#volklana

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Oh my heart!!!!! It's so beautiful! So full of love! And all the small details you kept - like the cross she gave him.

You are such a brilliant writer. I read it with my breath withhold. Oh my! The love I have for this fictional man and the way you feed it! 😍😍😍 It's incredible!

Thank you, my dear! I almost can't believe it - I was just rambling in your DMs and you made this gem out of it!

Everything I Do. I Do It For You

Title Comes From This Song:

Fic Idea Curtesy of the ever amazing @whitedarkmoonflower : 💖💖

I was just dreaming of a story like Aramis und Anne just with Sihtric where Uhtred's pretty boys are tasked with safeguarding a princess (Alfred's daughter) and they are attacked and have to hide and ... you know what happens with Aramis and Anne in the monastery...

Warnings: Themes of domestic abuse. Violence and unwanted sexual comments/advances.

*Not as proof read as I would have liked*

The news from Kent left Aethelfaed reeling.

There had been a Danish incursion on the city of Canterbury, and the Lord, your husband had been too weak to banish them and was forced to concede some of his lands to the Danes, but to make matters worse it was being entirely blamed on you, her little sister.

“They are calling her Royal Whore,” she cried, pacing around the room and Uhtred reached out a hand to try and steady her, “What are we to do Uhtred?” she begged, biting the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit she had since she was a child.

“There can be no truth to it, Lady,” Uhtred reassured, “Y/n would never conspire with the Danes, she would never threaten Edward’s rule this way. She would not dishonour the memory of your Father.”

“We must go to her, we must do something!” she cried.

“You cannot Lady,” Aldhelm begged, “Mercia cannot be seen to interfere in this matter, it would be an attack of Kent’s autonomy, it would bring their fyrd’s upon us, it would mean war.”

“And so it should. They intend to put her sister to death,” Uhtred insisted and her face softened at him.

“Does my father’s name mean nothing?” she despaired, “She is a daughter of Alfred. Sister to the King of Wessex. My little sister,” her tears were flowing freely and both men wanted nothing more than to reach out and console her.

“I will go to Kent and I will retrieve her,” Uhtred promised and Aldhelm wilted,

“Uhtred you are too recognisable, and you are Edward’s man, this would be seen as Wessex interfering, and not on Edward’s orders.”

“He’s right,” Athelflaed cried, burying her head in her hands “She is lost to us.”

“I will go Lord,” Sihtric’s voice cut through the tension and everyone turned to face him “I will go and I will take her back safely Lady, upon my word, I will return her to you.”

“Sihtric,” Atheleflaed cried and sprung forward, not caring for etiquette or order and pulled him into a strong gripped embrace.

“You will be killed if you are caught,” she all but whispered to him.

“If you please, the Lady Y/N has always been kind to me and I would not see her abandoned to this fate,” he replied and she smiled sadly at him through her tears.

“There is an abandoned monastery along the old Roman road,” Uhtred instructed as Sihtric was readying his horse “If you can get to her we will meet you there,” Uhtred promised, grasping the young Dane by the back of his neck in affection.

“I will not fail you, Lord,” he promised.

“You never have!” Uhtred confirmed and the two embraced in promise that they would see each other soon. 

It did not take long for him to find you, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you when he slit the throat of the man standing guard outside your room of confinement, pushing the heavy door open to find you, hair down in loose curls, not plaited in the way he was used to seeing you and in nothing but your night shift, your lip was split and your cheek was marked red where you had been struck. Your hands were tied, your eyes wide and wild as if you were expecting someone else, another tormentor he thought distastefully. 

“Sihtric,” you gasped, frozen in place, taking him in as if he were an apparition of the Holy Ghost before you.

“Can you walk my Lady? We do not have much time.”

“Yes, yes!” you promised, running towards him, and you ran around corners, pressing your backs against stone walls whenever you heard voices, and continuing down countless stone steps until you were out into the freedom of the night air, down into the courtyard and Sihtric led you through a crack in the wall where he had left his horse, hoisted you up and kicked off into a gallop, away into the night.

The bells began to ring in the city behind you and Sihtric rode his horse for as long as could until the horse threatened to collapse from exhaustion.

It killed him to do it, because he loved the mare and she had been nothing but loyal to him but he knew he had to set her loose as soon as he deemed he was far enough away to maintain the lead, to avoid being tracked. 

He led you into the forest and filled his water pouch and pressed it to your lips, which you gulped gratefully.

He took his dagger and sliced at the ropes binding your hands, sighing when he saw the angry red skin where the rope had burned your wrists. 

You stood facing him for a moment before you thrust yourself into his arms, crying freely as his strong arms held you in place.

“I knew you would come for me. I knew it would be you.” 

“I promised I would always protect you,” he whispered into your hair and you pulled away to look into his mismatched eyes.

Sihtric had saved your life once, years ago, before you had been sent off like a brood mare to marry that Lord in Kent, when you and the Lady Aelswith had been set upon by a hungry mob, he had picked you up, your gown in tatters and carried you to safety, and he still wore the silver chain you had given him as recompense. It was the Christian Cross, he did not believe in your nailed god but when you had placed it around his neck and promised him it would keep him safe he did not have the heart to deny you.

And throughout the many battles he had survived since then, he would never admit to the amount of times he had pulled the chain from his undershirt and held it tightly until the sharp edges of the cross hurt his palm. 

“It will protect you as you have always protected me,” you whispered to him, looking up at him through your lashes and his heart had all but stopped in your chest. 

There had been something between you since then, some unspoken, unacted upon ‘thing,’ but it was there nonetheless, and you knew that Sihtric would lay down his life for you if it came to it.

He had watched you from the shadows for years, all those times Uhtred spent around your Father, around Aethelflaed, he was always there watching you with those huge beautiful eyes and the ‘thing’ had always been there. 

Sihtric would have walked through the night, following the river and the bright light of the full moon, until it led him to the old Roman road but he could see that you were exhausted and you were beginning to shake. He had ridden for hours and he suspected that those searching for you would be heading towards Winchester, not expecting you to be heading towards Aylesbury and especially not along the old Roman road. Or so he hoped so least. 

“We will rest here,” he finally whispered into the night, you had come along a little creek in the river and you both climbed down the bank where the overgrowth of roots and brambles allowed the perfect hiding spot, and he parted the thorns with his sword for you to crawl in and he followed behind.

He shrugged off his riding cloak and wrapped you up in it, rubbing his hands along your arms to try and warm you up, but your teeth still chattered.

“May I?” he asked and you nodded your head as he pulled you onto his lap and closed his arms around your body.

It was inappropriate and it was brazen, but it would be of no use if he carried your body back to Aylesbury because you had frozen to death in the night.

Your bare feet were like blocks of ice to touch and he fumbled with his sheepskin boots, pulling them off to get to his yarn socks, that he pulled off his feet and placed on yours, pulling his boots back on over his bare feet.

You thanked him profusely and he understood that you were ashamed of your predicament, you had lived a life of privilege and you were not adapted to the elements, Sihtric on the other hand had slept outside both willingly and as punishment more times than he could count. 

You were fighting sleep and he squeezed you lightly “It’s alright Lady, close your eyes and rest. I will keep watch and you will need your strength for the journey tomorrow.” 

Your head finally slumped against his chest and your breath evened out indicating that you had finally given in to sleep. 

When you woke in the morning, Sihtric was absent, so you ventured out to find him standing knee high in the flowing waters of the creek, catching fish with his bare hands and throwing them onto the bank. You stood for a moment watching him in silence, his naked torso gleamed under the morning sun and you watched his muscles contort and move with his efforts , until a glint of silver caught your eye.

“You still wear it?” you said softly, referencing the silver cross chain around his neck, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Yes, Lady,” he replied, taking it in his hands, and looking at you with such honesty it made you want to cry “It keeps me safe.”

“Sihtric, you do not have to call me Lady. Please call me by my name.”

He looked at you shyly for a moment before nodding and continuing his work.

He deemed it safe to light a little fire in the morning sun, and you watched him gut and cook the fish, gladly eating what he provided for you, and when the fire was safely put out, you once again began your travels towards the old Roman road. 

The sun was its highest peak and you were beginning to lag behind him a little when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of hooves.

“Quick, quick,” he ushered, grabbing your hand and breaking out into a sprint pulling you behind him, down into some marshes and he pulled you down.

You were distraught, “Please. Please Sihtric don’t let them take me back there.”

“On my life, I will keep you safe,” he promised and you buried your head in his chest as he shushed you, your breathing was quick and ragged and he placed a gentle hand over your mouth, and he squeezed his own eyes closed at the voices on the road, he begged his gods and your nailed god to let them pass on. 

“I get first go of her when we catch her,” one of them shouted obnoxiously. “If she’s good enough for Danish cock, she’s good enough for mine.”

His friends roared with laughter and you felt the blood rush to your face, you would have recognised that voice anywhere, the head of your husband’s house guard, you were still carrying the marks to your face from his last visit to your chambers.

“Do you think her brother will interfere?” another voice asked.

“Edward is an aresling. Alfred would have had our Lord’s head on a spike for ever accusing his daughter of such a thing.”

“Well maybe Edward knew she was a whore, that’s why he gave her away so willingly.”

A chorus of laughter rang out, but Sihtric sighed in relief as it moved out of earshot, they were moving onwards.

But he was startled to feel his hand was growing wet and only then did he realise that you were crying, and your teardrops were splashing onto the gentle hand he still had over your mouth.

He cupped your face gently until your ashamed eyes met his, “I will never, ever let them have you or hurt you, ever again,” he whispered earnestly and you cried a few more moments before you gathered yourself enough to nod.

The road was no longer safe and so you would make the rest of the journey through the marshes and trees following alongside the road. 

You hadn’t said a word since hearing your husband’s men’s taunts earlier and Sihtric had no idea how to break the silence, so he opted instead to make sure to share his water with you, and because you were only in socks, he carried you over the heaviest parts of marsh or mud and you thanked him profusely each time but said no more than that..

As darkness was beginning to swoop in, Sihtric was relieved to see the monastery's large presence begin to come into sight.

“We’re almost there my Lady,” he told you and you smiled weakly at him, and accepted his outstretched hand as he pulled you over some brambles. When he went to take his hand back, you held it tighter in yours and so he let you keep a hold of his hand in yours as you walked the remaining distance.

He had caught a rabbit earlier in the day and immediately set about lighting a small fire to cook it upon.

He called you for food and you were ringing your hair out, you had gone down to the stream behind to bathe and he wanted to scold you, tell you how dangerous that had been, but seeing as you were safe in front of him now, it would have been pointless. 

