his jest or maybe an ulterior motive but he looked genuine, if not apologetic. You took the reins in one hand while the other hand ran along the muscular neck of the young mare, appreciating the strength and fire she seemed to posses under her shiny, young coat, much unlike the horse he had given you before. You looked to Uhtred again and almost smiled, “Thank you, she’s perfect.”

Uhtred smiled. Triumphant and bold. You knew then, this horse was an apology of sorts from Uhtred. You’d accept the mare, not the apology. He’d have to try harder, do better.

You hoisted yourself into the saddle of the mare, pain shooting through your healing leg but as soon as you relaxed on her back, it settled into a small ache. The rest of the group mounted their horses too, waiting Uhtred’s direction.

“The livery owner said there is an inn only a short distance north of the village on this road.” Uhtred looked around to his men with a gleam in his eye, “We shall race?”

Finan whooped and turned his horse around. Before you knew it, he took off North, Sihtric following close behind. Uhtred kicked his horse into a gallop next and your new mare beneath you danced in anticipation of following the others.

Truly, you wished you had time to know her before you took off. If she was spooky, hard to control, or even a bit wild but the mare gave you no chance, she took off in pursuit of the other three horses racing without permission from you.

The first ten or so strides, you tried to pull her up, slow her down but she wasn’t having any of it. If anything, your struggling spurred her on more and she set a faster pace. Even though you were a good distance from the three that took off first, you caught up to them in little time, then you passed them without much effort.

Finally deciding the speed in which your mare could move was something to be treasured, not afraid of, you squeezed your heels into the mare and released the pressure from the reins. She raised her head slightly at the loss of tension and picked up an even faster pace. Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes from the wind smacking your face and you laughed to yourself giddily. Soon, you both passed a row of trees to see the inn on the other side but your mare wasn’t slowing down now that she was leagues in front of the rest of the group. You sat deep and spoke to her lowly, trying to get her to slow down, which she eventually did, not before you were a good distance north of the inn.

Once she stopped, you patted her strong neck and thanked her for your ride. Her breathing was rushed and she broke a sweat but she seemed to have more fire within in her to sprint for miles longer. After some time of sitting there and letting both of you catch your breath, you heard one of the horses in the distance near the inn whinny and your mare snorted impatiently and turned south on her own, walking briskly back toward the inn. You laughed at her demeanor and you knew that this pairing was right. It’s like Uhtred asked the livery owner for a horse just like yourself.

That thought made you chuckle, perhaps he did.

When you got back to the inn, you saw the rest of the crew’s horses tied up outside and you quickly figured that they must already be inside. You hopped off your mare, pain struck in your healing leg. You were used to riding shorter horses and had forgotten about your leg entirely from the adrenaline of the ride with your new mare. You stumbled backwards from the pain only to find two hands that caught you from falling into the mud.

“I’ve got you,” Osferth’s voice rang into your hair as he set you upright on your balance again.

You felt that familiar feeling of anger boil up in your chest at Osferth coming in to rescue you after pretending you didn’t exist for so long. You turned to Osferth with an expression of confusion and disgust written across your face so clearly it made him take a step back, “What happened to you avoiding my existence? You know, since I am such a sinner. What about those lessons you were teaching me? You’d prefer to have me die then teach me how to defend myself?”

You were growing heated in your body from the fire and anger raging in your heart. This was the first time you had talked to Osferth since he practically called you a harlot, and you’d let him have all your rage. You voice was growing louder now and you figured in your mind that the best time for the truth was the present, you could regret it later if you needed to. “You know, there was a time when I lust after you? I thought our unique upbringings made us equals. However, I was wrong in both aspects, you’re nothing but a pious,” you took a step closer to him, “self-loathing,” another step, “little,” you were nearly nose to nose, “monk-“

He cut you off before you could add the “-ey” at the end of monk, just to add insult to injury but Osferth would never know since his hands now reside firmly, nearly painfully on the back of your head and over your mouth. He had a firm hold of your head and brought it closer to him, his lips, as he spoke these next words lowly and threateningly through his teeth and into your ear.

“Two of Edwards men are in the inn. They had begun questioning Uhtred and I on your whereabouts when you did not come in with us.” He removed the hand from your mouth, leaving the one on the back of your head, tangled in your long hair to keep you from moving away from him. “You remember that we are supposed to be lovers right?”

You looked into his blue eyes, blown wide with - adrenaline? And you scoffed. “That will be a hard task for us. To pretend to be lovers, to pretend to even like each other…”

Osferth rolled his eyes and detangled his hand from the back of your hair. His hand fell down your shoulder, arm, and found purchase in your hand. Weaving his fingers with your own, “come along. We’ll pretend you’re not feeling well and just wait tonight out in our room.”

“OUR room?” You echoed as he drug you toward the inn’s door. Before entering the door, he handed a coin to a boy near the door, “Please unsaddle, feed, and water her mare.” He pointed toward the big brown mare at the end who was shifting nervously. “And if you have room in any in the barn, please stall her. She looks like she will tear the hitching post down.”

“Like myself with the inn if you force me to sleep in the same bed with you.”

Osferth only rolled his eyes in annoyance at your retort. Pushing the door to the inn open, “Time to pretend.”

You had quickly made your way to the second story of the inn while Osferth made fake excuses for you to Uhtred (who was sitting with both of Edward’s men) and explained he’d retire with you to make certain you were well throughout the night. When Osferth found you waiting in the landing of the inn’s second story, he showed you your room. Your shared room.

It was smaller than the room in Winchester and there was one bed….of course there was one bed. “You’re sleeping on the ground,” you stated as the door shut and you walked further into the room.

Osferth grunted, “As my Lady wishes.”

Surprised he had not given up more of a fight for the comfort of the mattress, you turned around to where he was in the corner of the room - undressing. Seeing only his top, chiseled half as he left his trousers on. You feigned being struck in the eye with an arrow and turned as if in pain.

“Osferth! You could have let me know you were getting nude! I would have stepped out of the room!”

Osferth only rolled his eyes at your comment which you did not see due to your hands protectively covering your eyes. “If you would have stepped out for me to change, that would raise suspicion.”

He walked to the door behind you.

“I doubt Edward s men are up here now waiting with their ears to our door. Should we jump on the bed to feign lovemaking or can you just whimper and moan all night in your sleep to make the entire inn believe that we are humping?”

You turned to Osferth with a devilish smile on your lips, hoping that your crude words had embarrassed him but he only stood with his hand on the doorknob, half naked with his robe in his hands, staring at your darkly. You had to admit, this took you aback.

“Tis not the man that whimper and moans,” he corrected you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, unsure if you had heard him right. “What?”

Osferth leaned in close, “Women are the creatures of sound in the act.”

You felt you chest heat up and a strange feeling in your core. “I wouldn’t know,” you breathed out honestly.

He eyed you up and down, then hummed to himself as if deciding against his internal wishes, “God would want to keep you that way. Innocent until marriage.”

You narrowed your eyes, “God can go fuck himself.” You nearly spat as you walked away from Osferth with a strange sense of defeat. “Where are you going anyway?” You turned back to him with your arms crossed over his chest.

Osferth dropped his dark gaze and seemingly returned to his recent self. Cold and rude. “Since you won and exceeded the little race we had, you didn’t see me come dead last on the little wagon pony. Nor did you see the little beast throw me at the end of the road.”

You giggled at Osferth loosing and being covered in mud. You wished you could have seen him fall. “So you’re going to wash your clothes?”

He nodded, opening the door. “And take a warm bath to ease the aches of the fall.” He stepped out, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, my love,” you called as he gave you one last tired look and shut the door.

