#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

[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

[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]

Me, pictured above, cheesin’ during this whole fic because Osferth is making some lucky medieval woman happy

When will it be my turn 😭😭😭😭

Amazing fic Ange! The way you write Osferth makes me absolutely lose it (in the best way). I need him biblically.

Something to Prove

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Osferth is keen to sate curiosity when questions are raised as to why he has women fighting over him.

Author's note: Day eleven of Smuffmas - party and position changes. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She was exhausted, and hot. It was a chilly winter’s evening, and yet her skin felt clammy. The air in the tavern hung humid and heavy, the place more crowded than it had ever been. Loud cheers, laughter and the crash of wooden flagons being knocked together in joyous toasting filled the space, the cacophony of it all so loud that she could scarce hear the shouts for more ale that rang out in chorus each time a group had drained their mugs.

Her tired feet carried her ceaselessly from behind the bar and back again each time she emptied her jug and needed to refill it from the cask. The flagstone floor was sticky underfoot, and she had to be careful not to add to the mess by spilling what she carried, as the shoulders of revellers jostled her while she worked her way through the crowd, refilling and topping off the drinks of those that held their cups out to her. She did not mind though, they had every reason to celebrate; Wintanceaster had achieved victory that day against the Danes. With the aid of Uhtred and his men, the city had been defended from invading forces. The battle had been fierce, yet those that had taken up arms against the Danes had fought bravely, cutting down the opposition and causing what little remained to retreat. Wintanceaster was safe once more.

Everyone present was eager to toast to Uhtred, to thank him for his help, and congratulate him for how valiantly he fought, yet it was another person entirely who captured her attention. Osferth, a warrior monk who had pledged his loyalty to Uhtred, fighting alongside him and his men – ordinarily, he wasn’t a man she would have looked twice at, yet tonight she could not keep her eyes off of him. Two days previous, she had witnessed two women fighting viciously over him, to the point that his lord had had to step in to separate them. She could understand such jealousy being expressed over Uhtred, Finan or Sihtric; they were surly, confident, everything one would expect when envisioning bravery and heroism. Osferth, though he stood at least a head taller than the three men he travelled with, was wiry, his demeanour timid and apologetic.

She was desperately curious about him and, without even being conscious of it, her eyes sought him out each time she made a pass of the room. He was lost in merriment, laughing and joking with Finan, slopping ale onto the floor each time he raised his drink. Perhaps she would never know precisely why he inspired such feelings of jealousy from other women, at least not from simply looking at him anyway.

“I need some air, will you be alright for a moment?” she asked the other barmaid, shouting to be heard over the noise, as she placed her empty jug back upon the bar.

The older woman nodded. “Go on, can’t have you fainting on me. Don’t be long though, they’re a rowdy bunch tonight.”

The bite of the crisp night air made her skin prickle as she pushed outside, rapidly cooling her sweat-dampened skin and making her shiver. It was refreshing. She leaned back against the rough stone wall of the tavern, the noise inside muffled to a dull hum as the wooden door thumped heavily closed behind her. She huffed a sigh, her breath puffing out into a white cloud against the inky black night sky.

A burst of the din from the tavern startled her as the door swung open again, quieting as quickly as it had come as the person who had stepped out gently pushed it closed. She looked over, her lips parting in shock as she saw Osferth, moving to lean his back against the wall on the other side of the door, next to her. She masked her surprise, offering him a tight lipped, polite smile in greeting, before looking away again.

“Are you alright, lady?” he asked her softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Mmm,” she affirmed quietly, smoothing her hands over the white apron that was tied around the waist of her linen dress. She kept her eyes fixed upon the ground, “it is warm inside. I just needed a moment to breathe.”

“Me too,” he replied, “I don’t think I have ever drank so much ale…may I…ask you something?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, not moving her head as she cast him a playful sideways look and a smirk. “You already have.”

Osferth grinned, bowing his head as his eyes crinkled in amusement, and she lifted her face fully to watch him. “Yes, I suppose I have. But–” he turned fully to face her as he tucked his hands inside of the brown leather breastplate that he wore over his robes, “I have noticed you staring at me tonight, lady. May I ask why?”

Turning to face him too, she leaned her shoulder against the wall, her fingers fidgeting nervously with her apron. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason why, it was gossipy and impolite. “You fought bravely today, surely that is deserving of admiration?”

She watched his cheeks flush pink in the pale moonlight, as he looked through the window of the tavern, the soft glow of the lamplight inside illuminating the sharpness of his profile. He was quite beautiful to look at, she decided, as she studied the sharpness of his profile; an aquiline nose, strong jaw and high cheekbones. 

He offered her a shy smile as he looked back at her. “It is my lord, Uhtred, who is deserving of your praise. Most do not even know my name.”

“You are Osferth, are you not?”

His eyebrows raised slightly as his lips parted in surprise. “I am,” he answered, pulling his hands free of his breast plate to fold them over his chest as he studied her face. “Might I know your name, lady, and the real reason for your interest in me?”

Her skin grew warm with embarrassment, despite the frost that had begun to settle upon the ground. She told him her name, hesitating before revealing the real reason for why she had been looking at him throughout the evening. “I saw those women fighting over you the other day, and I was curious about it. Forgive me, it is not my place to wonder. I should get back inside, I have been gone too long.”

Without another word or a glance back, she pulled the door open, enveloped in heat once more as she weaved her way back to the bar. She concentrated on keeping the ale flowing for the rest of the night, doing her best to keep both her mind and her eyes off of Osferth. 

By the time the tavern closed for the evening, her body was practically crying out for the comfort of her bed and, thankfully, she did not have far to go. Her job included lodging – a small room located above the tavern, accessible from the outside of the building by stairs located at the back.

As she rounded the corner of the building, headed for the back of it, she gasped as she felt a hand grasp the top of her arm, accompanied by a soft whisper of her name. Heart hammering wildly and eyes wide with fright, she rounded on her assailant, preparing to defend herself against the worst.

She relaxed considerably as she stared up into the face of Osferth. He quickly let go of her arm, stepping back as he saw her fearful reaction. “Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you.”

His eyes were unfocused, his posture suggestive of a state of drunkenness that he had not been affected by when she had spoken to him earlier; he swayed slightly upon his feet, his posture not as rigid as it had been before. She worried that his group had left him in such a vulnerable state, and wondered if perhaps he had sought her out for help.

“How much ale have you had, Osferth?” she asked softly, gently grasping the leather cuffs that encased his forearms, holding him steady.

He blinked slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he stared fondly down at her. “Enough that I feel no shame for what I am about to ask, and not so much that I will regret it in the morning.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion, tilting her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

He turned his arms in hers, his own fingers gripping her forearms in return. She could feel how cold his fingers were through the sleeves of her dress. “Your question earlier…I should like to sate your curiosity.”

Her skin grew heated with embarrassment at his brazen suggestion, yet the chill of his skin worried her more. “Come, let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Osferth trailed after her up the rickety wooden stairs to the room she occupied above the tavern, hovering quietly behind her as her fingers, numb with cold, struggled with the key in the lock. It wasn’t much better once inside, but it was a roof over their heads at least – a roof much closer to Osferth’s head than hers, in fact. She had to stifle a laugh behind her hand, once she had gotten the lamp lit – Osferth stooped within the small place – she had never taken the time to consider his height before, but seeing him dwarf the space around him really emphasised just how tall he was.

She cast her eyes around the modest room, as though seeing it for the first time – the small double bed that was pushed up against the far wall, and the tiny window above it, the chest that sat at the foot ot it, and the rickety table and chair tucked away in the corner, with a cracked and dusty mirror that rested precariously upon the tabletop, alongside the wooden tub that she used for washing.

Looking back at Osferth, her tone was apologetic. “It’s not much, I don’t even have a fireplace, but it’s better than being stuck outside. It was wrong of Uhtred to just leave you like that.”

“I asked him to,” he admitted, as his gaze moved around the room, lingering on each item until he looked upon the bed. “May I?” he gestured towards it, “I’m going to end up bumping my head otherwise.”

She allowed herself to laugh then, and he laughed with her, the drunken haze of his blue eyes shining in the soft lamplight. She simply nodded, gesturing for him to sit on the edge of the bed, before joining him.