He tried not to laugh as you scoffed down your food, but he had known just how hungry the day’s travel had been for him and he was used to it, you on the other hand had lived a privileged life and never known real hunger.

As it came time to hunker down for the night you came and stood before Sihtric, who was adding more wood to the fire.

“Those men were right earlier,” you told him, breaking your hours long silence, and Sihtric shook his head in disagreement.

“Not about me being a whore. But, about Edward giving me away.”

Sihtric moved closer so he was standing directly in front of you. He too had gone to bathe in the stream and his curls were loose and damp.

“I was given to Godwin as a consolation for the death of his brother Sigebriht at the battle of Bendanford. If the men of Kent had not shown up when they did- Edward’s men were outnumbered, who knows what would have happened.”

Sihtric had fought in the battle of Bedanford and remembered all too well the lines breaking before the men of Kent turned up.

“But he was kind to you, before all this? The Lord Godwin?” he asked softly.

You smiled sadly and in the glow of the flames Sihtric could see the tears in your eyes.

“Not once. From the moment we married he was heavy handed and cruel and on our wedding night I was sure I would die, but Athelflaed assured me that was a husband’s way and that I must endure it for the sake of Wessex, and so I did.”

Sihtric scrunched his hand into a fist in rage with what you were telling him but he let you continue.

“None of it is true, what I am accused of. I never lay with another man except my husband in all my life. I never conspired with the Danes. I found correspondence between the Lord Sigebright and my own uncle Aethelwold who were conspiring to seize the throne from Edward when he was Edward Rex, before the battle of Bedandord, and my own husband has intentions of doing the same, and so he discredits me with these lies so nobody will believe the truth of what I have uncovered and once I am dead he will be free to marry his mistress. She is the one he has always loved, who has carried the children he refuses to denounce, and who sleeps in the Lord’s bedchambers, while I was confined to the room you found me in.” 

Sihtric could feel the tears in his own eyes as he watched you helplessly.

“Tomorrow Lord Uhtred will arrive and we will take you to your sister and you will never have to go back there again,” he promised, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Then it is our last night together,” you whispered sadly and he nodded.

“My whole life I have been honour bound to serve my duty. To serve Wessex. It is true I have lived a privileged life, but I have never been free. I have never known love. Sihtric you are a kind and gentle man and any woman would be privileged to be loved by you, please,” you begged, taking his hand in yours. “If tonight is to truly be our last night, let me be loved by you, as I have loved you from afar for all these years.”

Sihtric’s face crumpled with emotion and he surged forward to capture your lips with his.

He worshipped every inch of your skin, kissing you in places you had never been kissed before. Pulling you apart with his hands and tongue before he had even pressed himself inside of you and you looked like a goddess underneath the glow of the fire.

“I should not be allowed to look upon you, let alone touch you,” he whispered.

You never knew love could feel this way. You were used to pain and punishment and being used for the satisfaction of your husband who never looked upon your face, you kept expecting Sihtric to flip you over and press your face against the wood, but he commanded you to keep your eyes on him at all times, and when you took the cross necklace in your hands and pulled him to you to kiss his lips he came inside you, collapsing down on top you, arms swooping underneath you to pull you to him, and tears slipped down your cheeks to know this would be the last time you had him like this.

“I have loved you all this time,” he admitted into your hair, he had pulled you close, encapsulating you in his strong arms, so that you may fall asleep together, and you snuggled in tight to his warmth as sleep began to overtake you.

“As I have loved you,” you replied drowsily. 

The next day Uhtred, Finan and Osferth arrived with horses and food, which you and Sihtric gladly ate before packing up and beginning the trek back to Aylesbury

When you stopped to make camp for the night, it was Osferth who offered you some furs and carried you over some stale bread and cheese whilst Sihtric was deep in conversion with Uhtred and Finan.

“Thank you Osferth,” you told him kindly.

“You know who I am?” he asked gently and you looked at him sadly and smiled before reaching out to grasp his arm “You are my brother,” you told him honestly and he sniffed and looked away.

“Your bastard brother,” he said bitterly, although it was not aimed at you.

“Am I your sister?” you asked him, and he turned to look at you with soft eyes, “You are.”

“Well then,” you said, squeezing his arm gently, “You are my brother.”

You broke some of the bread he had given you and offered it to him, and the tears in his eyes spoke volumes about how much this meant to him.

That night Sihtric snuck into your arms again, as Finan kept watch and you fell asleep once more in his embrace.

Finan, looked on in sympathy, they had all seen the way you two were around each other and he knew it could only end in pain for his Danish friend. 

When you finally reached Mercia Aethelflaed nearly knocked the wind from your lungs with the embrace she gave you, and she turned your face in her hands to examine your cut lip and marked face, 

She provided you with clean clothes and her servants washed you in warm water and when you finally joined her for dinner, Sihtric’s eyes were immediately on you.

When you finally relayed the whole story to her about your uncle’s betrayal and your husband’s own plans with the Danes her face was grim.

“Maybe we can convince him to accept a divorce and the promise of no interference from Wessex and Mercia?” Aldhelm suggested “If Edward will agree to it.”

“Edward is proud,” Uhtred offered “But if he knew the whole story, he might.”

The doors to the Great Hall suddenly opened with a bang and a group of men marched their way inside led by none other than your brother and following behind was your husband.

“Is she here?” Edward demanded, eyes searching the table until his eyes landed on yours and the fury within them made you shrink.

“Edward!” Aethelflaed pleaded, affronted by his lack of regard in her hall.

“Be silent you!” he spat “My own sister commits treason and the other steals her away from her husband in the night in an attempt to thwart justice. And not one person thought to inform their King.”

Everyone was standing and Sihtric was beside you in a heartbeat.

“I am not going back!” you cried and Edward’s nose flared “You will do as you are told!”

“You are in my country,” Athelflaed warned “And you will not march into my hall and make demands. We will talk about this calmly and rationally.” 

Edward banged his fists on the table causing Athelflaed to jump “There is no discussion to be had,she is going back to her husband to answer for her crimes against Kent and Wessex.”

You swiped Sihtric’s dagger from its pelt and held the blade to your throat, “I will end my life here of my own volition, but I will never return to him.”

“No!” Aethelflaed and Sihtric begged you to put the blade down.

“Do it and be done,” your husband sneered and Edward regarded him from the corner of his eye.

“Everyone out! Leave me to talk to my sisters. Out!” he commanded.

You lowered the dagger slowly and Sihtric took it from you with shaking hands and wide eyes. 

“Sihtric,” Uhtred called but he remained frozen to his spot in front of you.

“Sihtric,” Aethelflaed said a little more softly “She will be safe,” Sihtric nodded slowly before making to depart with Uhtred and his men.

“You too!” Sihtric spat at your husband who had remained as if he was exempt from Edward’s order.

“Sihtric, you need to cool it,” Uhtred warned his friend who was glaring daggers at your turd of a husband “You are too close to her, you will give yourself away and put her in more danger.”

Sihtric’s face pulled up into a frown and Uhtred softened, “She is being accused of sleeping with Danes, that is a lie, but do not make her accusations become true by exposing your love now!” 

Uhtred was right, but that did not make it any easier for Sihtric to swallow.

“Where did you find the letter?” Edward asked, resting his chin on his joined hands.

“It was buried between the pages of the Lord Sigebriht’s bible,” you all but whispered, “Father’s bible was stripped from me when I was banished from Godwin’s chambers, I requested another and that was the one brought to me.”

“And Godwin’s collaboration with the Danes, how did you learn this?”

“The head of his household guard used to come to my chambers drunk to torment me. One night he came boasting that I was to be given to the Danish leader in exchange for free passage through Kent into Wessex. My husband has wanted an excuse to rid of me so he may marry his mistress, she is pregnant with another of his children as we speak.”

Edward slumped down into his chair and ran his hands over his face.

“The Danes were in Canterbury upon his request, they did not attack of their own volition,” Aethelflaed added.

“Brother,” you cried crouching down beside him and taking your hands in his “When have you ever known me to be dishonest. Have I not always done my duty for crown and country?”

Edward sighed and nodded, running a hand over your marked cheek

“From the day we were married he has hurt me, belittled me and defiled me but I stayed for my duty to you as your sister, and for our Father’s vision of England. I have never asked you for anything but now I am pleading before you and God, release me from that man. Grant him divorce so he may marry his mistress and I will stay here in Mercia and serve our sister, or I will go to Abbess Hild and take the vows, but I beg do not send me back to that man.”

“You would take the vows?” Edward asked sadly, “Commit your life to the monastery?”

“If that is what it takes,” you answered truthfully. You briefly thought about Sihtric standing outside the door and your heart sank, you knew there was no reality on Earth where you might be allowed to be together, and you had already asked enough from your brother this night.

“Will you ask Lord Uhtred to return,” he asked and you went to fetch the Lord.

“Godwin cannot go unpunished,” Aethelflaed hissed, “As long as he remains Kent will always offer free passage of the Danes into Wessex.”

“Agreed,” Edward nodded and then Uhtred was by his side.

“What would you suggest to do in my shoes Lord Uhtred?” he asked and Uhtred considered his words for a moment.

“You must be seen to do justice Lord King,” he replied “If he tells lies and he communicates with enemies perhaps removing him of his tongue would forbid him from ever doing this kind of damage again.” 

“My Father let my uncle live when he should have put a knife through his heart.”

“He should have,” Uhtred agreed “But it was his poisoned tongue that did the damage, it is that that should have been cut from him, not an eye.” 

“Have my household guard seize the Lord Godwin,” Edward instructed Uhtred, “There is to be a trial in the morning.” 

You dropped to your knees and buried your head in your brother's hands as you thanked him over and over and over again

You were not taking Sihtric’s departure well. You could not eat and many nights you found yourself laying in bed, candles burning down to the wick as you stared up at the ceiling in tears.

You had gone to see him the night before he was to depart Mercia, and even if you kissed him a thousand times it would never have been enough.

“I would marry you,” he had whispered into the night even though you both knew that it was impossible and you took his hand to your chest so that he may feel your heart beating.

“As long as I have breath in my lungs, my heart belongs to you and you only,” you promised him.

And the next day you watched him ride away with grace, holding back the tears until you could slink away to your room and you thought then that your tears would become an ocean. 

You were grateful to Edward for allowing you to stay in Mercia with your sister because at least you had her comfort and the company of little Aelfwynn to occupy some of your lonely days.

“She is a wretch without him,” Aethelflaed whispered one day to Aldhelm, who looked on in sympathy at your plight.