You were asleep in the bed when the door to your room opened and Osferth stepped through. He viewed your sleeping frame and was abruptly reminded that when you slept was the only time you looked peaceful, angelic even. He thought bitterly to himself as he blew out the candles of the room you had kept going for his return, that if you were as peaceful when you were awake as you were when you were asleep, maybe he’d marry you. Start a family with you. If only you loved God as he did. If only you were tame and gentle. If only you weren’t a heathen daughter who was content in sin, maybe there would be a future in which you and him could live as man and wife. Away from fighting and politics of the crown. Away from places where words like “bastard” or “lost” followed you two around. Maybe, in another life, there was a world where things were different. He could only dream though, he knew that. Heaven existed after death, not during life. Life was for suffering, if the monastery taught him anything, it was that. So he’d have to suffer and pine after things that could not be, like a life where he could love you.

You stirred as the second to last candle was blown out and Osferth turned to view your sleepy stare on him. “I can sleep on the ground,” you said with a tired gravel to your voice. “You’re hurt.”

Osferth felt heat embrace his cheeks and he almost smiled, “No, you can have the bed. It’s improper for me to let a lady sleep on the ground.”

Suddenly, you shocked him, offering a gentle kindness by moving the covers of the side of the somewhat spacious bed that wasn’t being used by you. “You can sleep with me then.” He stared at you with trepidation, wondering if this was a good idea, “I don’t bite,” you said turning onto the other side and your back facing him.

He wondered to himself if this was a good idea. The aches in his bones told him yes but his own morality told him no. Eventually, he decided to join you in the bed, moral loosing to physical ache and if not for an ache in his bones, an ache somewhere else.

The bed was soft, the covers were warm. The person lying next to Osferth in bed was quiet….until you weren’t.

“I was just reciprocating the feelings I felt in the moment.” Your voice was so small now, full of defense but no malice. It was strange for both of you to hear it that way.

Osferth lie with his back flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the night. “What?”

You took in a deep breath next to him, it made the bed move slightly. “I thought you wanted me too.”

Osferth now sighed, long and quietly through his nose. He did. He wanted you so badly that night. So much he cursed himself as he left the wagon you were in, lying defenseless and denied. “I’m sorry I gave you that impression,” he spoke with an underlying tone of bitterness.

You took in a shaky breath next to him. He wondered if you were on the verge of tears. “Gave you that impression,” you echoed, “sure.” You sounded defeated.

Osferth turned on his side and grabbed your shoulder, pulling you gently to rest on your back. You looked over at him through the plushness of your pillow and side of your eye. His fingers lingered on the shoulder of your shirt, gently rubbing the tips in a confined space he had drawn on your body, daring not to move further but also not having the restraint to pull his touch from you.

“I struggle still with the set of morals which I was raised on.” His voice was a whisper, daring not to raise in fear that God would hear. “I know I’m a sinner - in many ways. For that, I repent daily.” His fingers stopped, he was lost in thought, you could tell from the distance look in his eyes. A silent second passed before he focused again, “But I cannot, in good grace, bring others into a life of sin.”

You shook your head, “You didn’t just refused me Osferth, you made me feel like a common whore.” You stared into his eyes, seeing odd regret. “And if I ask to commit atrocities against God with you, it’s my choice, not yours. My choice on my own path of damnation.”

Osferth blinked away your blasphemy, choosing to pretend he had not heard it. “I cannot take your innocence. I won’t be a part of a sin of that nature.”

You scoffed, “But you can fuck desperate women who had to turn to a life of whoring to escape starving.” You rolled to your side, your back to Osferth again. You’d had enough of his stupid excuses.

You both lied in silence so long you thought he had went to sleep. “Not all of them.”

“What?” You turned around angrily, thinking he should have been to sleep. Propping yourself on an elbow, you looked down at him and he looked up to you.

“You made a broad assumption about brothel maids and you’re wrong.” His eyes were soft.

You narrowed yours. “Oh so you get to know them too? Tell me, do you have a favorite?” You mocked him with a fury.

Osferth chucked, “It’s hard not to get to know them when you’re-“

You held up a hand in disgust, “I don’t need to know what you do to them.”

Osferth raised on an elbow and mirrored you in challenge, his own eyes narrowing. “I thought you would want to know what I do with them since you’ve been begging me to bed you.”

His words shocked you beyond comprehension and when you regained your composure, you slapped him across the face.

Osferth reached up and rubbed his face, looking at you darkly.

“I wasn’t begging, I was simply reciprocating what I believed were shared feelings. It’s clear I was wrong, I’ll admit.”

Osferth grabbed your free hand and pulled you flush against him, now lying on his back. You were sprawled atop his body, lying your full weight on it. You felt a hard, strange length against your stomach. Once you escaped your state of shock of his bold actions you raised yourself up on your arms and looked to him below you with bewilderment.

“What has gotten in to you?” You exclaimed a little too loud.

Osferth breathed out a needy sigh and pushed you flush against him with a strong hand on your back. “I just want you to know, the feelings are reciprocated. I pray every morning and night, sometimes even when you were in the wagon behind me, for God to end my lust for you would come to an abrupt end.” He reached up and brushed your long hair behind your shoulders. You felt the hard length against your stomach again and realized finally what it was when Osferth bucked ever so slightly into your weight above him. “As He often does, God denied me.” Osferth leaned up to kiss you. Eyes closing, lips pursing and you pulled away, off of him.

He looked confused at your sudden denial. “No, you’re not allowed to decide you suddenly want my body because your piety failed you,” you practically spat. You stood from the bed, looking down to Osferth who was more confused than hurt. “If you want me, you’re going to have to earn me again. You’ve been nothing but a pious prick since that night in the wagon.”

You grabbed the feather pillow from your side and all the covers from the bed, making a place to sleep on the floor. “Enjoy the bed.”

Taglist: @godrakin @tssf-imagines @brianochka @victoriagaunt @fan-goddess @sarahkimtae

*Bold means I cannot tag you!*

Also, here is my horse that is written into this chapter! I couldn’t help myself honestly, I just had to.

Her name is Hooker!

[alexagirlie]

Monstreous May Part 4 - The Undead

(Masterlist)

A/N: I love vampire boys! This series takes place adjacent to my Vampire Fic The Latest Plague, some parts take place before, some during and some after. Divider by cafekitsune

Pairing: Osferth/Sihtric

Rating: M

Words: 1305

TWs: vampires. vigrin osferth. first times. grinding. feeding. feeding kink. oral sex. masturbation. teasing.

Summary: Osferth joined the group in Coccham and after seeing how unnerved by being surrounded by the undead made the young man, Sihtric goes out of his way to make the baby monk feel safe and welcome.

Taglist: @gemini-mama @foxyanon @legitalicat

When Sihtric first met Osferth he wasn't sure what to make of the young man dressed in the robes of a christian monk who approached Uhtred on the step outside Aethelflaed's wedding. He wasn’t paying as much attention as he probably should have been, distracted as he was by what he had seen in that graveyard. Distracted by the promise of a hunt with Uhtred and Finan for a job well done, followed by a good and proper humping.

Finding Osferth in Coccham after the journey to Lunden and Uhtred's meeting with the Thurgilson brothers was a surprise. He honestly hadn't thought the baby monk would show up and yet there he was, sitting at Gisela's table, eating a bowl of hot stew.

Sihtric wanted to be mistrustful of a Christian son of King Alfred but he felt a kinship to the other young man for being born a bastard. He knew the kind of shame that came with that so decided to give Osferth the benefit of the doubt. 