“Why did you want Uhtred to leave you?” she asked after a moment, acutely aware of how his thigh pressed against hers as they sat side by side.

“I told you before,” he said, turning slightly so that his body faced her, though he looked at her through his lashes, as his head was bowed, “I wanted to show you why those women fought over me.”

She scoffed in amusement, shaking her head. “That is highly presumptuous of you. What if I had said no?”

“You didn’t though, did you?” he asked, reaching out and gently taking her hand. The contact made her pulse race, but she didn’t pull away.

“It would have been unkind to leave you out in the cold…”

“You could have given me a blanket and allowed me to sleep it off in the tavern,” he reasoned, as his thumb stroked gentle circles against the back of her head, “but you invited me up here. And I think we both know why that is.”

“I just–”

Osferth shook his head as he lifted it, his eyes imploring as they stared into hers. “I was a novice. I know what it is to deny yourself what you desire. I saw that same look in your eyes tonight every time you looked at me. I no longer deny myself, and I don’t think you ought to either.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the weight they carried stirring a nervous fluttering within her. She hadn’t realised it until now, but her grip on his hand was now vicelike. “You’re drunk,” she whispered.

“You are beautiful,” he said sincerely, as his free hand reached up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

The moment that his lips were upon hers, something inside of her snapped, all restraint and sense of proprietary leaving her. She let go of his hand, both of hers coming to ball into the fabric of his robes not covered by his breastplate as she pulled him close. His nimble fingers tangled into her hair, causing her to moan, allowing his tongue to lick against hers as their kisses grew more urgent, the sticky sound of their saliva and panted breaths filling the small space.

She helped him to disrobe, unbuckling his cuffs and giggling as the straps of his leather armor tugged at his hair as she helped him to pull it over his head. Once both fully undressed, she was scared to look upon his naked form, afraid to let him see her, in case she lost her nerve. Before she had the chance to change her mind, she crawled on all fours onto the bed, presenting herself to him. It was how every other man she had allowed to hump her had taken her, so she didn’t see why Osferth would be any different.

He surprised her when he didn’t immediately grasp her hips and force himself inside of her. His fingertips trailed the length of her spine, making her shiver. She felt the mattress dip as he knelt upon it, leaning over her, his chest against her back as he nuzzled into her neck. No one had ever treated her with such tenderness before, especially not while intoxicated. She turned her face towards his, her heart almost skipping a beat as she saw the soft reverence in his eyes. He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth as his fingers dipped between her thighs.

His touch was gentle, exploratory. He stroked her in a way that made her ache and throb, gathering arousal from her opening before circling her bud with it. It felt nice to be prepared in this way, no one had ever taken such care with her before. Only when she bucked and mewled under his ministrations, the ache between her legs growing almost intolerable, did he notch the head of his cock against her and press forward. The stretch was slow, but pleasant, the fullness of him inside of her made her push her hips back against him, impatient to feel more of him.

She heard him exhale shakily, before giving her hips a playful squeeze and beginning to thrust into her. It wasn’t hard and fast, as she was used to, he took his time with each pull back and forward motion, as if he was getting to know her body, learning what movements made her whimper and sigh softly in pleasure. When he pulled out altogether, she whined in protest at the loss of him, looking back over her shoulder at him in annoyance. Osferth chuckled softly, before coaxing her onto her back.

“What are you doing?” she asked, feeling prone and exposed in this position. Her eyes raked over him, he was thin, but corded with lithe muscle and small faint scars that covered his torso. His cock stood proud between his legs, flushed at the tip and shiny with her wetness.

He stared at her with similar appreciation as he grasped the base of himself. “I do not wish to rut you like an animal,” he told her. He pushed her thighs apart, leaned down and dragged the flat of his tongue against her dripping sex, making her cry out in surprise. Osferth grinned as his face reappeared from between her thighs, grasping her calves and placing them over his shoulders, before plunging back inside of her.

The angle knocked at a spot inside of her that made her throw her head back, screwing her eyes shut, her legs shaking as his hips started to move again. She clutched the bedsheets to ground herself, her knuckles blanching with the force of her grip.

“There you go,” Osferth whispered breathlessly, holding her legs firmly against his body as he rocked his pelvis, “this is how you should look – worshipped and carefree.”

She dared to open her eyes, lifting her head to look upon the place where their bodies joined. She watched in rapt fascination as he disappeared inside of her, drawing back each time to reveal his glistening shaft and the light thatch of curls that sat at the base of it.

His eyes were hooded as he watched her and he let go of her thighs, allowing her legs to rest of their own accord against his shoulders as one hand moved to tweak one of her nipples into a stiffened peak, while the other snaked between their bodies and began circling her sensitive pearl with his thumb.

“It is too much,” she protested weakly, writhing beneath him, the dual assault on her senses making her feel as though she would lose all control.

“Nothing is too much for you,” Osferth reassured her. The hand upon her breast moved back to her thigh as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her knee. “Almost there, I can feel it.”

She could feel it too. The insistent bullying of his cockhead against her sensitive walls, coupled with the relentless rubbing of his thumb against her swollen bundle of nerves were rapidly tightening the coil in her lower belly. She felt his erection begin to pulse, and the sensation pushed her over the edge. He pulled out as she cried out in ecstasy began to spasm, groaning as he painted her lower belly with pearly ropes of his spend. Their bodies shuddered together, utterly lost in the throes of their shared peak until, finally, Osferth collapsed beside her, panting heavily.

He gathered her against his chest, holding her close, not caring that her skin was sticky with his release, and she couldn’t help the contented smile that spread across her face.

“It has never been like that for me with anyone before,” she confessed quietly.

“Do you feel like you understand now why those women fought over me?” Osferth asked playfully, “if not, I’d be more than happy to show you again.”

She giggled, lightly swatting his chest. “You have certainly proven yourself, though I would never say no to another demonstration.”

Read on AO3

More Osferth fics

[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.

[adragonprinceswhore]

You’re Nothing But A Beast

Osferth x Reader

Summary: After falling into a river in the middle of winter, Osferth needs to warm up his lady companion.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, depictions of hypothermia, temperature play, water being too hot for comfort, yearning, religious guilt, fingering, praise

A/N: I dug this one up and re-read it today, feeling festive so thought I’d share it 🩵

Word count: 2600

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It happened too quickly for Osferth to react.

Under his lord's request, he had been trusted with the important task of delivering a noble lady to her betrothed only two days' journey away.

But the sudden snowfall that met them after a mere half day's travel left the ground slippery, causing his companion's horse to panic and throw her off and into the river lining their path.

Osferth hadn’t hesitated when he jumped off his horse and reached into the river to aid her, swiftly dragging her to land as she coughed up the water she’d swallowed in shock.

He’d pulled the furs adorning his saddle loose and wrapped her in them in a futile attempt at keeping her warm, but to little avail. Shivers continuously erupted from her body so aggressively she could hardly stand still.

Now, dread makes Osferths chest tighten as he considers their situation.

Only half-way to the inn where they’re set to spend the night, one horse short and snow falling onto their cold bodies, freezing them further.

He glances at the Lady he’s meant to protect as he ponders their next move.

Her shaking form leaves him on high alert. She looks like prey; ready to be captured by any ravenous predator lurking behind the trees.

He knows how quickly the chill can claim a person.

I have failed her.

“My lady, we need to find heat”, he speaks rapidly, eyes blown wide in panic as one of his hands tenderly rests on her arm. She only shivers in response, mouth unable to utter words as her teeth chatter loudly together.

Lord Uthred had tasked him with this, a simple delivery, and he is failing him.

I have failed my lord.

Osferth tries to chase the defeatist thoughts rattling in his brain away. He cannot let this blunder best him, this might be one of God’s trials; a chance for him to prove to the Lord that he is still a good man, despite the depraved acts he’s indulged in as of late.

He places her in the saddle of his horse, continuing their tracking as he leads them on the narrow path lined with snowclad trees. He cannot help it when his eyes flicker to her. In the corner of his eye, he sees the strange shade her lips have shifted into; the drain of colour on her face.

When Lord Uthred had informed his men that one of them needed to escort a noble lady on a short trip, he hadn’t even bothered to look Osferths way. Fighting alongside them, offering his loyalty and by consequence, his life, to their cause still did not reflect on how they viewed him; always just a Baby Monk.