And time passed by in a haze of filling your days surrounded by those you loved and endless nights staring up at the wooden beams of your room, remembering what it was to have Sihtric’s arms around you.

And then the sickness came, you could not move more than a few paces without vomiting and you could barely hold any of your meals down and Aethelflaed was so concerned she called for both a laece to come and partake in the letting of your blood and a healer to give you herbs in an attempt to make you well again.

“I refuse to lose you now Sister,” she had cried over your sleeping form whilst the laece attached the leeches to your arm.

It was however the healer who discovered what illness you were plagued with; you were with child.

“The child is Sihtric’s?” Aethelflaed asked softly when you were finally able to make it out of bed and all you could do was stare at your feet as you nodded solemnly. 

“The child will be born a bastard unless you claim it is Godwin’s,” she said downcast.

“No,” you cried hysterically, hand instinctively flying to your stomach “That man can have no claim to my child!”

“Y/n,” she hissed. “Don’t you understand unless you do this your child will be sent to the monasteries to be raised as a bastard, you will be forbidden to see them, our Mother will ensure to it.”

“I will marry him,” you pleaded. “He said that he would marry me. I want to go to him. Let me marry him, please Aethelflaed I beg of you.”

“You cannot,” she cried, “My darling girl, the daughter of Alfred cannot marry a Dane, let alone bear his child.”

She took your hand and directed her gaze towards her own little girl who was playing unaware “I know this better than anyone.”

You allowed her to pull you to her as you cried helplessly upon her shoulder.

You were standing under the summer sun watching Aelfwynn play, her laughter filled the air and you watched her dance under sunbeams, spinning wildly and you suddenly felt a jolt of lightning shoot through your body and the thought of the little life growing inside you.

Your baby would be half of Sihtric. Testimony to the love you had shared for years now, and even if it boiled down to just that one night of passion it had meant more to you than any other interaction your whole life.

You thought about Osferth. About Edward's two small children, denounced and forced to grow up in religious orders away from their parents, and about Sihtric himself, all children who had never known love, only punishment for the actions of their parents and your mind was made up.

If there was punishment to come, if it meant forever to be disowned by your family, to never speak to your own mother again, then you would endure it. You would receive the punishment so that your own child would grow up in a house where they knew they were loved and even though it would kill you to walk away from your sister, you knew you had to go to Sihtric.

You left in the night with nothing but the clothes upon your back, and you rode for three days in your condition until you tracked him down.

When you broke the news he fell upon his knees and placed his head upon your stomach, his hands rubbing the swell of skin there and he was crying.

“I have nothing to offer you both,” he cried and you carded your fingers through his hair.

“All we need is your love,” you promised him.

“Y/n you have lived a life of privilege, all I have is a tiny home, I am not a rich man you will not have the riches you are accustomed to.”

“Sihtric, I have known privilege my whole life and none of it matters a wit to how you make me feel, I would rather have nothing with you than everything without you.”

He rose and cupped your face, eyes swimming in emotion “Your family will disown you.”

“Yes,” you replied but you had made your peace with that, “Initially, but this too will pass and I know Aethelflaed will never truly turn her back on me, my Mother however, I know she will be lost to me.”

Sihtric swiped his thumb over your cheek and his eyes darted down to your lips.

“I am the most selfish man in the world to allow you to do this but I am running out of will to try and talk you into walking away. I have loved you for as long as I can remember,” he whispered.

“So stop trying to send me away,” you laughed and he laughed a short breathy laugh.

“You know. Surely you must know, that everything I do, I do it for you. For your happiness. For your protection.”

“And I appreciate it but Sihtric you cannot change my mind on this. My heart is set on you.” 

Uhtred damn near had a stroke when the two of you went before him in the morning to ask for permission to marry.

“You will forever be at the loss of your family,” he tried to reason and you smiled softly at Osferth.

“Not all of my family, I have a brother who was also ostracised and he has turned out just fine. If he will have me as his sister, I will not be alone.”

“Always,” he smiled, cheeks tinged pink.

“Well then, not all of my family,” you confirmed.

“Aethelflaed will have me murdered,”Uhtred protested.

“She will forgive you as she always does,” you remained steadfast.

“The Lady Aelswith-”

“-Has stripped enough children away from loving parents, she will not be taking my child away unless it is from my dead breast.”

“Sihtric?” Uhtred pleaded, begging his friend to talk some sense.

“It has been her from the moment I laid eyes upon her Lord,” he said and Uhtred had no choice but to relent, for he himself had always been free to follow his own heart, Isolde, Gisela and Aethelflaed, how could he in good conscience deny you both your chance and so he consented.

And so you married.

In time you would carry three more children for Sihtric who remained the light of your whole life.

You were happier in this part of life that you had ever been before, even if you never got to make amends with Edward before he died and even if Aethelflaed had to meet you in secret before she too passed away.

Sometimes in the middle of the night Sihtric would whisper into the darkness asking if you ever regretted your decision and your answer always remained the same.

Never, not once.

Tagging:

@canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

@troyottonick @alexagirlie

a-beaverhausen nebulamorada izzydlb knight-of-flowerss

justcuriousandbored

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Forever mine

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: I'm not gonna lie this didn't come easy but I'm glad I managed to write it. It's somewhat like a first step back to writing and it's S2 Sihtric again as he is my absolute comfort character. @volklana it's for you darling for inspiring me to write again.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Sihtric being a sweetheart as always

Summary: A young Dane awakens something long buried in you, but the truth threatens to shatter your stolen moments. Can love survive built on lies?

Word Count: 7,8 K

Pain had always been a constant in Sihtric’s life—a relentless reminder that he was still alive. He had learned to endure it, to push it aside and keep moving. But now, with every laboured step, he knew it was different. A heavy grunt escaped his lips as he stumbled, the growing heaviness in his limbs warning him that the injury was far worse than he’d initially thought.

Warm, sticky blood trickled through his fingers as he pressed his hand harder against the wound in his side, trying to staunch the flow. The gash throbbed with a fiery intensity, each pulse sending fresh waves of agony through his body.

The scouting mission had gone terribly wrong, and he had only himself to blame.

Slipping away from the camp, determined to prove he was the best scout among them, had been reckless. But he wanted – no, he needed – to prove himself to his new lord, to show his worth, to show he was more than just a follower, more than a shadow.

Yes, he had found the Danes, but they had found him too. Now, the burning pain in his side served as a cruel reminder of his foolishness. 

Each step harder than the last, the forest around him slowly turned into a blur of green and shadows as his vision dimmed. Sihtric clenched his jaw, forcing himself forward – if he could just make it back to camp, if he could just hold on a little longer. 

Was he even heading in the right direction?

Sihtric stumbled, his legs barely able to hold his weight, and this time, he couldn't catch himself. He crashed to the ground, the thick moss cushioning his fall, but the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side forced a strangled moan from his clenched teeth.

He lay there for a moment, sprawled on his back, chest heaving. Above him, the thick canopy of leaves let in slivers of golden light, the first signs of dawn breaking through.

The sun was rising, marking the beginning of a new day, a day he might not live to see the end of.

Yet, he felt no regret.

Even now, with life draining from his body, he would make the same choice again. If this was where it ended—alone in a forest, bleeding out into the moss and leaves—so be it.

He had chosen this path.

For the first time in his life, he had given his oath freely, not out of fear or obligation, but out of loyalty and honour. He wanted to serve, to be worthy of Uhtred’s trust, to prove that he deserved his place, that Uhtred had made the right decision accepting him. That was worth any pain, any price.

His vision blurred, but Sihtric kept his eyes fixed on the shifting patterns of light above, with a shuddering breath he rolled over and slowly forced himself up on his knees.

He had no intention of dying here, not yet. He still had something to prove.

There it was: the small, crooked house that resembled a giant mushroom, leaning precariously against the mighty oak tree beside it.

The villagers called it the Witch's Lair. The old house greeted you silently, as it always did, the only constant in your ever-changing life.

Perched on the outskirts of the village, right at the forest’s edge, the house was hidden from sight by a tangle of towering trees and dense bushes.

It had stood empty for years, and no one could remember who had last lived there. Its roof was thick with moss, the window shutters hung crooked, some hinges rusted and loose, and the steps leading to the entrance were so rotten they had collapsed the first time you set foot on them.

You remembered every word of the gruesome tales whispered around the village fires—the stories of the witch who had lived in the house, stealing children and casting curses on anyone who dared to approach.

They said her ghost still haunted the place, luring in unsuspecting travellers and never letting them leave. On nights of the full moon, it was said you could hear their cries, calling for help that would never come.

No one dared to approach the cursed house, let alone step inside. Perhaps that was the very reason you had chosen it as your safe haven, your refuge.

This was the one place no one would ever dare to look for you. Of that, you were sure. Yet, as you approached, the house looked so peaceful, so calm, almost as if it were inviting you in.

You pressed your palm against the weathered wood of the outer wall, feeling its roughness under your skin, and listened to the quiet.

The sun hung high overhead, but its light barely penetrated the thick canopy of trees that loomed over the house like ancient guardians. Their tangled branches stretched out, like strong veiny arms, casting long shadows and shielding the house from the outside world.

A strange sense of peace settled over you as you pushed open the door. It creaked loudly in protest, a long, drawn-out whine that echoed in the stillness but yielded to your touch.

For a fleeting moment, you wished the stories were true—that you could disappear behind these doors and never have to face the world again.

Inside, you moved with practised ease, avoiding the sagging floorboards that threatened to collapse underfoot. You crossed the dimly lit room, heading for the large, dusty cupboard by the window.

It held your most cherished possession: an old, leather-bound Bible, the only thing you had managed to save from the fire that had consumed your home, your past, your life.

The weight of the book in your hands was familiar, a comfort that pulled you back to memories of a time before everything had changed. You held it close, the leather cool against your skin, savouring the past swirl around you – a fleeting, almost forgotten feeling of a home, of a place to belong to. 

But today, something felt different.

A faint sound reached your ears—a muffled moan, barely audible, coming from the other room.

You froze, your heart pounding, a chill running down your spine. Your legs felt weak, as if rooted to the spot, even though every instinct screamed at you to run.

“Who’s there?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling in the silence, yet the sound hung in the air, sharp and intrusive, like a blade slicing through the stillness, violating the house's sacred peace.

There was no answer.

Just silence, thick and suffocating.

A shaft of light broke through the dust-laden air as you placed the Bible on the table by the window. The book landed with a dull thud, and at that precise moment, you heard it again—a moan, clearer this time, unmistakable.

Panic thundered in your mind, urging you to run, to flee before it was too late. But instead, to your own surprise, you turned and headed directly toward the other room, the source of the sound.