He started with just observing Osferth, learning what he could and trying to find a good opening to approach the other man. Sihtric got the opportunity when he saw how unnerved Osferth was by the vampires in Uhtred's household. The flash of fear whenever one of the vampire's let some of their nature show. 

Most of Coccham inhabitants were human, but several of Uhtred's personal guards, Finan and Sihtric included, were all vampires, along with the Lord himself. While Osferth had heard much of Uhtred from his Uncle prior to his death, he obviously had not heard the news of Uhtred being turned and didn't know how to react.

Sihtric decided that much like he had done with Finan, he would show Osferth that vampires were more than what the church taught that they were. That they were not soulless monsters set only on killing, so Sihtric goes out of his way to make the baby monk feel safe and welcome.

He started simply, by inviting Osferth to join him and Finan during meals; they needed blood to heal and thrive but could eat when the occasion called for it. He offered to show him around Coccham, had Osferth join him in caring for the horses, and he even offered to begin his sword training.

They end up spending a lot of time alone together, discussing their upbringings, their shared status as bastards, even their religion and over time became quite close. Sihtric had never realized how close until one sunny afternoon spent laying by the river Osferth leaned over and kissed him.

It was just a chaste press of lips, over before Sihtric had a chance to react but it was enough to spark the start of their relationship. Now most of their time together concluded with kissing and soft touches. It was slow and sweet, exploring, and so very different from Sihtric's other two relationships. Both Uhtred and Finan had come to Sihtric already well versed as lovers, Osferth was Sihtric first virgin and he found he quite liked teaching the other man all the ways to feel good.

As Osferth's confidence grew, so did the boldness of his actions. Chaste kisses became open mouthed, with tongue and teeth, deep enough to leave them both breathless. Soft touches moved under clothing and grip turned tight enough to leave bruises, prompting hips to grind together. Their relationship continued to escalate until one night, as the two lay entwined on Sihtric's bed, the vampire on his back with Osferth cradled snugly between his thighs, when Osferth propped himself up on an elbow and asked for something Sihtric never expected.

“Would you feed from me, Sihtric?”

Sihtric was completely caught off guard, he hadn't expected Osferth to want such a thing but he couldn't help the mixture of arousal and excitement which filled his body.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes please,” He reassured, voice soft but earnest, “I wish to know what it feels like.”

Sihtric turned them over so Osferth was sprawled on his back and they removed his tunic so his chest was bare.

Sihtric kissed up his stomach, his chest, paying special attention to the curve of new muscles which had started to form on the other man after weeks of training. He worked his way up to Osferth's mouth and they spent several long minutes kissing and grinding together until a flush of arousal had spread across Osferth's cheeks and down his chest.

Sihtric separated them enough so he could whisper in Osferth's ear, “ready?” He asked, nipping the skin below his mouth.

Osferth moaned and tipped his head back, “yes! Please!” He begged, squirming impatiently from underneath the Dane. 

Sihtric licked a line from Osferth's ear down to where his pulse beat most enticingly in his neck and bites down. The taste of Osferth's blood flooded his mouth, sweet and rich and hot and Sihtric moaned as he took the first swallow. He gripped Osferth tightly by the hips as the younger man whined, desperate and loud as his hips bucked up and their hard cocks ground together in their trousers.

Sihtric only swallowed a few delicious mouthfuls before he pulled back and licked the wound until it closed. It didn't want to risk taking too much and hurting Osferth.

Osferth didn't smell hurt, he smelled like a mix of arousal and embarrassment and that wouldn't do. He didn't have any reason to be embarrassed, Sihtric liked that he enjoyed being fed on. Liked it even more then when Uhtred or Finan got aroused from having his fangs in their flesh.

Sihtric cupped Osferth's cheek and made the other man meet his gaze. Osferth's eyes were hazy with arousal and his face was deep red.

“Good?” He asked, just to be sure.

Osferth nodded wordlessly and Sihtric felt his cock throbbed at the confirmation that sweet, christian-raised Osferth, enjoyed being fed on, even if the fact did embarrass him.

“Sihtric…. Please” Osferth begged, face going even redder.

“What do you want?”

“Touch me please.” They had never taken that step before but Sihtric was more than willing. He rolled his hips down testingly, and when Osferth threw his head back and groaned he did it again, and again. Chasing the embarrassment away until it was replaced with just the tantalizing smell of arousal and desperation, Osferth's arms wrapped around his shoulders and held Sihtric tight.

Sihtric pulled them to the edge of the bed and ignoring Osferth's protests, slid off the side to drop to his knees between Osferth’s thighs. Osferth caught on to his intentions quickly and together they got his trousers unlaced and his cock out. It was long and slender, just like the man it was attached to, and Sihtric wasted no time getting his mouth on it.

It was over fast, Osferth's inexperience combined with his already heightened state of arousal had him spilled down Sihtric's throat in no time, gasping and whining so sweetly.

Sihtric barely gets a hand around his own cock before he was spilling on the floor, coming like a green boy himself. 

Osferth was still catching his breath when Sihtric pulled himself off the floor and helped the younger man get himself tucked away. Deciding to ignore his own mess on the floor for the time being he crawled back onto the bed, pulling Osferth into his arms instead. They fall asleep like that, Sihtric holding Osferth tightly to his chest.

The next morning when Osferth and Sihtric arrived for the day's training together, clothing rumpled and with Sihtric's bite mark clearly visible on Osferth's neck Uhtred and Finan shared a knowing look. Sihtric groaned to himself, but accepted the teasing comments with good cheer and got them back by putting first Finan, then Uhtred on their ass the first chance he got.

[eastern-lights]

I feel like Alfred and Uhtred's whole dynamic is that of a chessmaster getting totally stumped by his opponent's bold and unique strategy, because said opponent has never played chess before and just moves the pieces at random.

[asa-do-your-thing]

An Eye for an Eye - 02

“Banter” 

Osferth x F! OC - 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions violence / rape / kidnapping / castration, period accurate gender stereotypes, talk of forced marriage, slight angst, fluff, sexual innuendos

Chapter Summary:  Aemma's dream reveals a significant prophecy, fueling her determination to recover and heal. Sharing her harrowing ordeal of abduction and attempted rape with the men, she believes her future is tarnished. However, Osferth offers her a glimmer of hope by suggesting she join their group instead of returning to Coccham. Uhtred grants her permission to stay, and as they journey towards Glastonburh, a newfound connection blossoms between Aemma and Osferth, evident in their playful banter and flirtation.

Aemma awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest, as if it were about to burst. She had been dreaming, of a mighty victory, of a powerful Dane that had threatened her peace, of a brave man, Osferth, who she had saved from certain death.

She felt the energy flowing through her veins, her wounds healing, her fever broken. She opened her eyes and felt the warmth of the fire in the tent, its light filling the space.

She couldn't remember much of her rescue and only felt herself waking up every now and then when either Osferth or one of the other men had come to give her something to eat and drink and to change the dressings on her back.

She looked around, feeling a sense of familiarity and yet, something strange and new. She slowly sat up, feeling a bit wobbly as she did. Her gaze slowly adjusted to the flickering of the firelight, and she saw that her tent was guarded by Osferth, Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric, who all sat at their breakfasts.

Aemma reached out and felt a bandage covering her lower back. Her wounds had healed well and her strength had returned to her. How had this happened?

She thought back to the dream, to the mighty Dane and the brave Osferth. She remembered the fierce duel, the mighty blow of her blade, and the satisfaction of her victory. She realized that the dream had given her the strength she needed to wake up and that it had been her dream that had healed her. She needed, when the time had come, to save Osferth's life.