Osferth’s insistent advocating had finally worn his lord down. Uthred’s tone was laced with irritation when he reluctantly agreed to grant the young man his first expedition unaccompanied.

Looking around the sparse trees next to the path they were trailing, Osferth felt shame consume him like never before. He shouldn’t have been trusted with this; it was as they thought.

Still just a Baby Monk.

He sighs in resignation, moving to walk infront of where the lady’s shiver form is sitting so she won’t be able to see his face as the corners of his lips pull down.

Walking with his head cast down, shoulders tensing up with each step, he suddenly realises that he’s trailed this path before.

In summer, which could explain why he hadn’t recognised the scenery quicker, as it’s now coated in a layer of snow.

The Lord must be on my side.

“My lady, I know a place nearby that will warm you”, he speaks over his shoulder before he steers his horse towards where he is sure they discovered a natural spring spewing out hot water from the underground last time he walked this wood.

From the saddle of his horse, she let out a weak hum in reply.

Osferth’s estimations were correct. There is a source of hot water here; a blessing that God himself had carved out of the side of a rocky hill. Despite the harsh winter chill, it is still warm, judging by the steam oozing from it.

Could this be witchcraft?

They come to a halt before the water. “Lady, the spring here will warm you”, he explains, turning around to face her.

She’s stopped shivering, her body now seems stuck in rigidity. Osferth swallows thickly before reaching out to grab her waist to help her down from the horse. His fingers sink into the material of her coat with an unpleasant squelch; her clothes are soaked and freezing cold.

“You’ll need to remove this before entering”, he mumbles without looking into her eyes. The redness on his cheeks and ears are no longer solely from the harsh cold biting at his skin.

Before he joined Uthred, Finan and Sithric, he was a god-fearing monk devoted to a life in the service of God.

But his time with them had led him down a path of deviance; a life filled with swords, fighting and women.

The latter happened to be Osferth’s favourite of his new-found interests.

If he did not know of the pleasures of the flesh, he might not have found the lady he’s guarding so enchanting. He’d had eyes for her since he first saw her, admiring her soft skin and sparkling eyes. But only from afar.

Always from a distance.

A pious lady like her should not be sullied by my impurity, even in thought.

She moves unsteadily, hands stiff and rigid as she unsuccessfully tries to undo the buckles of her winter coat.

“Allow me”, Osferth offers as he quickly helps her get the coat off. Her thick wool dress underneath is just as soaked as her outer layer and Osferth helps her shed that too.

Soon, she is left in nothing but her undergarments; a thin, crem-coloured smock. It sticks to her curves like a second skin, giving Osferth a clear view of her perky nipples and the soft curls nestled between her thighs.

He does not know what to say, afraid his voice will betray his tainted intentions, and chooses to remain silent when he grabs her hand to lead her towards the heated water. He’s determined to help her get in, make sure she does not slip on any icy rocks, and then leave her to bathe herself warm.

Her cold hand holds on to him tightly as she steps into the water, a cry escapes her lips at the contact.

“I-, I cannot enter. It’s too hot”, she whines, stepping back. Osferth moves his hands to hold on to her elbows as he searches for her eyes.

“You must warm up, my lady. The chill could kill you”, he speaks softly. She nods in understanding, again moving her feet back into the scorching water. She hisses at the sting as she brings her second foot in, eyes growing glassy at the sensation.

“Osferth, it burns”, she meekly complains.

“Please, try to relax”, he instructs her. He cannot help but take pity on her, she still looks so weak, the familiar glint in her eyes no longer there.

She takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before experimentally lowering her body a bit further. The hot water feels like a thousand needles piercing her skin and she quickly stands to her full height again.

The grip she has on Osferths coat tightens as she stiffly stands in the warm spring, “I cannot-, i- it’s too painful”, she says in a defeated tone.

Osferth feels how cold her body is through her thin smock. He sees the odd colouring of her face. She needs to warm her body, even if it’s painful.

The brief but instructive experience with the women he’d indulged in had earned him some new skills. Perhaps he could utilise that to make her more pliable?

“If I help you overcome the sting, will you stay in the water?”, he inquires with uncertainty, already ashamed of his lewd proposal.

She looks up at him curiously, nodding in response.

“I know of a way to relax you, if you trust me?”

“I trust you with my life, Osferth”, she gently replies, giving him the courage he needs to show her his debauchery.

He smiles nervously, allowing his hand to move from her elbow down to her hip. He cannot find the words to explain what he’ll do to her, and decides that it would be better to simply show her.

His palm travels from her hip, to her thigh, and then towards her centre. She shivers slightly under his touch, but does not stop him, eyes watching him in peculiarity.

He moves to gently cup her mound, long fingers reaching down to stroke her core over her garment.

The fabric will shield her from my impurity, if only slightly.

His face feels hot, his eyes flicker from her face to the snowy setting surrounding them. He tries his best to remain indifferent, but the sweet gasp she releases as he carefully strokes her stirs something awake within him.

“Focus on the pleasure, my lady”, he instructs her as he moves his fingers to circle her pearl through the wet fabric of her smock. He wonders if she’s ever done this to herself; ever allowed herself to engage in sinful pleasure.

Her fists are still holding onto the fabric of his coat, her breath heavy as she tries to forget the burning water her feets are submerged in.

Osferth grows bolder, pressing down a bit harder as his fingers work in steady circles. Her body squirms before him.

He instantly stops the movements of his hand, eyes filled with worry as he asks, “Am I hurting you?”

“No”, she says with a slight shake of her head.

“Then let me”, he pleads, picking up the pace of his hand once more, “Please”

She closes her eyes, tiny gasps leaving her stiff mouth.

“I-, If you.. also touch..”, he cannot finish the sentence, still ashamed of his depravity; the depravity he’s inflicting upon her.

She must know that he does not mean to besmirch her, his only wish is to help her.

She surely knows how sullied I am by now. Will she still allow me to guard her as our journey continues for another day?

“Osferth?”, her voice, close to a moan, brings his thoughts to a halt.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Is it a sin to kiss?”

Her inquiry leaves his mouth dry, yet he swallows and answers, “I-, I do not know”

“Oh”, she sighs, not in pleasure but more akin to disappointment.

“I-, I cannot imagine it is!”, he blurts out when he sees her eyes cast down, “Simply an expression of affection. Like between a mother and her babe”, he reasons, voice slightly breathless at the implication.

“Do you feel affection for me?”, she asks, gaze trailing up to meet his.

How could he resist her now, when she’s looking at him like that? When the shimmer in her eye has returned? When he can think of nothing else but to swallow the sweet moans that leave her lips?

He ducks his head down to kiss her in reply, the hand not between her thighs coming up to engulf the entirety of her cheek.

She moans into his mouth when his thumb circles her pearl, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Her face and lips are so cold, but her kiss is just as sweet as he’d imagined.

He comes up for air, still revelling in the feeling of her, “Does it feel more bearable?”

“Yes”, she moans again, the colour now back on her cheeks.

Despite the depraved method, Osferth takes pride in knowing that he’s helping her; warming her up again.

“Kneel”, he instructs, allowing her to grab onto him as he lowers himself with her, standing on his knees in the snow as she sinks further into the scorching water.

She hisses at the stinging sensation and Osferth soothes her with another kiss, quietly murmuring, “I’ll make you comfortable, my lady”.

He can feel how cold the smock is against her skin, and without pondering upon it for too long, he moves to rid her of the garment. A voice inside of him tells him it’s to allow the steam from the water to reach her skin. Another voice tells him it’s for his own pleasure, so he may admire her fully.

Has the devil consumed my senses?

She is still shivering; from the cold air, the heat of the water, or Osferth’s touch, she does not know.

He brings one of his hands down into the water, large palm gently scooping up some of the scorching water and letting it slide down the side of her arm.

“You’re doing so well”, Osferth compliments her, eyes kind and inviting as they seem unable to stray away from hers.

His hand comes up to cradle the side of her face. She leans into his touch and closes her eyes, focusing on the pleasure, not her stinging flesh.

His other hand moves between her thighs again, but this time he makes contact with her pearl without hindrance and she whimpers at his touch, eyebrows scrunched together in bliss.

Divine.

His fingers travel down further. Feeling the wetness he created with his touch has his head spinning.

