#osferth fic

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

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

pairing: osferth x f!reader

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

word count: 2.5k

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

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That we are.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thenameswinterfics]

AGAPE

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Osferth x Reader Settings: Between season 4 and season 5 Summary: Torn between the desire to feel you and the sacredness of his vows, Osferth gives you flowers as a token of his love and devotion, the meaning of his love hidden behind the flower's language. But a scouting expedition beyond Rumcofa's borders forces him to confront the devil who tempts him. Word Count: 2,9 K Warnings: Fluff, mild smut, mention of religious guilt, mention of male mansturbation A/N: Here's my birthday present for my beloved @zaldritzosrose . Happy birthday, sweet love. I apologise for taking so long, I hope you can appreciate this. (And consider also this as a way to thank you for all the graphics you made for me). As always, thank you to @foxyanon and @legitalicat for having an endless patience with me. Also, thanks to @sylasthegrim for the brief beta reading!

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

Header by @legitalicat Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Agape: (n), the highest form of love. Selfless, sacrifical, and unconditional love; persists no matter the circumstances.

When Osferth saw you for the first time, the seed of sin was already creeping into his soul.

Brought up in a monastery, King Alfred's bastard son had been sheltered from the dangers of the outside world, his life rigidly punctuated by the silent rhythm of prayer and the teaching of sacred texts, his vow of chastity protecting him from the lustful pleasures of the flesh, his body preserving the purity so longed for by God. 

But everything changed when he joined Uhtred and his men, leaving behind his former life outside the holy walls of the Church and embracing the way of the warrior. His first days were not easy: he was not used to witnessing death and destruction first hand, and killing was a thought that made his stomach turn and his spine chill. But the years passed quickly, and the shy monk became a warrior and one of Uhtred's most trusted men. 

He had always heard Finan say "ale, women and prayer" whenever they temporarily settled in a village, and watched as he and Sihtric drank endless mugs of ale, joining them for as long as his stomach would allow. And every time the thought of the flesh came back to haunt him, his faith would help him resist the temptation, and Osferth would end up praying for God's forgiveness, soothing his guilt for almost abandoning himself in the sin.

But your arrival shattered all his holy defences. 

He watched with wide eyes as you challenged Uhtred to a fight, your body dancing with every stroke of your sword, admiring your coolness and agility in battle and how easily you disarmed a skilled fighter like the Daneslayer. And those same eyes, intense and fierce in battle, were the ones that met him, in a glance that ignited the spark of attraction, an unfamiliar heat that blossomed in his chest. 

Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts were filled with visions of you - your wild spirit, your stolen glances, the way you cared for your friends and children even when you said otherwise, even the way your lips curled into a gentle smile. In the silence of his room, he struggled with his longing, every breath a battle between desire and duty. Part of him still had to keep his oath to God, the promise to maintain his integrity and serve Him and Him alone for the rest of his life. But another part of him wanted to surrender and embrace the sin that had taken root in his heart, to love you as freely as you did, whose own religion allowed you to worship the gods with physical touches and passionate love. 

Osferth always wanted to confess his love for you, but his shyness and his religious morality never allowed him to openly express his true feelings.

So he used the language of flowers to convey his unspoken feelings for you.

Osferth had always been an enduring mystery. You sensed it from the moment you met him, his blue eyes hiding a longing that you misinterpreted at first, thinking he was simply worried about his lord's fate since he was defeated in front of the bewildered gazes of his warriors. 

But it was not until Uhtred welcomed you into his group with open arms that you truly began to understand him. As you shared stories of your adventures around the fire, surrounded by the green of the boundless Mercian borders, you glimpsed a layer of his character that was hidden beneath his demeanour: he was a gentle soul, both in his words and his actions, and spoke with an intensity in his words that you hadn't found in any men you'd met in your life.

Your silent glances turned into lingering moments, and you both felt a connection to each other that you had never felt before. You brushed your fingers against each other as you reached for the same piece of food, or as you passed weapons to each other as you prepared for battle, and each time you saw the monk's smile as a silent response, his face flushed to the tips of his ears, a vision that made your heart pound in your chest.

In time, the accidental caresses became bold, and you both began to rest your hands on each other's cheeks, feeling the softness of each other's skin as the tips of your noses touched. But every time you thought you could go further, a wall of responsibility would fall over Osferth and the monk would leave your embrace. You interpreted his sudden hesitation as mere disinterest in you, but you didn't know that inside him there was a war between integrity and impulsiveness, for you were the devil who broke the chains of God's influence. 

You had known Osferth for long enough that you thought you knew everything about him. Yet, somehow, the once almost monk still managed to surprise you. One evening, while you guarded the children as you were granted accommodations by Lady Aethelflaed estate in Saltwic, he began exhibiting a predisposition towards plants and flowers. You watched as he bent over, his slender fingers gently caressing the petals of a flower before plucking it from the bush and turning to gift it to you, which you accepted happily.

Each flower was different, both in shape and colour: small and with few petals, roses of the brightest red, small wild flowers that he sometimes tucked behind your ear, large and fragrant tulips: they were carefully chosen each time you crossed Mercia, and your intimate ritual continued when you reached Rumcofa, the place you would soon call home. 

You leaned into his spontaneous gestures, consoling yourself a little, seeing them as the closest you could get to a gesture of love. But you would soon find out the hidden secrets that these flowers hide between their beautiful petals.

Spring arrived unusually early in Rumcofa, and while nature was already in full bloom - from the brightest greens of the grass to the most vibrant hues of the flowers - there was still a slight chill in the air, a silent reminder that winter had not yet loosened its grip on the earth. 

The sun was bright in the sky, and Uhtred and the boys patrolled the area, making sure there were no dangers or possible incursions. It was a sudden change of life for everyone, as you had lived in Coccham for many years, but this did not stop Uhtred from making his new piece of land powerful and safe for his warriors’ families.

Fortunately, the scouting had been without any particular difficulty, and after hours of riding, Uhtred decided it would be wise to let his men rest and feed the horses before resuming their activities. So they decided to head for the forest, which was somewhat drier than the dense vegetation that surrounded Coccham, but no less intriguing: the trees were tall and stringy, and the early scent of pine and damp earth filled the air. Birds were calling in the distance, their songs echoing through the treetops, casting small patterns of light on the ground.

Dismounting from your horse, you took your shield and sword from the saddle, carrying them with you in case you needed to defend yourself from an ambush. Deep in the forest, you and Osferth gathered as many twigs as you could find to light a small fire and prepare some food for your stomachs: the scouting had been long and hard, and hunger mixed with fatigue always fooled even the most skilled of warriors.

Having gathered all the twigs you needed, you decided it was time to take a little break. The two of you walked in silence, close to each other, shame and unspoken feelings filling a forest already blooming for the spring season, until you both reached a small stream where you could sit and relax, smelling the scent of wet grass and water plants, along with the chirping of cicadas and the singing of birds. 

You cautiously approached the water, dipped a hand in and lightly wetted your face, enjoying the coolness of the cold hair against your wet skin. Then you sat down, pressing your back against the grass and closing your eyes, surrendering to the peaceful sounds of nature, until a sudden rustling of leaves made you open your eyes. You lifted your head to see Osferth awkwardly gathering some flowers tangled in a bush, the sight so sweet it made you smile slightly.

"It seems you like picking flowers lately," you said with a slight chuckle, watching as the monk froze, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. You could feel one of his hands lightly picking up a small flower, the flicker transferred to its petals. 

“It is an activity I enjoy, my lady, before we come back scouting,” Osferth replied politely to you, and you could hear a flicker of nervousness in his voice. 

You rolled to the other side, your arm supporting your head as you watched Osferth pluck flowers from the ground and gently gather them into a small bouquet. With no small hesitation, he approached you, sat down on the ground and silently leaned the bouquet towards you, his blue eyes looking at you with their usual intensity and longing, betraying the decorum of his religious beliefs. 

You found yourself admiring the improvised floral composition, lost in its beauty: the flowers were large, probably larger than those he had given you in the past, the petals soft as silk to the touch, painted a vibrant pink with muted shades of pale pink. You had never seen such a beautiful flower in your life. 

“Osferth,” you breathlessly broke the silence, your eyes shining with contentment: you were a warrior woman, but even you had a soft side, “I do not know what to say. They are-”

“Peonies,” the monk interrupted you, his cheeks turning red while watching your bewilderment over his gift, “They are peonies. Very beautiful flowers, if I dare to say,”. 

Osferth paused for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued, "From the writings of the monastery, I have learned that peonies are rich in symbolism and have many meanings. One of his fingers pointed to the flowers in your hands, his thumbs gently stroking the petals, "Some believe it has healing properties and symbolises protection, others believe it is the symbol of honour and nobility,” 

Suddenly, he took one of your hands, and with incredible kindness he placed it on his chest, and you felt his heart beating wildly inside his chest, “And they are often given when you want to tell someone you love them,” 

Silence fell over you as you took your time to absorb Osferth's words, his words hitting you like an arrow shot to the chest: you were used to Osferth's elusiveness on these subjects, as you had caught him praying in solitude, asking forgiveness for sins he had not committed. But his gentle touches, his unspoken tender gestures and the flowers he gave you: he told you he loved you without thinking to touch you, so that his soul could live in peace. 

Your lips curled into a small smile as you brushed Osferth’s chest with your fingers, “Is this why you always give me flowers, when we get the chance?”, you asked softly, your own cheeks turning red as Osferth nodded shyly.

“I do,” the monk replied, his hand squeezing yours, “But I know this is wrong,” 

With a quick but delicate gesture, Osferth lowered your hand and stood up, pacing nervously and mentally reciting prayers of forgiveness. His behaviour left you both confused and broken, and after gently placing the flowers on the grass, you stood up and approached him, holding his hands in a way to calm himself down.

"It's wrong, what?" you asked calmly, hoping that your voice would bring him back to reality. But you knew from his gaze that he was somewhere else than with you, "Please, Osferth. Talk to me. Is it because I am a Dane?"

“It is because I desire you,” Osferth snapped, more in panic than anger, and the grip on your hands tightened, “It torments me to see you every day and wonder what it would be like to touch you and love you without feeling the burden of my faith,”

He then leaned one of his trembling hands, resting it on your cheek and brushing it gently, “All the flowers I gave to you, they were the sign of my love and commitment towards you without feeling God’s voice telling me it was wrong,” Osferth confessed with a soft sigh, closing his eyes as a way to hide his shame, “But now that I exposed my secret I do not know if he will grant me-”

“Is God watching us?” You asked out of the blue, interrupting his nervous stream of consciousness while your own hand rested on his cheek as well. Your question left Osferth surprised for a second, but a little chuckle escaped from his lips, amused by your apparent innocent question.

“My sweet lady, both your Gods and my God are watching us right now,” he replied sheepishly, and his answer satisfied you: it was what you wanted to hear.

“Then let them watch us,” you whispered with husky voice, your finger tracing the contour of his face, your touch sending him shivers down your spine, “Let them watch us consuming our love, only them as witnesses,” 

His breath caught as your soft touch lingered on his skin and the air suddenly became thick with tension. It was as if the war between righteousness and temptation was intensifying within him, the seed of sin blossoming into a small sprout destined to grow, fuelled by your carnal passion. 

And for the very first time, the devil won. 

His lips crashed against yours in a hungry kiss, releasing all the dormant passion he used to vent in the solitude of his room, reaching his climax when he cried out your name in his moments of lack of lucidity. Unable to restrain his hands, he gripped your waist in a surprisingly tight vice and moved you until your back was pressed against the trunk. He broke the kiss abruptly as guilt rose again in his chest, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“You need to stop me, please,” Osferth breathed against your lips, but you silenced him by teasing his upper lip with your tongue. 

“I won’t,”, you replied in a hoarse voice and put your hand behind his neck, “I have waited for so long, Osferth. I need to feel you,” 

With your last words, everything rational in Osferth's mind disappeared and your lips were locked in a heated kiss. A little hesitant at first, he grew bolder as the tip of his tongue tentatively demanded entry, which you gladly accepted. A wild and sensual dance exploded in your mouths as his hands slid all over your body, squeezing your soft breasts and forcing you to moan against his lips. With a confident movement, he undid the laces of your skirt, exposing you to the cold air of early spring. Your mind became dizzy as you felt Osferth's mouth run over your skin, tormenting first your neck, then your collarbone, until he indulged on your breast: with the tip of his tongue he teased your nipple, hardened by the cold and the rise of your arousal, while his hand teased the other with a pleasurable pinch. 

"You are tempting me, Lady," his shy and trembling voice contrasted with the bold movements of his hands, and you could only respond with whimpering and rambling words, your eyes closed as you rested your head on the trunk of the tree, drunk with the pleasure the innocent monk was giving you.

Leaving your chest, his hands slipped into your breeches, his fingers trembling and clumsy as he tried to find your pulsing core, wet with anticipation of what was to come. But as you felt the tip of his thumb caress you in a circular motion, two male voices called out to you in the distance, forcing you both to abruptly pull away from each other, hiding all evidence of your relationship. 

But all your attempts were in vain, as you realised with horror that Finan and Sihtric saw almost everything. 

"Looks like our baby monk is no longer a baby," Finan's teasing voice broke the awkward silence, supported by Sihtric's sly grin. Osferth's face turned bright red as he tried to cover you and save you from further humiliation. But he knew it was too late. 

“I-I swear I can explain,” the monk spoke with a quivering voice, but Sihtric was quick to interrupt him.

“Lord Uhtred gave the order to resume the scouting. Collect your things, both of you,” the Dane tried to stay as neutral as possible, his smirk betraying the seriousness of his words. 

“You will hump your lady later as a reward,” the Irishman added, and with a loud slap on the youngest's back, he and Sihtric turned and walked away from you. 

With a hint of embarrassment in the air, you tried to compose yourself by arranging your clothes and combing your hair into more tidy braids, and with a soft brush you told Osferth that everything was fine and that you were enjoying these little moments together. 

Gathering your things, you quickly rejoined your group and resumed your exploration of Rumcofa's surroundings, riding tirelessly until the orange sun disappeared behind the mountains. And as Finan said, your love and affection was the reward Osferth received after a long day, ignoring the guilt of his faith that whispered in his head as your naked bodies joined as one. 

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Osferth Taglist: @zaldritzosrose @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Osferth and Brynja from As It Was by @moris-auri - for Miranda, whose stories deserve to be told.

[fan-goddess]

For your k!nktober fest, could we please get Osferth x mutual masturbation? Maybe mutual pining for one another but they both are painstakingly pious and it eventually just...spills over?

Authors Note: I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THESE LAST REQUESTS HAVE TAKEN I GENUINELY AM SO SORRY ABOUT IT! Here it is now I hope you can enjoy it!

Warnings: masturbating from both people, sort of perving on osferths part, simp osferth, short praising, kissing, marriage talk, they moving fast (if I miss any let me know so I can add them!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

As a child, ever since you had been brought to the nunnery, the church had been all you’d ever really known.

You were taught the life of Christ and the life of the church, and that it would be the only life you would ever truly know.

The worst part about it all, was that you truly believed it to be true. That is however, until you met Uhtred and his men one afternoon.

You had never thought of them as savages, rather just men simply protecting their country, regardless of the individual faiths they each followed.

Which, was probably why you found yourself so fascinated and intrigued by the warrior monk called Osferth, who almost every night joined you and a few others women in the monastery to pray.

You’ve conversed with him very little times outside of the monastery. Only speaking to him on small meaningless topics, such as the words of Christ or other things similar.

And yet a part of you burns for more than that.

You know the monk is not as pious as the others are. The whispers of his visits to the brothels leave your ears burning in a mixture of embarrassment and longing every time you hear them uttered by the other women.

You’ve watched him from afar for so long, and yet you know it would never feel the same as if you were with him. His touch, whenever you managed to feel the roughness of his skin on yours as he passed you sometimes, somehow made you weak in the knees without him even trying.

You cannot deny either that the weakness prayed upon you whilst you laid in bed at night. Your hands trailing down to your core that leaked with evident arousal for him.

It was so sinful, and yet it was way too enjoyable to stop yourself from doing it.

The images of Osferth coming to you in the dead of night, treating your body so carefully yet so sinfully. It leaves small gasps panting from your sore lips where you had been biting to try and keep the noise down.

It was embarrassing to realise, that the sound of your fingers pleasuring yourself can be heard by you with how wet you are. But no one was around to hear them, right?

Osferth has never truly felt like he belonged anywhere, apart from with Uhtred and the others. They were his new found family. His brothers. He never felt like he could truly connect so easily with another person. That is what he thought for a years. Until however, he met you.

You were kind. So kind to him and the others when you met him at the gates. You offered a smile so bright he could believe the heavens had been brought to earth, and offered food and water to him and the others for their travels, even though your fellow sisters looked at you bewildered, surprised you were so kind to the savages he and the others were so used to being called.

And yet you didn’t call them that. You’d asked for his name, and have kept calling him that the entire time you’ve conversed with him. It was almost strange, that for the first time in a long while he was called his name. Yet Osferth did not deny how nice it sounded coming from your lips. How angelic is seemed to be.

Which is why late at night when his sins consumed him, it made him so angry with himself when it was your angelic smile he saw before him, imaging your lips as you smiled and allowed him to take you as a husband takes a wife.

He prayed for forgiveness whenever he could, and yet that didn’t seem to be enough to keep himself restrained. If anything his longing for you was increased more than ever.

He’d feel your soft hands brushing his own as he passed you something, whether that be a basket of bread, or even simply passing you your bible that you’d left in the pew, and find himself hard and throbbing in his trousers, begging for the feel of your wet walls around him.

The whores, were no help in quenching his desire. No matter how much he indulged himself in the warmth of their flesh. His body only craved yours.

Which is why Osferth feels such hate and resentment for his actions when he arrives at your door, hand raised ready to knock and alert you if his presence.

Yet as his fist is about to make contact with the dark wood, certain noises force his body to stop. Certain, familiar noises he remembers hearing only from the pleasure from the pleasure house.