Aemma slowly got up and stepped out of the tent. The morning was a warm one; the green grass was still covered in dew. She took a deep breath and felt a sense of peace and well-being wash over her. She walked over to the men and gave them a little wave. "Uh.. Good Morning..."

Osferth smiled. "Morning! And I'm glad to see you well again. How do you feel?" He put his food away and got up to greet her with the rest of the men, clearly happy to see her well again. He offered her some of his bread.

Aemma blinked a few times and scratched her head, her long, dark hair clumped together with blood and sweat. "I feel... alive", she said matter-of-factly. She stared at the man with the blue eyes, before it dawned on her that it was Uhtred, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, where upon she fell into a deep curtsy. "My Lord, I.... thank you", she mumbled out, blushing furiously.

Uhtred chuckled and shook his head, tearing a piece of bread off for himself. "No need to bow, my lady, we had to help you, we couldn't leave you to perish, could we? Please, have some breakfast, you must be so hungry. I'm glad to see you're well, we were all worried about you."

She nodded greatfully and sat down next to Osferth, taking his offered bread. "Thank you for finding and rescuing me, Osferth...", she said, her mouth full of tasty bread.

"You're more then welcome, my lady. Please, help yourself to whatever food or drink you'd like", Osferth said with a warm smile and poured himself and Aemma a cup of Ale and passed it to her."Was there any particular reason you tried to venture off on your own? If it's not too bold of me to ask."

Aemma blushed, embarassed. "I only wanted to fetch herbs and berries for mother so we could make spiced ale and cider again. Then... I can't really remember, it's still fuzzy in my mind... Someone hit me over the head, the next thing I knew he took me into a forest and tried...", she paused and tried her hardest to bite back her tears. She nervously looked down onto the ground.

"Tried... ruining my reputation... if you know what I mean. Then... I think I kicked him, he stabbed me, I gouged one of his eyes out and started running. I shake my head and sip some ale. I can't remember more... I know, I was a fool, I should've gone with someone else or with a dagger..."

Osferth snarled in rage, his clenched fists trembling with the power of his hatred for Aemma's attacker. Fury boiled in his veins and he ground his teeth as he spoke. "Whoever did this will pay dearly. No woman should ever have to bear such an atrocity." His face twisted into a scowl as he kicked the earth beneath his feet. "I wish I could have taken that fiend's life with my own hands! I have no mercy for these kinds of men!"

Shrugging, Aemma pointed to the massive sprawl of woodland around them. A vast expanse of dense trees and shrubs stretched out before them, dark shadows playing across the greenery. Moss and foliage clung to the trunks of trees as they grew taller than the horizon, their branches twisting and reaching out in all directions. Birds soared between them and the forest floor was alive with small creatures, running and jumping around in the underbrush. The air was fresh with the smell of pine and the distant sound of running water.

"I doubt it. He's probably somewhere out there... I mean, you're more than likely to kill him if you'd like", Aemma muttered, turned towards him and gave him a little smile. "It's alright though. I'm just an alehouse-girl, my life isn't really important anyhow. The only thing I do is serve ale and scrub the vomit-covered floors." She said with a wink, remembering how he liked to overindulge sometimes in her father's alehouse.

Osferth watched as the Aemma's eyes filled with tears, even though she tried to lift the mood. His heart ached—he wanted to make her feel better, to let her know how much she meant to him and to everyone else. He reached over and took her hand in his, gently squeezing and caressing it.

"My lady," he said softly. "You are so strong and brave. Your life is just as important as anyone else's, no matter your station or rank. Don't ever talk down upon yourself again—we all admire you for your courage and resilience. Not everyone could gouge an eye out after being stabbed."

Aemma trembled, her head bowed in despair. She tried to hide the greasy, bloody strands of hair that framed her face, but it was of no use. "What you say is easy for you," she spat, her voice rising with anger. "You are a fearless warrior amongst the most powerful in Wessex, while I will return home to my family and be married off to the first man who shows interest. To him I must bear children, or suffer the consequences!" With sorrow in her eyes, she quietly shook her head. "Forgive me; I did not mean to cause offense."

Osferth smiled and nodded."I'm sure you will find a good man, and I mean that. Just please don't let them force you to marry someone you don't want, be strong and be proud. If you ever want to be free, you can always come to Wintancaester, we'll protect you from any danger there and you'll never have to worry about anything again," he said warmly. "You can never offend me my lady, please, never think that."

She arched an eyebrow and smiled at him, as she had just gotten a genius idea. "And what if... We want to get revenge together? And because it would be too "shameful" for me to return home... May I join you so they may repay you for rescuing me? I can cook, sew and fight decently."

Osferth looked up at you, his smile slowly widening."Did you think I was going to turn down such an opportunity? Few young women get a chance like this - to join a team of the most gifted warriors in the kingdom. It is like a blessing that had been bestowed upon me."

Aemma's smile brightened as she caught sight of Uhtred, and she hurried over. Her wide eyes were full of hope and her voice was bubbly when she spoke. "Lord Uhtred, please allow me to join you! Please, please, please?" She begged him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Uhtred smiled at her excitement, shaking his head in amusement. "Of course, you may, my lady, if you wish", he said and nodded, "You'd be surprised how many brave women I've fought with before, some of them even braver then some of the men." He chuckled at this but shook his head in thought. "I promise you you'll never be bored, there's always an adventure waiting for you with this group."

Finan grinned as Aemma jumped up, hugging Uhtred tightly and then kissing him, Sihtric and Osferth on their cheeks. "You're my saving graces! I shall forever be indebted to you."

"Go get your bags and prepare to ride, once you're ready, you'll be a full member of this group, my only request is that you take on a new name, one to suit a warrior instead of alehouse-girl", Osferth mused and gave her a playful shove.

Aemma's eye roll was light but deliberate, her head turning slightly as if to make sure that everyone had seen it. Her expression was full of playfulness, her cheeks flush with amusement. "You know i have nothing except for the dirty clothes on me. I'll go wash myself and my clothes and then I'll be ready. You can decide on my nickname then, Osferth", she said and stretched herself seductively. "I take it you want to make sure that I'm.... Safe while i bathe?"

He gave her a sly side eye and smirked."I didn't even think of that but I don't see any harm in it," he chuckled at her, his eyes lingering on her for a second longer then usual, "Go and get cleaned up, and we'll talk about your new name later." Amma nodded and walked toward the creek, slightly wincing at her sore muscles.

 She quickly threw off her dress and untied her dress, dipping into the fresh water. "No peeping!", she screamed towards the men and quickly washed herself. When she was clean, she walked back to him and grinned. "Now you can see that I usually don't look like a swamp witch."

Osferth chuckled. "Of course I wasn't going to peep, no need to worry. Now for the part I think you're going to enjoy. What would you like to change your name to, to better suit a brave warrior woman such as yourself?"

Aemma winked and grinned with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Suuuure, of course you didn't peep. Like I'd believe that" she said mockingly with a hint of amusement in her voice. She helped him gather his supplies and leaned against his horse, scratching it's side affectionately as if it was her own loyal steed. Her long damp hair curled up in tight ringlets around her face, framing it beautifully. "How about Aemma the Eye-gouger? Or is that too brutal?"

Osferth smiled softly as he watched her. He had never seen anyone like her before. She was strong and brave, but also had an air of playfulness to her that made him feel at ease. He admired that trait in a person and knew she would be an extraordinary warrior one day.