As he slips a finger inside her tight heat, she grabs onto his shoulders, rocking her hips in tandem with his movements, throwing her head back. He searches for that spot inside her that he knows will make her collapse into his embrace, and when he finds it she rewards his pursuit with another pleasure-thick cry.

“Use me, my lady. Find your pleasure”, Osferth urges as he places his hand so that the finger inside of her tightness presses at her sweet spot while the heel of his palm pushes down on her pearl.

Her fists hold onto his shoulders tightly as she rides his hand, mouth gasping as it searches for his to indulge in another sin. He lets her use him; he knows he’s the one responsible for her wanton ways.

I’ll pray to the Lord for her salvation later.

Another finger slips inside her, and he feels her tighten harshly as she peaks, falling forward into his embrace. He carefully moves his hand away from her warmth, allowing her a moment to steady her breathing as she rests her head against his chest.

Though she has found peace and comfort, Osferths body is still on high alert, painfully aware of the closeness between him and her naked form.

He’s been able to keep his gaze away from her, to offer her the slightest decency, but when she leans back his eyes unabashedly flicker down to watch the steady rise and fall of her breasts.

She finally sinks into the water, breathing heavily from the intense peak he drew from her. Osferth’s panting as well; cheeks tinted pink and eyes dark with lust. His mouth appears to be salivating as his gaze stays on her.

She lets out a breathless giggle as she allows the hot water to graze over her skin.

“You’re nothing but a beast, Osferth”

Her words wound him, but the playful smile on her face leaves him intrigued.

“Has the devil got his claws in you?”, she continues to taunt him, though he senses that her intent is not malicious.

“Consume me too. Show me the depths of your depravity”

[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.

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.

Part two | Series masterlist

[thought--bubble]

Forgive Me

OsferthX Damsel Reader

Word Count: 1,671

For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)

December 16th - fireplace and face fucking (Probably just going to stay a day behind. lmao)

Smuffmas Masterlist

Osferth Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Mentions of violence, arranged marriage, Oral Male receiving (obvs), Face fucking (Obvs)

“Take her and go!” Uhtred shoves Osferth toward you, the clanking of swords and the smell of blood swirling around you in flashes.

You were not built for this.

“Come,  lady!” Osferth wraps his hand around yours, tugging you toward the woods. One hand is in yours, and the other is holding a sword you weren't quite sure he knew how to use.

“The monk?! They left me with the monk?” You squeeze his hand tighter. You had nothing against Osferth; you just enjoyed life and all of its infinite mysteries, and to that end, you would have preferred to be guarded by Sihtric or Finan.

Of all the moments in your life thus far where being a woman was inconvenient, this had to be right at the top of the list: running through the muddy woods in a flowing gown and shoes that were more like slippers.

This morning, the outfit seemed like a good idea. You were being transferred from your home to that of your betrothed, a marriage that was important for both the Saxons and Scots. So, Uhtred and his friends were tasked with taking you there.

The travels had been simple thus far. You rode your horse surrounded by the men, with Finan being the only one who would talk to you. Uhtred and Sihtric were at the front, making strategic plans to get you there as quickly as possible, and Osferth trailed behind, blushing furiously anytime you looked back to make sure he was still with you.

All that changed quickly when you were ambushed by what you believed were Danes. So instead, you are running - running as fast as your legs will carry you, holding hands with the shy monk.

“Where do we go?” you ask him, panic rising in your chest. Surely he has a plan.

“Um... forward!” he huffs, jerking your arm along behind him. “We are not far from a village. We were to stop there to rest overnight.”

You nod, panting heavily, willing your legs to continue. Just keep going. Just keep moving. He'll keep you alive, right?

When he feels like you've made it far enough away from the fray, he finally relents, letting go of your hand and leaning against a tree to pant, taking in large gulps of air.

You follow suit but fall to your knees. “I am not sure I can continue,” you whimper, each breath hurting your lungs.

“I will carry you if I must, but if I am being honest, lady, I do not wish to,” he continues to pant, looking at you pleadingly.

You stand back up, still breathing heavily but able to start moving again. “Are you insinuating that I am too heavy to carry?”

His face reddens, and he immediately starts to stutter. “Wha? No! No! No, lady, that is not at all-”

“I am teasing you, Osferth,” you sigh with a big smile on your face, watching a flustered Osferth attempt to regain his composure.

“Forward? I believe that is what you said?” You start to walk, leaving Osferth confused and staring behind you before he leaps into action. It only takes his long legs two strides to catch up to you, and you both fall into a comfortable silence as you walk toward your destination.

When you finally reach the small village, you feel relieved and exhausted. You see Osferth speaking animatedly with the innkeeper but stand far enough away that you can't hear the exact conversation. However, from the immensely annoyed face of the innkeeper and the desperate expression on Osferth, you can surmise it isn't good.

When Osferth returns to you, he stares steadily at the ground. “Lady, follow me.”

You follow him quietly up the stairs but can't help but laugh. “Why do you look as if you are walking to the gallows?”

“Please forgive me, but I did not have enough for two rooms.” He reaches the room and pushes open the door. “We will have to share until the others join us.”

“And sharing with me, is that what has you looking so down?” You walk past him into the room and flop down on the bed. It isn't ladylike, but you're so exhausted you don't care.

“Yes,” he states matter-of-factly. You lift your head and raise an eyebrow at him.

“I see.” An awkward silence claims the room, and after a few minutes tick by, Osferth seems to have understood your sentiment.

“Lady, I did not mean that sharing with you is... umm... uhhh... unpleasant by any means.” He twiddles his thumbs in his robes, his eyes moving back and forth furiously as he tries to say the right thing.

You know exactly what he meant, but it is fun to see him squirm nonetheless. “Just that it is... umm... improper?” he shrugs.

“Do you think that if left alone in this room with you, I will suddenly become ravenous for you?” You sit up. “Shedding my clothes and pouncing on you, handing my purity over to you just like that?”

Osferth's eyes go wide, and he mumbles what should be words but instead produces an assortment of primitive sounds before he gives up.

“I will sleep on the floor. By the fire,” he turns quickly, putting his back to you and kindling the fireplace, muttering to himself—no doubt chastising himself for his poor choice of words.

Once the fire is lit, he lays down flat on the hard floor, his hands under his head, and squeezes his eyes tightly closed.

“Would you like a blanket?”

“No.”

“A pillow, perhaps?”

“No.”

“A-” He cuts you off.

“If it is all the same to you, Lady, I feel we should sleep.”

You nod and lay back. “Of course.”

The room goes quiet again, the crackling of the fireplace the only perceivable sound.

Your heart beats loudly in your chest. Each thump of the stubborn muscle pushes sleep further and further away.

You get out of bed and pad your way over to Osferth, who is still lying on the ground, eyes closed.

“I think you were right, Osferth.” His eyes fly open, and he looks up at you, standing over him.

“Right?” He chokes out, confusion etched across his beautiful features.

“Being in this room with you...” You kneel down and push his legs apart, settling between them. “I think I may have suddenly become ravenous for you.” You push up his robes to his beltline. You know exactly what you want to do to him. You've never done it, of course, but you've heard the other ladies talking about it. It can't be that hard.

You make quick work of the laces that hold his breeches closed and tug them down gently.

“Lady! What are you doing?” He looks down at you, slightly panicked, but makes no move to stop you.

“I owe you my life, do I not?” You cup his cock over his breeches, feeling him tighten underneath.

“Lady, you do not owe me this,” Osferth pants, unable to hide the desire in his voice.

“What if I want to?” You start to slide his breeches down his legs slowly until they reach his thighs, his rapidly hardening cock springing free.

His cock stands thick and heavy, the glistening tip betraying his arousal. Unsure how to proceed, you take him into your hand and begin to stroke slowly and softly.

Osferth takes a shuddering breath, his hips undulating with each movement. He curls his hands at his sides, fingernails digging slightly into the floorboards.

“Lady, I-” he grunts as you increase the tempo of your strokes, panting at his every reaction.

He bites his bottom lip, stifling a moan, sweat beading on his brow as he uses every ounce of strength he possesses to keep his hands to himself.

You lean forward and take the weeping head of his cock into your mouth, the salty taste bursting across your taste buds.

Osferth's head falls back in a loud groan as you bob your head along his shaft the way you believe it is supposed to be done, based on what you heard from the other ladies.