The deafening cry you let out as the mountain of blankets on the bed suddenly came to life, sprang to its feet, and tried to grasp your arm, would have made anyone in the village run for their lives. But here, in the eerie silence of the old house, it only seemed to echo back at you, swallowed by the dark, empty rooms as you fought to pull away.

You drove your fist into the stranger’s stomach with all the strength your fragile frame could muster.

He doubled over, and you yanked your arm free, sprinting towards the door.

Behind you, there was a loud thud as his body hit the floor, followed by an agonised moan.

“Please, help me,” the stranger’s voice, unusually soft and melodic, was laced with desperation, making you stop and turn back.

The crouched figure on the floor was a young warrior, clearly a Dane judging by his distinctive haircut and clothing.

As your eyes widened with growing fear, you took in the scene: his hands pressed tightly against his side, his face contorted with pain. He made no effort to stand.

“Please…” His whisper trailed off into a groan.

Driven by an inexplicable urge, you took a cautious step toward him.

“I’m no threat. I will not harm you. Please, help me!” Each word came out with difficulty, mingled with ragged breaths. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his body trembled.

You crouched down, raising your hand slowly.

The young Dane flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but the movement only made him wince in pain. His eyes—one a striking blue, the other a deep brown—watched your hand with a mix of fear and uncertainty as you gently placed your palm on his forehead.

It was burning hot.

“We need to get you back into bed,” you said with unexpected certainty, surprising even yourself.

There was no rational reason to help someone who might, at the next opportunity, return to burn down your village. Your mind screamed to run and alert the others, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Hold on to me,” you murmured, slipping the stranger's arm around your shoulders as you tried to help him to his feet.

Each step drew a muffled whine from the young Dane. He struggled to keep up, dragging his feet with great effort, his breaths growing more laboured with each movement.

He collapsed onto the bedside and sank back into the blankets, exhausted.

Your eyes wandered over his lean, almost gaunt frame, the muscular arms exposed by his sleeveless leather armour, and his strikingly handsome, youthful face.

What was he doing here, in your secret hideout?

A pained groan pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes drawn to the blood staining the blankets.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” you said, already moving toward the door.

You chuckled at your own foolishness.

“As if he has a choice in his condition,” you muttered to yourself.

The hearth hadn’t been used in ages, and it was a miracle no birds had nested in the chimney. After a few failed attempts, you finally managed to light a fire, and soon the water in the kettle began to bubble.

Finding clean rags proved to be more of a challenge. You’d decided against returning to the village to avoid awkward questions and there was in fact no time for that, which left you with only one option—to sacrifice your underskirt.

You returned to the room, your makeshift rags in hand. The young Dane was still lying on the bed, his breathing ragged and uneven. His eyes met yours, filled with pain but also a hint of trust, as if he had decided to place his fate in your hands.

“We need to get you out of this armour,” you said softly, kneeling beside him.

His face tightened in a grimace, but he nodded, his jaw set in determination.

Gingerly, you began to unbuckle the leather straps of his armour, your fingers moving quickly yet carefully with a practised ease. Each movement was met with a wince or a sharp intake of breath from him, but he made no sound.

You bit your lip as you peeled back his tunic, revealing the wound. A deep gash ran along his side, the skin jagged and torn. Blood oozed slowly from it, staining his skin and pooling onto the bed.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned, your voice trembling slightly.

He merely nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a steady gaze.

You cleaned the wound as best as you could, using the rags and hot water from the kettle. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, and his breathing grew more laboured, but he didn’t flinch. He endured it silently, and you could only marvel at the self-restraint the young Dane showed, holding himself with a stoic resolve and refusing to cry out.

Next came the stitching.

You had never imagined that your sewing kit, meant for mending your best dress—now faded and threadbare—would be used for something like this. But here you were.

You threaded the needle with steady hands, even as your heart pounded in your chest. You had never done this before, but now was not the right time for uncertainty. 

The first stitch drew a low hiss from his lips, his eyes squeezing shut. You kept going, each pull of the thread through his skin accompanied by a muffled groan or a shuddering breath. He clenched his fists, gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white, but he didn’t move, didn’t protest.

Minutes passed, feeling like hours, until finally, the wound was closed.

You wiped away the last traces of blood, bandaging his side as carefully as you could. He was sweating, his face pale, his eyes glazed with pain, but still, he managed to look at you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

As the words left his lips, his eyes rolled back, fluttering closed, and he collapsed against the pillows, losing consciousness.

You sat back, releasing a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and your hands shook slightly, adrenaline still coursing through you. 

What on earth were you doing?

The thought pierced through your mind, sharp and unrelenting. This was madness—helping a wounded Dane, an enemy.

And yet, as you watched his chest rise and fall, the tension slowly leaving his chiselled, muscular frame, you couldn’t deny the strange sense of relief that washed over you. Against all reason, you felt a flicker of accomplishment, knowing you had saved his life, at least for now. 

None of it made any sense.

The moment he opened his eyes, Sihtric’s first instinct was to run, but his body refused to cooperate. His limbs felt as if they were filled with lead, collapsing under him after just a few steps.

Memories returned slowly, emerging from the fog clouding his mind like fragmented images.

He had been injured, certain he was going to die.

The solitary house on the edge of the forest had seemed like a possible refuge, even though it looked empty and abandoned. As his strength faded and the cold seeped under his skin, the bed with its old, tattered blankets had seemed so inviting.

He heard footsteps approaching and turned his head towards the sound. His eyes found you—the face he recognized now.

The beautiful, slightly pale face, the gentle voice, the big, fearful eyes brimming with determination and warmth. He remembered the way your fingers had trembled as you held the needle. He remembered everything, yet none of it made sense.

Why had you saved him? A Dane, a stranger, an enemy. And yet here you were, holding a steaming bowl in your hands, concern evident in your eyes.

“Take it easy,” you said with a soft smile, one that made Sihtric feel like he was losing himself in its warmth. “You need to eat to regain your strength. Let me help you.”

As much as Sihtric hated to admit it, he was in no condition to even hold the bowl himself. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he accepted your help, allowing you to feed him. 

The real trial, however, came when you returned with clean wraps, clearly determined to change his bandages.

Sihtric's eyes widened as you approached, a wave of discomfort washing over him.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said quickly, his voice betraying a hint of panic.

He tried to sit up straighter, but his body protested with a sharp jolt of pain, forcing him to lie back down.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your hand gently resting on his forehead to check for fever.

“I’m called Sihtric, lady,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

He felt himself melt into the unexpectedly comforting tenderness of your touch. It had been so long—he couldn’t even remember the last time someone had touched him with such gentleness and care. 

“Nice to meet you, Sihtric,” you replied, as simple as that.

No questions, no suspicious inquiries, just another soft smile and eyes filled with compassion, tinged with a hint of sadness.

If not for the persistent pain in his side, Sihtric might have believed this was all a dream.

“It’s alright,” you replied softly, setting the linens down beside the bed.

“You need proper care if you’re going to heal.” your voice was strangely calm as you furrowed an eyebrow as if sensing his unease although you couldn’t quite grasp the reason for it.

Sihtric swallowed hard, his gaze shifting away.

“I can manage,” he insisted, though the strain in his voice betrayed his struggle.

You sighed, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“I know you’re strong, Sihtric. But even the strongest need help sometimes.”

You moved closer, your hands reaching out to remove the old, bloodstained bandages.

His body tensed, and he mustered enough strength to grasp your hand, holding it tightly.

“Why are you so kind to me? Why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice low as he drew a deep, shaky breath. “I could have been your enemy.”

The question caught you off guard. You tilted your head slightly, studying him—the handsome young man before you, his large, expressive eyes locked on yours, searching for answers.

Could you admit that you’d been asking yourself the same question over and over? Could you confess that, in saving him, you had unknowingly saved yourself from the emptiness of your own life—given it purpose, given it meaning?

“Maybe,” you replied softly, “but you’re not my enemy. You needed help, and I was here. Sometimes, it really is that simple.”

The moment of silence stretched on.

Sihtric didn’t release your hand, his grip tightening briefly as if holding on to some last bit of resistance. But then, with a heavy sigh, his defences crumbled, and he loosened his hold, surrendering to your care.

Gently, you reached out and began undoing the bandages.

Sihtric’s gaze followed your movements, a blend of curiosity and something deeper—gratitude mixed with a hint of awe.

“There,” you said softly, tying the last knot. “All done.” You looked up and met his eyes.

The coolness of the fresh bandages against his skin seemed to ease his tension, and he exhaled, the pain dulling under your careful touch.

Sihtric cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I’m not used to this,” he admitted, his voice low. “Being taken care of.”

Your expression softened as you met his gaze. “Everyone deserves to be cared for,” you said gently.

He looked down, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You’re kind,” he said, after a moment. “Kinder than I deserve.”

You shook your head, dismissing the doubt in his words. “You deserve kindness, Sihtric,” you replied firmly. “Just like anyone else.”

Sihtric’s fingers brushed yours, hesitantly, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Sensing your acceptance, he took your hand in his, slowly lifting it to his lips.

The kiss he placed on your palm was tender, almost reverent, and lingered longer than you expected.

He wanted to say more—to spill everything he was feeling, to let you know how your kindness had shaken him to the core. He had never met anyone like you.

There was such a beauty in your warmth, in the way you looked at him, in how you cared.

He wanted to tell you that he would give everything he had, even his life, just to see your smile again. To feel deserving of your compassion.

A small, tentative smile finally curved his lips—the first real one you’d seen since he woke. “Thank you,” was the only thing he managed, his voice rough and unsteady, eyes dropping to the floor again.

A week had passed since the young Dane had stumbled into your life.

You had feared he wouldn’t make it.

His sleep was restless, plagued by fevered dreams. He tossed and turned, drenched in sweat, painful moans escaping his lips.

The fever refused to break, and the greedy midwife had demanded a small fortune for a potion that promised to reduce the fever and ease his pain. You paid for it anyway.

Sihtric was incredibly sweet, reminding you of a big child—a big, neglected child, you had to admit.

The first thing he did upon waking was try to leap out of bed, but he didn’t get far, stumbling after the first unsteady steps. You couldn’t help but notice the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks as you helped him back into bed.

The crimson in his cheeks deepened every time he had to accept your help, whether it was eating the broth you prepared or when you insisted on changing his bandages. 

He seemed so confused, even lost, his eyes never leaving you as you moved around the old house. You could feel his gaze, a blend of curiosity and wariness, as if he were trying to make sense of this unexpected sanctuary and the stranger who had offered it. 