 "Why would it be too brutal? The story behind it just makes you sound even more dangerous and strong in my opinion", Osferth responded, letting admiration show on his features, "Aemma the Eye-gouger, the lady everyone will fear in the future, a feared warrior not to be reckoned with. Does that suit your fancy, Lady Aemma?"

She nodded her head and let out a bemused giggle. “So you’re the baby monk or the virgin boy, right?” she quipped, glancing over to see the others already preparing their horses. “How did you get these nicknames--or rather, why are they still used?”

Osferth glanced downward, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. It was clear that someone at the alehouse had been gossiping about him. His friends were always teasing him with those old childhood nicknames, knowing how much it mortified him. He tried desperately to put the past behind him and move on.

He cleared his throat and shot her an inquisitive look, wondering what other stories people had been telling about him in town. “Do... do you have any other nicknames?” he sheepishly asked, twirling the hilt of his sword in nervous circles.

Aemma wiggled her brows, trying to wind him up. "Mmh, let's see if ... Your nickname and reputation can be changed", she said, winking playfully. "Uhm well, next to alehouse girl and Aemma the eye-gouger i don't really have any others", she said nervously.

He blushed and looked down to hide it, a little embarrassed."I think Aemma the Eye-gouger suits you well, you're very intimidating with your looks and I'd be scared seeing you come at me in battle." Chuckling, he nodded as Sihtric told me that it was time leave. "So you don't think you'll need another nickname then?", he asked playfully.

Aemma stood back, letting him hop onto his horse. "Hopefully I'll not cause my enemies to laugh", she mumbled and climbed up behind him, tightly holding his waist. They spurred  their horses and began traveling towards Glastonburh, which was only an hour away from them. There, Uhtred has promised her to get her supplies so she could continue traveling with them.

 "How about, Aemma the seductress? Or Aemma the sinful?", she whispered into Osferth's ear, giggling.

“What exactly are you implying, my dear?” Osferth said, blushing furiously as she embraced him from behind. He gave her a sly smile before continuing. “You should really start using that nickname more often--Aemma the Sinful does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Just then, Finan rode up and burst out laughing. “Did I just hear you call her Aemma the Sinful, Osferth? It seems she already has you wrapped around her little finger!” The two old friends shared a laugh before Osferth responded with a shrug and a wide grin. “Hey, can you blame me? She’s strong and beautiful, who wouldn’t want to spend their time with her? I am truly the lucky one here.”

Aemma giggled and watched as Uhtred spurred his horse to go quicker. In the distance, Aemma could see the small city of Glastonburh. Its buildings shone brightly in the sun, their stone walls reflecting a myriad of colors as the light danced off of them. The town square bustled with people, merchants hawking their wares, and animals scurrying around in search of food. The city gates stood tall and imposing against the horizon, a beacon of safety and shelter in an otherwise hostile world.

 "Osferth? And what... What would happen if I see my attacker? Can I just kill him or should I report it to someone?", she whispered quietly.

"If you see your attacker, you are very well within your rights to kill him yourself in my opinion. It would only make you look stronger for doing it", Osferth remarked, "But it would be best to tell the elders to let people know that there's a man who attacks defenseless women in the woods. It's your choice how you want to deal with it my lady. Do we know the village that the man lives in at all?"

Aemma nodded in determination, her dark eyebrows set in a frown on her pale face. "Yes, please do so. Although I have the faint feeling that he doesn't just go after any young women, he knew my name... But yes, off course Osferth, tell the others so that they can protect their daughters and wives", she said encouragingly. 

She tried her best to remember her assailant but she could not seem to recognize him. "I haven't a clue to who he might be. It should be easy to find him, he only has one eye, after all. And long black hair, that's the most I can remember."

"I will make sure to do so and warn the people of the danger in the woods", he said and tried getting closer to her, speaking lower. "If I do find this man I promise you I'll have him hung by his feet from a tree, he will be punished I can assure you of that."

She cracked her knuckles demonstratively and sighed, seeing as they came closer to the town. "That sounds wonderful, that way I can castrate him better."

 She then smiled as she tugged her torn dress around her waist. "I'm looking forward to getting a gown that doesn't look like a ripped sack of grain. Do you think my enemies will fear me if i look beautiful?", she asked flirtatiously.

"They will fear you and worship you in the same breath my lady. Your beauty will drive them wild with fear and lust, they will pray you show mercy", Osferth said and winked at you once again, noticing Sihtric and other men looked their way, smirking and laughing. "You're too much for them my lady, your beauty and ferocity will turn them to weak men at your feet."

Aemma let out an enchanting laugh that tickled his ear, her arms wrapping around his neck from behind. She planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, before whispering "oh hush, you flatter me too much. But I'll admit it feels good." She winked and took a step back, her hand lingering on him. "You know that flattery will only get you so far?" Her voice was like honey and she tilted her head just so, one of her hands resting lightly on his arm.

Osferth blushed, taken aback for a moment as she hugged him, laughing at her playfulness. "Flattery only gets so far? And what is it that gets you so much further?", he asked nervously, giving her a cute wink.

Uhtred shook his head and Finan grinned widely. "Give her some of your silver and let her buy her trinkets and I'll show you! You know nothing, baby Monk", he said playfully and winked at Aemma. "You want a real man, don't you, sweetcakes?", he asked cockily. She laughed and shook her head, resting it on Osferth's back. "My sweetcakes belong to Osferth, Irishman", she quipped.

Osferth turned bright red at her words and tried keeping his composure. "Oh, uh, I see now, that's what keeps a lady interested. So you mean to tell me that if I buy a lady gifts and trinkets then I'll get whatever I want? Even her... sweetcakes?"

Everyone erupted in laughter and dismounted their horses as they approached Glastonburh's stables. "Oh Osferth, you are a wonder to behold", Aemma giggled and walked up to Uhtred, "I shall see you in the tavern, my knight in shining armour", she said and blew him a kiss.

[arcielee]

Peace Beneath the City

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you spotted him. 

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

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

Well, he was different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A haven all your own. 

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

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

arcie’s masterlist  

[taylortaylormoon]

A little blurb.

(Bold statment belongs to @Dumplingsjinson) Loving Uhtred, son of Uhtred, was a death sentence. You knew this. Five Seasons of Last Kingdom showed you that, from Iesult to Gisela and Athelfled that there would be no happy ending for you two. This was to end with either your death (and not for the first time) or your return to your world (Unlikely but still a possibility).

But to have this man eat you out to the point you were seeing stars. Well, what a way to go. You came again, for the last time that night, as it all became too much. Uthred had finished cleaning you and himself, but you still felt dirty, not in a bad way, no, but in an unbelievably good sexy way.

He laid next to you pulling you close to his chest as he humned, his broad hands trailing up and down your arm leaving goosebumps. "What are you thinking about?" Uhtred asked in a whisper, "I have a crush on you, and by crush I mean like...i would die for you." way to open your big mouth. The reaction you gotten wasn't what you exspected but in all honesty you should of. He pulled back - Violently jumping from the bed and just starting at you, eyes filled with pain and rage. "Why would you-" "I didnt' mean it!" You shout pulling the furs up to your chest for some secrutiy. "I mean well i did, part of it..it was suppost to be like a romantic confession." "Nothing about death is romantic." He argues, pulling his pants back on and damn it he's gone from the room but hopefully not your life. (Part 2?)

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine you are Osferth's childhood best friend and you two finally admit the feelings you have for each other.

Inspiration: "Don't Go Away" by Oasis

***

You hate to be hurried, to make your tasks in a pace that is more that you can handle. You are a peasant who happens to hate when people tell you what to do in a frequency that makes you somehow doubt yourself.