They were moans. Osferth is in shock with his mouth hung wide, as he swears he’s hearing feminine moans coming from your chambers.

He feels like a pervert standing there, just listening to you as you seemingly pleasure yourself. Only what he begins to wonder, is if there’s someone in there with you, making you feel that way. So he moves, and knocks at the door, regretting everything he’s ever done to lead to this moment when he hears hurried movement from inside the room, before the door opens and you greet him with bight red cheeks, no doubt your previous activities.

“Osferth? What are you doing here at this time?” You ask, voice breathless as you try to take deep breaths without seeming obvious.

His hands clench themselves into fists by his side, as it takes everything within him not to lunge at you and kiss you right there and then. To give you another reason to have bright red cheeks. “I-I came to see you.”

Oh fuck him. Your checks seem to have gotten darker from blush and your eyes trail to the floor quickly. Osferth never thought the meek look would affect him this much, and yet here he is, affected so easily like a virgin all over again.

“To see me? Why would you wish to see me at this time of night?”

“I heard you!” He blurts, his restraint slowly coming undone before his very eyes. Your own eyes though, look up and quickly widening before looking straight back down to the floor. Your whole form practically closing in on itself in embarrassment. A strange silence taking over the corridor as the only noise he can currently hear is the rapid beat of his heart in his ears.

“I’m sorry…” He can hear you murmur. A strange sight really, seeing you meek and so out of character for the first time he’s met you.

“You, you do not have to be-“ He coughs, his own deep blush taking over his face and neck no doubt as he realises the predicament hes found himself in, and how much he strangely likes it. “It is a normal thing! To, to self pleasure.”

It’s an awkward moment, but Osferth swears he can feel something brewing between the two of you. Something bubbling over that waits to be spilled.

It’s no surprise to him though that he’s the one whose feelings cannot be contained, and his lips find themselves on yours, claiming them passionately and possessively, his hands never being able to find purchase as they roam your whole body to map out everything.

The sound of a clicking door goes unnoticed as the two of you can only feel each other in that moment. Oblivious to the fact you were both a man and a woman passionately embracing each other in a closed room, away from those who could hear you.

“I find myself caring about you,” The words spill before he can stop them. Like the feeling of your lips on his own have cast a spell on him. “And thinking of you in ways a husband should only think of a wife. But my restraint is strong, as I do not wish to tarnish you before our wedding night, if we are lucky enough to have one. I do not wish to betray who has brought us together. Is that okay with you?”

“Osferth….” You place a hand on his cheek, and he can’t help himself from leaving into the feeling of your warmth. His need for your body showing itself clearly to you. “Its okay understand. Our faith, has its boundaries and restrictions. But…”

You step closer, and his breathing becomes ragged as your face comes closer to his than he’d ever think it would be. His head screaming at him to kiss you again when he feels your breath teasing his lips.

“But we can do other things…” That is all Osferth needs to hear, as he lunges forward to cup your head in his hands, and connect his lips to yours once more. A fire burning within him that burns only for you.

“So beautiful…” He murmurs, unable to keep himself away from your hold. Adoring the way you preen at his words and move against him. He knows you can feel his cock aching in his trousers, and as much as he wants to claim you, he knows he cannot.

So Osferth has another idea in mind, that’ll no doubt bring the both of you some satisfaction.

“Get on the bed my lady…” He mumbles, watching your body carefully as you do as he says. Standing there whilst you lay on your back, looking at him with anxious eyes, your lips stuck between your teeth.

“You look beautiful…” He murmurs, allowing himself to stand at the edge of the bed and admire you while you lay there. “I cannot allow myself to besmirch your body in sin. But as you said…” His hands move to undo his robes, revealing himself to you and blushing slightly as he sees you staring at him, seemingly unable to look away. “There are others things we can do…”

His hands shake as he clasps one around his cock, groaning slightly as he begins to work it with his rough hand. Arousal practically dripping from his tip as he sees your own hands travel beneath your night clothes to your cunt, where you unknowingly tease him from the slight. He is unable to see what it is you are doing, and even still, pure groans of pleasure stumble from his lips as he pleasures himself. His eyes are unable to look away from your whole body, wishing he could imprint the noises and the sight of you in front of him in his head to forever remember.

If it wasn’t blasphemous to say, he’d say this was the most heavenly thing on earth.

“Such a good girl…” Osferth groans, a slight barely audible whimper escaping his lips, your own sounds only tightening the coil of his orgasm in his stomach.

“I-I’m so close!” You whine, and it’s all over for him, as his seed spills into his hand and onto the bed. Your own peak crashing down on you not long after, and a strange yet comforting silence overcomes the two of you as Osferth moves to lay beside you, your body already moving to hold his own.

His hands clasp around your waist and pulls your close, leaving a small affectionate kiss on the crown of your head. “I wish to do this properly. I want to court you, in the traditional was. If- if that is what you want of course!”

Your lips move into a kind smile as you make a small giggle, and Osferth can’t help but find himself adoring the sound already.

“Of course I would wish to court you Osferth! I would want nothing more!”

“Good.” He smiles, moving so he can slowly push his lips on yours and savour the warm feeling he knows is love that is brewing his chest. “I refuse to allow my lady to go unsatisfied for long.”

[the-common-cowgirl]

The Lost Children

Chapter 6

Summary: Edward’s men watch your relationship closely as they are still skeptical. Osferth begins training you with a sword again (and finally with his sword.) How will this impact your relationship henceforth?

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: *Deep Breath* Angst in the beginning, Heavy Petting, Smut (p in v, fingering), Loss of Virginity, experienced male teaching inexperienced female, premature ejaculation, creampie, hint at marriage, fluff at the end.

Rating: Explicit, +18, MDNI

Series Masterlist

The floorboards croaked, disturbing your slumber. You groaned groggily and when you tried to roll to your side, your muscles and bones ached deeply, fully waking you. Slowly you sat up from the floor you were sleeping on, rubbing your shoulders and neck forcefully with a wince on your face.

“Paying your penance for not taking the bed?” Osferth asked, looking as if he also had not slept well.

You scrunched your nose, making a face, refusing to answer him. Turning your head aside and looking up to the window. Dawn was cracking through the wooden shutters. A cool misty air had settled in the room from the poorly sealed window. You realized that you felt damp.

“It’ll be a chilly ride this morning, hope your new mare isn’t too fresh.” Osferth spoke with a certain poison on his tongue that made you tilt your head briskly in questioning as he fastened his boots.

You stared at him for a few moments before he realized your angry eyes were on him.

Your eye narrowed when he looked at you. “Do you have a qualm against my new horse?”

Osferth frowned mockingly and shook his head, looking away, “No, not at all. She’s a fine mount.”

“Why are you being so fresh this morning then?” Deciding to throw his own derogatory verbiage back at him seemed to have been a fine idea because you realized you received a reaction from him.

He stiffened, bent over the chair, fixing his boots and trousers. His brows furrowed deeply and his nose scrunched. “I just think someone else is more deserving of a horse like that.”

At that, your eyebrows nearly reached your hairline, “Someone like you?”

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up straight. “Someone who has been loyal to Lord Uhtred longer than you have.”

You scoffed, “He’s my father.” Osferth scoffed in return. You felt the need to defend Uhtred’s decision in gifting you a fine horse. Finer than his own. “He gifted her to me out of guilt,” you blurted, not entirely certain you were correct.

His head cocked and jaw ticked before Osferth rolled his eyes and turned around, done with the conversation and you. He walked toward the door and just as his hand was about to turn the knob he paused, looking over to you, still seated on the floor. “Remember, we are together.” Then, he swung the door open and stepped out before you could say another word.

It took you a few moments, in your early morning fog, to remember what he meant. As it came back to you, you groaned and put your heavy head into your own hands that rested on your bent knees.

Edward. Edward’s men. Osferth’s woman. A lie.

“Damn him,” you swore, not entirely sure if you were swearing Osferth, Uhtred, or Edward. You were tired and frankly, mad at everyone.

After you dressed and went down to the first floor of the Inn where everyone was seated at a table, you sat next to Finan, flopping into the seat with little energy.

“Long night?” Finan joked with a suggestive hint and wiggled his eyebrows toward Osferth.

Osferth blushed, playing along with the act.

You on the other hand, had not realized both of Edward’s men were sitting on the other end of the table, watching the play in front of them closely.

“If you mean long night-“ you started. Osferth sensed you hadn’t noticed the men on the end of the table who were paying close attention to you. He moved across the table swiftly and out a hand over your mouth, stopping the words that were forming in your mouth and beginning to spill the truth in front of men who were waiting for it.

His hand engulfed the lower half of your face and while you fought against him, Osferth merely chuckled and pulled you in closer to him, twisting your head inconspicuously to see the other men at the table. “Haha,” he faked, “darling, we need not tell them of our bedroom antics.”

Before you could bite Osferth’s hand, the men around you started rising, noticing the tension and stated that we needed to be on the move if we wanted to make it to the next village by nightfall. Osferth rose and offered you his hand. Since you felt watched, needed to put on a good show for your own benefit, you took it, squeezing harshly when Edward’s men had turned around and asked Uhtred a question.

Once outside, you let go of Osferth’s hand and began your work saddling your mare. Once you were nearly finished, Osferth came over to you in a hushed tone, “Lord Uhtred has informed me that Edward’s men are going to ride with us until we reach our destination.”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to Osferth, “Which is where might I ask? No one is telling me anything-“

“What is not concern is where we are going to but whom we are traveling with.” He corrected your behavior. “If Edward’s men find out you are Uhtred’s daughter and not my woman- well- we will all face repercussions for lying to the King.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, act friendly toward you. I understand.” You turned to finish tightening your saddle and Osferth moved close to your back, pinning you softly between your mare and himself.

He leaned in to your ear, “I believe we both need to act friendly toward each other.” He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered against it, “I’m sorry for how I behaved myself last night.”

You elbowed him slightly but harshly so he’d moved away and when he did, you turned and narrowed your eyes at him, noticing Edward’s men were walking by with their own mounts, watching you two.

You leaned in close to him and whispered, “Good act but they’re not looking now…so go.”

Osferth looked over to the men who had now mounted and walked over to Uhtred on the road.

“I hadn’t noticed they were even looking,” he admitted before giving your a brief smile and rubbing where you had elbowed him before moving toward his own steed.

The journey was peaceful for most of the day. Due to Edwards’s men riding with the group, you had to ride next to Osferth for most of the day. Near midday, you finally got bored enough to ask him when he was going to begin training you with a sword again. He simply smiled and said “Whenever you would like m’Lady.”

Just before dusk, the group had reached the next town, but the inn unfortunately was full, so you rode North, just a few miles outside of the village and made camp.

At that time, there was still enough daylight left, so directly after you ate your supper, you asked Osferth if he could train you. He smiled and nodded, excusing the two of you from the group settled around the vampire, then the both of you took off into the woods, across a small creek and down a hill so your lack of sword skills would not embarrass you in front of Edward’s men.

“Your stance is not ready, if you were to have to dodge a strike, you would fall,” Osferth came up behind you and kicked your feet apart. You felt that familiar heat begin to grow in your lower abdomen as he stood behind you.

“There, now you stand like that, wide, light in your feet.”

It was stronger this time, something about your body, here and now, it yearned for a man you vowed to deny until he could apologize; and he hadn’t.

He reached around you, grabbing the hilt of your sword and encompassed his hands around your own.

“Hold it like this.” He instructed gently, too close. You felt wet. Perspiration? No, something different.

“And when you strike,” his voice was soft but commanding, “you want to mean it. If you back out halfway through, you will get hurt. Aim true. Don’t hesitate; if you do, your opponent will win.”

You nodded. Croaking out a, “got it,” before trying to move away from his proximity…but Osferth’s arm snaked around your waist, keeping you to him.

Hot. You felt hot. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not when you felt like you didn’t have control.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” his soft voice was so close to your ear…it made you want to lean into him.

“I’ve not been a good friend or a good lover to you, and for that, I apologize.” His nose nuzzled through the hair guarding your neck from him. Finally, he found your skin and kissed you gently and held his lips to your quickening pulse.

You felt like you could faint.

“You’re not-“ you choked out, “You’re not my lover.”

“In pretend only for now, yes.” He kissed you again, “But I’d like to be in practice… if you’ll have me.” His other hand reached up and you dropped your sword as he caressed your stomach through your dress, then your ribcage, then your breast. A small moan escaped both of your lips as Osferth began to grope your breasts tenderly and you pushed back against him in reply, feeling his hardness through his fabrics.

“I- I- want this,” you breathed out, “But I’m worried.” Your brain was fuzzy as Osferth touched you and kissed your neck but in the back of your mind, you were still worried that after Osferth fucks you, he’ll turn hateful again just like before.

“I’ll be gentle with you, you know I’ll be gentle.” He misunderstood you but the words made you turn around and grab his face, kissing him on his lips harshly and pulling him into you.

The action made you lose your balance, falling backward pulling him atop you. Giggling and moving your head so he could kiss the front of your neck as his hands traveled underneath your clothes and pulled them over your head, leaving you in your riding trousers and undershirts. He moved down your body and hastily yanked your boots off while you began pushing your trousers down and once he could get ahold of them, he grabbed them too and ripped them off of you.

Now you’re lower half bare, you didn’t feel embarrassed as Osferth moved up your body to kiss you harshly, greedily, as his hand traveled down to your core and began playing with your pearl. A moan escaped your mouth, into his own and you felt him smile against your lips in pride as he moved against you. Pulling away to watch his work on your clit, you closed your eyes in ecstasy, a pure feeling you’d never felt before as Osferth moved against you, building a knot in your lower stomach.

“Oh God, what are you doing?” You moaned, feeling silly for not knowing your body could feel this way.

“Not God, just me,” he chuckled, removing his fingers from you and opening you wider gently with his hands pushing your knees apart as he kneeled between them. Then, he brought his hand to the apex of your thighs again and started circling a different part of your core, finally, pushing a single finger in.

You whimpered in pleasure as some needy tension was relieved when he inserted himself inside you but your sound made Osferth stop.

“Was that painful?” You looking up to him and saw concern on his face.

“No, no!” You whined, “Keep going. More please. More.”

Osferth nodded and your head fell back against the soil as he began moving again. The knot in your lower half continued to tighten as his ministrations were precisely where you needed them and then…more pressure down there, this time, slightly painful.

You raised your head and looked up to Osferth as he explained, “I’ve got to work you open if you’re going to take me-“

“Work me open?” You questioned but head felt back again as Osferth hit a within you that took the pain away and pleasure began to bloom faster.

He chuckled at your reaction, “I don’t want it to be painful for you.”

“Why-“ you could barely think, “why would it hurt?”

Osferth nearly chuckled darkly at your ignorance but decided to take pity on you, “Do you think my cock is the same size as my fingers?”

His words made the knot tighten and you grew excited at his insinuation. “I’d, I’d like to know-“

“Patience, my sweet lady, patience.”

He brought his thumb up to work your bud gently as his two fingers worked against your quaking walls and the knot tightened. It tightened so much that you were overcame with a blinding, searing sensation of euphoria throughout your whole body. You felt tight, hot, strange. When the fuzz in your brain slowly dissipated, you felt Osferth pumping his fingers against your core and you shuddered, wanting to pull away from him due to the hyper sensitivity you felt but he only stopped and moved over you, kissing you gently.

“What-“

“You peaked,” he explained gently. Your brows began to furrow in embarrassment for your ignorance but he smoothed you and kissed again, “It’s confusing for most women, their first time, it’s okay.” He held you head gently and looked into your eyes deeply. “We can stop here-“

You shook you head, “No, no I’d like to continue- I’d like you to-“ you gulped your pride down, “teach me.” You looked up at him and his face was solemn, impossible to read. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped it, “please.”

You plea brought Osferth from his trance and he nodded, “Of course.” He stood and removed his robes and shirt, to expose his toned chest and arms.

You suddenly felt that if he were to be fully nude, you should as well, to make him feel more comfortable, so you started to pull your shirt over your head but he stopped you, “You don’t have to do that.” Looking up to him with big eyes, he offered further, “This is about you, not me. Only do what you’re comfortable with. Do it if you’re comfortable.” He began taking off his trousers and you kept your shirt on, not comfortable fully exposing yourself.

When his trousers were undone, he pulled them down, exposing his cock.

You had, unfortunately, seen a man’s penis before, never in a way that made you list filled, more so, repulsed. However, staring at his pretty cock, thick and long, leaking at the tip with a reddened head, you were filled with a newfound lust, if not, a bit scared. Osferth moved to kneel between your legs but as he moved to kiss you, you stopped him with your hand on his chest. His expression of confusion was not missed on you.

“I’d like to be on top, if that’s alright.”

Osferth’s eye twitched in further confusion, “that’s not typically the way of-“

“You said,” cutting him off, “this is about me. What I’m comfortable with. Guide me but let me take you at my own pace.”

He seemed for contemplate your words for only a split second before grabbing your hips and flipping the two of your around, his large hand traveling through your hair to the back of your head and pushing you onto him for a punishing kiss. You giggled as you pulled away and sat atop him. “Thank you,” whispering.

“Lean up, just a bit, I’ll guide you on.” You did as he said and he grasped the base of his cock and ran it through your folds before catching on your entrance from below. “Okay, you go at your pace,” he kissed your hand, “just know, this is killing me.” He smiled and you giggled again, giddy with something between lust and love, however, you’d never admit the latter.

You sat up and his grip on his harden cock followed, putting a hand on his solid abdomen to support yourself, you began lowering yourself down slowly.

His head breached you slightly then met resistance.

“Relax,” he cooed and you tried to obey.

Lowering yourself more, little pain began to shoot through you as you felt his appendage conquered even more of your maiden core. You were thankful he had, in fact, prepared you then as you felt this could have been more painful.