Yet beneath the confusion, there was unmistakable gratitude and awe in his eyes, and you clung to it like a drowning man grasping a plank in a stormy sea, letting it become your anchor, something to wrap around yourself like a warm scarf, shielding you from the coldness of the night.

You didn’t ask any questions.

Part of you was too afraid to hear the truth—who he really was, where his injury came from. And another part of you dreaded being asked the same in return.

It was he who eventually broke the silence, telling you that he was Lord Uhtred’s sworn man, wounded during a scouting mission.

Did you believe him? No, not really. But you didn’t let it show.

It was easier this way—two strangers brought together by the unpredictable currents of fate, waiting for the next tide to carry them apart again.

And yet the questions came.

“You know about me,” Sihtric began, his voice tentative, “but I hardly know anything about you. Tell me about your family.”

You hesitated, your hands pausing over the cups with herbal tea you were making. You forced a smile and turned to face him.

“Oh, there’s not much to tell,” you said lightly. “I come from a big family. My father runs the mill in the village and often works late, so I have to help my mother with the household and look after my younger brothers and sisters in the evenings. It keeps me busy,” unable to explain to yourself why it mattered at all, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell the truth. 

Sihtric nodded, his eyes softening with understanding.

“That must be hard, all those responsibilities. But it must also be nice to have such a big family.”

“It is,” you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie. “There’s always something happening, and never a dull moment.”

He smiled, and for a moment, the room seemed to brighten. “It must be nice to have so much noise and life around you. I never had that.”

You nodded, looking away to hide the conflict in your eyes.

“It has its moments,” you said, keeping your tone casual. “But it’s nice to have a bit of quiet now and then, too.”

You knew this couldn’t last.

It felt like a dream—one you dreaded waking from each morning as the first rays of sunlight touched your closed eyelids.

Suddenly, your lonesome refuge had become a home, a place to return to, something to care for. You were needed. 

Each morning, it was as if your feet had grown wings, carrying you swiftly to that old, decrepit house. And each evening, as you reluctantly left Sihtric behind to return to the village, your heart sank with the fear that he might be gone by the time you returned the next day.

Deep down, you knew that day was coming, faster than you wanted to admit.

It was one of those evenings when the moon hung low, perched on the treetops, so large it seemed as though you could touch it if you just stretched out your hand.

Sihtric had been unusually silent all day, and as you prepared a simple meal in the kitchen you struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

He didn’t need to say anything; you could feel it.

The wound on his side had healed remarkably well, thanks more to his youth than your limited healing skills.

“I... I need to…” Sihtric’s voice came from behind you, hesitant.

You paused, hands stilling over the vegetables, and quickly wiped away the salty tears that had slipped down your cheeks. Forcing a smile, you turned to face him.

He stood in the doorway, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“I know,” you said, your voice was calmer than you felt inside. “It’s time. You’re well enough now.”

Sihtric nodded, his expression softening. “It is,” he murmured.

There was nothing more to be said.

You nodded, turning back to the table in an attempt to hide the conflict swirling in your eyes.

You didn’t want to cry.

It was foolish, really.

You had known from the start that it would end this way. You were strangers from different worlds, barely knowing each other.

Yet, the ache in your heart told a different story.

You heard Sihtric move closer until he was just behind you, so close that his warm breath grazed the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your grip tightened on the knife as you resumed chopping the vegetables, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythmic movement. Up and down. Up and down. The blade moved faster in your hand, each swing becoming more erratic as your emotions tangled.

Suddenly, two large palms closed gently over yours, halting your frantic motion.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to steady yourself. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, and you blinked hard, willing them away.

“You’re different,” Sihtric’s voice was soft, his thumbs lightly brushing against your hands. “You could have turned me away, but you didn’t. I owe you my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest, but whatever words were forming on your tongue dissolved into a silent sob that you quickly masked with a sharp inhale.

Sihtric had never been this close before, never intruded into your space so intimately. His muscular frame pressed gently against your back, steady and comforting, but what caught your attention most were his hands—his hands were trembling, just as yours were.

“I don’t know how to repay you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, filled with something raw, something that tugged at your heart. “But I want to.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, willing yourself to remain calm. You could feel his warmth against your back, and every part of you wanted to turn around, to face him, to let everything you’d been holding back spill out. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

“There’s nothing to repay,” you said softly, your voice almost breaking. “You don’t owe me anything, Sihtric. I helped because you needed it. That’s all.”

The sensation of Sihtric’s right hand slipping away from yours, travelling slowly up your arm, sent your heart racing wildly.

There were no delicate butterflies in your stomach—there were frogs, leaping and tumbling inside.

His trembling fingers brushed your loose hair aside, revealing your shoulder and neckline.

You sucked in a sharp breath as Sihtric’s warm lips grazed your sensitive skin.

You closed your eyes, a soft whine escaping your lips, mingling with your uneven breath as you involuntarily tilted your head, giving him better access to your neck. A strange heat consumed your senses, making it impossible to focus on anything but his touch.

Sihtric’s breathing quickened, his body pressed more tightly against yours.

You steadied yourself, bracing your hands against the table to keep from losing balance.

“Sihtric...” you breathed, a surprised whimper slipping out as you instinctively pushed back, only to feel the unmistakable hardness of his growing arousal against your body.

Sihtric instantly pulled away, and you finally turned to face him, his hands slipping away as embarrassment flickered across his handsome features.

It wasn’t a conscious movement on your part, but more an instinct—driven by the fear of losing this moment, of letting go of something you had both craved and feared all along. Without thinking, you reached out, grasping his hand and pulling him closer, your other hand reaching for his chin as your foreheads gently touched.

“I... I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sihtric whispered, his gaze dropping as his breath warmed your skin. His voice was hoarse, raw, and even somewhat trembling. “Please, just tell me to stop. Tell me I’m a fool for wanting something I have no right to.”

“Sihtric, look at me,” you murmured, biting your lip as the ache in your chest grew.

Slowly, you reached out cupping Sihtric’s face in your palms, gently guiding his head back toward you. You didn’t speak, but your thumb traced the curve of his lips, silently urging him to understand that you felt the same pull, the same desire. 

“I... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to...” he stammered, uncertainty rippling through his tense body and before he could pull away or before doubt could grip you both, you rose onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, cutting off the words that never came.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped him, melting into the kiss.

You had imagined this moment so many times.

Foreign hands roaming your body, bruising demanding, you had dreamt of this gentle, hesitant kiss like a promise waiting to be fulfilled, soft and filled with reverence you hadn’t expected.

It was everything you’d longed for, and more. 

As the kiss deepened, the sweetness gave way to something more urgent, more consuming. Sihtric's initial surprise and hesitation melted into raw passion.

Your fingers tangled in his braided hair, pulling him closer, drawing another delicious moan from his lips.

His rough, calloused fingers caressed your back, tracing slow, deliberate paths along your spine, his breath growing heavier, more rugged, betraying his youthful eagerness.

You knew this would be the last time you’d see him. There was no future for the two of you—just this fleeting, fiery moment.

The thought twisted in your chest, knowing it would leave your heart aching, raw with longing for what could never be. But it didn’t stop you. It only made you crave him more.

It was anyway more than you could dream of, more than someone like you deserved.

You didn’t care anymore about keeping up the charade of the modest miller’s daughter. At this moment, it didn’t matter.

You were who you were, and you craved him—this young, handsome and strong, yet sweetly hesitant man who touched you as if you were made of fragile glass. You wanted this to be a memory worth keeping, for both of you.

With a confident tug, you hooked your fingers into the hem of his breeches and pulled him flush against you, crushing your lips to his in another kiss that was hungry, deep, and filled with all the passion you had kept inside.

In a swift, determined motion, you turned him around, pressing him against the table.

He let you.

Sihtric would let you do anything. His world was spinning.

From the moment he’d first opened his eyes and met your gaze, filled with warmth and care, he had craved you. He had craved this.

Even the dull ache in his side couldn’t stop the way his body responded to your touch, how his breeches grew tighter each time your hands brushed his skin while tending to his wound, his blood staining your fingers.

He had nothing to offer in return for your kindness—no riches, no freedom. And yet, if he could, he would pull every star from the sky and lay them at your feet.

But even himself, he could not offer. Bound by his oath to Lord Uhtred, he was not free.

He was sure you wouldn’t accept him anyway. After all, he was a Dane, a bastard and a warrior, and you—a Saxon maiden, with a life rooted in the stability and safety of your village. A life where there was no room for the uncertainty that would surely follow if you were bound to him.

It was a mystery to him why you were even tending to him, why you were here at all.

And now, your lips on his had set his mind spinning in a whirlwind of emotions he had never felt before.

Sihtric’s wide eyes tracked your every movement, his breath catching in his throat as your hands skillfully untied the laces of his breeches.

“Oh, gods,” he hissed, and you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him shudder, his sharp breath filling the air between you as your hand boldly slipped inside, stroking his fully hard length before freeing it from the confines of his breeches. 

You kept stroking it, slowly, teasingly from root to tip, as you licked your lips, listening to the soft gasps, escaping Sihtric as his beautifully formed and thick cock twitched and pulsed under your touch.

You leaned in, rolling up his tunic as your teeth lightly grazed the hard muscle of his abdomen.

A heavy moan escaped him, and you felt him suddenly hold his breath.

Smiling, you let your lips trail further down, but just as quickly, his hands shot out to grasp yours, stopping you.

“Wait... no, let me...” he murmured, his voice thick. "Let me take care of you."

In one fluid motion, Sihtric pulled you back to your feet and spun you around with such ease, it stole the breath from your lungs.

You had always suspected he was strong, despite his slender frame, but the way he handled you like you weighed nothing sent a shiver down your spine.

Sihtric’s fingers brushed along your jawline, his rough palms framing your face with a tenderness that nearly broke you and you blinked back the tears threatening to blur your vision.

“Will you let me have you?” his voice was soft and pleading, eyes dark with lust, searching yours for an answer. 

Suddenly unable to find your voice you just nodded, letting your teeth graze your bottom lip as your fingers slipped under his tunic, eager to explore again the tight planes of muscle beneath his skin.

This time, your touch wasn’t filled with the care of tending to his wounds, but with burning passion, with unrestrained desire.

You needed him closer—needed to feel his breath mingling with yours, his lips on your bare skin. You longed to hear him moan your name, to feel his breath hitch as he made you his, even if it was only for this brief moment of shared bliss.

A low hiss escaped your lips as Sihtric’s hands began to hurriedly bunch your dress up your thighs, his calloused fingertips grazing your skin. His eyes flicked up to yours, questioning, as if giving you a moment to reconsider—to stop him.