You can see Osferth's stomach muscles clench on his lower abdomen, his fingers now clawing at the floorboards beneath him.

As you slide your mouth up and down his cock in a slow, sensual motion, he gasps.

“I apologize, my lady,” he pants suddenly. As soon as you go to lift your head to see what he means, his hands tangle in your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts up into your face like a man starved.

He grunts loudly, nearly yanking your hair from your head, the tip of his cock battering the back of your throat.

Osferth pushes his breeches down to his ankles, kicking them off one leg.

“Almost done, promise,” he groans, lifting his knees, spreading his legs around you, pushing the back of your head, causing your nose to be buried among the light curls there. You sputter and gag as he groans, his grip in your hair tightening as he thrusts his hips unabated. A copious amount of your drool puddles on his balls and even the wooden floor beneath him as his thrusts grow quicker, plowing through the entrance to your throat like a ramrod.

Osferth snarls like a dog as you gag and grip at his thighs, trying to ground yourself.

“AHHHH! Forgive me!” He stills, his entire body tense before he explodes in your mouth, the foreign sensation making you somehow swallow and gag at the same time.

He falls back against the floor, releasing your head and panting harshly, his hand resting on his stomach.

You sit up, your head dizzy and your face covered in a mix of your saliva and his release.

“That was not what the ladies described,” you finally huff out, still looking at Osferth in a daze.

“This is why I ask for my daily penance,  lady,” he pants between labored breaths, a smile on his face.

[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.

[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

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[vroom--vrooming]

Finan x nun!Reader

Osferth having a mental breakdown as he watches Finan get a little too close with a beautiful nun. Osferth's pov

The abbey was a welcome refuge from the cold, wet night. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth were grateful to be out of the rain and under a sturdy roof, even if it meant they had to keep their voices down and behave themselves—at least somewhat. The nuns offered them food and dry clothes, which the group accepted with much appreciation.

As they settled in, Osferth noticed Finan’s eyes wandering. It wasn’t surprising, really. Finan was always the first to notice a pretty face, and tonight was no different. The young nun who had helped bring them food had caught his eye, and Osferth could see the spark of interest in Finan’s gaze.

“Finan,” Osferth whispered as they sat near the hearth, the others engrossed in their meal. “You do realize she’s a nun, right?”

Finan shot him a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling. “Aye, I know, baby monk. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the beauty of God’s creation, now does it?”

Osferth’s eyes widened, and he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “She’s taken vows, Finan! She’s dedicated her life to God!”

Finan shrugged, clearly unbothered. “God’s not the only one who can make a woman smile, Osferth. Besides, we’re just talking.”

But Osferth knew that “just talking” with Finan often led to far more, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a terrible idea. He watched with mounting dread as Finan made his way over to where the nun was tidying up, striking up a conversation that seemed far too charming for a simple discussion about bread and wine.

As the evening wore on, Osferth couldn’t help but keep an eye on Finan, who was making the nun laugh with what had to be inappropriate jokes. The young monk’s nerves were fraying by the minute, and he could barely focus on his prayers.

When night fell, the abbey grew quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams or the rustle of the wind outside. Osferth found himself unable to sleep, his mind spinning with worry about Finan’s behavior. What if something happened? What if the abbot found out? The thought of it all made him shudder.

Unable to bear the anxiety any longer, Osferth decided to check on Finan. He crept through the darkened halls, moving as quietly as he could. But as he rounded a corner, he came to a sudden halt. There, in the dim light of a single candle, was Finan. And there was the nun, standing much too close to him.

Osferth’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Finan lean in, his lips brushing against the nun’s. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. Osferth’s eyes widened in shock, and he spun around, desperate to flee before they noticed him.

But in his haste, he stumbled over a loose stone and fell forward, landing on his knees with a loud thud. The noise echoed through the hall, and Osferth froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He dared a glance over his shoulder, and to his horror, Finan and the nun were both staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Osferth!” Finan’s voice was a harsh whisper, both surprised and amused. “What are you doing here?”

Osferth scrambled to his feet, his face burning with embarrassment. “I-I was just… I didn’t… I mean, you… you can’t do that!”

Finan smirked, clearly unfazed. “Can’t do what, exactly?”

Osferth gestured wildly between the two of them. “That! You can’t… she’s a nun! You can’t just kiss her!”

Finan chuckled, his voice low. “Looks like I can, baby monk.”

The nun blushed, taking a step back, her eyes flickering between Finan and Osferth. “I… I should go.”

She hurried off down the hall, leaving Finan and Osferth standing there in awkward silence. Finan turned to Osferth, still grinning. “You really know how to kill a mood, don’t you?”

Osferth was flabbergasted. “You can’t just kiss a nun! She’s pledged her life to God!”

Finan shrugged, utterly shameless. “Aye, well, I just borrowed a bit of her time, didn’t I?”

Osferth didn’t know whether to be angry or horrified. “This is wrong, Finan! You could get us all in trouble!”

Finan clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Osferth. No harm done. Now, let’s get you back to bed before you give yourself a heart attack.”

Osferth wanted to protest, but he was too flustered to form a coherent argument. Instead, he followed Finan back to their quarters, his mind racing with thoughts of sin and scandal.

The next morning, Osferth sat with Uhtred and Sihtric, still troubled by the events of the previous night. He hesitated, then decided he had to tell someone. He leaned in closer to them, his voice low. “Finan… he… he kissed a nun.”

Uhtred raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Did he now?”

Sihtric chuckled. “A nun? Really?”

Osferth nodded, his expression serious. “It’s not funny! He could get us all in trouble!”

Uhtred and Sihtric exchanged a look, then burst out laughing, much to Osferth’s dismay. “Oh, come on, baby monk,” Uhtred said, clapping him on the back. “You’ve got to admit, it’s a bit funny.”

Osferth sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get any sympathy from them. He could only shake his head and mutter another prayer, hoping that this would be the end of Finan’s mischief.

But as he glanced across the room, he saw Finan wink at the nun as she passed by, and Osferth knew with a sinking feeling that this was far from over.

[silens-oro]

My Lady

Osferth x f!Dane!reader

Synopsis: Feeling are requited and Osferth takes the leap of faith.

Word Count: 5,994

Content Warning: 18+, battle, blood, gore, wounds, mention of slavery, mention of being a bed slave, mentions of religion. this is so soft 🥺

AN: idk man it’s always loving Osferth hours in this house. This was posted on my phone so the layout might be a little wonky.

No mention of “y/n”

“Lord,” Osferth choked out as Uhtred entered the tent. You pushed the cloth against the wound in his abdomen to stem the flow of blood. He gasped in pain, clenching at the furs under him. “Did you see me fight?”

“I did,” Uhtred responded, surveying the injury. “You fought bravely.” Osferth gave a weak nod of his head.

“Am I going to die, Lord?” Osferth asked after a brief moment of silence. His eyes were directed to the top of the tent, wincing with each press from your working hands. “I do not fear it.”

“No. I forbid it,” Uhtred placed a gentle hand on Osferth’s chest. Uhtred looked down to you and you nodded with a sigh. One of your hands moved up to grasp Osferth's. He squeezed back, though it was weak.

“If we can get him into a wagon and deliver him to Lady Aethelflaed’s estate -and should a fever not set- he will live to see the next battle.” You assured Uhtred, though you were not entirely confident. You kept the negative thoughts to yourself.

“You hear that? You shall spark fear into the hearts of Danes once more, Baby Monk.” Finan joked from behind you, bringing a pained smile to the monk’s face as you swung an arm back to hit Finan in the stomach. The man grunted and moved backwards to save himself from a second blow.

“He will need plenty of furs to stay warm. We need to move quickly,” You called to Sihtric who nodded from his place at the entrance of the healing tent and left to ready the wagon without question.

The tent cleared as everyone saw Osferth was in good hands. This left you, Finan, and Osferth as the sole occupants.

“Help me sit him up,” You directed Finan. “I need to wrap him securely before we leave. Finan nodded and did as was instructed. Osferth tried to keep his groans of agony to himself, but the pain was so severe that shouts left his lips before he could stop them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You tried to soothe him with a palm cupping his sharp jawline. Osferth leaned his cheek into it naturally, looking for any comfort he could get. Your hands worked quickly to wrap the cloth around the makeshift bandage just under his ribs. Once you were happy with your work, you brought his shirt back down and returned the furs to keep him warm.