Or maybe that is just the chaos your mind plagues you after feeling like you haven't given your best. You wish you could just run away, stay silent without wishing to please every one around you.

To worse matters, you are a damsel and unmarried. As you sit by the lake hugging your knees, you don't see him coming. Osferth was looking for you in this day he managed to come back to the capital and he wanted to visit you. He came to realize in the days he went off with Uhtred how you have always been his sweetheart.

You two were raised together in a monastery, but you did not feel like becoming a nun so you asked Osferth to help you find a family who would take you as you were--an orphan who was most likely an illegitimate child of a nobleman like Osferth was a natural son to King Ælfred.

Well, he did. And you were raised decently well, even he knows that. He always thought you of sweet disposition, often cheerful and funny, pious...and beautiful. Gorgeous, truly, with your y/c skin, y/c hair and those y/c eyes!

Osferth at first hesitates in telling you how he feels, but Uhtred encouraged him ("What is the worst that could happen?", he said, "If she is sweet tempered as you claim, she will not be unkind"). He even feels like going back home until seeing how upset you look.

Now he is leaving aside the desires of his heart for you. He wants to see you well, to make sure that whatever is distressing you shall pass.

"Oh hi Osferth!", you smile instantly when seeing him there. Your heart skips a beat. You often asked yourself if you were too deluded for nurturing the hope of being loved in return, because yes you love him. "What are you doing standing there? Please have a seat."

You pat the grass for him to sit and Osferth hates how easily he blushes at every word you say. But he sits with you nonetheless and is taken by surprise as you hug him.

"I missed you", you tell him.

Osferth smiles, holding you back, tightly so.

"Did you?"

"Aye. You took a very long time to come back, Osferth", you blush when realizing how obvious you sound. Yet when you look away, Osferth is inspired by you--and Uhtred's urge to be finally bold--and gently makes you look at him.

"Do excuse my behavior, dear Y/N. I should have sent you a letter but... I was afraid you'd not read it."

He too blushes. You, however, are slow to understand what is going on.

"What are you talking about, Osferth?"

"I was afraid you'd be...married when I returned", he whispers shyly, looking down at his hands and praying you'd not listen.

But you do.

Could it be?

You beam. It's your turn to make him look at you.

"If there is someone God allows me to marry, and please excuse my forwardness, sir, this ought to be you."

As Osferth looks up at you and finds a smile on your face, his heart skips a beat. He gently takes hold of your face, resting his forehead against yours.

"Be my wife and I swear to God that your days will no longer be disappointing."

"Being your wife is the holiest gift I could ever feel blessed, Osferth. Silly man, I've been waiting for so long."

"I love you, Y/N."

You smile at each other.

"And I you, Osferth."

It is then he finally takes the courage to pursuit your lips and never again unhappiness found solace in your heart.

[jens-holland]

While rewatching season 2 of Vikings Valhalla today, I brainstormed a few possible storylines that they might pursues for season 3.

Since Olaf is already dead and he was like,, technically meant to be a major player for another 20 years, it's hard to imagine what sort of conflict they could come up with for the Norway arc, so it'll probably be something made-up, but Olaf's son Magnus will likely be back. Hopefully, they'll bring in Einar Thambarskelfir, a wealthy landowner in northern Norway, who irl brought Magnus back from Kiev after his father's death. Maybe, he'll make his play for power in Olaf's name!

They probably won't explore anything in Denmark or Sweden (especially since they just did not fill us in on anything that Knut was doing in Denmark this past season), but in England there are plenty of possibilities: they could bring in the earls of Bamburgh (and the real Uhtred the Bold, not the self-insert one from TLK), they could address the struggle to bring Mercia into the fold that they sort of/sort of did not wrap up in season 1, and there is always fucking Scotland!! I would love to see Knut put Malcolm II in his place and host that meeting with Malcolm, Macbeth, and Echmarcach mac Ragnaill that happens around 1030.

Also Knut related: I wonder if he'll be visiting Rome in season 3, because there are several actors credited as cardinals on imdb and Knut did travel to Rome irl also around 1030. If he does go to Rome, I hope we encounter Conrad II because they were like bffs (and lowkey kind of gay).

I have nothing to go off of for Freydis's plot, but over in Constantinople, I wonder if Leif will find maps leading to North America when he reaches Mariam's house. As for Harald, Kaysan, and Batu (the later two I expect will join Harald in the Varangian Guard), hopefully they'll go to Sicily with Maniakes and if we're lucky, we'll encounter William Ironarm or other Norman warlords fucking around in Italy at that time. Either that, or I'd be down for a greater focus on the political drama that is RIFE in Constantinople. I don't have high hopes that John the Orphanotrophos will show up, but if Romanos is supposed to be Romanos Diogenes, we'll have the Doukai opposing him, the fateful Battle of Manzikert, and possibly even the Komnenoi since the writers/producers only seem to care about bringing in the well known families/events rather than trying to bring lesser known but historically relevant figures to the big screen.

Somehow, they're also bringing Eirik the Red into the show, so I wonder if maybe Freydis will be returning home to Greenland, but again, this is where I'm less knowledgable, so no matter what happens I will definitely be surprised. I already know that literally all of my expectations here will be subverted; I don't know how they do it, but they manage it EVERY TIME.

[all-is-fair-in-love-and-war]

Petra Thorimsdottir

Name: Petra Thorimsdottir

Nicknames:

Age: 21

Sexuality: Straight

Appearance/Faceclaim: Poppy Drayton

Personality: Petra is a kind person and sweet, but she is also terribly stubborn, something that often got her in trouble when she was a child. Whenever someone doubts her, or says she cannot do something she must prove them wrong and often doesn’t stop until she does. When she was only nine she broke her arm after her brothers friend said she could not climb a tree in her dress, and beat him in the climbing. Petra happily challenged the boy and climbed the tree far more easily and quickly than him. Although the branch was holding onto broke and she fell, breaking her arm. Like her mother, Petra trained as shield-maiden from a young age and quickly progress in skill, soon earning a small name for herself.

Petra believes in the Norse gods, of her people, as does all her family, although she holds no predjuce against those who have another faith. Although she does take offense when other try to push their own faith on her, or others who do not share the same faith. She is also fiercely protective of those she loves, and would do anything for them. While her brother was raised to rule as Earl, Petra was raised as much the same, to be his general, and to help him succeed, and pick up the torch if needed.

Family:

Father: Thorim the Bloodless (Deceased)

Mother: Ingrid the Bold (Deceased)

Older brother: Thorik the Grey

Younger sister: Alette

History: Petra and her family originally come from Oslo Norway. Her uncle Fernin still resides in Oslo as powerful Earl Petra’s father, Thorim, the second son came to England to make a life there in the Dane law. Thorim quickly became a prominent earl, and earned his title the Bloodless for he was a powerful negotiator, he was a fair man and would always try to finish conflicts with talk and not go to battle. But when battle was the only way he did not shy away and earned reputation as a great warrior when he was quite young. Until he left for England Thorim was his older brothers general. He married the shield-maiden and Earl in her own right Ingrid when he was 19 and was never with another woman. The two came to the England together and set up their Earldom themselves.

The two had three children, Thorik, Petra and Alette. Thorik was much like his father, but had a more daring side, whereas Thorim was always more calculated and calm. Thorik was a rather crazy child and fathered several children on multiple women. Despite his wildness, Thorik always had a sense of duty and wanting to do right by the people of the earldom he would one day inherit. Thorik is skilled with a sword, and a spear, although he battle he often uses a sword, in hand to hand combat he chooses the spear. He is also very protective of his younger sisters.