Impatience coursing through your veins, you took over, pulling the dress over your head and discarding it carelessly on the floor. The same urgency drove your hands as you pulled his tunic off and helped him get out of his breeches, leaving nothing between your bodies.

Sihtric’s large hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and setting you down on the table. The half-prepared supper clattered to the floor, forgotten, as he hastily cleared the space for you.

You spread your legs, inviting him closer, craving the warmth of his body against yours.

“Please, let me taste you,” the raw, husky tone of his voice made your core clench around nothing. 

“You can do whatever you want with me, Sihtric. I’m yours,” you whimpered as you let him urge you down until your back met the rough wooden surface of the table. 

You felt his hot breath on your skin as he placed a wet, open-mouth kiss on your ankle.

You closed your eyes, shivering in lust, as his lips travelled up your leg. You gasped loudly, feeling his lips getting closer to your pulsing core, placing a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. 

His hands took hold of your hips and then with a soft whimper he licked over your slit.

You moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the table, back arching against the wooden surface. It felt so sinfully beautiful, like a forbidden pleasure you knew you shouldn’t want but couldn’t resist, like tasting temptation itself and craving more with every breath.

Each lap of Sihtric’s hot tongue against your pearl drew another loud moan from you.

You slid your fingers into his hair and pulled hard on them.

Sihtric hissed, not letting go of you, as his tongue started to circle your pulsing bundle and his lips nipped and sucked at it, making you squirm and whine as stars exploded behind your tightly closed eyes.

He took you gently, slowly, almost hesitantly pushing forward into you, his eyes locked with yours, his sweaty, shaky palms, pinning your hips down on the rough surface of the table, betraying his nervousness.  

You gasped, feeling his length stretching and filling you, your core throbbing with a greedy need. 

Sihtric moaned as he finally sheathed fully inside of you. He stilled. Eyes locked with yours he savoured your walls taking him in and clenching around him.

The feeling of him buried deep inside of you made your walls flutter in arousal and need, you dug your fingers into his flesh, pushing your hips against him, begging for more.

And he gave you more.

Sihtric pulled out, before pushing forward again and then again, his movements tormentingly slow but thorough, driving you mad with want and desire.

Spurred by the lewd sounds rolling over your lips, his thrusts started to pick up pace until he was pounding into you, his hips meeting yours with every move.

“Oh god, Sihtric, you feel so good, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you mewled, clawing at his skin. 

You glanced up at the young Dane through your lashes, taking in the sight of him as he thrusted into you—his flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes rolling back into his head, breath catching and lips parted in deep, intoxicating groans—worshipping you like you had never been worshipped before.

He was completely entranced by you, utterly under your spell, and the sight of him like this—vulnerable and beautiful—was one you knew you would never forget as you cursed and thanked fate in equal measure for bringing you together in this secluded, forgotten place.

“Please, don’t stop, don’t ever let go of me,” you whispered, barely aware of the words escaping your lips, lost in the moment, already too far gone, too close to the edge.

“I won’t. You’re mine. Forever mine,” Sihtric’s voice reached you through the haze clouding your mind, his words wrapping around you like a promise, solid and unwavering, making your walls start clenching around him.

Sihtric pulled you up, pressing his forehead against yours as he continued to thrust into you, his strong arms holding you close, securing you against him.

His lips found your neck, kissing, sucking and bruising your soft skin with his teeth, his breath panting and his moans growing stronger and heavier with each thrust, mingling with yours.

“Forever mine,” he breathed in your ear, the sweet promise in his words adding the last weight to tip the scales and sending you tumbling over the edge.

Your climax hit you with a force of a tempest, filling you with pure bliss as tears welled up in your eyes.

Thighs trembling and head spinning, your whole body shook while hot waves of pleasure washed over you as Sihtric fucked you through your peak, his panting breath, laced with strained, twitching moans, hot against the skin of your neck as he came only a few moments later. 

You knew the old house would be empty, greeting you with the same heavy silence it always had. And yet, as you pushed open the creaking wooden door, you held your breath, a flicker of hope still lingering in your chest.

“I will come back. You’ll see. There’s nothing in this world that can keep me away from you,” he had whispered, holding you tightly against his chest.

“Not even your oath?” you had asked, lifting your gaze to meet his.

He didn’t reply at first, his mismatched, searching eyes darkening as he looked down at you. Then, almost hesitantly, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

His embrace was strong but gentle, as if he still feared you might pull away. But you didn’t.

You leaned into him, feeling his heartbeat against yours, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill that had settled in your bones.

“Not even my oath,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair.

Did you believe him? No, not really.

Now, your footsteps echoed through the empty rooms, a hollow ache settling in your chest as the crushing truth hit you. 

Your gaze fell on a single, delicate white flower in a vase on the table. It stood out against the emptiness, a painful remainder of something gone, something lost forever.

Slowly, you sank to the floor, the weight of it all breaking you. Uncontrollable sobs shook your body as a loud cry tore through you, the tiny shimmer of hope you had clung to slipping away with each tear.

The tavern buzzed with activity that evening, a small party of warriors having stopped in the village.

Their presence initially sent villagers into their homes, shutters drawn tight in fear. But the clink of silver flowing freely from the warriors' hands as they ordered food and ale quickly spread, and the fear began to dissipate.

Curiosity took hold, and soon the tavern filled with villagers eager to strike a bargain or sell their wares. It promised to be a profitable night for everyone—especially the tavern’s ladies.

Hearing how generous the strangers were, you had pulled your best dress from the old chest, carefully checking for any loose stitches before slipping it on.

The voices and laughter from downstairs grew louder as you descended into the bustling, lively room, mingling easily between the tables, your eyes scanning for the strangers in hopes of catching their attention.

A booming voice cut through the din, drawing your gaze to a table where several men sat, one of them clearly the leader.

The girls had whispered that the others called him "Lord."

You mustered your most enticing smile as you neared, eager to catch his eye—until a snippet of their conversation froze you in place.

Your eyes went wide, shock coursing through you, the noise of the tavern fading as the weight of what you were hearing settled in.

“Sihtric, you did what you could. Sometimes you just have to accept things as they are,” the man said, stepping aside and placing a hand on his companion’s shoulder.

“There isn’t even a mill in this village. There’s no point in asking for the miller’s daughter. She didn’t want to be found.”

“It can’t be,” Sihtric’s voice trembled, his grip tightening around the ale mug. “She told me... she said she loved me. The night before I left, she said she loved me.”

"Maybe she loved your cock,” came a mocking chuckle from a bearded man with a thick Irish accent, earning a desperate, angry glare from Sihtric.

“Sihtric,” Uhtred interjected, his tone gentler now, "none of what she told you about herself or her family was true. I spoke to the innkeeper. You need to forget her."

Sihtric’s gaze lifted slowly from the floor, his cheeks flushed with the weight of shame and disbelief. As he turned to face Uhtred, his eyes caught the figure of a young woman standing nearby, unmistakably one of the tavern's whores.

You wanted to run, but your body refused to obey. Your feet felt rooted to the floor as you watched recognition and surprise flicker in Sihtric's eyes as he stood.

It seemed impossible, yet it was true—your dearest dream and worst nightmare had collided into reality.

With the last remnants of your strength, you forced yourself to turn away. Your legs wobbled like jelly as you stumbled toward the door, using the tables for support. Behind you, Sihtric's voice called your name, spurring you forward.

You reached the door, shoving it open before tumbling down the steps outside. You hit the ground but scrambled back to your feet, desperation driving you. Shame and embarrassment burned at your heels as you broke into a run.

"Wait! Please, stop!" Sihtric’s voice rang out behind you.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back against a broad chest.

You fought against it, struggling to free yourself, pounding your fists against the leather armour covering him. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Let me go!" you cried, your strength and resistance fading as his unyielding grip held firm. "Now you know!" you sobbed, your voice cracking. "Now you know everything. Just... please, let me go."

Hurt etched across Sihtric’s handsome face as he loosened his hold, but your strength had left you.

Without his support, you sank to the ground, trembling with sobs.

"So it was all a lie?" you heard him ask, his voice strained. "You didn’t mean it? But why?" His voice nearly broke with the question.

"Why does it matter?" you cried, burying your face in your hands. "You'd never want me if you knew who I really am."

"But you know that's not true," Sihtric said, crouching down beside you, his hands grasping your shoulders. "Look at me. Please, just look at me," he pleaded, his voice so full of emotion it made your chest ache.

Slowly, you withdrew your hands from your face, tears blurring your vision, as you reluctantly met Sihtric’s gaze.

His eyes, though pained, were full of something you hadn’t expected—understanding. His hands tightened gently on your shoulders, steadying you as you trembled.

“Do you think I care about that?” he asked, his voice soft but firm. 

Your breath hitched, disbelief swirling in your chest. “But I lied to you, Sihtric. I told you things that weren’t true. I’m not who you thought I was.”

He shook his head, his grip on you firm and unwavering. “You are exactly who I thought you were. You’re the woman who saved me when I had nothing, who didn’t judge or despise me for what I am, who cared for me when I was weak. You’re the woman I can’t stop thinking about.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, but you still felt the weight of shame dragging you down. “But I’m not the miller’s daughter. I’m no one. I’m just...”

Sihtric cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle but insistent. “You are everything to me,” he whispered, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. Sihtric’s fingers gently trailed the contours of your face, his thumb lightly pecking your lips, as he lifted up your chin.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The hurt, the shame, the fear—they all melted away under the weight of his words. His touch was steady, his presence grounding. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of him soothe the storm inside you.

“I don’t deserve you,” you murmured, barely able to voice the words.

“Maybe I don’t deserve you,” he countered softly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. 

His lips met yours in a kiss so gentle, so tender, that it sent a wave of warmth through you, stirring something deep inside—a longing so powerful it left you breathless.

With trembling fingers, you cupped his face, pulling him closer, as if you couldn’t get enough of him. And when you finally pulled away, a sense of lightness washed over you, as if a burden you had carried for far too long had suddenly lifted.

“What now?” you whispered, your voice trembling with both hope and uncertainty.

“Don’t you remember?” Sihtric chuckled softly. “You are mine, forever mine.” His arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Did you believe him? For the first time, yes, you did.

[themorningsunshine]

Pie-eyed over you Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Each chapter has its own warnings but in general, this story will contain weapons, murder and a hell lot of sweets.

You can also read it on AO3.