“Gently,” You instructed Finan as he guided Osferth back onto his cot by his shoulders. The monk’s hand sought yours out as he settled. “Rest,” You gently pushed the sweaty hair from his forehead. “I will stay with you until we are ready to leave.” Osferth nodded with a soft tilt of his lips, closed his eyes, and succumbed to the darkness for rest. Finan waited a few moments, making sure the Baby Monk’s chest was rising and falling with slowed, sleeping breaths before he spoke.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Finan’s grin was wider than you had ever seen it. Shooting the Irishman with a pointed glare, you made sure your threat was loud and clear.

“Say another word and you will not have eyes to deceive you.” You promised, grunting as you stood from your kneeling position on the ground. You didn’t bother trying to clean the mud from the knees of her breeches. They were soaked in blood and other more vile liquids that spilled on a battlefield. Mud was the least of your worries.

“I am merely an observer.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “He’s fond of you.” You rolled your eyes, wiping your hands with a discarded rag. “And you are fond of him if I’m to believe what I’m seeing?”

“The man could very well be on his deathbed, Finan. The last thing he needs right now is your meddling.” Finan took a few steps closer with a thick brow raised.

“If I was lyin’ as he is now, would you hold my hand too?” He baited.

“I’d hold a pillow over your face and be free of your endless torment.” You replied with a smirk. Of course he was right. You knew this and absolutely hated it.

“Ah! My point is proven!” Finan’s grin softened the longer he looked between the sleeping monk and yourself. “This isn’t a bad thing.” He whispered with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. “You’ll chew up the poor lad and spit him out, but there are worse ways to die…you could make this work.” Your stomach turned in anxiety. There seemed to be some truth in Finan’s words, otherwise he wouldn’t be fighting so hard for you to take the proverbial leap into the unknown. Still, the walls around your heart were fortified. You hadn’t laid with a man willingly since before your enslavement, and the idea of giving yourself physically and emotionally to anybody filled you with a certain kind of dread that was all encompassing.

You did not speak to anyone other than Uhtred and Gisela about your year as a bed slave and you were sure the rest of the group knew something, but they were not privy to the details. You wanted to keep it that way.

If Osferth knew how deep the rot festered, how ruined you had truly been, he would want nothing to do with you -you were sure of it. Your stomach clenched painfully once more and it was decided that if you did not take the chance, he would never look at you differently. Things would stay just as they were.

“Finan,” You shot him a warning look. “I’m sure you can find some other poor souls to play matchmaker on. Outside. And make sure the wagon is ready while you’re at it.”

“Alright, alright. I can take a hint.” He dodged a bowl that was aimed at his head as he ran from the tent with a laugh. Now that you had the tent to yourself and the sleeping monk, you sighed heavily and looked down at him resting peacefully. A few tears fell freely.

You will not be tainted by me, you thought.

The gray sky was moving above Osferth when he opened his eyes. His body rocked back and forth within the back of the wagon he had been safely placed in for transport to Saltwic.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Baby Monk.” Finan said with a laugh. Osferth smiled back at the Irishman before his eyes naturally found yours. Riding your horses to Finan’s left, Osferth’s right, it took everything to not give into the temptation to kick the Irishman off of his steed and into the bushes on his other side. Osferth’s smile softened into something that could be described as adoration the longer his gaze stayed on you. A pang twisted in your heart, but you returned the smile all the same.

Finan caught your eyes and he shot you a look that clearly said ‘You see? I am not wrong.’ Osferth’s eyes were questioning as Finan nudged his horse to move up to Uhtred at the front of the group to give you privacy.

“Pay the idiot no mind,” You reassured Osferth with a gentle smile. “Relax. We should arrive at Lady Aethelfled’s estate by nightfall. They’ll be able to fix you up better than I can.”

“Your efforts do not go unappreciated, my lady,” Osferth stared up at you, openly and without a care, as he spoke raspily. He noted that you looked exhausted. Your hair was loose from the twists and braids it was in previously to keep it tamed in battle. Your right eye was shadowed with the deep bruising of a black eye, a deep, painful looking cut marred the left side of your upper lip and small scratches and bruises littered your face, but you had never looked more beautiful to Osferth as you did in that moment.

He thought of how you fought your way to him and pulled him to safety when he was sure to die on that battlefield. The sheer strength of you in the heat of battle was truly a sight to behold. He knew then, as he lay in the back of that wagon, that he loved you.

It had to be love.

Even in the clutches of death, it felt like he was floating every time he looked upon you. A pagan woman who was so different from him, in life and in constitution, who was deemed his enemy in principle alone had enraptured him. You were not the heathen monster he had been taught about as he grew up within the monastery. You were a survivor in a cruel world that had only shown you pain and misery. Osferth knew that in your world -a world he was trying desperately to acclimate himself to- you persevered or you perished. You adapted to everything that had been thrown your way, and came out victorious at every turn.

You were everything Osferth wished he could be, what his own convictions would never allow him to truly be. He admired you, deeply and wholly. You were not a soft lady, wilting at the thought of impropriety -though that is what he was taught what a lady should be. Modest, God-fearing, dutiful, quiet were not descriptors that corresponded with you. Dutiful, maybe, but not in the sense of what standard Saxon women were held to.

Your hands were rough and calloused, Osferth noted when you held his hand in the tent, from a lifetime with a sword in your hands. If it was the last you were to touch him, he would have the feeling engraved in his memory. He could vividly remember how those very hands felt as his cheek was nestled in your palm to comfort him and it nearly took his breath away then. The feeling of your skin upon his felt as natural as breathing air into his lungs.

Osferth could feel the heat rising within his cheeks at the thought. He closed his eyes once more and let the rocking of the wagon lull him to sleep lest he make a complete fool out of himself.

“You care for him,” It was more of a statement than a question. The group had made its way into the safety of the estate in the cover of night. The healers immediately took Osferth to be worked on the moment the wagon wheels came to a halt. Now, as the first pink rays of the morning sun were just starting to peek over the horizon, he was asleep in a healing room with you watching over him dutifully.

Your legs stretched out before you as you teetered in your chair. Clean breeches rubbed against your skin. A much needed bath and a change of clothing could make a world of a difference. You threw a side-eye at Uhtred as he approached your side to look upon the sleeping monk.

“You’ve been conspiring with Finan?” A grin grew on Uhtred’s lips at your accusation.

“No,” He said simply with a chuckle. “Your affections are not subtle, my friend.”

“No…they are not.” You stated plainly, looking over at Osferth’s resting form. You knew he would be okay, but the stress within you still lingered unpleasantly.

His eyes were closed, face relaxed as he slept soundly. Lady Aethelfled’s healers had cleaned and stitched up Osferth’s wound, and gave him a tea that would allow him to sleep so he could rebuild his strength. His steady, deep breaths were a comfort.

Uhtred’s hand rested on your shoulder. He squeezed gently in reassurance.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of.” He said softly as to not disturb Osferth. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d open up, and with a monk no less, but you have my support. Always.” He grinned at you, but his lips quickly downturned when you looked anything but happy. Uhtred came around to kneel in front of you.

“I thank you for your blessing, Uhtred, but it does not matter.” You replied with a heavy sigh. “I cannot allow myself to sully him.” Your voice was soft, the emotion behind the words was nothing Uhtred had heard from you in many years of service you had given to him. “We could not be any more different.” You looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, thumb tracing the deep blue hues of the rune tattooed within your left palm. “I’m afraid my time in East Anglia has left me more damaged than I would like to admit. No man, even as good and kind as Osferth is, will want me once they learn of what has happened.” You shook your head and Uhtred felt his heart shatter within his chest. He took your hands in his and held tight. “His God would not allow him to see me as I see him, I’m sure of it.”

“Then you are blind.” Your brows furrowed as you picked up your head to look Uhtred in the eyes.

“I do not understand.” You shook your head, looking back to Osferth. Uhtred guided your head back in his direction with a gentle tilt from his finger under your chin.