Osferth’s head rolled back slightly and you saw him biting his lip as he tried to restrain himself. You wondered briefly how he was like when given free will of his lovers body without restraint of “being gentle.” The thought excited you and you abruptly lowered the remainder of yourself down, onto his cock, your pelvis flush with his. Pride bloomed in your heart as you had realized you had just taken a man successfully with little pain.

This would come naturally to you, you thought, and it excited you.

“My God, who art in Heaven,” Osferth nearly moaned, “forgive me, for I have sinned and oh God,” you experimentally moved against him, making him twitch inside you, “I am bound to keep sinning with this demon in my presence.”

“Demon?” You laughed and rolled your hips against him again, making him nearly choke out a moan.

“Oh lady, don’t do that,” he begged.

You laughed and rolled your hips again, “I thought you were supposed to be teaching me?”

Osferth wiped his hand across his face on anguish, “I feel as if I will fail you.” He grasped your hips harshly and started moving you against him in the way you rolled your hips previously, you felt so incredibly full and he moved against every inch of you beautifully. The familiar knot, the peak, had begun to appear again. “Yes, just like that sweet one.”

The name made you blush, Osferth was so lost on his own ecstasy to realize it.

He choked out a moan and you felt his body tighten against you, then, warmth flood your core. You kept riding him, unaware he had peaked until he grasped your hips harshly and stilled you on him.

Breath ragged, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he rambled.

“What?” Growing anxious something was wrong.

“I uh- I spilled myself already, inside you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, angrily at himself.

You leaned down and kissed him, feeling the warmth you now know was his seed spilling from your core and his softening sock pulling from you. “Can you not go again? I want to peak on you.” You moved down, kissing his chest.

You felt him nod, “Again, for you, of course. Just-“ he moved both of you again so that he laid on top of you, “just give me a moment.”

That “moment,” consisted of him kissing and suckling at your breasts over your shirt before you finally felt resolve and pulled the shirt over your head to grant Osferth full access to your body. You felt hims harden inside you once again and as he attacked your breasts with kisses, licks and sucks, he began canting his hips into you. Gently at first, then picking up speed. The knot started building within you and Osferth felt it, fully recovered and raised from your body to look down at your bare form as he began pumping into your harshly with his cock.

His rutting was rough, as if he had something to prove to you but you loved it. Chasing that peak feeling, you were nearly there as he toed the line with you. And then, his dexterous fingers found your pearl and you toppled over the peak.

Blinding euphoria rocked through your body as your clenched yourself around his cock, milking him. Unfortunately, he pulled himself from your core in the middle of your peak, cutting it short as your fuzzy eyes looked up at him, grasping your bent knee in one hand and with the other, pumping his cock in his hand, once, twice, before spilling white-hot seed on your stomach.

He collapsed next to you on the forest floor, catching his breath. You looked over to him, smiling and he smiled back at you.

“First-“ still breathless, “we must repent.”

You laughed.

He smiled, “Second, we find a church.”

Your brow quirked, “why?”

“I don’t want to repent every time after I have you.” He leaned over and kissed you passionately.

Maybe the word “love,” could have been used about this interaction, however, you’d just blame it on the ethereal haze.

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

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

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Y'all'll get this summary once Studious VI is out... 👀

12/22: Hold Your Breath Swimming & Face Fucking with Tom Bennett x Reader

When Tom takes you to the beach for your first holiday since the war, you quickly begin to suspect he has an ulterior motive. But as long as you can watch his muscle moves as he swims, you can be okay with that.

12/23: The Princess at the Inn Bed Sharing & Accidental Stimulation with Ser Criston Cole x Aegon's Twin!Reader Yes I'm a simp for Cole, fucking sue me

For the first time in years, Ser Criston Cole is not guarding his Queen. Alicent has sent him on a covert mission to retrieve her wayward daughter, who has fled from the prospect of marrying her twin brother. It was supposed to be simple, but he quickly finds that the girl he thought to be so like her elder half-sister is in fact quite different.

12/24: Office Christmas Party A Fancy Party & Praising with Modern!Aemond x Reader

You totally aren't worried about making a fool of yourself at your boyfriend's office Christmas party. Why would you be? It's only hours of socializing with people richer than you, better dressed than you, and probably smarter than you. It's only the first time you would meet Aemond's famous family (who you may or may not have heard telling him how 'beneath him' you are whenever Aemond forgets you're home and has his phone on speaker). What about that could possibly make you nervous?

12/25: I'll Be Home for Christmas Promise & Phone Sex with Osferth x Reader

Your fiance, Osferth, has been gone far too long. The two month trip - to see all the holy sites from the New Testament - was already long enough as it is. But now, a massive blizzard has stranded him at the airport. It's Christmas Eve, and you might very well be spending your favorite holiday alone.

[ms-oswald]

unknown/nth | osferth

author’s note: for @arcielee​ 1K celebration - just a little drabble based on hozier’s song ‘unknown’. for you my dear, hoping you will enjoy ❤️ congratulations again on your milestone! and to @itbmojojoejo​, thank you for beta reading! lots of love & stay safe 💕

      He was but a warrior monk.

An angel amongst beast; words she whispered to him in bed as they danced in the middle of the night, amidst the flames of the hearth.

Dear Osferth, ever so endearingly naive. His blues covered in rose, the coloured lenses granted his sight with a mirage of grace and beauty.

And through the hues stood a vision in darkness, lustrous and holy.

And she wore a crown, birthed from the shadows of her storm; the halo ever so bright, induced by the strikes of lightning.

And she was scarlet, the shade hidden behind sweet smiles, soft touch and tender song.

Ever standing tall, she would spell treats in his ear, enticing his heart with sacred promises.

And the gentle boy could only see light.

And the cold front was weaving its way through the air, the missing guest to a dinner party.

     He was but a kind soul.

Syllables she would mumble under her breath, Eve’s lips drenching him in sin.

And the lyrics seeped to his bones, his heart weakened in delight as it fell to its knees under the weight of her love. It sought him out, like the mating call of the wild, an animal in heat searching for its prey.

And she would shine, a body of divinity, with her robes as crimson as the blood running through his veins.

And the noble warrior, the kind monk, ever so keen for her touch, would beg for a sliver of her mercy - a saint amongst sinners, he would sing.

As she was, her halo bringing light to the blind.

And again, angel would flutter across her tongue; the heaviness of such holy name drafted wings on his back.

And he raised her, up, up, into the heavens, her pedestal resting amongst the beauty of the skies where her throne stood, crafted from his bones and marrow.

To his devotion, he grew hungry; sated by the fruit of the Malus, the nectar of temptation ran deep within his throat.

And her fate was sealed as she ate with him; canines sinking into the sarcotestas, the juices dripped down her chin, unhinged and unbothered. The mess was abhorrent yet such it was, a wondrous masterpiece.

Darling Osferth could only stare at the cherry colours of her self-portrait, fumes seeping through his bloodstream and ignoring the way she was holding her meal, the pieces of her pomegranate dissolving within her grasp.

The tighter she held onto the seeded fruit, the deeper he loved her.

    And so unknown he had felt until she looked his way, her piercing gaze causing the chill to run amuck and raise his skin.

My heart is yours, he would share with her, intimately under the covers.

And she had promised care and tenderness, the echoes of her spell reaching his ears the way a Sunday sermon vibrates through his soul.

Enthralled by her undeniable beauty, she gifted him a smile that could light up the world; a grin stretched so wide, her teeth showed remnants of her food, the pieces of muscle throbbing and stuck in between as they cast an alluring shadow.

And within the cavities of her mouth, her tongue licked her bloodied teeth. A hum of pleasure roamed in her throat.

And the heart was missing from his chest; a cold wind washed through the gaping hole.

And the lamb had grown frightened, for its innocence had become bruised under the caress of the wolf, the fur drenched with red.

Such a flamboyant colour, bathing sin and desire under its murky waters.

And his feathers tickled him as he fell to his knees in prayer, worshipping his love with such might.

    And as the story went, beloved Osferth - creature of pure light and goodness; the threads of his sheet stretched too thin. The strings of the marionette grew unstable, ever so slowly, and slowly, demolishing the perfect piece that was her art.

The aftertaste of the exocarp stuck on his tongue, the snake slithered through the grass haunting him like working poison.

And all remained well, though the rose of his blues started to fade, the cracks unfitting of his love.

And as such, dinner was treacherous; sinking into the depth of her gaze, he drowned under ruby water where at the surface sat her friends, guests to the party.

And by her side was Cassius, and next to him was Brutus.

And the honour went to Judas, leader of them all.

And as poor Osferth sunk deep below, his feathers set aflame, the storm grew stronger as ice seized his limbs.

Her descent had begun, her sceptre slipping from her callous hand.

    He was but a gullible man, the sweet monk.

The whispers of the devil trailing in his mind, the snake was wrapped around the poor man’s neck.

He had grown cold, his heart empty, destroyed upon the teeth of Hellfire.

He was never the angel she claimed him to be; the wings, an illusion that she seared into his brain, a state of mind that no longer remained sane.

The fantasy shattered as she fell to his feet.

And the pedestal had cracked, the throne gone.

Such a fiend she had turned out to be.

And he begged for forgiveness, his guilt submerged under holy prayer.

The scorch marks on his back stayed, tragedy forever imprinted onto his skin.

As it was, the price of sin.

And so, what is betrayal but the act of desperation? When a lover seeks comfort, who to trust but the one who will break and bound you once again - a path all well known, all well dangerous, yet still taken.

And he grew to dislike apples, the juices rotting his guts with every bite.

And within the darkness of the caves, he held her hand, her tarnished fingers interlaced with his.

Because he was sweet and thoughtful, he led the path home.

Round and round they went, down below the circles of Hell.

Oh darling, I’m home - a song she spat to her sweet husband as she tightened her lover’s hold.

-------------------------------

xoxo

[juliets-obsession-corner]

The Fox & The Swan (TLK fic vibes)

A chill but fun introduction to the characters for my tlk fic :]

it is a time travel thing which i know is overdone buuuuuttttt i had an interesting idea having these two best friends trying to navigate things in the past AND i love history and banter (and angst ahem) anyway point is i love building relationships between all characters, and not just romantically so i thought it would be cool (but obvi mostly gonna be romance) i don't know what I'm saying anymore, I'm nervous and rambling🧍🏻‍♀️

(ahem, the main lads gonna be Sihtirc and Osferth but you didn't hear it from me)

I'm hoping to get the first few chapters done before actually posting them. Hopefully, that'll be soon :]

🦊 🦢 🦊 🦢

🦊 🦢 🦊 🦢

🦊 🦢 🦊 🦢

🦊 🦢 🦊 🦢

[the-common-cowgirl]

Hey you ICON!!! I wanted to make a request if possible... I was thinking on some Osferth with fem!reader or OC if you prefer. Some cute scene with a high born reader having a moment with Osferth where they comfort each other or something like that. And you know, a first kiss, or they realise they like each other or something, you choose, I trust you. I love The Lost Children, and I hope you are doing fine 🩷🩷🩷

Ask, and you shall receive (eventually lol). I did put a little bit of my own spin on it because I like to make everything dramatic. Hope you like it! I really enjoyed writing this!

She’s An Angel- Request

Osferth x Fem!(Unnamed)OC

Rating: Teen

Warnings: FLUFF!!!! Heavy religious mentioning a and such (it’s Osferth we are talking about), allusions to wanting to commit sexual acts.

Word Count: 1.5K

***

“I am a pious man. I am a pious man. I am a pious man.”

He resorted to saying it out loud, instead of his prior attempt at only repeating that line in his head, but as his lady - no, the noble daughter of the High Lord’s home that he current sits in, at his table, eating his food - walks about the great hall, Osferth can barely contain himself. Repeating those words over and over to himself quietly.

Well - not too quietly. Finan beside him overhears his mumblings. “What are you on about, baby monk?” Finan laughs and nudges his shoulder when Osferth visibly bristles.

Usually, Osferth wouldn’t have issue with that name. But here, in her presence, it rattles him. The last thing he’d want is for this pure Angel to show her hidden horns and laugh at him as well.

Osferth notices her turn away from her conversation, looking at the table erupting in laughter, trying to make sense of what Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his men were laughing about. Her face ever so scrunches in confusion and a playful smile transforms her lips into something akin to Heaven itself.

Osferth can’t take it any longer. The laughing, the harsh patting his back urging him to laugh along, and of course, the Angel across the room who just made eye contact with him. And she smiles at him.

He’s had enough.

Pushing harshly from the table, Osferth strides toward the two large doors keeping him inside this personal hell scape that he ever-so-willingly walked into; thinking he’d find shelter with an ally of Edward, not to be mocked and ridiculed by his own friends and God himself.

From the table behind him came disappointed hollers for him to come back but he just pushed the doors open and was quickly embraced by Spring’s brisk night air. He remembered there was a shallow creek just outside the city walls and right now, solitude alone with the sounds of only a creek’s babble sounded like a nice way to sit down and talk to God about his troubles. Maybe ask Him why he taunted Osferth so with her presence and why her presence bothered him so much.

The city gates were open as there was no current threat to the city, and he was able to pass unburdened with questions from the guards watching the wall.

He found the creek a short distance from the city and slumped down against a large tree that made its home near the water. The moonlight danced across the babbling creek as it meandered its way further south, toward Wessex. It was peaceful. Here was the perfect place to talk to God. Osferth closed his eyes and rested his hands on his head, elbows on his bent knees.

“Why must you taunt me?”

No answer.

“I am a pious man. Why must you send an Angel to tempt me?”

No answer.

“I’ll never be enough for her, yet, she’s everything I want.”

No answer.

“Give me that, please, give me enough.”

Osferth remembered the first time he met her. They were only seven. Her father had brought her to the monastery as he and his men brought goods to the men of God. Her father didn’t remember Osferth, a wee boy then, but she did. She must have. The way she looked at him when he entered her father’s hall just earlier today. She remembered the hours they spent down by the creek after she asked her father if she could go play with her new friend. That’s what she called Osferth then, “friend.” He wondered if she’d call him that still.

He never saw her again, at least, not in the flesh. But oh, how he dreamed of her. She visited him in his dreams every now and then. He wondered if she’d grown into a beautiful young woman as he had grown into a warrior, not a baby monk.

He had not expected her to be an Angel in the flesh, here to remind him he was nothing but a bastard, warrior monk with nothing to offer her but his undying love. That, would never be enough for her, nor her father. He would only be able to offer his heart; a whole, beating heart would always fall short to money or lands.

A crunch startled him from his off-course prayer. He looked behind him to the source and saw the answer to his prayers and his sentence to eternal damnation.

“Osferth,” she smiled warmly, oh so warmly, as she lowered the hood of her cloak. “I was hoping we would have a chance to talk after the feast my father held.”

She remembered him, she did. She sought him out. His heart beat so fast. He began to stand.

“No, no,” she halted him and moved the cloak so that she sat down on it, not to dirty her pretty dress. She sank onto the ground next to Osferth, too close for modesty between an unwed lady and a man. Osferth sat up straighter, more proper, and moved slightly away from her. He didn’t want to put distance between them, but he had to, for the sake of modesty and temptation.

A small, breathy chuckle escaped her lips and Osferth froze, thinking he had died right then. “I don’t bite,” she said playfully, drawing her attention to his not-so-subtle action.

He blushed, “I don’t believe you do, however,” he chuckled nervously, “I’d hate to be caught and accused of something we had not done.”

She laughed again, this time heartily. Osferth couldn’t find it in him to laugh alongside with her, his statement held truth and worry in his mind. She raised her hand and pointed back toward the city walls, “I am often alone here and no one can ever find me. You don’t have to worry about accusations for no one will see us.”

Osferth looked back to the city and blushed, “What an odd thing to say.” He wondered what her intentions were in seeking him out. “Did you follow me here?”

She smiled at him and shook her head, “No, I had just remembered our day by the creek and figured that you were here.”

He cocked his head in confusion and looked away, toward the water.

“-since you were thinking of me,” she added. Osferth blushed again, if he had to guess, he was scarlet by now.

“I-“ he stammered,” I wasn’t-“

She brought a single delicate finger to his lips, shushing him and delightfully shocking him. The heat from her skin could warm him on the coldest days. “Shush, dear Os,” the nickname made him blush yet again but he’d be damned if he pulled his lips away from her finger, “We’d both be lying if either of us said the other wasn’t on our minds.”

Her finger dropped, to his hand resting in the grass between them, covering it gently. He realized now she was leaning in, toward him. It was a strange, it was unexpected…she was quizzically different than he had thought she’d be now, alone with him. A bashful smile played at his pointed lips as he looked down to her delicate hand covering his rugged one, he turned his palm to her and she laced her fingers in his own. He felt heat bloom, radiating from where their skin met.

“I’ve missed you,” she breathed gentle-like, almost like the soft, cool breeze that surrounded them. Osferth’s eyes met her own, and he knew the Lord above answered his questions when the moonlight danced off her big hazel eyes.

“I’ve- I’ve missed you too,” he confessed. “I think about you often. I often wonder where life had brought you.” His voice was soft with trepidation. Worried he’d overstep in his honestly.

She only smiled softer, “I think about that boy, at the monastery. Dream about him.” Osferth wanted to look away, bashfully, but kept his blue eyes on her. “And sometimes,” she spoke so softly now, like a whisper, like she didn’t want God to hear, “sometimes I’d pray…pray that boy left that order behind. And he’d find me. Steal me away. And we’d live happily ever after. Like in the fairytales.”

He chuckled, hoping she wasn’t jesting but believing there was no way a high born daughter of a powerful Lord would leave her life of comfort behind to live with him, a bastard warrior monk with no lands of titles.

Her smile dropped, her eyes were serious. “Osferth, I’m pleading with you. Don’t deny me of this.”

Osferth didn’t respond. His gaze dropped to her lips, her ever-so-plump lips that she held slightly open, pleading for him to make her his. He leaned in first, she followed.

I’m not taunting you.

An answer.

I’m not tempting you.

An answer.

Your heart is enough.

The answer.