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Chapter 1 : Cupcakes

Chapter 2 : Brownies

Chapter 3 : Muffins

Chapter 4: Pancakes

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Taglist (open) - @alana4610 @infinitehyperfixations @emilyroberts @winters1917 @almosttoopizza @lizslibrary @darlingwhoreslut @broadwaybabe18 @lolabrielle  @quethekillerqueen  @bbiaa420 @verveta345 @cookielovesbook-akie @saranghaey @writing-for-marvel @talesofadragon @depressed-gays-of-marvel @carrysears @supernatrualqueen @thecubanator2 @mcucatlady @tesseract69 @unaxv @fridooolin @havlindzk @coffeejustcoffee @nabiiturner @galaxy-dusk @blog-the-lilly @roserfz27 @elsie-bells  @partypoison00  @melsunshine @thevodkori @emoalien69 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @awkwardgiraffe726 @just-set-things-on-fire @lalalalalafu @jotaros-bara-tiddies @scuzmunkie @moonchildlov @pampeop @mossiswriting  @gloriouspurpose01 @day-dreaming-goddess @hawkeyes-queen @thats-alittle-gay @gigiislove @panhoeofmanyfandoms @solisinferni @dragonsandfunkyneonmushrooms @5lutty5arah @hopeluna @lethallyprotected @marvelxlevram @casualchaosdevil @happinessinthebeing @franfineashell @emily7232 @lizzystuffsthings @buckystevelove @polireader @niophiasca @mss-nthng @roe20r @devil1112 @hooomansstuff @missaprilt23 @sherlockstrangewolf  @philiasoul @hasta-la-pasta-bb @rintheemolion  @marvelxlevram @winifrede @kentokaze @buckybarnessimpp @rivalriotrenegade @spookylady92 @distinguishedbluebirdtriumph @wayward-gypsy @samlworld​  @thecraziestcrayon  @winters1917 @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @elayne321  @kemillyfreitas @mongoose-king​ @bonkybarnes106​ @weirdothatwritess @hawkinsavclub1983​ @thebombdropper​ @meganjudee​@cobra-kaii​ @bbiaa420​ @queerqueenlynn​ @elizacusi-blog​ @lefibee​ @hermione-grangers-wife​ @aurorathi​ @volklana​ @noisesinthedark​ @unaxv

@matchat3a @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @etherealskzss​ @beware-my-thorns​ idk0daddy0issues @deansgirlsworld @lactoesintalleraunt @avengersinitiative2012​    @surhii​ @deansgirlsworld @ashk1017 @taylors--version

[foxyanon]

Foxy’s Recs

These are creators whose work I have consumed and recommend to literally everyone. Rather than link specific fics, I’ll link masterlists since all of their work is phenomenal.

@sihtricfedaraaahvicius, have literally read just about all her work, she writes predominantly for Sihtric (but is branching out to other of Arnas’ characters) and her masterlist is here

@whitedarkmoonflower, another one I have read nearly every piece of work, she also writes for Arnas’ characters and her masterlist is here

@jamespotterismydaddy, I love her Cregan Stark fics but she has multiple characters she writes for and her masterlist is here

@fairysluna, I’m a SLUT for her Maegor & Cregan fics and her masterlist is here

@fallingintoyourlilaceyes, just discovered her but I love what I’ve read so far and her masterlist is here

@gemini-mama, for all the Finan girlies. I love her series and the masterlist is here

@alexagirlie, she writes for multiple fandoms (mostly m/m pairings) & does art, the masterlist is here

@vermithorn, I do be reading their Cregan stuff now and I love, masterlist is here

@targaryen-dynasty, another Maegor girlie and artist, she does write for a couple other blonde disasters, her masterlist is here

@mrsarnasdelicious, she writes a ton of stuff and I love it, but she doesn’t currently have a working masterlist (will link it when she does!)

@legitalicat, she wrote me a stunning Miraak fic but she has some HOTD stuff!! Her masterlist is here

@zaldritzosrose, miss ma’am literally does it all, from AIs to writing to dividers/headers/icons, you can’t find something she doesn’t do. Her masterlist is here

@volklana, she just started writing for Sihtric BUT she has a TOOOONNN of Bucky fics for your perusal. Masterlist is here

@thenameswinterfics, my darling moot and new to fic writing, she also writes for Sihtric. Her masterlist is here!

I will update this as I find new authors. Happy Reading!

[legitalicat]

Pictures of the Heart- Part 9

AN: Massive thank you to @foxyanon for helping me with this, but this part is dedicated to @zaldritzosrose for her birthday tomorrow and also to our beloved @thenameswinter99 for being one of the most amazing friends a girl could ever have. The three of you guys have brought back my creativity and I love you immensely.

Series Masterlist here!

Summary: Sihtric and YN take steps forward.

CW: Language, simping Sihtric, character pregnancy, Osferth getting the chance to bond with his siblings like HE DESERVED

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader, Gisela x Uhtred, Finan x Eadith

Previous Part

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Taglist: @foxyanon @zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @acdassenza @thenameswinter99 @volklana

@cosmic-marauder @abecerra611

[alexagirlie]

Last Line Challenge

Thank youbfor the tag @thelettersfromnoone

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

From the Masema x Sihtric modern au

It had been too long since he had been able to go down on another man.

I'm uh.. I'm writing some smut atm. Surprise haha

Now to tag 16 people oh boy

@foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @sihtricsafin

@ladyinred2248 @thenameswinterfics @gemini-mama @nights-ofren @cordeliacordate

@mrsarnasdelicious @sleepstxtic @arcielee @whitedarkmoonflower @volklana

@sonperior

[thenameswinter99]

LORE DROP

Okay, you're a lot who tagged me so I'll try to remember. *Inhales* Thank you @whitedarkmoonflower , @sylasthegrim , @lord-aldhelm , @freddie-foxs and @thelettersfromnoone for the tag! (Sorry if I forgot someone). 💜

Do you make your bed? It depends. Most of the time I made it, while others I tend to forget.

Favorite number? 8 because it's symmetical

What’s your job? If we can consider it as a true job, then I'm helping my parents in the family supermarket. Actually, I'm a university student.

If you could go back to school, would you? No. High school was the worst years of my life, I would never go through it again.

Can you parallel park? Yeah, I can manage.

Do you think aliens are real? I want to believe that humans are not the only race that actually inhabits space. It's a too vast space to believe that no one else is living here.

Can you drive a manual car? Yes, even thought still not on my own.

What’s your guilty pleasure? Heh... Nice question. I have so many I couldn't tell you which one is the most predominant.

Tattoos? No, but I wish to have them in the future.

Favorite color? Black, purple, and bugundry

Do you like puzzles? Of course!

Any phobias? Entomophobia, well known as "insectophobia" (but I'm not afraid of butterflies)

Favorite childhood sport? Above them all, I enjoyed swimming so much.

Do you talk to yourself? A lot, and most of the time I don't tell nice things to myself ahahaha

No pressure tag (if you want to): @foxyanon , @legitalicat , @zaldritzosrose , @volklana , @ms-oswald

@arcielee , @towriteloveontheirarms , @itbmojojoejo , @eru-vande

And whoever wants to do it!

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 27 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 27 2024 or Week 235, as always, fics will be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my June reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 26 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 28 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 27 2024:

Being completely obsessed with him stretching you out (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @natti-ice ❤️

Find the joy (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @perdidosbucky-yyo 💙

LEGACY ~ 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💚

Broken Hearts part 14 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💙

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @krirebr ❤️

Anonymous Gift part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mercurial-chuckles 💚

LEGACY ~ 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💚

Broken Hearts part 15 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💙

Learn (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ss-tier-simp ❤️

Roads Untraveled 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 🖤

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ussgallifrey 💚

Anonymous Gift part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mercurial-chuckles 💚

The Truth About Love ~ 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💙

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @biteofcherry ❤️

Age of Ultron (Steve Rogers X Reader)) by @theconstantsidekick 💚 💙

You Want Her. You Need Her. And I’ll Never Be Her (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @volklana 💚

Potential breed  (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @twjournals ❤️🖤

Language (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mercurial-chuckles 💚

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ussgallifrey 💚

The Truth About Love ~ 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💙

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove 💚 ❤️

Then & Now part 1 (Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @kayhi808 💙

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 5 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ussgallifrey 💚

The Truth About Love ~ 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💙

Then & Now part 2 (Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @kayhi808 💙

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @talesofadragon 💙💚

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 6 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ussgallifrey 💚

The Truth About Love ~ 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💙

[thenameswinter99]

@sihtricfedaraaahvicius , @whitedarkmoonflower , @foxyanon, @zaldritzosrose , @legitalicat

@alexagirlie , @lord-aldhelm , @sylasthegrim , @gemini-mama , @ladyinred2248 ,

@towriteloveontheirarms , @volklana

Love you all! I will forever worship you and your works 'till the end of my days! 💜💜💜

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

[foxyanon]

Sim Aesira and Werewolf!Sihtric

I had wildly different intentions with their looks but I blame @legitalicat and @volklana for reminding me of Appalachian!Sihtric and Cowboy!Sihtric, both of which influenced the entire lookbook 😂 I also decided to give Aesira my late mother’s maiden name, as a little tribute to her.

So here you go, my witchy Aesira and her werewolf husband, Sihtric in a modern cowboy/cottagecore vibe!

*For obvious reasons, I did not include her son, Ivar.*

Aesira Maxwell:

As she is my shameless self insert, she got looks in blue as it’s my favorite color. She prefers more casual looks, and is more often than not dressed down for comfort and practicality (since she’s usually chasing after the children around the homestead). On the occasion she does get dolled up, it never lasts long since her husband can never keep his paws off her.

Sihtric Kjartansson:

He also prefers a more casual style, often working the homestead while Aesira manages the house. While he doesn’t dress up often, he will wear his clean boots with his nice pants and forgo the hat when the occasion calls for it. If one didn’t know better, you’d never know he was a werewolf from just his appearance alone.

Bonus! His werewolf form!

*I know he looks like a furry, the game just makes werewolves look funky. I worked with what I had.*

[legitalicat]

Pictures of the Heart - part 8

AN: OMG it's been so long and I am so sorry but I had lost inspiration for this completely for a minute. Special thank you to @sihtricfedaraaahvicius for the gif that I edited and used, and thank you to @foxyanon for giving me a FaceTime screenshot to grab the buttons.

Series Masterlist here!

Summary: Sihtric loves YN unlike anything else.

CW: Language, mentions of violence, the aftermath of Part 7, big brother Finan

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader, Uhtred Ragnarsson x Gisela

Previous Part Next Part

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Taglist: @foxyanon @zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @acdassenza @thenameswinter99 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

@volklana @cosmic-marauder @abecerra611

[alexagirlie]

Fic Author Self Rec

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Thank you to @lord-aldhelm for the tag!