“No man worth their weight would ever turn you away. What happened…was not your fault. My decisions led you to that fate, and there will never be a day that passes that I do not hate myself for it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “You lived, you survived, and you came back from it. You cannot be faulted for surviving.” Uhtred squeezed your trembling hands. “I cannot tell you what he feels, but I see how he looks to you.”

“In fear,” you said, looking away from Uhtred. The shadow of self-doubt loomed heavily over you, shrouding you in darkness. That was how men looked at you, with nefarious eyes or with total fear. Osferth did not have a lecherous bone in his body, and the day he ever showed you blatant disrespect would be the very day he turned a sword onto himself.

“Perhaps,” Uhtred chuckled softly, though it wasn’t to taunt you. “or perhaps it is admiration. I had looked upon Gisela as he looks upon you now. I know it very well.” Your eyes met Uhtred’s. To bring up the late Gisela was painful for him, you knew that. Squeezing Uhtred’s hands in return, you let them go as he stood.

Uhtred could tell how uncomfortable you were with this whole conversation. Even before your enslavement, Uhtred knew you had taken the occasional lover. You never married, and had never taken a man steadily.

This was something else entirely.

“It is a fleeting thought that I will dwell upon no longer.” You picked up the bowl of water that was tinted pink from the bedside table and held it to your abdomen. Looking back at Uhtred as you reached the door, Uhtred looked back at you with a deep sadness in his eyes at the torment he could see flooding through you like an internal tidal wave.

She was self-destructing before the poor monk ever had the opportunity to fight for his own heart, he thought.

“I just wish him to recover.” You whispered, looking to Osferth once more before taking your leave.

“Osferth!” You shouted as the monk fell to the ground after he had thrown another off of a horse. You continued to cut down the surrounding Danes to make your way to the monk. “Get up!” You slayed any man that stepped before you with a ferocity that was unmatched. “Get up now, Osferth! You will stand or I will kill you myself! AH!” You kicked a Dane in the balls and shoved your sword through his neck as he hunched over.

“Osferth?” You called again, panting profusely, but the monk did not move from where he fell. The salt of your sweat burned your eyes with each drop that fell from your brows.

“Sihtric!” The man in question whipped his head around to find you. “Clear a path!” There weren’t many Danes left who hadn’t fled with their tails tucked between their legs, but there were still a good number that wished for the glory of Valhalla. Sihtric nodded, clearing any upright Danes as you unburied Osferth from the men who fell above him.

“He lives,” You breathed in relief as your eyes met his. “Get up,” You demanded.

“I cannot,” Osferth’s breaths were heavy and quick as he brought shaking hands to his bleeding abdomen. “My Lady.” The sight took the breath from your lungs, but it didn’t take long to jump into action.

“You must,” You grunted. Osferth shouted in pain as you pulled the larger man to his feet. He leaned heavily on you as you tried to keep him from toppling over. Osferth’s pale facade turned an ashen color from the blood loss and it made you move even quicker. Sihtric cut down anyone who saw you and the injured monk as open targets with little effort.

“I will get you to the healing tent, but you must first have the courage to live!” You grunted as you all but hefted the towering monk over your shoulder. His feet dragged through the mud and muck of the field as you put the last of your energy into getting him to safety.

Sihtric took Osferth’s other shoulder to assist in carrying the half dead man to the tent.

“Empty a cot! Now!” Your voice boomed, striking the woman inside into action.

“Here!” She instructed, allowing Sihtric and you to gently place Osferth onto the furs.

“I need cloth, bandages -anything to stem the bleeding. Quickly,” You instructed Sihtric. The woman who acted as a healer was already overwhelmed, bouncing between the various tents, and you could not afford any wasted time if Osferth was to live.

Shoving his modesty to the side, you started cutting anything off of him that obstructed your view of the wound. Fresh blood quickly coated your shaking hands as it flowed without intention of stopping.

“Find Uhtred. Quickly!” You instructed Sihtric as he dropped an arm full of supplies onto the cot between Osferth’s writhing legs. Sihtric flew out of the tent once more, screams of pain and anguish followed behind him, nipping at his heels.

Osferth fought against you as you pressed a bandage to the gaping wound that resided just under his ribs.

“I know this hurts, but I must stem the flow!” You gritted your teeth as you pressed your weight down on him to stop his thrashing.

Your eyes opened. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you groaned at the stiffness in your back from your second night sleeping on the chair next to Osferth’s bed. Fingers deftly rubbed the back of your neck to soothe the pain that lingered. The sky was dark, you noted. Night had fallen. Two candles were lit in the room, basking it in a soft, comfortable glow.

“My lady,” Osferth’s gentle voice startled you. Your head whipped to look at him. “Though I could never repay you for your kindness, you need not waste your time and energy on me. Please.”

“Stop.” You raised a hand to silence Osferth. “Need I remind you that I am no lady. My name will do just fine.” You groaned as you stood, the joints of your spine popping as you extended your arms up in a deep stretch.

“But you are, my Lady,” Osferth groaned as he shifted in the bed uncomfortably. You took a few steps over to help, but he held his hand out to stop you. “You have done enough for me. Please, get some rest. You needn’t worry about me any longer.”

“So it seems.” A moment of silence passed between the both of you before you cleared your throat. “You must be hungry. I will see if I can scrounge anything from the kitchens.” You fled before he had a chance to respond.

Uhtred had left to go on a solo mission. He was adamant that whatever he had to do, he had to do it alone. Though it pained you to not be at his side, as you had sworn you would, you stayed put within the confines of Saltwic.

Osferth had been using the idle time to regain his strength, but the rest of you were going stir-crazy. You did your best to keep your distance from Osferth, more for your own sanity than anything else. You noticed his longing glances, and if you noticed them, then so did Finan and Sihtric. After a nearly successful pillow smothering attempt on Finan’s life, the pair kept their mouths shut regarding any good-natured teasing they threw your way.

It was late into the night during the seventh day of Uhtred’s absence that you sat in the hall before the fireplace. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving you to listen to the rain pitter across the high ceiling as it came down in torrents outside. A cup of ale was clutched in your hands, you felt the warmth of it settle in your belly as you sat on the floor with your back rested against the bench of the table behind you. A quilt was wrapped around your shoulders snugly, bringing a comfort that you longed for. This was the only time you truly got the peace you craved to do absolutely nothing. You didn’t think, you didn’t feel -you just existed and it was a reset you so desperately craved.

“May I?” Osferth’s soft voice broke your silence. Looking up, his face gave away nothing. You nodded, expecting him to sit upon the bench, but he gently lowered himself to the floor beside you with a grunt. When he got situated, you offered your cup to him. He thought for a moment before taking it, the tips of his fingers just brushing against yours as he took it from you. Osferth gulped a mouthful before handing it back to you, nodding in thanks. You set the cup between you before looking back into the fire, pulling the quilt tighter around your shoulders -painfully aware of just how close he sat beside you.

No man, Dane or Saxon, made you feel the way he did with a single glance. When you initially met the shy monk, you did not give him a second glance. He was -is- a holy man, and your past experiences with holy men hadn’t been great up until that point. Beocca excluded.

When Osferth insisted on joining your little rag-tag group, you had scoffed. He would be someone you’d have to constantly babysit as he had no experience with a sword. Why would he? He had God to protect him, you remember thinking ruefully. He took all of the teasing words you all threw at him and let them roll off his back with a grin, and against your will he had grown on you. All of you.

Osferth, with his kindness and willingness to learn and adapt, had become an integral piece of Uhtred’s group of warriors. He had found his place in a world that had shunned him since his birth. As time went on, he had gravitated towards you and all you taught him of wielding a weapon and survival. The once lanky young man had begun to fill out as his own strength grew.

It was noticeable enough for you to give him a second glance when he decided to shyly she’d his robes for the night while you, Osferth, and Finan were camping mid-journey the summer previous. The plains of his abdomen were grooved with muscle definition that was only exacerbated by the shadows the flames of the fire between you casted upon him. A cough from Finan broke your gaze and you didn’t think you blinked for the rest of the night as your brain tried to comprehend just what you were feeling.

You may as well have strapped yourself to a catapult and pulled the lever yourself, for it would’ve felt just as insane as you currently felt.

A monk, you thought to yourself. He wasn’t much of a monk anymore at that point, and he was even less one now.