In a heartbeat, their lips met. An his words crashed around him.

I’m a pious man.

So I love an Angel.

I’m a man of God.

And I will defile an Angel.

I’m a bastard, sinner, warrior, monk.

And she’s an Angel.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

12 Days of Smuff Line-up

This December, I will be participating in the 12 days of smuff challenge by @madmax8603 ! I’m so excited that I’ve already decided on the pairings and basic plot lines! There’s two fics in here that will be companion pieces to my existing series (What is Broken and Studious)!

Here’s the schedule:

12/14: Hand holding & dry humping: What is Broken!Aemond x fiancée Wifey

12/15: Dreams & dirty talk: Tom Bennet x reader

12/16: In nature & deep throating: Aemond x wife! Reader

12/17: Reassurance & car sex: Modern!Aegon x reader

12/18: Diary/letters & lingerie kink: Tom Bennet x reader

12/19: Future & face sitting: Billy Washington x reader

12/20: Sharing a drink & toys: Daemon x reader

12/21: Sunset/sunrise & orgasm control: Studious!Aemond x Wife! Reader

12/22 Swimming & face fucking: Tom Bennet x reader

12/23: Bed sharing & accidental stimulation: Criston Cole x Aegon’s Twin!Reader

12/24;A fancy party & praising: Modern!Aemond x reader

12/25: Promise & phone sex: Modern!Osferth x reader

Can’t wait to write and share these with y’all!!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Deathless Death

Pairing: Osferth x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Religious guilt. Smut. Fingering. Slight exhibitionism. Oral (f receiving). Gratuitous Hozier references. Word count: 3.5k

Summary: When a young woman's father is killed following Skade's attack on the priests of Alton, Osferth agrees to take responsibility for her, feeling a need to protect a fellow Christian. However, the longer they travel together the deeper they have each other questioning their faith. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is a belief that Osferth has always clung firmly to, it is the only way he can justify his existence; the result of a union between a serving girl and a deeply religious king who, so embarrassed by his extramarital indiscretion, had ensured that Osferth was enrolled as a novice monk as soon as he was old enough, and refused to ever acknowledge him as his son.

Osferth is a bastard, yet he must have a purpose, for God does not give life without intent. He feels he has found his reason for being when he crosses paths with Uhtred, a man his uncle, Leofric, had always spoken kindly of. He offers to serve Uhtred as a warrior, though he has no fighting experience. This is the divine path chosen for him, he is certain of it. He clutches the hilt of his sword as tightly as he often grips the cross that sits around his neck in times of anguish, and does his best to be brave in spite of how afraid he feels.

Reluctantly he learns the ways of ale and women, surprised when the Lord does not smite him down for his sins. He surmises that he has misinterpreted the teachings of the Holy Book; a life of piety does not have to mean an existence endured in abstinence. Though his faith in God never once falters, he grows to enjoy, and even seek out, the pleasures he’d once mistaken for temptations. They are not a means for him to stray from the light, but another outlet in which he can revere it and give thanks.

It is not until he reaches the village of Alton with Uhtred and his men that he discovers the true purpose of the journey he has embarked upon. A group of Danes with a seeress named Skade in their midst has attacked the village, killing all of its holy men.

That is where he finds her. Such a fragile looking thing, sobbing her heart out while huddled behind a vegetable cart, clutching her cross in much the same way he used to do with his.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reassures her calmly, crouching so his face is level with hers.

“Are you an angel?” She asks tearfully, her eyes wide and imploring.

Osferth cannot help but smile at that. For you I’d like to be.

With gentle persuasion, Uhtred agrees to allow Osferth to bring the girl along, provided he is responsible for her. He is all too happy to agree to that. Her mother is long dead and the attack on Alton has killed her father, she has no one else. He was meant to meet her, he feels it in his heart.

Naturally, she is fearful of the others, her only prior encounter with heathens had ended in the death of her only living relative and left her all alone in the world. She clings to Osferth, but he does not mind it. He sees a lot of himself in her, how scared he’d been when he’d first left the monastery to accompany Uhtred. But if she is anything like him, she is resilient and she will pull through this.

As the weeks pass, her face becomes less marred by fear and grief. She is beautiful, Osferth realises. He has been grateful to have someone to bow his head in prayer with, however, the way that she snuggles next to him for warmth in front of the campfire, how closely she leans back against his chest as they ride together and the proximity in which she lays her bed roll next to his no longer feel so innocent, at least not to him.

He feels ashamed for harbouring such illicit thoughts about her. Her piety makes him feel like he is the worst kind of sinner. She does not partake in ale and stays quiet when the rest of the group share lewd jokes. Where her prayers are earnest and heartfelt, his feel flimsy and disingenuous. He would renounce the Lord and worship her instead if she asked it of him. The idea makes his stones ache. When she shivers and huddles to him for warmth it occurs to him that he’d burn everything in his path if only for her to never feel cold again.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest at the thoughts and feelings she elicits from him, especially when she looks at him, her eyes are always filled with gratitude and adoration. He has grown to crave her gaze, despite the fact that she will never view him as anything more than a protector.

When it becomes too much for him to bear, he seeks the comfort of the nearest brothel. With each thrust into the whore beneath him, he imagines her face, how those hands that fold so delicately in prayer would feel clinging to his shoulders, how soft and supple her flesh would be against the wiry hardness of his own. When he reaches his peak, picturing her, he comes harder than he ever has before in his life. It feels like he has died and approached the very gates of Heaven.

If that is how it feels merely to think about her, he wonders what it would be like to actually be inside of her. It would surely feel holy and sacred, a pleasure not meant for mere mortals. For the second time that night he craves her, and so he seeks out another woman offering her services in the pleasure house.

He pays them well, and he is not unkind to them. He is convinced that that is why they fight over him the next day. He is mortified, especially when he sees that she is watching. She will think him godless, sinful. He hopes that the Lord is merciful and does not intend for her to leave him. He sends a silent prayer of thanks when she remains by his side in the days that follow.

It is not until Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan pay a visit to Alfred, and leave Osferth and her back at camp that he realises they’ve never truly been alone together. He shifts uncomfortably on the log he sits upon, glancing up from the flames of the fire every so often at her, unsure of what to say. She eyes him curiously the entire time, the warmth from the fire and the sunny afternoon meaning she does not snuggle to him as she usually would. Secretly he is disappointed.

“Do you still believe in God?” She asks quietly.

Her gaze is timid and as Osferth turns to meet her eye, she looks to her lap as though ashamed to have asked.

“Of course I do, my lady,” He replies softly, smiling at her. He wants more than anything for her to look at him again, there is something reverent in the way she regards him that makes his chest swell and his cock twitch. He could die happily with a single glance his way from her. “My faith has never waivered.”

“You are not as devout as the people from back home.” Her fingers pinch and stroke over the fabric of her skirt as she says this, not looking up at him as he sits across from her.

“I used to be,” He admits with a slight shrug, wondering if she thinks less of him for his perceived lack of faith. “I suppose travelling with Uhtred has taught me that faith does not mean deprivation. The Lord made life for living.”

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes flicker to his. “Is that why you visit brothels, and why those women fight over you?”

He feels his cheeks heat up as she asks this, and suddenly it’s his turn to look away, embarrassed. He takes a moment to consider his reply, not wanting to sully her innocence with vulgarity, or say anything that might frighten her. “I was celibate when I was a monk…” He begins awkwardly. “I’m not anymore. Truthfully, partaking in the pleasures of the flesh feels like the closest experience to meeting God without dying.”

He knows he has turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears by the time he finishes speaking, he cannot bear to look at her for fear of what he might see in her eyes. She must think he is utterly depraved.

The moment of silence between them hangs thick and uncomfortable before she finally breaks it. “If that is why you are fought over…then I am eager to find out for myself.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide, stunned and unsure of if he has heard correctly, it seems too forward a statement for such a pious little thing like her. However, her stare is steady and unwavering as it meets his, causing his breath to hitch. He hadn’t misheard her and she meant every word.

The cracking of a twig causes them to finally look away from each other, as they turn to see the others returning. He has never been displeased to see any of them before, but can’t help but wish they’d left it a little longer to come back.

Her words play on a loop in Osferth’s thoughts. I am eager to find out for myself. He frantically strokes himself to release that night, once more plagued by visions of her, the silkiness of her hair, her scent, the dulcet tone of her giggle. There is no sweeter innocence in his mind than the gentle sin that he shares with her.

There is a storm the following evening. Though they are camped beneath a thatch of trees, protected from the worst of the downpour, it does little to block out the boom of the thunder and the crackle of lightning. She whimpers at every crash, clearly frightened, and Osferth’s heart aches for her. He’d do anything to make sure the expression of fear and sadness she wore for the first few weeks they traveled together never returns.

He pulls her tight to him, wrapping the furs around them both as they sit around the fire with the others. They don’t bat an eye at the familiarity between the two, understanding of the fact that she finds comfort in a fellow Christian’s presence and that Osferth is simply offering kindness to someone in need of it.

She melts into his embrace and he allows his hands to wander over her beneath the furs, tracing the curves of her through her dress. He has never dared to touch her like this before and she looks up at him questioningly, though makes no move to stop him.

Emboldened by her silent consent, he strokes her hair with his free hand, while allowing the other to push up her skirt. She gasps at this and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter while Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric continue their conversation, all assuming she is just startled by the storm that rages above them.

Her inner thighs are velvety smooth as his fingertips trace over the flesh of them. Not even angel’s wings feel as divine as this, he thinks. As the pads of his digits make contact with the gusset of her smallclothes he draws in a shaky inhale at finding that it is damp with her arousal. It darkens the desire within him to have confirmation that she is just as affected by him as he is by her, and he pushes her underclothes to the side, stroking through the slickness of her folds.

She shudders against him, her breathing growing heavier and he quietly shushes her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. He looks up to see Finan give him a sympathetic smile, clearly assuming Osferth is comforting her, before he is distracted by Uhtred swatting him softly with the back of his hand in order to gain back his attention.

Osferth looks back down at her, she is peeking up at him from where her head rests against his chest and in the flicker of the firelight he can see that her pupils are wide with lust. It is a look he has seen on the faces of many of the women within the pleasure houses he’s visited over the years. To see it burning bright within the eyes of someone so pure is enough to drive him to madness with the desire it awakens within him.

Shielded from view beneath the furs, he circles her pearl with precision, silently delighting in the way she clutches at his robes and bucks slightly up at his hand. He feels she’s growing close when her body tenses against his and she stares up at him, worry evident in how her brows pinch together. Poor thing has never peaked before.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, coaxing her to let go.

He cradles her head to his chest as she trembles and gasps against him, before finally going limp. Osferth withdraws his hand, allowing her to slump sleepily against him, smiling softly down at her as her eyes drift closed.

He knows in that moment that she will be both his salvation and his damnation, and he welcomes both with open arms.

It is another week before they are left alone together, and life carries on as normal. They do not speak of what happened beneath the furs on the night of the storm, despite the fact that it’s all Osferth can think about.

The others head away from camp one evening to scout the locations of a possible attack from the Danes. It is too dangerous for her to come along, so Osferth remains behind so she is not left alone. This time she seats herself next to him, and he feels his mouth run dry, heart hammering in his chest as he struggles to think of what to say to her.

He startles when she places her hand on his. “You are right,” She says with a shy smile. “It felt…like something divine…when you touched me.”

Osferth swallows thickly. “You liked it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear her say it.

She nods, chewing her lip nervously. “I did. Does that make me a sinner?”

His eyes widen in mild horror that she could ever consider herself such. “No, that is something you could never be.”

“I am not repentant though,” She muses, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I have thought of nothing else.”

“That is only natural.” He tells her, suddenly aware of how close their faces are, noses almost brushing. His gaze flits to her lips momentarily. Osferth has never kissed a woman before, though he has fucked plenty; the ones he exchanges coin with do not allow such intimate gestures. He desperately wants to kiss her though.

He is surprised by her boldness when she leans in first. It is a quick peck to his lips, which she rapidly withdraws from, looking sheepish. He cups her cheek, coaxing her back and presses his mouth to hers with more pressure. She softens against the movement and for a moment it feels as though time has stopped for Osferth. There is only her. It is a kiss riddled with youthful inexperience and yet he does not think there has ever been anything better.

“Will you…” She mutters against his lips, clearly uneasy with attempting to ask for what she wants.

“Touch you?” He finishes for her.

“Yes,” She whispers, “I want to feel…” She places a hand over her face, giggling. “I have never laid with a man before. I do not know what to ask for.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures her. “I understand.” Osferth coaxes her to sit on his lap as she had the night of the storm, only this time there are no furs to cover them, and he rucks her skirt up around her hips, rather than slipping his hand beneath it.

“Take these off for me.” He says, plucking at her smallclothes.

She does as he instructs and he pulls her tight against him, her back flush with his chest as his arm snakes around her waist, dipping his hand between her legs. She is wet already and he cannot help the groan that escapes him as his fingers make contact with her core.

He circles her bud slowly and she clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the mewl that threatens to spill forth.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.” He tells her, as she turns her face into his neck, her breath coming in hot puffs against his skin.

Tentatively he dips a finger into her entrance, conscious of the fact that she has never had anything inside of her before - the thought that he is the first makes him swell painfully hard against her rear as it presses back into his lap. Her grip on his digit as he inserts it is vice-like and he wonders how she’d feel squeezing around the length of him, if she ever allows him to take things that far.

He sets a steady rhythm of dragging his finger against a rough patch inside of her that causes sounds that are prettier than any of the songs he’s heard at æfensang to spill forth from her, while circling her pearl with his thumb.

She squirms against him, her arm reaching above and behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers scrabble desperately at the back of his robes. Her jaw is slack, her eyes glassy and Osferth believes that if the Heavens could speak then her wanton cries of pleasure would be their mouthpiece.

She falls apart with a violent shudder, clenching ceaselessly around his finger and he withdraws it slowly as she begins to calm, continuing to hold her close. Though he is pleased to have brought her to peak, he feels disappointed that the moment is over so soon. He wants, needs, longer to enjoy her.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers to her, pressing his face to her hair. “Will you allow me to taste you?”

“Taste me?” She asks, confusion etched across her pretty features. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I will show you.” He tells her, ushering her off of him and laying down. “Come here.”

There is no question in Osferth’s mind that he would ever allow her to lay upon the ground, she is too good for that. He will gladly let her sit atop him so that she never has to experience that indignity or discomfort.

He guides her to straddle him, pushing her upwards towards his face, but she falters.

“Osferth, I’ll crush you!” She protests, hovering above him.

“You won’t, my lady.” He tells her with a soft chuckle, tugging insistently at her thighs.

She relents, hovering over his face. “What are you going to…oh!”

He cuts her off, gripping her outer thighs and runs the flat of his tongue against her centre. He can taste the remnants of her previous climax and hums at the sensation. She is sweeter than honeyed wine, an essence so pure it must be holy.

Tugging her flush against his face he laps at her like a man starved, sucking harshly against her pearl, before licking hungrily through the slick that gathers as she whines and writhes above him. If there is a Heaven then he has found it between her thighs and never wants to leave.

He strains painfully against his breeches beneath his robes as she begins to lose control, grinding against each flick of his tongue. He knows she will not last long, already sensitive from his earlier attention and so he savours each moment; her taste, her scent, the feel of her against his mouth and how she moves against him. She is a vision of beauty beyond comprehension as she sits astride him, thread thrown back, moans of ecstasy offered up to the night sky.

She was created in the image of all things good and pure, and his journey so far has led him to her; she is made for him, of this he is certain as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. He swallows down her release like it’s communion wine. In her gratification he is cleansed, reborn.

Osferth lays her down carefully on her bed roll afterwards, covering her body with his own. She appears almost drunk as she gazes up at him, eyes heavy lidded with a soft smile upon her lips.

“My sweet girl,” He coos to her, softly stroking her face. “Can you take more? Will you let me inside?”

As she opens her mouth to answer, the raucous laughter of Finan can be heard in the near distance. The group is returning.

Osferth moves quickly away from her, laying down on his own sleeping mat, watching her as her eyes flutter closed. He hopes she will dream of him. He hopes they will have further opportunities to explore each other. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and she is the most precious mystery he has yet to encounter.

[alexagirlie]

Bathhouse Rewards

A/N: uh I hope everyone can go to church (or your equivalent) after reading this :D a labour of love. a mess of self indulgent filth.

To everyone I promised 2 parts... sorry! I wrote it one single longshot instead, my WIP is breeding again... hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard by me, divider by @zaldritzosrose

Fandom: The Last Kingdom

Pairing: Reader x Finan x Osferth x Sihtric x Uhtred

Rating: E, definitely E

Words: 5k on the dot

Content Warnings: smut. filthy filthy smut. poly relationships. nudity. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. oral sex (f receiving). multiple orgasms. masturbating/hand job (m/m). rimming. anal sex (f receiving). touch of rough sex. double penetration. cum eating. frottage (m/m). implied voyeurism. implied exhibitionism. coccham squad being their charming selves and reader is down to fuck.

taglist (pls ask to be added or removed): @foxyanon @gemini-mama @thenameswinter99 @legitalicat

It had been a hard fight but the battle was won and you traveled with your Lord, Uhtred, and a small company of his most trusted men. You rode at the back of the group, trailing behind Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth. You traveled not back to Coccham, the village you all called home, but to Wintanchester, to report the results of Uhtred's latest victory to King Alfred. 

You arrived in Wintanchester just as the sun was setting and the fading light blanketed the sprawling city. Wintanchester was prospering, in no small part thanks to the efforts of your Lord and his warriors, and the town boasted the best Inns and amenities one could possibly ask for.

One such amenity was the newly constructed public bathhouse, fashioned after the style of baths the Romans of old had once used and was hugely popular amongst nobles and peasants alike. It was made of many rooms filled with great sunken pools built of smooth stone blocks and filled to the brim with an endless supply of simmering hot water, scented sweet and alluring. 