The three children all had a good childhood, filled with adventure and safety. Thorik was 14 the first time he followed his father in battle and Petra was 15, having been trained by her mother since she was a small child.

Both Thorim the Bloodness, and Ingrid the Bold perished in a battle against Kjartan. Thorim had driven the brothers from his lands but the battle had cost himself and his wife their lives. After that the Earldom passed to Thorik, and he took up a hunt after Kjartan, killing many of his men and driving the brothers from the shores. But he left it at that and returned to build up his lands. The three siblings know that the brothers still live and when they come to England and made trouble they begin to plan. When the brothers kidnap the princess, and takes her to Dunholm to build their army, Petra goes under guise to pledge warriors to the brothers, but in the end helps Uhtred and his warriors to free the princess and take down Kjartan’s forces. After that she decides to stay with Uhtred and his company.

[mirdaniaa]

appetite

"I've found my appetite after all." A continuation of the knife scene in 3x05.

rated m

for @aadmelioraa, who loves knives 🔪💜

read it on ao3 if you wish

As Aethelred turns a corner, he nearly collides headfirst with Steapa. 

“God above, man,” he says irritably, “watch where you’re going!”

“Can’t see through walls, can I?” Steapa asks in amiable, unbothered tones before lumbering away.

Aethelred grits his teeth. There are far, far too many West Saxons underfoot. At least in his rooms he can be sure of some peace and quiet.

But as soon as he opens the door to the private apartments, he sees that an evening devoid of West Saxon company is not to be, for his lady wife is sitting at table, twirling a knife in her hand. 

He stops in his tracks. He had expected Aethelflaed to sup with her insufferable brother and father, not with him.

“It was cold, so I lit a fire,” she says pleasantly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“We have servants to light fires,” he reminds her, barely containing his disgust at this breach in decorum. 

She gives him a small, unfeeling smile, and then points to the seat opposite her with her knife. “Come. Sit.”

Suddenly, he understands. This is not to be a dinner; this is to be an interrogation, one that will not be interrupted by servants tending to the fire or whisking away dishes. 

His wife has been surprising him all over the place. It is almost endearing. 

Almost.

“I do not have an appetite,” he says, refusing to play this game; even so, he cannot simply walk out of this room when he entered with such purpose, so he ambles awkwardly towards the coffer to the side. 

Aethelflaed slams the point of her blade into the table, keeping her eyes trained on him. It unnerves him more than he cares to admit, and despite his better judgment, he turns his back on her when he reaches the coffer, pretending to sift through the rolls of parchment as though looking for something.

“When will you return to Wincelcumb?” he asks in his most conversational tone. 

“Oh, I have no plans to return,” she says sweetly. “I have assigned my guard to Uhtred, and will remain here to go with my husband and the men of Mercia into battle. May I say,” she continues, her voice pitching into that high tone she often takes before she assaults him with accusations, “you did not appear… concerned, nor surprised, lord, at Haesten’s attempt to kill your wife?”

It is only the knowledge that her knife is buried in the table and not gripped in her hand that gives him the boldness to contort his face into an expression of exaggerated terror, gasping like a mummer in a farce, before he drops the act and looks at her with boredom. “Does my reaction now meet with your approval?”

He can clearly see that his reaction does not meet with her approval, and perhaps she is even now thinking of prising her knife out of the table and lodging it firmly in his skull; but, ever the diplomat, his wife forces a smile and says, “It does. Thank you.”

He forces a smile of his own as he comes towards the table, his eyes quickly skimming the place setting opposite Aethelflaed’s. Just as he hoped, there is a spoon on one side of the plate and a knife on the other. “My dear,” he begins, “I assure you that I will not rest until I find the truth of what happened, and those responsible shall pay with their lives.”

Naturally, this is not enough to satisfy his wife. There is little, in his experience, that can. “Haesten, for one, is directly responsible for the attack. Why do you not seek to punish him?”

“Because I’m required here,” he explains as if to a child.

She gives him a cold smile. “My father, too, will seek retribution and justice, I am sure.”

He slides the table knife from its place. “Should he live that long,” he agrees. He gives her a wide smile. “I pray that he does.” He slams his knife into the table beside hers, the dishes clattering as the wood shudders beneath them. Aethelflaed squirms in her seat, her cold disdain slipping away as he leans down to her eye level. “I’ve found my appetite after all,” he says cheerfully.

She regards him from behind a mask made of stone, her eyes giving away nothing as he straightens up; as soon as he makes to turn away, however, he sees a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He reacts instinctively, pulling up his knife from the table at the same instant that she does, holding his knife to her throat just as she holds hers to his. 

They stare at each other for a long moment, and then he grins despite himself. “Trying to kill me, my dear?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” she says icily. “As the thought of killing me has, no doubt, crossed yours.”

“Now, why would I want to kill you?” he asks sweetly.

“Perhaps you have been listening to poor counsel.”

He keeps the grin on his face, but something pricks at his conscience. What does she know? “It would be poor counsel indeed that would urge me to kill my beloved wife,” he says smoothly. “You are very dear to me. You lead my men into battle, you light fires as diligently as any servant, you give me exceedingly fair children–” He hisses as she presses her knife against his neck, so close he can feel the sharpness of the blade.

“Perhaps that is why you want to kill me,” she whispers. “I have–what is it you said? Diminished you?”

Aethelred clenches his jaw. His wife has grown overbold. He reaches up and grabs a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back so that her neck is taut against the sharp edge of his knife. “You little–”

She cuts him off by digging the point of her blade into the hollow where his neck meets his jaw, pressing until he feels a warm trickle down his neck. If he was not afraid of deepening the cut, his mouth would fall open in shock. 

“What was that?” she asks innocently. “I’m a little…what?”

He doesn’t know if it’s the blood running down his neck, or the knife still pressed against his flesh, or the way she’s smirking up at him, or some blend of all three, but he feels a sudden shift as his blood moves south. Aethelflaed feels it, too; he can tell by the way her smirk broadens, her head tilting into his hand, offering more of her pale throat up to his blade. 

His knife is still at her throat when he surges forward to kiss her.

Aethelflaed laughs into his kiss, the point of her knife trailing down his neck and resting just above his chest. She bites down on his lip at the same moment her knife slides down, ripping his tunic and the shirt beneath down to his waist. He hisses, both from the teeth in his lip and his suddenly bared chest, and she laughs again. When he pulls back, there is blood on her lips, and despite the rending of his tunic, his skin feels suddenly too hot, too tight. 

He leans down to lick his blood from her lips, untangling his hand from her hair so he can half-cut, half-tear her clothes down the middle as she did his.

“No,” she growls, pressing the tip of her blade against his breeches as a warning.

It only excites him beyond reason, and he smirks as he parts her torn clothes to grasp one breast. “Yes.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but he brings his knife up to her breast, pressing the cool flat of the blade to her warm skin until it prickles. Her mouth stays open, whatever she was about to say lost for a long moment. He watches as her pupils contract, her eyes darkening with a desire she cannot conceal. 

When the metal warms and she makes a halfhearted effort to speak again, he lifts the flat of the blade, drawing the point in a feather-light motion down to the rosy tip of her breast and circling. 

“Stop that,” she whispers with absolutely no vehemence whatsoever.

“Mm, I don’t think I will,” he says thoughtfully. “Unless…you’re going to make me?”

He hopes she does, and he is not disappointed. The pressure against his cock disappears, and a moment later, he feels a stinging arc over his pectoral. He recoils, hissing in pain, but Aethelflaed follows him, lowering her head to lick up the blood. He grabs her hair again, holding his knife to her throat, and she does the same to him, smirking up at him with bloodstained lips.