You brought the edge of the quilt up to over your cheeks, hoping he didn’t catch on to you going through a silent crisis in his presence.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, my lady, I will take my leave and return your peace.” Osferth made to get up, but your quick hand stopped him before he made the effort to stand.

With just a single glance, it felt like you were bare before him.

“You do not make me uncomfortable, Osferth.” You decided to forego chastising him over calling you ‘my lady’ as it was a moot point. “Your presence is…comforting.” It was a half truth, not necessarily a lie. His presence was comforting, but your heart felt like it would beat straight through your chest.

“I am pleased to hear it.” He replied with a gentle grin as he looked down at you. He brought his right knee up so he could rest his forearms atop it comfortably.

You wondered what he was thinking in that moment. Did he come out of his room to see solace before the fire as you had? Did he hear you up and make the conscious decision to join you? His face gave away nothing as you looked at his profile as it glowed before the flames.

“May I ask you something, Osferth?” Your voice hasn’t reached above a faint whisper. The peace that settled between the both of you had calmed your heart of its reckless pounding, but you still craved just how intimate this felt.

“Anything, my lady.” His lips tilted at the corner facing you in an almost teasing fashion. You understood then that he continued to call you that because you got a rise out of it. He was teasing you.

“Do you fear me?” Your question hung in the air for a brief moment. Osferth, through his ever growing confidence, turned his head and locked his gentle eyes with yours. The glow of the fire before you illuminated both of your features, casting sharp shadows where the light of the flames did not touch.

“Would you think me weak if I said yes?” Osferth’s words were soft, as was his expression. You were the first to break contact, your eyes moving to the fire, then down to your hands, once more picking over the inked skin in your palm.

“No,” You breathed, looking back up to Osferth earnestly. “I have never thought you as weak, Osferth. Foolish in the beginning, perhaps, but never weak.” You licked your bottom lip in nervousness, your anxieties trying to take over. He chuckled breathily as he saw your foot shake anxiously. He let his leg fall flat next to your leg and tapped your shaking foot with his. You looked back to Osferth and he was already watching you.

It was strange for Osferth to see your stone facade crack. For the time he’d known you, up until very recently, you were unshakable. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what the glances you gave him meant. He knew why you were watching him in the battlefield that day, why you were there to pull him out. Why you had saved his life when he would have surely died otherwise. Osferth felt the bloom of affection swell in his chest. His longing wasn’t quite so…noticeable. Or so he thought. Finan and Uhtred’s hawk-like gazes caught every glance he threw in your direction, every proud look he graced you with. Osferth had eyes for you and only you, and you were too stuck in your own mind to see it.

You continued, “I do hope you understand that if there is ever a man to walk this realm without fear of me…it is you, Osferth.” You confessed. Osferth held his breath as he stared at you with his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

“Me?” He found the courage to speak. Emotions were swirling within him in a tsunami. The waves of possible rejection were receding, and hope surged forward in an unrelenting crash.

“Yes.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts as they fled your mind. “You are not like them, Osferth.” He knew the reference was to your companions and he couldn’t help but deflate just a little at your words. You still saw him as less than, he thought. The hope that had surged just moments prior had all but left as he thought on what you said.

Osferth was far from a true warrior, he’d admit, but he did his very best with each day to grow stronger, faster, and more cunning. Training alongside you, with your guidance, had pushed him to want to be the warrior that was worthy of just a glance from you, and he felt as if he had been stabbed through his heart to learn that it wasn’t enough.

“Though you try to be like them, I wish you wouldn’t.” Oh, he thought in confusion. You let a few more moments pass between you.

Osferth waited on baited breath for every word that left your lips. A sharp gasp left his lips as you brought a hand to his chest and pushed it against his heart gently. Oh, he realized. You could feel the beating of his heart increase instantly.

“There is something within you, Osferth. Something good -pure- that takes a hold of me in moments such as this.” Your voice cracked and Osferth saw tears line your kohl lined eyes as his hands came to cup over yours on his chest affectionately. “So close, yet just far enough that I cannot reach.”

“My Lady,” There wasn’t a teasing tilt of his lips as he said it.

“Do not, Osferth.” You begged, rolling your eyes up to stop the tears from falling. You tried to bring your hand back, but Osferth held true, not allowing you to retreat when you had given him a shred of a rope to grasp onto. His hands held yours to his chest with purpose, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

“It is there for you to take,” He offered humbly, eyes pleading with you to understand his words. He was yours, and would always be yours.

“You do not mean that.”

“I do,” He breathed your name “Before the eyes and ears of God, I speak only the truth. My heart is yours. It has been for some time.” You shook your head, turning away from Osferth and pulling your hand from him.

“A heart as pure as yours is deserving of more than I can give.” You reasoned.

“You do not know that.”

“I do.” You argued vehemently. “It is you who does not know whom you give your affects so freely to.” The quilt was wrapped around you once more as a form of protection.

“Do you hold affection for me?” Osferth boldly asked.

“You know I do. You wouldn’t be sitting here if you thought otherwise.”

“Then why do you not allow yourself to receive mine?”

“Because I have been tainted in ways you could never imagine.” Your voice rose. “While Uhtred was sold into slavery with a shipmaster, I was not so lucky.” Tears slipped from your eyes as you curled further into yourself.

“Is this why you flee from me? You are ashamed of something tragic that befell you? That was of no fault of your own?” Osferth’s gentle touch met your chin to tilt your head in his direction. A deep sadness flooded his eyes as your lip trembled. “Have you spoken to anyone about what happened to you?”

“Uhtred knows…but Lady Gisela was the only one to truly know what I went through.” Osferth’s heart cracked at the mention of Gisela. A truly kind woman who only treated those around her with respect unless given reason otherwise. She was sorely missed.

Osferth pulled you to him, slotting your cocooned body between his legs and held your back to his chest. You were careful of disturbing his still healing wound as Osferth’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly to him.

Osferth nestled his chin on your shoulder boldly. His lips were so close to your ear that you felt the vibrations as he spoke.

“I will take all that you will afford me and I will want for nothing more, my Lady. You will never bear this burden alone, so long as I live. I promise you this.”

“You would damn your soul?”

“I would ask for forgiveness, should he require it of me. God is forgiving. He is just. He is understanding…” Osferth looked into your eyes. “He would not turn me from you when it is He who led me on a path to you.”

One of your hands snaked out of the quilt and nudged itself between Osferth’s just over your chest. His fingers immediately intertwined with yours and he bravely kissed the side of your head, just above your ear. It was short and quick, but you felt like you were ascending.

“You would tempt it? With your God?” You questioned, turning your head ever so slightly to look at him.

“I would.” He replied without hesitation. His eyes lowered to your lips and he leaned down to rest his forehead against the side of yours.

“I would not ask this if you.” You whispered, your lips a hair’s width from his.

“Then do not ask.” Osferth closed the space and let his lips meet yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and intimate. Your hand untangled from his and found purchase on the column of his neck. His skin was soft and warm against your fingertips. His hands mirrored yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he could while his lips continued to take all they could from you.

Osferth could not believe the soft mewls you breathed against his open mouth, nor could he believe that this was truly happening. He was ready for the rug to be pulled out from beneath his, for his eyes to open from the dream he had so many times before where he confessed to you and caressed you into the late hours of the night.

You were the first to break free. Resting your forehead against his, both of you panted as you braved yourselves. Neither of you loosened your hold on one another as you caught your breath. Osferth pulled back just far enough to press a kiss between your brows. He let his lips linger for a moment before guiding your head down to rest on his chest.

Opening the quilt, you wrapped it around his torso with you sandwiched between. Not a single word was shared the remainder of the night as you both lulled to sleep. Osferth’s hands found themselves either nestled between your own or skimming up and down your back in comforting motions. By the time he closed his eyes, you were already asleep and the fire was dying down.

“Found ‘em.” Finan alerted Sihtric in a whisper as he rounded the table in the hall. He stared down at you and Osferth cradled in each others arms. Both early risers, you’d somehow slept through most of the morning and hadn’t moved as much as an inch in the night. Sihtric raised a dark brow at the scene before him when he stood next to Finan.

“Should we wake them?” Sihtric asked, looking to Finan.

“Nah, let’s just leave ‘em be.” He smiled conspiratorially at Sihtrid, who slowly mirrored his look. “There’ll be plenty of time for teasin’ when they decide to wake their lazy arses up.”