It was these very baths that the men you accompanied wouldn't stop talking about as they entered Wintanchester. Luckily the recent victory made Uhtred generous and he offered to pay for a private room at the bathhouse as a reward for a battle well fought.

“I must report to Alfred first but we have earned this reward.” He declared as he turned his horse towards Alfred's keep. He tossed a small leather pouch in Finan's direction, the Irishman deftly catching it. “For the Inn and the bathhouse. I will join you soon.”

You had just broken away from the group, urging your horse towards your preferred stable outside your favourite inn when Uhtred's voice called your attention back to him.

“Feel free to join us!” He called out, humour clear in his voice, “if you can stomach the stink on this lot.” 

His words were met with rolled eyes and laughter from his assembled men, clearly meant to be a jest but the idea stuck with you as you got your horse settled and fed and saw to your bed for the night.

Why not take Uhtred up on his offer? Why not offer yourself to them and see what the fates had planned for you?

All four of the men had been subtly trying to court you for weeks, assisting you with chores around Coccham, leaving you small but thoughtful gifts. Must you choose? Each man had their own appeal, with no clear winner in your heart.

Osferth was such a sweet and caring soul, who never failed to inspire you with his bravery on the field even though it was obvious that fighting was not in his nature. He was an incredibly open-minded young man, who never judged others, he treated them all with compassion whether Saxon or Dane, Christian or Pagan.

Sihtric seemed rough on the outside but his loyalty was unmatched to any other who served under Uhtred's command. Almost loyal to a fault but that was something you greatly admired about him, his willingness to do whatever was requested of him, no matter how unpleasant the task was.

Finan was the most level headed of the group, a trait which made him a fearsome warrior and a highly capable commander of Uhtred's houseguard. He was incredibly protective of those that had earned his regard and in recent months that had extended to you. You would forever be grateful to have him at your back, on or off the battlefield.

Uhtred was bold, some might even go so far as to say rash but his battle cunning had led to many victories in service to Wessex and Alfred and that made him a Lord many wished to follow. He was generous and always shared the spoils of his battles with his men and with the villagers under his care in Coccham. 

Each man could offer you something different and fulfilling but you wanted to be greedy, you didn't want to choose. You wanted them all, and why not? They were an exceptionally close group of warriors, loyal to each other and closer than brothers. Surely they would be capable of sharing you?

Decision made you left your saddlebag, your weapons and your armour in your rented room and left the Inn to find the bathhouse. You arrived in time to watch as  Finan paid the attendant for their stay and he, Osferth and Sihtric were led out of sight towards one of the private rooms. You waited in the shadows for nearly a full candle mark until Uhtred arrived, his business with Alfred concluded. 

You followed Uhtred, easily slipping past the attendant and sneaking down the hallway toward the room your men were in. You tried not to stare as Uhtred removed his tunic and trousers, revealing the muscular warrior's body hidden underneath, the only bit of softness on him the curve of his arse and the soft length of his cock hanging between his thighs. 

The thought of that cock stretching you open made your breath hitch in your throat and already you could feel the wetness between your legs. You forced yourself to turn away as your Lord walked out of sight, and you could hear the muffled sound of splashing and low voices coming from the private room. 

Your face was burning as you took several steadying breaths to try and calm your racing heart. Your stomach was fluttering, nerves and good sense warring with your decision, trying to convince you that this was a terrible idea, that they would reject you or pass it off as a jest and laugh you out of the room. 

Or worse. That when presented with your nude body they would be completely unmoved. Their actions over the recent weeks not courting attempts like you had assumed but simple friendly assistance to another warrior and friend and they didn't desire you at all.

You took another fortifying breath and pushed your worries from your mind. You had not misinterpreted their intentions or the look in their eyes when you caught them staring. The heat, the desire. You were doing this. 

You disrobed as quickly as you could and wrapped yourself in one of the provided towels, at least if this didn't go completely according to plan you wouldn't be completely bare. You steeled your resolve and entered the room. 

It took a moment for them to notice your presence and you can admit to yourself that you enjoyed how they were all shocked into silence at your appearance. You gave them a moment to speak as you walked closer to the edge of the bath but none of the men did more than just watch so you were forced to finally break the silence. 

“Thought I would take you up on your offer Lord, if it still stands?”

You see the struck dumb expression on Uhtred's face and a quick glance down showed that at least one part of the Lord did not mind you interrupting them as you get your first real glimpse of his cock. You had seen each of the men partially nude before, tending wounds and washing in the river after a battle, but never like this, never hard and aching for you. The Lord was quick to sit back in the water, hiding his arousal from you while gesturing for you to take a seat.

You bit back a grin as you stepped into the warm water. You leave your towel wrapped around you until you are fully submerged and only then did you bare yourself completely, fighting the rising heat in your face as they all watched you with darkened eyes. The water obscures some of your form but not all and it was obvious how they drank you in. 

“Well the way you all talked about this place I just had to try it out for myself. I deserve to be rewarded too.” You smiled cautiously, “and there are none I would rather share it with.”

You see the men share a look with each other, silently communicating, trying to uncover the truth and meaning behind your words. 

Finan gave voice to their thoughts, “A lady bathing alone with a group of renowned warriors … people might think you are looking to get humped.”

You gather every ounce of your self confidence and send the Irish warrior a flirtatious look. “Perhaps that is exactly what I am hoping will happen.”

You watch as your words sank in, as your meaning became clear and you know they understood perfectly when Uhtred suddenly stood and stalked towards you until he towering over you. You would have been intimidated but it was hard to be when you had seen this man so drunk he couldn't walk, and the fact that the sight of his hard cock made your mouth water.

“Well then as your Lord I demand first rights.” Uhtred managed to look a Lord in that moment as well, nude, cock rising from between his thighs, but the confidence exuding from the man could only come from nobility. 

Finan snorted and leaned back on the stone ledge, his arms spread out on either side of him, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing with the action.

“Maybe she wants a proper cock first, not that small thing you boast between your legs.” He teased, the humour clear in his voice and Uhtred playfully splashed the other man and made a jibe back about showing Finan a proper cock.

You look at the other two men present, trying to gauge their reaction to your words.

You look to Osferth first and the poor baby monk was as red as a tomato, the stain spreading over his face and even his ears were pink! He had trouble meeting your eyes but he flashed you a bashful smile below looking away again. He would be so sweet when you got to him.

Sihtric, you noticed, couldn't take his eyes off you, but he sweetly kept those eyes on your face, not on other parts of you a man might reasonably be distracted by. He had a look of mild concern on his face. 

When he saw you looking, he opened his mouth to ask another, important question “Are you sure that is what you want?”

He looked reassured when you nodded.

“I know what to expect.” You answered him with a sly look. You licked your lips before asking with a cheeky grin “How would you have worked off the energy if I did not join you?” 

It was a rhetorical question, You were both aware that you knew the answer of course, having seen Sihtric sneak into both Osferth’s and Finan's tents before or Finan slipping into Uhtreds. Had heard the sounds coming from those same tents afterward. You had even crossed paths with Sihtric after one such encounter, the disheveled state of his hair and clothing and the love marks on his neck evidence enough to confirm your suspensions. 

It was not unusual for warriors to lie with each other on the road or before battle after all and you didn't mind the idea of it. In fact you had often found yourself wondering what they would look like together, their battle hardened bodies bare and tangled together. The thought had helped you find pleasure in the dead of night, when all you had was the touch of your own hands and your imagination.

You hoped you would have the chance to learn the reality of it that night. To see if they worked as well together, here, as they did on the battlefield.

“Now,” you held a hand out toward Uhtred. “Let the Lord have his fun, Finan.”

You thought you would feel self conscious,  being kissed while another, or several others, watched. Your previous relations had always been behind closed doors or hidden away in a tent, never with an audience, but as Uhtred's lips met yours all worries were swept away. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to his chest as your arms clung to his shoulders. He was so warm and you burrowed in even closer.

You felt Uhtred's tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately granted. You moaned as his hands found their way into your hair, fingers threading through the braids, and he tilted your head to give the kiss the best angle. You opened your mouth wider and his tongue tangled together with yours. Uhtred was a good kisser, thorough and demanding and you soon found your knees weak as he stole the very breath from your lungs. 

You ran your hands down his body, fingers mapping out each dip and curve, learning the strength contained within. 

Uhtred returned the favour, his hands moving out of your hair and traveling down your body, learning you just as you learned him. His hands settled just below your arse, gripping tight and the flexing of his upper body the only warning you got before he lifted you clear out of the water, mouths never separating. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hard cock trapped between you, and your core throbbed at the hot press of it against your most intimate place. You wanted it in you so badly.

Uhtred sat on the bench which lined the perimeter of the bath and settled you into his lap. The action sliding his cock against the front of your body, his length wet with a combination of your slick and his own weeping head. He slid his hands over your body, traveling up your sides, brushing against the swell of your breasts before roaming back down. 

You felt like a goddess, like Freyja made flesh and these men were here to worship you.

You were so wet for him already, for them, that when one of Uhtred's hands slipped between the press of your bodies and he worked his fingers between your thighs, they quickly became wet and slippery. The matching moans you let out as they slid between your folds, barely paying attention to your nub, barely a touch, a tease, then finding your aching core. You raised up on your knees to give him more room and he pressed two inside. You were so ready that they slid in with no resistance and you rocking down against his hand, taking them in deeper. 

You throw your head back as he twisted his fingers inside you, gasping and shuddering as he worked the two, then three into the tight grip of your body. The palm of his hands was pressed against your mound, providing the perfect pressure against your throbbing nub and already you felt the familiar heat growing in your belly. 

It had been a long time since you had last been with a man, your body responding more desperately than you were used to and all it took for you to come wailing was Uhtred's lips wrapping around one hardened nipple and sucking. 

Your voice quivered and echoed through the room, growing in volume as your Lord drew the pleasure out until you were forced to shove him away. Your inner walls were still pulsing as Uhtred pulled his fingers free and the heat was back in your face at the sight of them glistening with the evidence of your release. 

He licked them clean with a few swipes of his tongue and he moaned lowly before giving you a wink. “That was fast.”

You smacked his chest weakly at the comment. 

“Do not look so pleased with yourself Lord Uhtred,” you warned playfully, trying to hide the embarrassment running through you, ‘I haven't had a man since before joining you lot. You've scared away all other suitors.”

You pouted as Uhtred shared an amused look with the other men, a soft chuckled you recognized as Sihtric coming from behind you.

You felt a presence at your back, a wall of heat, then a familiar voice, Irish accent made even thicker with what you assumed was arousal “Apologies, we wanted you for ourselves. Couldn’t risk anyone else stealing you away.”

You lean back in Uhtred hold, your back pressed against Finan’s broad, muscled chest and felt the scrape of beard on your neck as he laid gentle kisses on your skin. His hands settled on your hips and he guided you to raise up higher as Uhtred got a hand between your bodies to line his cock up with your cunt. 

“Ready?” Uhtred asked, his piercing blues eyes meeting yours as he waited for you to nod your consent.

The sound that escaped you as you sank down on Uhtred's cock was barely a sigh, it was breathy and waivered but was filled with so much pleasure as your walls were stretched wide around his girth. 

It really had been to long since you've been humped good and proper and as you adjust and Uhtred started to fuck you in earnest you let yourself get lost in the feeling. The pleasant burn of his cock stretching you open and filling you to the hilt. The pace he set as he thrust up into you as two pairs of hands guide the rocking of your hips. 

You felt amazing being held between these two men, Uhtred playing with your breasts, cupping them firmly and his tongue paying special attention to your perk nipples before sucking them into his mouth. Finan at your back, running his hands over your body and down to rub teasing circles around your nub. It didn't take much to build you back up to the edge of another, mind shattering orgasm. A nip of Uhtred's teeth and one last clever application of Finan's fingers and you were crying out in overwhelming pleasure as you shook through your release.

You barely noticed as Uhtred pulled his cock out, slumped bonelessly against Finan's chest, and stroked himself until he spent, his seed spilling over his fingers and disappearing into the water.

You were roused from your stupor when you heard moaning coming from the other side of the bath and you looked over to see Sihtric and Osferth. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder and Osferth's head was tipped back, his eyes hooded and dark with arousal as they watched you being ravished, cheeks now red.

Sihtric’s hands were under the water, the shifting muscle of his shoulder and the blurry shadow of his arms moving told you he had both his own and Osferth's cock in hand and was stroking leisurely. 

You sighed, moved by the sight and you considered going to one of them next when Finan took the decision right out of your hands. He forced your attention back on him as he hefted you out of Uhtred's lap and you couldn't stop the squeal you let out at the unexpected action. He carried you to the edge of the bath so he could bend you over the warm stones. 

“Ready for a real cock?” he asked as he leaned over your back, gently moving one of your braids out of your face.

You laughed at the Irishman's confident attitude but the sound pittered out into a desperate moan as he slid his hard cock between your folds and the head bumped up against your nub sending a jolt of heat up your spine. 

You were swollen and a little sore already but you wanted him inside you just as desperately as you had wanted Uhtred. You arched your back and pressed your heated cheek to the stones.

“Please” you begged, looking up at the Irishman from the corner of your eye  “Please.”

The feeling of him sliding into you took your breath away, the feeling of his huge cock spearing you open made your legs tremble and tears of pleasure fill your eyes and you moaned brokenly as he bottomed out. His hips pressed flush to your arse as he let you adjust. He was bigger then Uhtred, much bigger and you needed a moment to catch your breath and relax enough for him to start fucking you, and fuck you he did. 

Finan was unrelenting, fucking you hard, making you feel each thrust as his large cock stretched you out and made you feel so full. He fucked you so hard that the edge of the stones tiles dug into the meat of your thighs and even that sharp sting felt so good and made you even wetter for him. 

He grabbed you by the hips, pulling your body back into each thrust at the perfect angle to slam against your most sensitive spot. The unrelented pounding, combined with the rough brush of the stone tiles against your sensitive nipples hurtling you towards another release.

You had never finished more than twice before so a third caught you completely by surprise. You thrashed against the stone, wailing as the pleasure crashed over you and left you quaking in its wake.

You barely noticed the splash of wet heat as Finan pulled out and finished across your lower back and the curve of your arse.

You laid there, limp and breathing hard, stunned by the strength of the orgasm you had just experienced. Briefly you wondered if you could actually handle all four men, but determination pushed the thought away. You wanted them all and so you would have them all. 

“Sihtric, help the lady get cleaned up.”

You gasped at the feeling of a wet tongue sliding across your skin, cleaning away the splatters of Finan's seed. 

He didn't stop there, his tongue wiggled its way between your folds and Sihtric moaned as your slick flooded his mouth. 

You gasped as that tongue moved up, between the cheeks of your arse and over your hole. You flinched, not sure if you liked the feeling or not.

Sihtric pulled away and nipped at the flesh of your hip. “Have you ever taken a man here before?” He asked, voice raspy and filled with arousal. His fingers teasing over your arse as you shook your head vehemently. You were far from a blushing maiden but you had never had a man take you in that way.

“Would you like to?”

His words stunned you into stillness. Would you? Why? You knew that when men lay together that was how it was done but why would you want to?

Sihtric seemed to be able to read your mind and he helped you to face him and he gathered you into his arms. He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, at odds with the depravity that the five of you were in the midst of. 

“I would like to share you with Osferth. Keep you between us as we both claim you and make you ours,” he explained, pressing another sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You still weren't sure and Sihtric held you tighter. “I promise it will feel good and if it doesn't we can stop.”

You looked up into his eyes, noting how dark they had turned with his arousal.

“Have you done it before?” You asked, “with a woman I mean.”

“I have,” he answered, no hesitation in his voice. “I've shared women with Osferth before, and with Finan.”

You looked over at Osferth, the shy baby monk giving you an encouraging smile as he waded a few steps closer to where you and Sihtric stood.

You thought it over carefully and the idea of being held between them was definitely an appealing one. Having both their hands on you, being filled with both their cocks, sharing something you had never shared with anyone else before. You felt warm and your cunt throbbed.

You nodded. 

Sihtric helped turn you back over onto your front so he could press lips and tongue to your arse again, getting you slick and ready to take them both. Once he deemed you ready, Sihtric rearranged you to his liking. 

He sat on the edge of the bath with his feet on the bench in the steaming water. He had your back to his chest and your legs spread wide with Osferth kneeling on the bench between them. They had your legs hooked over the crook of Sihtric’s elbows and they both helped balanced your weight as they lowered you onto Sihtric's cock. He wasn't as thick as Finan was but he was longer and the feeling of him filling your arse was strange. It didn't hurt, you were too relaxed from three orgasms and Sihtric's ministrations to get you ready but you weren't sure if you liked it. 

At least, not until Osferth brushed teasing fingers over your nub, the surprisingly confident touch sending heat to your core and you moaned as you started to relax. it finally started to feel good as the two men lifted and lowered you with ease between them. 

Sihtric fucked you a little faster, a little harder and Osferth slipped two fingers into your dripping cunt. They were long and nimble but stayed inside you only for a short while before he withdrew them so he could shift closer and pressed his cock inside you instead.

You were full to near bursting, the feeling overwhelming as they alternated thrusting inside of you. Your most sensitive spot being stimulated in a way you had never experienced before and you couldn't stop the way you went completely boneless between them, the way your lips fell open and the most lewd moans poured out. 

There was no way that the other patrons of the bathhouse couldn't hear the noises you were making but you didn't care. You didn't care about the rumours that would spread across the town, the dirty looks you would receive. All you cared about was how good it felt to finally be fucked by your men.

Your not sure how much time had past but both Sihtric and Osferth were fucking you harder and harder. Their rhythm faltered as they neared their peaks. Suddenly a truly lustful thought flooded your mind and you couldn't stop yourself from giving it voice.

“In me please!” You begged, loudly, “I want you to finish in me, both of you!”

Your words served to be the last push they needed and you moaned as your insides were flooded with heat. They filled you to the brim, seed dripping hotly from your used holes as they pulled their softening cocks from you and left a milky trail in the hot water.