He’s stretched so full he aches. He’s never seen this side to his wife before. He doesn’t know what she’s going to do next, and he desperately wants to find out.

He backs her roughly against the table, lowering a hand to sweep aside the dishes. They cut and tear savagely at each other’s breeches, mangling them beyond repair, desperate to be free of the last of their trappings before she clambers onto the table, seizing a handful of his hair to pull him against her. 

He slides into her so easily it dazes him. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers, but when he feels the sharp point of her blade against his neck, his eyes open, meeting her dark-eyed stare.

“Look at me,” she commands, wrapping her legs around his hips and drawing him deeper into her. He wonders if she will really use her blade on him or if this is all a game meant to excite and nothing more. The not knowing arouses him so much that he spills before he means to, his hips grinding with far too little delicacy for a man with a knife at his throat. 

In the moment following, her knife still poised at his throat, his heart pounds in fear.

And then she uses the hand in his hair to push him down to his knees, bringing his face level with her cunt. “You said you had an appetite.”

[alexagirlie]

Vamptober Part 1

AN: Part 1 for the next installment of We Dance With Monsters : Monstreous May Bonus Scene! (Masterlist)

Header by me, divider by @zaldritzosrose

Fandom: The Last Kingdom

Ship: Osferth x Sihtric

Rating: M

TW: Vampires au. Flirting. Public indecency. Biting. Minor bloodplay. M/M Sex. Not beta'd so may still contain mistakes.

Summary: Osferth and Sihtric sneak off during the feast celebrating Uhtred's ascension to High King.

Taglist: @gemini-mama @foxyanon @legitalicat @arcielee @thenameswinter99

Sihtric looked around and marvelled at the opulence and wealth on display at the feast celebrating Uhtred's ascension to High King. His hall had been decorated, large tapestries and bundles of vibrant flowers hung from the stone walls. The large wooden tables were heavy with food and drink and all the guests were happy and drunk.

Sihtric was sitting at the head table alongside his lovers and a few other honoured guests and they had all dressed their best in brand new attire. He felt like a lord, dressed in a new tunic dyed a dark, royal blue and he was wearing more gold then he had ever imagined he would own. 

His lovers were equally as resplendent in their own new clothing, his eyes constantly catching on the flashing of the golden bead Osferth had allowed him to braid into his hair or on the contrast of deep crimson fabric against Skade's beautiful, pale skin. 

He leaned against Osferth's shoulder, lips pressing teasingly against his smooth cheek and he grinned as Osferth sent him an exasperated but fond look.

Osferth was glad he couldn't blush anymore or he would be as red as a tomato as Sihtric spent the evening openly teasing Osferth. He would invade Osferth's space, no sense of appropriateness given the scrutiny they were under while seated at Uhtred's high table. The way the Dane subtly ran his hands over the baby monks' new robes under the table, fingers teasing his inner thigh, brushing over his rapidly hardening cock.

He pressed kisses and light nips of teeth to the column of Osferth's neck as he whispered absolute filth and sin into the crook of his neck. The Dane not caring at all at being observed, in fact Osferth was sure that Sihtric took great pleasure in staking his claim in front of so many guests and as the night devolved into sin and debauchery, he only got more bold. 

By this point of the evening many of the guests had taken to fornicating in dark corners, and as Sihtric pulled Osferth into his lap the young vampire finally had enough teasing and turned to face the other vampire, pressing their foreheads together intimately.

“Let's go to my chambers.”

Sihtric grinned, his fangs glinting in the fire light as he helped Osferth to his feet and pushed his chair back to stand. The two of them tried to escape the hall without comment but Osferth caught Uhtred's knowing smirk and Finan made a comment, asking where they thought they were going on such an important night, but relented when Sihtric glared at him and grabbed Osferth’s sleeve to drag Osferth away from the table. 

Amused laughter followed them out of the hall but they ignored it in their haste to finally get alone. They all but ran back to Osferth's chambers, passing amused guards and members of the household staff in their haste.

As soon as they were behind closed doors Sihtric found himself slammed against the solid wood with a loud thump. His cock throbbed in his trousers as Osferth fumbled the laces of his tunic pushing it up his muscled stomach. He groaned, head thumping back against the wood as cool hands slipped under the loosened fabric and brushed teasingly against his nipples, the sensitive flesh hardening under the pleasant touch.

Sihtric's head swam as the thick fabric was pushed all the way over his head and dropped carelessly on the floor. He moaned, as Osferth's lips wrapped around his pebbled nipple and sucked, hard with a nip of sharp teeth as he pulled away. 

Osferth licked his lips enticingly as he met Sihtric's mismatched eyes before letting out an embarrassing squeak as Sihtric unexpectedly turned them around and pressed Osferth against the door instead. 

Control swapped, the Dane flashed the younger vampire a toothy grin before he dropped to his knees. He nosed along the bulge in Osferth tunic before helping the baby monk push the long fabric up his stomach so Osferth can pull it over his head and Sihtric set to work getting his trousers open and pulled down around his knees.

Sihtric couldn't resist taking Osferth's cock into his mouth, the perfect curve of it sliding across his tongue and down his throat. He moaned around his mouthful as Oaferth's fingers wrapped in the loops of his intricate braids, gripping and pulling them, making Sihtric take his cock deeper and deeper down his throat.

Osferth moaned as the wet and tight clutch of Sihtric's throat brought him speeding towards his end but he didn't want to spend down the Danes throat, he wanted Sihtric's arse first. He pulled Sihtric off his cock, resisting the urge to fuck back in at the enticing sight his lover made. On his knees with just a thin string of saliva still connecting the weeping head of Osferth's cock with Sihtric's bottom lip.

Groaning Osferth pulled Sihtric to his feet and playfully pushed the Dane towards the bed. They finished undressing, getting their trousers and smalls off before he pressed Sihtric down on the rumbled sheets and crawled between his sprawled thighs. He kissed and bit his way across the Dane’s neck and chest, staining them both with the fresh spill of blood.

They didn't draw it out, Osferth opening Sihtric up quickly on his fingers before he gripped his cock at the base and guided it inside Sihtric's waiting body. They both groaned as his hips met the curve of Sihtric's arse and filled him so perfectly.

They fucked for hours, trading desperate kisses and bruise tight touches as Osferth kept Sihtric on the edge of spilling. Bringing him to the brink over and over making the Dane beg and plead as he was denied his pleasure.

Climax was finally granted as Sihtric laid on his back, legs thrown over Osferth’s shoulders as the younger vampire pounded into him. Osferth took Sihtric's rock hard cock in hand, pumping him at the same pace as he fucked his cock into the Dane. 

Sihtric moaned as the tight grip of Osferth's hand and the perfect angle of his cock pushed him over the edge and he spilled across his chest and stomach, moaning loud and unashamed.

The tightening grip of his body around Osferth's cock sending the baby monk over the edge as well, Sihtric groaning weakly as he felt the rush of seed painting his inner walls.

They laid there, sticky and spent as the morning dawns. Osferth rising to join the morning mass, a habit he has never broken, even after joining the vampire ranks.

He pressed a kiss to Sihtric’s bare shoulder as he rolled off the bed to clean himself up and pull on a clean white tunic. “Go wait for Finan and Lord Uhtred. Celebrate with them.”

The Dane smiled up at him before he pulled Osferth down for a proper kiss, licking the lingering taste of blood and sin from his lips.

“Enjoy your prayers.”