You didn't peak again while pressed between them, too many sensations left you overstimulated but your cunt throbbed, and you debated reaching down to finish yourself when Sihtric moved you from his lap and settled you against the stone tiles once more. The stones felt cool on your heated flesh and you sighed as the Dane knelt on the bench at your feet and buried his face between your thighs. He lapped at you, ate at your cunt like he was starving for you. Like he hadn't just fucked you full of his seed, cleaning out the mess that both men had left behind.

He was focused on his task, focused on pushing you over into the abyss one last time and soon your legs were shaking and you were whining, breathless and desperate, so close. Two thick fingers slid into your aching cunt and his lips wrapped around your nub and it was over. Your thighs slammed shut around his head as you rode it out against his tongue, mouth open in a soundless scream as you thrashed in his hold. Your fingers clenched tightly in his hair, hard enough that your fingers ached.

Sihtric moaned against your cunt and just let you use him.

Finally you relaxed your legs from their vice grip around Sihtric's ears and you pushed his head away, pleasure giving way and the stimulation became too much. 

“Was that good lady?” Sihtric asked, a cocky grin on his face, his chin wet with the evidence of how much you had enjoyed yourself.

You laughed at his attitude but answered honestly all the same. “That was good, that was very good.”

You are distracted by the sound of splashing water and moaning. You looked over to see Uhtred and Finan locked in a passionate embrace against the opposite wall of the bath. Their hips grinding together, chasing release. They didn't seem to mind the audience, in fact when Uhtred noticed you watching he moaned even louder. 

It was over quickly and they stained each other with seed.

It was beautiful and you hoped that next time you could watch and proper enjoy the sight of your men fucking each other.

It was Osferth who helped you get cleaned up. The perfect gentleman as he ran a soapy cloth over your skin and washed away what remained of your activities. 

It took a long time for the strength to return to your limbs and the first thing you did was cup the baby monk's face between your palms and brought his mouth to yours. He let you control the kiss, the boldness you saw as he had fucked you given way to his more submissive and timid nature. You didn't mind, it was nice to press your tongue into his mouth and explore it leisurely. There was no heat, no lead up to something more.

You didn’t break apart until a cleared throat broke your daze and you saw Sihtric had brought a towel and your clothing which earned the Dane a bright smile that he returned.

Osferth helped you out of the water and dried you off, still the perfect gentleman in face of your nudity and helped you redress. 

You hissed as the rough fabric of your tunic scraped against your nipples, rubbed raw from mouths and the stone tiles.

“Next time we are doing this in a proper bed.”

[myfandompromptsside]

"You can barely make out Osferth’s retreating back in the distance and give a small sigh."

I've been stuck on that sentence for days now. Not that I have a preference but I would know who to chose. 👀

... Except that Aethelstan is getting into my head now. Because of this story. That's not good, is it?

BUT

"Now that you are older, you often feel a certain curiosity about Aethelstan. He was the blood of the King; he would never be a proper match for you with his royal bloodline."

Guess who else has royal blood?

This little cupcake.

I'm avidly waiting for what's next. Too many questions.

Devotion

Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x Reader - Part 1 Summary: You are a Dane living in Rumcofa. After the untimely passing of your parents, you are now the sole supporter of your two younger siblings. Uhtred and his men have taken your family under their wing and you beg Osferth to teach you to use a sword to defend your family, an unusual request for a young woman. Osferth, being unable to deny you anything, agrees and your passion for him grows.   Words: 5.9K

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Death and parent loss, children rearing children, mentions of virginity, mentions of battle, alcohol consumption A/N: At last, I apologize for the delay with this. This story is going to be slightly different than my other, smut heavy fics as it is definitely a SLOWBURN (but it'll be worth the wait, I promise). This first Part sets up the reader and her relationship with Uhtred's men and takes place at the beginning of Season 5. It won't follow every event from the season specifically, I've chosen what I wanted to keep as I went along. Thank you to my incredible beta reader, @arcielee, as always for her expertise. I swear she knows all.

Prologue

“Please, Osferth?” you plead, your voice carrying a tremor of desperation as you stare at him from across the campfire. Your eyes bore into his, seeking something within his big, blue gaze.

Osferth studies your face, a frown forming in between his eyebrows. He lowers his gaze and studies the fire, the crackling flames cast an orange glow upon his face as he contemplates your unusual request. 

The recent wave of Dane raids had left your town vulnerable as the most battle-worthy men were constantly away from home, defending the realm for one lord or another. They were spread too thin and those left behind were exposed and defenseless. You are tired of living in fear of the next raid and determined to do something to protect your home and younger brother and sister. No longer did you want to simply hide and cower from fright. 

“Please,” you whisper, barely daring to breathe. “Teach me how to use a sword. Show me how to fight so I may protect my family.”

Osferth sighs as he watches the flames of the fire. Never had a young woman asked him to teach her how to use a blade before. 

"Very well, my lady," he concedes, though his countenance still seems reluctant. 

"I shall instruct you."

“On your feet, my lady. I know you can do better than this,” Osferth’s soft but firm voice rings out over the practice yard as you struggle to rise from the dirt, having been knocked down yet again.

“You need to be quick and light on your feet, prepared to spring into action at any moment,” Osferth advises yet again, a note of frustration in his voice, and you let out an aggravated huff.

You were trying, you really were. Your right arm aches from the weight of the sword, even though it was smaller and lighter than the weapons the men wielded. Your back and left shoulder throbs from the strain of holding up your heavy wooden shield. When you had initially asked Osferth to teach you to use a sword, you hadn’t quite comprehended the physical toll it would take. When you lay in your bed each night after training, your whole body feels exhausted and sore as if it had been beaten. 

Osferth has been diligent in his instruction but equally tireless. When he first put a sword in your hand, one intended for a man as that was all that was available at the time, he quickly realized you could barely lift it, let alone give it a swing. He compromised by having you use a child’s wooden sword so you could “get the feel of it” before finding you a smaller one of steel that was more manageable for someone of your size. 

But further recognizing that your physical strength still needed substantial improvement before delving into the intricacies of swordplay, he had started your training with a rigorous workout routine. For a few weeks now, he had made you lift buckets of water, carry piles of wood uphill, sprint across the training grounds, and, in time, practice sparring as you were doing now.

Hefting your shield you turn to face Osferth again and assume the defensive position he had taught you. Finan, the Irishman, watches you from the sideline, bemused. At first, he and Sihtric thought Osferth was wasting his time on you. But as they witnessed your determination and subsequent improvement first-hand, they joined you in your workout and occasionally watched you spar with Osferth, calling out advice and encouragement when they could. 

“Wait, Osferth, I have an idea,” Finan says abruptly as Osferth easily knocks you off balance again without even trying. Finan walks over to you, a frown on his bearded face, his dark eyes accessing your shield arm. Suddenly, he reaches out and removes your shield. 

“This is too cumbersome and heavy for you, it’s only servin’ to slow you down,” he says with his familiar Irish lilt. “Your advantage is going to have to be your speed and quickness,” he turns and speaks directly to Osferth. “She won’t be able to catch a swing from a bloody Dane on that shield anyway. It would only break her arm.”

Relieved of the shield, you do feel much lighter, but now exposed to attacks.

Finan looks back at you as he retreats from the training yard. “Grasp the hilt with both hands and let’s see how you do now,” he nods encouragingly.

Following his instruction, you tighten your grip on the sword with newfound enthusiasm and launch an attack on Osferth. Ever the superior swordsman, he catches your first swing on his shield easily, but almost misses the second, not anticipating your speed. You gain confidence as you continue to swing, forcing Osferth to defend himself. Two handed, your swings are much more powerful than when you were only using one and you feel like you have better control. 

Osferth allows your assault to continue for a few more minutes and you quickly realize his strategy a moment too late. Your relentless attack has quickly tired your arms and you almost duck too slowly when he swings back. You dodge his arching blow and jump out of arm's reach. Since you no longer have a shield to block attacks, you have to rely on your quick feet to evade his counterattacks, but you’ve exhausted yourself attacking him first. 

You realize he’s taught you yet another important lesson. After a few more moments exchanging blows and deftly avoiding Osferth’s purposefully slow strikes, he calls an end to your practice session. For the first time, you feel like you have managed to genuinely spar. 

“Much better!” Finan yells from the sidelines, “I can’t wait to watch you properly kick Baby Monk’s arse soon!” His laugh booms across the training square and he gives you a wink before turning and strolling away. You can’t help but chuckle in response and Osferth catches your eye, pressing his lips together in a shy smile. 

“Come on, you two,” Finan shouts over his shoulder as he heads for the town square. “You don’t want to miss the festivities!”

“You did well today, my lady,” Osferth says quietly as you both return your swords and gear to the rack where the training materials are kept. A few townspeople mill about but most were already in the center of town, having begun the celebrations for Blood Month. 

 “Finan is right. I think we found a better technique for you,” he adds.

“I felt really good today,” you agree, “but I know I need a lot more practice.”

“All in good time, my lady, all in good time,” Osferth reassures you with a nod.

A cold breeze sweeps around you, welcoming the arrival of Blood Month, November. In honor of this month, commonfolk make offerings to the gods, typically by sacrificing their animals. You knew Osferth and Finan were on their way into town to meet up with Aethelstan, who has been tasked with slaying his first beast, considered a rite of passage from adolescence to manhood. The truth is though, he is a young man now and has been for some time, even without having to slay a beast to prove so, but only Uhtred refused to see him as such. 

You can feel the town start to stir with the excitement of the festivities. Under Uhtred’s leadership and guidance, Rumcofa prospers and flourishes, serving as a place where both Dane and Saxon can live together in harmony. It was one of the reasons your father had been drawn to Uhtred and had served him faithfully for many years; he thought it was to be a safe place to raise a family.

And it had been until tragedy had struck. Your father had been one of Uhtred’s best warriors and very skilled with a blade. But that didn’t stop him from falling from a poisoned arrow while chasing off raiders with Uhtred’s men near the same time the fever had taken your mother. At one and seven, you had suddenly found yourself as head of the family, responsible for caring for your home and raising your younger brother and sister.

As you trudge up the muddy lane back home, your mind drifts to your tasks ahead before you can join in on the celebrations and the weight of being the head of your family settles back on your shoulders, momentarily forgotten in the physical exertion of your training. 

Deep in thought, your fingers clasp the bronze Thor’s Hammer pendant of your necklace, one of the few material items that remained to you that had previously belonged to your father. You wish he could see you now and hope he would be proud of all that you were learning, of how you were valiantly trying to protect your family.

After their passing, Uhtred had personally come to your door to offer his condolences and so much more. So many questions had lingered since you had been so young. Would Uhtred turn you out of your home? Would he force you into marriage? How could you continue to care for your young siblings?

But you were pleasantly surprised by his soft tone and wide, gentle eyes. The brave face you were trying to maintain in front of him quickly crumbled and he held you as he cried and wiped your tears. He promised that you could remain safely in Rumcofa, under his protection, enabling you to stay in your family home and finish raising your siblings. He did not pressure you into marrying, moreover stating that any marriage would need his approval and that he would not allow just any man to marry you. 

The following few years had not always been easy but the small community had come together to help you in times of need and you could never repay them for their generosity. Your father had served with Sihtric, Finan, and Osferth and your families had been relatively close before their untimely deaths. You were overwhelmed with how quickly they took you under their wing.

It was because of Osferth that you now made a living as the local medicine woman. You had to admit though, the only reason you had shown curiosity in the art of healing was because of your girlhood crush on Osferth. It was a perfect excuse to spend more time with him. Although Osferth was only a few years older than you, at that time you were too young for him to give you any notice; if he was aware of your crush on him, he hid it well. 

After badgering him consistently when you were younger, he had taught you all he knew about the ways of healing and medicine. Those early days were filled with diligent study and hands-on practice, learning the delicate arts of setting bones, soothing fevers, and brewing potent remedies. 

Luckily, Rumcofa was in need of a healer and you remained consistently occupied, whether from fixing the local childrens’ playground mishaps or by patching up Uhtred’s men after skirmishes and you had come to enjoy your job and the value that you were able to provide to the townspeople. Osferth was always the first to praise your growing expertise and efficiency, which had now surpassed his own. Having known him since you were a young girl, you could see the look of pride on his face whenever you taught him something new.  Osferth’s mentorship had meant everything to you, and you always felt like you would be indebted to him for giving you a way to sustain your livelihood and carving out a valuable place for you in society. 

Sihtric and Finan had also become like surrogate uncles. Because of his growing family, Sihtric’s wife, Sigdeflaed, had plenty of clothes her children would outgrow and offer it to you as a hand-me-down for your growing siblings. And Finan’s wife, Ingrith, would often invite your small family over for dinner and she always packed leftovers to take home. But your familiarity with all three men was not just because they had served with your father, but also because of Aethelstan…

When you had been one and three, Uhtred had returned to Rumcofa after peacefully ensuring the succession of the Mercian throne with an extra person in tow; Aethelstan, the first trueborn son of the king and the child Uhtred had promised to raise as his own. Being more similar in age to this young newcomer, who was only two years younger, you had become Aethelstan’s first friend.  

At first, Aethelstan was a solemn boy, very shy and quiet. But under Uhtred’s care, you had witnessed his transformation into the tall, confident young man he was now, far surpassing your own height and strength. Uhtred had raised him to be a warrior and a warrior he was. 

But despite his prowess with a blade and upbringing in a predominantly male environment, Aethelstan remained incredibly tender-hearted and sweet. He had been your most steadfast companion after the passing of your parents. He had offered you comfort and a shoulder to cry on when the burden of raising your siblings and caring for your household began to take its toll. Despite being younger than you, he often offered advice and wisdom beyond his years. You would never be able to tell him how much you valued his support and friendship. 

You loved Finan’s booming laugh and Sihtric’s calm, quiet steadiness. During any downtime when Uhtred and his men were home, you’d always find Osferth huddled in a corner somewhere, reading The Holy Book. Although you had been raised a Dane, you’d often ask him to read you a few verses; his soft, warm voice was like a soothing song as he read to you and you enjoyed it immensely. He tolerated your endless questions about the intricacies of The Holy Book and you were always fascinated by his interpretation. He never seemed to tire of your boundless curiosity. 

Your thoughts drift to Aethelstan and his coming of age. You had been a woman grown for years now and you were starting to feel yourself longing for companionship; basically becoming a single mother of sorts was as lonely as it was tireless. Now at the age of twenty, most young women were married and had young families of their own. Although you were proud of all that you had accomplished at a young age, maintaining a household and an income and being able to provide for your siblings, you were more often than not wishing for a suitable spouse, someone who was willing to share your burden with small children in tow. 

You had your eye set on someone; you had for a long time. In your heart, you desire for your friendship with Osferth to evolve into something deeper, something more profound and meaningful, with possibilities for a future life together considering your siblings simply adored him as they adored all of Uhtred’s men.

You sigh as your thoughts settle on Osferth. That was part of the reason why you had also chosen him to help you with your sword training.  He was an excellent swordsman and teacher, and he had never told you “no” before, you knew he would agree to help you. But, deep in your heart, you had also hoped he would start to see the woman you had become rather than forever remain anchored to the girl he used to know.

Recently, unrest has been rippling through the countryside. Twice your home has been robbed by raiders; you and your siblings were safe and tucked away in your hiding place as the Danes tore through your meager belongings. But as the sole guardian and protector of your household, you were determined to do whatever it took to ensure their safety in these tumultuous times; the men were often gone, chasing these raiders away or offering their swords to one lord or another. You no longer wanted to be a helpless damsel in distress. Learning to protect your home was your top priority and you would do whatever Osferth said to see it done. 

You push open the creaking door to your modest home and are immediately accosted by your little sister, Liv, who is only seven years old. She bounds up to you on little feet, almost trembling with enthusiasm, proud to show you the bracelet she had crafted earlier that day. Her euphoria is infectious as she inquires as to when she would be allowed to join in the celebrations that evening. You give her a reassuring smile and tell her that after dinner you’ll all be able to join in, but she must help with preparing dinner first. 

The rhythmic clatter of knives against wooden cutting boards forms a comforting backdrop as you both chop vegetables for the evening stew. Your brother, Erik, a boy of eleven, wanders in a short while later as the stew simmers merrily over the fire in the hearth, proudly holding up a rabbit for you to add. Although so young, you knew he already felt the pressure to help you provide for the family and he was quite skilled as a trapper; your family rarely went without meat on the table. 

After an usually good meal shared with your siblings, you can hear the growing clamor from outside. Making sure your siblings are bundled from the chilly air, you grasp your little sister’s hand so she doesn’t get trampled by the crowd as your brother flies out of the house in pursuit of a friend he sees in the distance. 

“Be sure to be home by nightfall!” you call after him and he gives you a small wave, acknowledging that he has heard you.

You arrive into town at the same time as Finan and Uhtred. Most of the townsfolk have already had a considerable amount of ale, their raucous laughter fills the air and they wave their torches around in jubilation. Uhtred makes his way to the raised platform in the middle of the muddy square.

“Aethelstan!” he calls. “Why have you left your post?”

“His first hunt, Lord,” Osferth answers at first.

“It’s good luck for Blood Month, Uhtred,” Aethelstan adds.

Uhtred stands across from Aethelstan and considers him.

“You think you’re ready to slaughter a beast?” he asks. 

Aethelstan smirks. “You know I am.” 

You see the reluctance in Uhtred’s countenance but you know he can no longer delay this moment.

“Aethelstan says he is ready,” Uhtred says, turning to the crowd. “What do you say?” He poses the questions to the townsfolk and is immediately met by cheers.

“For Blood Month!” Uhtred exclaims, raising his hands in celebration to which Aethelstan imitates as shouts go up in the square, the men all laugh exuberantly. 

“Be careful,” Uhtred cautions seriously amidst the noise but you can still make out his words to Aethelstan. “The animal will fight to the death.” He cannot help the paternal energy that radiates through him at this moment. 

In the midst of the excitement, you spot Astrid in the crowd, who often watches Liv for you when you are busy working. A widow now with three grown sons, Astrid enjoys feeling needed again and is often responsible for watching over the younger children of the town when their parents are otherwise occupied.  

Liv runs up to her and hugs her around the middle. “You deserve a break too, dear,” Astrid smiles at you. “Let me take Liv for the evening. We will have lots of fun together!” She adds as Liv jumps up and down on the balls of her feet. She simply adores Astrid. You nod, relenting and Astrid holds Liv’s hand as she leads her through the crowd, towards where the other young children are playing.

You watch her go, your heart content to see her so happy and carefree. It was your ultimate wish that she remain a child for as long as possible; to not feel burdened to provide for the family. You were fortunate you had someone as trustworthy and reliable to watch over her when you couldn’t. 

“Let’s go kill the swine!” Sihtric exclaims, hefting his torch to chants of “Blood Month! Blood Month! Blood Month!” from the excitable crowd. 

When you turn back around, you see Osferth through the throng, yelling and cheering with the rest of the townsfolk as Sihtric starts to lead the hunting party. As the crowd disperses and the men start to head in the direction of the woods to hunt the boar, you tug on Aethelstan’s sleeve to get his attention.

“Hey,” he looks down and greets you warmly, smiling, but you can tell his thoughts are elsewhere, fire in his dark eyes. 

“Good luck on your hunt,” you say as you walk alongside him, smiling back. “Don’t let that boar gore you, I don’t want to be stitching you up later,” you tease playfully.

He rolls his eyes, radiating confidence as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I’ll give you first pick of the meat when I’ve killed it,” he says, squeezing your arm lightly. Your breath hitches a little, mainly because it's your swore sword arm but you wonder if perhaps he could feel your growing muscle underneath. You hadn’t told him of your practice with Osferth and you aren’t sure if any of the men had bothered mentioning it to him. Uhtred’s constant demands of his time and attention had kept him so busy, you hadn’t had the opportunity to share your sword training with him yet.

“Then I happily await your return,” you smile genuinely and give him a light shove off into the woods as Finan spots the two of you and, in his typical boisterous manner, exclaims. “There’ll be plenty of time for kissing girls later, Aethelstan! Now come on!” 

You shake your head at Finan and smile, which he returns before following the rest of the men into the fog of the forest. You can barely make out Osferth’s retreating back in the distance and give a small sigh. You feel oddly protective and possessive of these men. Even though Finan and Sihtric are married and have families of their own, you knew that some piece of your heart would always belong to these strong, dependable men who had stepped in to fill the void left by your father's absence.

You decide to wait in the pub, knowing that will be their first stop when they return from their hunt to celebrate. All of the townsfolk are out tonight and the bustling pub is warm and welcoming, filled with hearty laughter and conversation. Ingrith offers you the seat next to her and you settle at a wooden table, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow upon the well-worn, ale-stained surface.

The two of you engage in lively conversation, swapping stories and laughter over tankards of ale that seem to flow endlessly. You find yourself sipping more freely than usual, the ale making you feel more lighthearted and comfortable as you relax for the first time in a long while.

A short time later and much earlier than expected, you hear deep muffled voices coming from outside and you exchange a look of concern with Ingrith as hunting the boar should have taken longer than this. The pub door swings open, heralding the arrival of the men as raucous laughter and jeering fills the pub. 

Your fears are abated slightly as all seems well until you spot Aethelstan. He looks a little worse for wear, his clothes are muddy and there are several long scratches on his face. You feel a surge of concern as the men begin sharing the story of Aethelstan's unexpected ordeal in the woods, the sudden attack by three unknown men. Your stomach drops as you hear of the danger, feeling as though you are not nearly prepared enough in your training to protect your family. 

But despite the blood and disheveled appearance, Aethelstan seems exhilarated from his fight, having killed two out of the three of his assailants. His eyes gleam with a sense of pride and adrenaline and he wears the bloodstains on his clothes like a badge of honor. You watch as all of the men pound their chests and raise their tankards of ale, shouting praises for Aethelstan’s bravery. To them, this is a symbolic moment that marks his transition into manhood. The pub erupts with cheers, and you can't help but share in their pride, even as a sense of worry continues to gnaw in the back of your mind.

Once the crowd settles a bit, you make your way over to him.

“Aethelstan, are you alright?” you say with a little alarm. You know your friend well and you think the adrenaline is the only thing keeping him from going into shock right now.  

“Might have a few scratches for you to look at later, but I’m fine,” he shouts back over the noise of the crowd, seeming delighted to see that you had waited for his return. He continues to absorb the praise of the townsfolk as you worriedly stare up at him. Sensing your gaze, he finally looks down at you and meets your eyes.

“I promise I’m fine,” he says with a smug grin and nonchalant shrug to reassure you, at least on the surface, that he's physically alright. You can't help but manage a small smile in response. The noise and commotion of the celebration make it difficult to engage in a serious conversation about the attack at the moment, but you make a silent promise to revisit the topic when things quiet down.

His wide smile is infectious as Aethelstan raises his tankard and toasts with you, just as Finan’s voice booms from above. He's clearly in high spirits as he stands on the table, commanding the room's attention. He sweeps his arms wide in a grand gesture. 

“LADIES OF RUMCOFA! WE HAVE A NEW MAN FOR YOU ALL TO ENJOY THIS EVENING!” Finan shouts joyfully above the crowd. 

Aethelstan’s face turns beet red and you feel your cheeks flush with secondhand embarrassment. You decide it’s your time to leave the celebration since Finan’s antics have taken a rather suggestive tone; and you'd rather not stick around to witness the more explicit details of his celebration for Aethelstan becoming a man.

You shout into Aethelstan’s ear as Finan starts asking for volunteers, “And now I shall take my leave,” you chuckle in amusement at his predicament. “Good luck!”

Aethelstan watches you go, looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole as Finan continues his spirited matchmaking efforts, identifying a seemingly willing participant in the enthusiastic crowd. 

You catch Osferth’s eye as you pass, his expression is a mixture of smug satisfaction and amusement. His eyes seem to dance with mirth as he observes the festivities and Aethelstan's evident uneasiness. It's clear that he finds the situation highly entertaining, and a playful smile graces his lips as he acknowledges your presence, nodding at you as you make your way out the door. 

Finally, once out of the alehouse, the cold night air is welcoming on your face and you gulp a few crisp lungfuls, allowing it to steady your thoughts. Aethelstan is younger than you, yet he is about to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh before you do. You can’t help but feel a small pang in your chest at the absurdity of this thought as you make your way home. Was it loneliness that made you wish for someone to share your bed with too? 

As you make your way home through the dusky evening, you pause at Astrid's house to collect your sister. In the corner of the room, you find her peacefully asleep, nestled amidst soft blankets, clearly worn out from the earlier festivities. You thank Astrid for watching her as you wake Liv, who groggily walks the rest of the way home as if she’s had too much ale to drink too but you know she is just tired. 

Upon arriving home, you're greeted by Erik at the hearth, tending to the fire. The flickering flames cast a cozy glow throughout the room, instantly dispelling the chill that lingers in the night air. You let out a sigh as you undo all your layers, welcoming the warmth from the fire. You ruffle his hair, a silent expression of gratitude for heeding your advice and returning home at a reasonable hour. 

You lay your sister in the small bed made up at the foot of your straw mattress and your brother climbs in next to her, you can tell from the look on his face that he’s had a full day of excitement too. You wash your face off in the basin and then get yourself ready for bed, stoking the fire and putting on your simple woolen shift that you sleep in. You're about to get into bed yourself when there’s a small knock at the door.

Immediately, your heart jumps into your throat as you and your brother exchange a fearful glance, but next a familiar voice whispers out. “It’s me!”

You sigh with relief and race to open the door, stepping back to let Aethelstan inside. Erik jumps out of bed and races forth to wrap his skinny arms around Aethelstan in a bear hug which he eagerly returns. Your siblings love him like an older brother. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a shocked whisper as the voice in your head wonders why he isn’t intimately wrapped around some other woman right now. 

“I escaped,” Aethelstan whispers back and makes a pointed glance down at your brother as he doesn’t elaborate. Erik, oblivious, excitedly whispers, “Aethelstan! Are you going to stay here tonight?” as he turns his big brown eyes on you, pleading for your permission.

Aethelstan looks abashed but then says to your brother. “As long as your sister allows me,” and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows heavily, eyes flicking back up to meet your gaze. 

You give a sigh as your brother immediately starts to plead but you’re tired and you don’t want to argue. 

“I was hoping you could clean these scratches for me too,” Aethelstan reminds you gently. You consider him for a moment and then nod; he is right, his wounds need to be cleaned before bed. 

“Yes, he can stay,” you pretend to be exasperated as you turn to your brother. “Now go fetch me my supplies so I can clean him up before bed.” Erik races excitedly to get the small wooden bowl and poultice that you use to clean wounds. You pull up a chair in front of the fire, indicating Aethelstan should sit.

The truth is, Aethelstan is a fairly frequent visitor to your house. As children, you often shared a bed and as you grew older, you found yourself keeping the same habit from time to time, especially once your parents had passed. You slept the best when he was here with you; finally feeling like you had a protector to watch over you. Further, he had never tried to do anything “more” with you. You felt completely safe with him and comforted by his presence. 

Your brother, who had somehow heard of Aethelstan’s attack in the woods, bombards him with questions as you clean his scratches. You listen to his story intently, worried that nobody seems to know who these men belong to or why they attacked Aethelstan specifically. You meet his gaze, unable to conceal the worry and fear you feel and a sense of foreboding.

Once finished cleaning him up, you snap your fingers at your brother to indicate he should get back into bed and he hastens to obey.

“Enough storytelling for one day,” you say easily, not wanting your brother to know your alarm. “Time for bed.”

You settle into your own bed as Aethelstan removes his layers for sleep as well. He props his sword next to the nightstand and slides down into bed with you. You both wait a few minutes, just simply staring at each other, knowing your brother will be out cold soon and then you can talk freely.

The light of the dying fire glows orange on Aethelstan’s tired face. You think the adrenaline is finally leaving him and can see his exhaustion in the bags of his eyes and the tired way he blinks.

At long last, when you hear deep breathing at the foot of the bed, you whisper with childlike curiosity. “So? Did you do it?” 

Aethelstan takes a slow deep breath and shakes his head as he reaches out and smoothes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I couldn’t, the guys think I’ve gone off with some girl but I snuck off when she wasn’t looking,” the corner of his mouth turns up at his small feat. 

“You know you won’t be able to evade this forever,” you say. “Maybe you should just do it so Finan can stop shouting from the rooftops that you’re still a virgin,” you counsel him as if you, too, aren’t still a virgin.

Aethelstan stares at you for a beat and then lowers his gaze, blinking slowly. You know he’ll soon be fast asleep too. “Maybe, yeah,” he breathes before his eyes shut completely. Within a few minutes, he’s snoring gently.

You watch him sleep, feeling suddenly alert. You didn’t understand the big deal the men always made about virginity and you feel sorry for Aethelstan for constantly being their target. He was your friend and you wish you could help him. This wasn’t the first time he found a way out of sleeping with a woman.

You continue to watch him, admiring the length of his eyelashes as he sleeps and your mind wanders. Osferth’s joyous face flicks across your vision. If you didn’t already intend to give your virginity to someone else, you think you would have been ok with giving yours to Aethelstan, you muse. He was your first kiss, after all, not that it should really count. You had both been curious as children, having sneakily watched Sihtric and his wife once; you couldn’t stop fixating on the way they seemed to consume each other with their kisses. When things progressed, Aethelstan was sure he was hurting her by the sounds she was making. You remember clapping a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at the horrified look in his eyes. 

Afterwards, you had decided to practice with each other out of natural curiosity. You smile slightly at the memory as you roll over, seeing the moonlight stream through your curtained window. Now that you are older, you often feel a certain curiosity about Aethelstan. He was the blood of the King; he would never be a proper match for you with his royal bloodline. But he has grown into a fine, handsome man, sweet, kind and gentle. Similar to someone else you consistently had less than honorable thoughts about…

But something nags at you and you can't really explain it. Even if you did offer yourself to Aethelstan, you didn’t think he would accept you and you didn’t know why. He had never shown any inclination towards women that you knew of. But he is one of your dearest friends and you love him regardless of his nature. 

You breathe a deep sigh and close your eyes, waiting for sleep while contemplating the ridiculous habits of men. 

A/N: Did I get a little lost in Aethelstan's dark eyes in this part? Yes, yes I did. But more Osferth to come, I promise.

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @cyeco13 @aemondsscar @sylas-the-grim @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @fan-goddess @pandemonium105 @megatardisbaby, @myfandomprompts

!!If you would no longer like to be tagged, please let me know and I will remove you!!

[jacevelaryonswife]

The Last Kingdom Masterlist

After Dark | Finan, Osferth and Sihtric x fem!stripper reader (+18)

Thoughts about the new professor | Finan x fem!reader

I’m feel alive when I’m by your side | Osferth x fem!reader

The sweet taste of sin | Osferth x fem!reader (+18)

The sweet taste of depravation | Osferth x fem!reader (+18)

Do you want me tonight? | Osferth x fem!reader (+18)

[demigoddessqueens]

KINKTOBER 2024 - demon sex

MDNI, SMUT, NSFW

a/n - got into Last Kingdom, stayed for the monk, also here on ao3

Pairing: Osferth x succubus!reader

Word count: 0.7k

*****************************

As different as his life turned out, from priest to mercenary, Osferth still finds himself seeking refuge in old habits. Fortunately for you, it called to you like blood in the water.

The human still said his prayers before every night, despite the blood on his hands. You sensed that it brought him comfort in this brutal word, although your ideas of “comfort” to help him varied of the carnal ones.

Appearing as an enticing figure to the young man, you cooed his name as you kissed past his protests.

”I-I’ve heard of your kind before…a-a succubus…”

That dark laugh from you did little to soothe his unease. He said with such fear yet almost sounded enticed.

“D-demon, what would you want from me?”

You fondled his hair before pressing up further against him. Osferth swallows hard as he sees the fangs in your smile. A clawed hand grazes along the free skin of his neck before you pull him into a deep kiss. Thankfully this was only a dream as the monk let his moans ring out.

“Something only mortals like you can provide, and from hearing your pleas to your god, I would oblige to it.”

Your body is pressed tightly against his, and you draw him into a slow, deep kiss again. The stiff demeanor tries to prevail at first, but gradually, his lips move along with yours as his tongue slides into your mouth with a low needy moan.

“If I give you want you want, monster, but ngh—if I do, will you stop tormenting my thoughts?”

You cup a hand between his legs as he clenches his eyes shut.

“Only if you truly desire that, human.”

You work open his robes and tug the fabric down from his legs, freeing the now rock-hard manhood within. He's…prominent. Soft hairs lead down from his stomach to what your mouth waters at. While the rest matches his body, the tip is such a pink color it matches the blush on his cheeks.

Practically salivating at the sight, you utter a pleased little moan as you lower yourself between his legs until you can place a deep, lavish kiss to the crown of his cock. Feeling greedy, you begin to lap and suck more along the column of his cock. Osferth writhed and whined beneath your touch, struggling not to cave to the carnal pleasures he denied his body.

Why was he trying to deny himself? Hypocritical as that was. He’s been to brothels before with the others, yes! But he was a monk before. It was another to lie with another but a demon he’s heard countless horrors about?

Once you’ve had your fill, you gradually sink down onto his cock, moaning happily as it fills you inch by inch. You feel the tightened grip on your body, and see the way his eyes are wide in arousal. The way he bites at his lip to keep from crying out only spurs you on to get a reaction from him.

By the time you've taken him to the hilt, you're panting softly with you head tilted back as your body thrashes for him. You can't recall the last time you felt so perfectly full from a mortal and so absolutely satisfied.

The full length of his manhood swells and throbs in the throes of his orgasm. Seeing your taut body thrust upon him, Osferth took advantage of your brief vulnerability to flip you beneath him. Wrists caught above your head, you were the tiniest amuse at his forwardness.

”Don’t t-test me demon. I—ungh—mean it—ahh, hells you feel amazing!”

Your laugh was a mix of faux mocking as it blended with his gasps of overstimulation. He thrusted into you with more fervor but you could see those sharpened cheekbones contort in pleasure as the overstimulation got to him.

“We shall see, little monk.”

Osferth awakes in a cold sweat as he gulps down heaves of air to steady himself. There’s a throbbing between his legs and his cloudy mind swims with an image of a face he’s seen before. Looking between himself and the others sleeping, Osferth reaches down.

His cock is already slick from the obscure dream he had so it’s no surprise he’s threatening to burst at any moment into his hand. With one last whimper, the wet mess splays over his hand as the arousal leaves his body.

Before sleep claims him, Osferth could have sworn he saw another human shadow slink away from their camp.

[humanpurposes]

PSA: i changed the title from Little Novice -> From Eden

From Eden, part i, Osferth

Danes attack Wincombe Abbey and a young novice crosses paths with a group of mercenaries and their Baby Monk // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Osferth x OFC

Warnings: bit of violence and death, OC is a novice but isn't too keen on Christianity, suggestive themes if you squint, there will eventually be smut

Words: 4000

A/n: not me starting another series oops but i can't resist the baby monk

Today saw the first snowfall of the year. A few flakes landed on Bridget’s sleeves as she sauntered past the hard and frosted soil of the vegetable garden, past the pigsty and towards the stream that circled Wincombe Abbey. She swung an empty pitcher back and forth as she hummed the least melancholy hymn she could think of.

They had guests currently. Lady Aethelflaed of Mercia had arrived two days ago, bringing with her a group of guards who were camping at outside the Abbey. Bridget had been tempted to walk past the men on her errand, but the Abbess was already in a foul mood and she didn’t fancy testing her temper. Not unless it was for something interesting.

She had spent her morning as she always did. Prayers first. Her knees were never not bruised by the flagstone floor of the chapel, but with winter settling in they were numb too. Then she saw to the goats and the pigs. Then she helped in the kitchen. Finally, she got to eat in the hall with her Sisters. Bread with some winter preserves and slices of cured ham.

When she got to the stream, she placed the pitcher by her feet. With a final glance over her shoulder to the solitary stone building of the Abbey, she hopped across the water on a sparse path of rocks and made for the line of trees ahead of her.

The woods were the only place she felt like a living person and not simply a novice in a habit.

Bridget couldn’t stand how quiet life the Abbey could be. The Abbess, a stern but fair woman, told her it was because she was restless and unappreciative, but perhaps she was simply not well suited to mindfulness and prayer. Sometimes she could find things to laugh about with the younger girls, but then the Abbess would scold her for her “impiety”.

Once she was amongst the trees she tugged at her habit. In the summer she might take it off, but it offered some extra warmth in the colder months.

Her preferred weapon was where she left it, leaning against the trunk of a young oak tree. A broken bit of a branch, small enough for her to wield and heavy enough to hit against the trees.

She twirled it through her hands, just as her brother used to show her. From the few memories she had, she remembered he could do all sorts of impressive tricks with his sword. He could spin it and slice it through the air in controlled and precise movements.

It had been a decade since she had seen her brother, but she tried to keep his teachings with her, swinging branches at tree trunks, imagining she was a great warrior, like David slaying Goliath. Technically David had slayed Goliath with a rock and a sling, a detail the Abbess insisted was important. Bridget could invent a thousand reasons why, but she didn’t care to.

Especially when she was younger, she liked to imagine herself as a warrior when she was tasked with cutting wood or slaughtering and butchering the pigs. They were both hard work, but she was always willing to do it, if only to have an excuse to be destructive for once. She found it could be quite cathartic.

After a particularly harsh blow against a tree that cracked the branch almost in two, she froze. She heard horses. She hoped they would move on, but she made out a few figures in the distance, figures who appeared to have spotted her and were moving closer.

She dropped the branch and fixed her habit, to find a lock of her hair hovering over her forehead. She tucked it back in as the faces of the riders came into view.

There were five who rode at the front, four men and a woman with pale, blonde hair and strange markings on her face. A larger group, no more than twenty, hung back a little.

“A nun,” one of the men called. He rode in front of the group, their leader, she supposed.

“There we are then, you’ll feel right at home, Baby Monk,” another said. He had a gruff voice and an Irish accent. One of the other men laughed. The woman didn’t react at all.

“Is the Abbey nearby?” The leader asked.

Bridget frowned. He had an accent she could not place. “You are Danish?” She looked amongst the rest of their group, and they each seemed to find her accusation amusing.

“What is my religion to you, girl?”

“I would like to know if you would seek to do us harm.”

He raised a brow. “And you believe the best measure of a man to be the gods he follows?”

“I believe the best measure of a man is his intentions,” she said, meeting his eye and determined to keep her expression stoic.

But apparently he was pleased with her response. “You and I are similar in this respect,” he said, loosening the grip of his reins. “We seek the Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Would you seek to do her harm?”

“Only the good kind,” the Irishman mumbled with a smirk.

The leader rolled his eyes. “She and I are friends. I have come to offer her my protection.”

Bridget looked into the eyes of each of their group, the leader, the Irishman, the one who from his hair also looked to be a Dane, and the younger man riding at the back of the group. The woman had an unsettling gaze, she was the only one Bridget felt she felt compelled to look away from. The Abbess would call the markings on her face the markings of a heathen.

“There is a bridge over the stream,” she said, pointing through the trees. “Cross there. There will be room for your horses in the stables.”

She watched the men move away, each of them offering thankful smiles. She concealed her own, and headed back the way she came, across the stream and to the abbey with the empty pitcher.

Lady Aethelflaed welcomed them warmly and named their leader as Lord Uhtred. After it was agreed that they were decidedly not Danes (not the kind who would attack an Abbey anyhow), they settled in the hall, where Bridget and the nuns brought them bowls of stew and bread.

She expected them to eat like the Mercian guards, wolfing down bread and stew like they hadn’t seen food in days, but Lord Uhtred and his men thanked her graciously as she placed bowls on the table and went round to ladle out more stew for them.

Until she came to the man sitting at the end of the table, beside Lady Aethelflaed. He was the youngest of the group, with wide blue eyes and a sharp jaw. He kept to himself, slightly hunched over his stew.

She was rather fascinated by his robes and the small silver cross around his neck. If he had a slightly worse haircut he would look like a monk. But that was ridiculous, why would a monk be travelling with a group of mercenaries?

She approached him and waited for him to notice her. He looked up at her a smiled vaguely.

She indicated to the pot she was carrying.

“Please,” he muttered, holding out his bowl.

She dished a few spoonfuls for him and he smiled again, a little wider this time. She smiled back.

She wondered where he might be from, why he served a Dane if he wore a cross, how far their group had travelled and how many tales they might have.

“May I ask your name?” He asked.

She had been so distracted trying to think of something to say that his question took her by surprise.

“Oh… Bridget,” she said. “And you?”

“I am Osferth,” he said. He was very softly spoken, she thought. There was something so gentle and subdued about him.

“Are you a monk, Osferth?” She asked.

He glanced down at the cross hanging from his neck. “I was, I left my order to serve Lord Uhtred.”

“And now you are, what, a mercenary?”

Osferth chuckled to himself and shook his head lightly. “I am not much of a fighter just yet.”

“But you have a sword, and your friends are warriors.”

“I am still learning. In the meantime I can only practice and pray to God for courage and strength.”

She felt a light feeling in her chest she was sure she hadn’t felt in years. That’s what she prayed for too, even when the nuns told her she should be praying for patience and forgiveness.

“How did you—”

“Bridget.” The Abbess called, glaring at her from across the table.

Bridget nodded her head to Osferth, a farewell, she supposed, and headed back to the kitchen. One of the girls followed behind her, with a now empty pitcher of ale.

“The Irishman is handsome,” Bridget whispered into her ear once they were through the doors.

The other girl’s mouth fell open.

“What? Surely it is not a sin to look?”

The next morning, the Abbess ensured Bridget stayed in the kitchen. “So you might not be so easily distracted,” she warned, leaving her to peel and slice an endless amount of vegetables.

The Abbess seemed rather distressed at hosting Lord Uhtred and his men. “Ravenous permanently,” she grumbled, marching in through the kitchen with the remains of their breakfast. “They are eating into our winter stores.”

“So why let them stay?” Bridget muttered, dragging the edge of her knife over the skin of a few carrots.

“Because it is our place to show kindness,” the Abbess insisted through her teeth. She emptied the plate into a bucket by Bridget’s feet. “Take that out to the pigs.”

Bridget made no verbal protest. She placed the knife down and left through a small door that led out to the side of the Abbey, just as she had done the previous day. The skin of her cheeks stung when it met the icy morning air. The snow was heavier today. She blinked a few flakes out of her eyes and marched quickly towards the pigsty.

She made sure to scratch them behind the ears, poor things, left out in the cold.

She made her way around the building, to the front doors of the Abbey, and blinked.

And blinked again.

No, there was defineately an army of Danes lined up on the other side of the bridge.

“Good morning, nun!” One cried from atop a grey horse.

“Who are you?” Bridget demanded, but her voice came out a little more broken than intended.

The man chuckled and nodded to the bridge.

They had three hostages, each with a knife being held to their throats.

But with the order from their leader, the first hostage’s throat was sliced open, his body carelessly left to fall to the floor.

Bridget couldn’t bring herself to scream and choked out a broken sort of gasp.

They made no demands, made no moves towards her, and there was no indication they intended to kill the other two hostages. Not yet.

She slowly stalked towards the doors, unable to keep her eyes away from the danger.

“We will wait!” The man on the horse called, “for Aethelflaed!”

She ran to the kitchen first.

“To the hall!” She cried, moving to shut the windows.

The others all stared at her for a moment.

“Now!”

“What is the meaning of this?” The Abbess asked, bolting the door to the gardens as the others fled the kitchen.

“Danes,” Bridget breathed. She hadn’t realised her lack of breath or the restless feeling creeping under her skin.

The Abbess’s skin turned pale. She placed her hand on Bridget’s shoulder and ushered her towards the hall.

The nuns and novices had raised alarm amongst the men. Half of them were already reaching for their weapons.

Bridget and the Abbess slammed the doors of the hall with an ominous thud.

“What is it?” Lord Uhtred demanded.

“Danes. Outside.”

Every man was on his feet in an instant, and the sound of unsheathed swords rang through the hall.

“How many Danes?” The Irishman asked.

Bridget faltered. She hadn’t thought to count them. “More than twenty. Less than fifty.”

A few men moved towards the doors and the windows, but Lord Uhtred ordered them to hold for the time being.

He turned to Bridget. “Do you know what they want?”

“He asked for Lady Aethelflaed.”

“But they may not know we are here,” he said to his men.

“They know someone is here,” Osferth’s voice came. He was still sat at the table and had not drawn his sword.

“But they have hostages,” Bridget said. “They killed one man and they have two more.”

“We remain inside, and we remain silent,” Uhtred ordered, coming towards Bridget and the Abbess. “They must believe you are unprotected,” he said.

He looked between them for a moment, and turned back to Bridget. “Would you speak with them?”

Her heart must have stopped for a moment. “What?”

“We cannot save the hostages, but you can save the lives of the men and women here.”

“And Aethelflaed,” Osferth added.

“You must deny she is here; convince them you have nothing to offer.”

Her restlessness was starting to feel like fear, but she understood Lord Uhtred’s plan, and she could not say why, but she was inclined to trust him.

Until the Abbess interjected. “No!”

Bridget’s heart sank a little. “Abbess, I can do it—”

“No, child, this is my house. This will be my responsibility.” She turned to Lord Uhtred. “I will do it.”

Bridget followed Uhtred and some of the other men into the entrance hall. She stood by one of the windows, out of sight of the Danes, occasionally stealing glances of the Abbess as she stepped out to attempt a negotiation.

“We know him,” a voice muttered beside her. She looked up to see Osferth’s jaw hovering over her. “His name is Haesten.”

The Abbess made her plea for mercy.

In turn, a second man had his throat slit.

“Deny her presence again and a third man dies. And I will burn down your nunnery, and everyone in it.”

Bridget placed her hand on her throat. She could feel her heart pulsing.

A hand gently came onto her shoulder, but Osferth said nothing. His hands were larger than she realised. It wasn’t exactly calming, but she liked it.

True to the words of the Dane, the third man was slain, and when the Abbess reached for an axe she was met with a spear to her chest.

Bridget flinched into Osferth’s chest, keeping her hands over her eyes.

“Aethelflaed!” Haesten cried. “How many more men and women must die to save your bony arse?”

“To the hall,” Osferth said, taking one of her hands in his.

When she glanced once more out the window, Haesten and his men were moving past the bodies of the hostages and the Abbess, towards the doors.

Bridget, Osferth and Aethelflaed gathered the nuns and novices to the back of the hall, while Uhtred and his men lined up behind the doors with shields, spears and swords.

“Will you not fight?” Bridget asked Osferth.

“I told you, I am not much of a warrior,” he said solemnly, as he and Lady Aethelflaed positioned themselves before the others.

Bridget frowned, but tried to distract herself by whispering assurances to some of the younger girls.

When the doors finally burst open she felt utterly helpless. The fighting was kept by the doors and the entrance hall, while Osferth and Lady Aethelflaed watched with their swords drawn.

And when two of the Danes broke through the line protecting the door, they moved together. Lady Aethelflaed fought better than the monk, she thought.

She watched as a third man fought through, overwhelming Osferth while Aethelflaed was still preoccupied.

Bridget couldn’t stop herself. She darted towards the table and grabbed a knife. She supposed the man could have easily turned to her and lodged his axe in her chest, but he didn’t get a chance to even look at her before she rammed the knife into his neck, sending a spray of blood through the air.

The rest of the room was a haze. Something warm and wet landed on and dripped down her cheek.

Suddenly she felt two hands against her shoulders. She blinked.

Osferth’s blue eyes were glaring at her. “That was foolish,” he said.

Three men lay dead on the floor. Swords continued to clash in the entrance hall but Haesten and his men were retreating.

Osferth and Aethelflaed moved out to join Uhtred, while some of the nuns came to wipe the blood from Bridget’s face.

She told them of the Danes and the Abbess’ death. Some of the girls cried, some prayed. She came to clutch her own cross around her neck. But her hands would not stop shaking and her heart would not rest.

She killed a man. Really, it hadn’t been much harder than slaughtering a pig, but at least it felt a little more justified.

If the Abbess were not dead, she would have screamed at her, told her she was ungodly, no better than a cold-blooded murderer, or any of the Danes who ravaged villages and stole from innocent Mercians.

They stayed huddled in the hall until dusk, when Lord Uhtred seemed to finally come to a resolution.

The woman with the markings on her face, Skade, was a seer, and Haesten agreed to take her in Aethelflaed’s place.

Bridget watched the exchange from the doors to the main hall, and a shiver slipped down her spine when Skade turned to Uhtred with a dark look in her eyes.

“You are cursed once more, Uhtred of Bebbanburg.”

Bridget had hardly slept that night. She lay eyes closed, still in her robes and the white headscarf she wore under her habit, listening to the gentle snores of the girls in the beds around her and aware of the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

The moment she heard the first whistle of birdsong at dawn, she was up. She pulled on a pair of boots and looked around her bed. But it occurred to her she owned nothing, save for her little silver cross.

She hurried through the abbey, past the open doors of the hall, now empty.

The men were outside, securing their saddles and mounting their horses.

She spotted Lord Uhtred as he was helping Lady Aethelflaed pack her own mount.

Osferth was by his horse, talking to the Irishman.

“Lord Uhtred!” Bridget called over the noise of the horses.

He turned to her with a small smile. “Fear not, we have not emptied your food stores—”

“I want to come with you,” she said.

She had the attention of the others now.

Uhtred chuckled to himself. “I already have a stray monk, I have no need for a little novice.”

Bridget’s skin still felt strange where it had been stained with blood. “I fought better than him.”

“Not a particularly high standard,” the Irishman joked. Osferth’s head sunk, but he was smirking too.

“So you killed one man and now you offer yourself as a warrior?” Uhtred asked.

Her breath caught in her throat as she finally realised the ridiculousness of her proposition. She could swing a branch, cut firewood and bury a knife into an unsuspecting man, but that would hardly help her in a true battle.

“With practice, perhaps?” She said, pressing her nails into her palm. “But I have some skills as a healer also. I’ve assisted the Abbess with all sorts of ailments, no doubt you encounter your fair share of injuries?”

“She’s got spirit, Uhtred, at least give her that,” Aethelflaed said.

“Please,” Bridget said, “give me the chance and I will prove myself to you.”

They each shared a few pointed glances.

“I admire your determination, but I cannot bring a girl onto the battlefield against armies of Danes. I cannot guarantee your protection and I cannot even offer you a horse.”

“Lord? She can ride with me,” Osferth said quietly. “With your permission of course. I can look out her.”

Uhtred raised his eyebrows. “Very well.”

Bridget felt herself smile, wide and showing off her top row of teeth. It felt uncomfortable but she didn’t try to stop herself.

The others were already starting to move off as she approached Osferth as he stroked the nose of his horse.

“Have you ridden before?” He asked.

“No.”

“You’ll sit behind me; I’ll help you up.”

Bridget nodded.

She watched as he placed his left foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over to the other side. “Easy,” he insisted, holding out his hand to her. “Don’t be afraid to use your strength.”

She followed his movements as best she could, but her skirt wouldn’t allow her to bring her leg to the other side of the saddle. She fell back onto her feet with a disgruntled huff.

“Other foot then, and slot both legs onto one side of the saddle.” He held out his hand again. “Ready?”

“Wait.” Bridget looked back to the space around her. The stream, the woods, the doors to the place that had never really felt like home. She reached for her headscarf and pulled it off her head, letting it fall to the ground. She didn’t suppose she would have any use for it now. Her hair fell down her back in a messy braid.

She looked back up at Osferth, between his hand, his eyes, and briefly to the curve of his upper lip. She held his hand tightly and hauled herself up onto the horse, her arms and legs trembling slightly at the effort.

Once the horse was settled Osferth gave it a gentle kick and they began to move. Bridget latched onto his shoulders as they began to sway with the movement.

“What if I fall off?” She asked, suddenly horrified at the prospect.

“You won’t fall off,” Osferth said, “use your thighs.”

“What?”

“Grip with your thighs,” he said.

She did so instinctively. Something about it felt… strange.

They cantered to catch up with the group and Bridget gripped Osferth’s shoulders a little tighter. Until he took one of her hands and placed it on his waist, so she wouldn’t impede on his arms. She muttered an apology and unsurely placed her other hand around him.

A few days ago she hadn’t so much as spoken to a man in years, except an incident where a nearby farmer had broken his leg, and even then she only wordlessly assisted the Abbess to bandage his limb.

Now she had her arms around a man’s torso, close enough to feel his warmth from under his winter cloak as her body rocked against his back.

“You’re frozen,” Osferth said, briefly brushing his thumb over her hand.

“It’s winter.”

“Did you not have anything warmer to wear?”

“We don’t attach ourselves to material items,” she said in a mockingly wistful voice.

He huffed a small laugh and pulled the horse to a stop before swinging his leg around the its head, landing on the ground in one smooth movement.

He undid the clasp on his cloak and held it up to her.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping it around her shoulders, “but I don’t want you to get cold.”

He mounted again, a little awkwardly with Bridget already in the saddle. “Hold it around me. We can keep each other warm.”

She shuffled closer into him. Osferth brought one hand off the reins and pulled the corner of the cloak around his arm as Bridget settled against his back, resting her head at the base of his neck.

Thank God he couldn’t see her as her cheeks started to burn against the cold and the snow.