It was hard to pick just 5 lol I enjoy a lot of my fics but these are my top 5 atm. In no particular order

1. The Sharpest Lives (Finan x Sihtric, The Last Kingdom) This fic is the first part of a series, I have part 2 published and another 4 parts planned. In this part the boys explore a new part of their relationship as an outlet after a battle where Sihtric struggled to release his battle rage.

2. The Latest Plague (Multi/Polyship, The Last Kingdom) My vampire AU! This was the story that started it all and now it has expanded into an 8 part spin off series with another 7 parts planned 🤣 I love making the boys vampires. In this installation we have a season 3 divergence with a vampire plague that conquers the lands...

3. Flesh of the Dragon (Jacaerys x Aemond, House of the Dragon) Dragon Dick. Thats itz that was the premise of this story and I still love it haha. Aemond meets his nephew again after years and gets a big surprise 😁

4. It's Duncan Idaho and I can be a slut if I want to be (Paul x Duncan, Dune) This was the very first fanfiction I ever published and is still one of my all time favourites (even with all the bad grammar). Modern Au featuring Musician Duncan x Groupie Paul. It is the first of a 4 part series (all being cross posted to tumblr in the next weekish). I even made fanart to go with it! Designed tattooes and everything, pulled out all the stops.

5. Bathhouse Rewards (reader x coccham squad, The Last Kingdom) This is pure, self indulgent filth but was fun to write. I have another installation planned sometime in the future. Features the main four, Finan, Sihtric, Osferth and Uhtred. Reader joins the coccham boys in the bathhouse after a battle

Tagging @foxyanon @legitalicat @ladyinred2248 @whitedarkmoonflower @mrsarnasdelicious

@cordeliacordate @nights-ofren @ulfrsmal @sleepstxtic @archaiccotton

@marzst4rz @7thchevronlocked @volklana @desert--mouse @valamorghulisssss-blog

And anyone else that would like to!

[thenameswinter99]

15 Questions for 15 Friends

Thank you @whitedarkmoonflower for the tag 💜

I don't know if I have 15 friends but... well...

Are you named after anyone?

No, my parents didn't want to name me after my grandmothers, but I found out that it's a very old Jewish name (it's mentioned a lot in the Bible) and it means "He (God) has heard". It's funny because I have a religious name and I'm not religious at all!

When was the last time you cried?

Actually... I'm crying right now AHAHAHAH. I woke up with a broken phone and I had a nervous breakdown because I hate when I say I am right and nobody listens to me. *Sighs* The hard life of still living with your parents.

Do you have kids?

No, but I hope to have them in the future!

What sport do you play / have played?

When I was a child, I remember going to dance and rhythmic (or classical, I can't remember now) gymnastics classes. I also took swimming lessons, I even took part in a competition and won second prize!

Do you use sarcasm?

Not always, but yes.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

The eyes. I don't know why, but the more interesting the eyes, the more curios or attracted I am to that person. *COFF COFF* That's why mismatched eyes are my weakness, they're rare in humans. *COFF COFF*

What's your eye color?

Unfortunately for me, brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I would say "scary movies" because I can't stand the majority of comedy/romantic movies, but I have to say "happy endings" because I'm a scared girlie ahahahaha But I actually like historical and bibliographical films more.

Any talents?

The way I throw myself down is my greatest talent!

Where were you born?

Santa Maria Capua Vetere

What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, drawing, acting, watching movies/shows/cartoons, occasionally photography.

Do you have any pets?

Unfortunately not, I'm not living alone so I could not take them.

How tall are you?

Many years ago I was 158 cm. Now I think I'm 160 cm. I'm still a short lady lol

Favorite subject in school?

Italian literature, English literature, history, philosophy and, deep in my heart, Latin literature.

Dream job?

Work in the film industry. I'm studying design at school, and I think after I graduate I'll do a Masters in VFX design, specialising in visual and special effects. But what I really want to do is just enrol in an acting school and hope that my dreams come true.

No pressure tags (if you want to): @lord-aldhelm @synintheraven @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @alexagirlie

@volklana @sylasthegrim @timetravelingpenguin1066 @sunfyre-targaryen @thelettersfromnoone

and whoever wants to do it!

[nekoannie-chan]

Masterlist of reblogged authors during 2023 S-V

This is the list of the writers that I reblogged during this year 2023 in alphabetical order. Unfortunately, some blogs no longer exist, so they were not included.

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@sweet-as-an-angel

@sweetascanbee

@sweetblink

@sweeterthanthis

@syntheticavenger

@ta3hann1e

@talesofadragon

@talia-rumlow

@targaryenvampireslayer

@terry-perry

@theartofimagining13

@the-bau-quinjet

@thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

@thedarkcoven

@theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

@the-mighty-jellybean

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

@there-goes-thefighter

@the--sad--hatter

@the-soulofdevil

@t-h-i-n-g

@those-late-night-feels

@thoughtsfromaclutteredbrain

@thyme-in-a-bubble

@tikus-library

@tom-whore-dleston       

@trashmagines

@tuiccim

@twinklecrazymind  

@ultralightpoe

@unadulteratedfandomtrash

@unavailable-user27

@under-the-water-imagines

@vampy-doll

@vellicore

@violentdelightsandviolentends

@viperbarnes

@volklana

@vulpe-fox

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Literally me while reading...

This was absolutely beautiful and it hurt for real. I love the way you write Sihtric, how you take over the canon into the modern and transform it still keeping all the emotions and I loved how you took onboard all the other charakters. And only when I read to the end and was like whait... why is it over? ... I noticed this is Part 1. Yuhuuuu, waiting impatiently....

Wish I Didn't But I Do, Remember Every Moment On The Nights With You.

Cowboy!Sihtric x Reader

Part I

Title Comes From This Song:

You leave your small hometown behind, along with the man you loved. What happens when you are forced to reunite?

Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse and heavy drinking.

Dust and hardship, that’s all this place had ever meant to you, and as you turned up the dirt road, the old familiar smell of dust and heat filled your nostrils.

It had been years since you had been back here, and truth be told you never intended on stepping foot on this scorched earth ever again.

“Hallowed land,” your Grandpa had called it, but he was a mean old bastard who was too fond of using his belt as a means of punishment when you stepped out of line, and so this barren piece of dirt suited him.

“Can’t we do this over the phone?” you had begged Osferth when the mention of your Grandfather’s will came up and he sighed long and sad down the phone.

“Y/n, you really need to come down here in person, so there can be no dispute.”

And so here you were pulling down that old familiar dirt track, with distaste in your mouth and bitterness in your heart.

Osferth was waiting on the porch of your Grandpa’s cabin, he removed his hat as you approached and then of course there was Sihtric, because of course he would be there.

“Your Grandfather’s shadow,” you used to spit at him, the son he never had.

You had known Sihtric almost your whole life. 

Ever since your mama decided she couldn’t handle raising a kid on her own anymore and shipped you off here to live with your Grandpa.

Sihtric was a skinny little runt in school. His clothes were always too big and hung on him like rags and he always had lice in his hair.

His dad was a mean old drunk, who treated him like his own personal punch bag. Rumours always hung over their house that he had murdered Sihtric’s mama in a drunken rage one night. Official cause of death ruled she had fallen down the stairs, but if that was so, Sihtric had ‘fallen down the stairs’ one too many times too. 

The other kids shunned him and beat on him more, until at sixteen he eventually had enough and quit school to come work on your ranch.

Your Grandfather had given him the beaten old homestead on the outer edges of the ranch to live in and Sihtric did all the repairs himself and fixed it up proper, your Grandpa talked about it for weeks, going down many times just to marvel at the work Sihtric had done.

You hated him.

He barely spoke a word, always lingering around the edges, working long, hard hours and in many ways you thought he was more at peace with the horses than he ever was with another human being.

You’d caught his eyes on you more than once, and he always looked away as if he had been burned when your eyes would bore back at him. He knew you despised him and he didn’t know what to do to change that. 

Until the summer down by the creek when Uhtred had invited him around the campfire, and you drank whiskey that Finan had stolen from his father, and under the stars and music blaring from Uhtred’s truck your friends had adopted him as one of their own.

And you drank so much you could barely see straight, you had kissed him underneath the stars, feeling his heart flutter in his chest, it was his first kiss, and from the moment his lips touched yours, he could never get enough. 

From that night on Sihtric became one of your friends, he worked long hard hours on the ranch but the evenings were spent getting up to mischief and adventures with Uhtred, Finan and Osferth and slowly but surely, apathy towards him turned into young love. A passionate and wild young love centered around whiskey and bonfire smoke, and a million promises whispered under a million stars.

“I wish I had been nicer to you in school,” you whispered one night as you lay on his chest in the back of his open pickup truck.

“You were plenty nice,” he mused in his slow drawl and you twisted to examine his mismatched eyes.

“But I didn’t talk to you.”

He hmmd and twirled a piece of your hair between his fingers “But you never belittled me, or mocked me, or laughed when I couldn’t spell something right.”

Your eyes glistened with tears under the stars because sometimes you were reminded just how badly Sihtric had been treated, that simply not humiliating him was considered an act of kindness to him. That night you made love for the first time and when you held Sihtric against your breast he buried his face in embarrassment at the tears that slid down his cheeks onto your skin. He had never known what it felt like to be held and loved before and it made his heart so full that you would allow him to feel it with you.

Sihtric was there for you when your mom passed, holding you for hours while you sobbed so hard your ribs hurt.

When your grandfather had a heart attack and almost died it was Sihtric who kept the ranch in running order while you nursed your Grandpa back to health and when Sihtric’s own father was killed in a bar fight you were with him the night he punched a hole through the wall, knuckles bloodied and split when he found out his brother had gotten everything, he wasn’t even listed in his father’s will, and only because Uhtred and Finan threatened to send him to meet his father, Sven, relented and allowed them to return with Sihtric’s mother’s ring, and a photo album of her pictures. The only things he ever had of his mother. And after it all Sihtric had gone to your grandfather and asked him for his blessing to ask you to marry him.

Your Grandfather refused saying you were both too young, but Sihtric didn’t let it deter him, he always knew he would make you his wife someday. 

But you had always wanted more. More than small town gossip. More than marrying and popping out children and sitting at the same pew every Sunday. More than dirt and cattle and pickup trucks and your Grandfather’s heavy handed punishments but somehow Sihtric lessened all of that ever so slightly, until the day your Grandfather found you and Sihtric in his cabin and he beat you so bloody you spit on the dirt and swore you would leave if it was the last thing you did.

When your college acceptance letter arrived you had formed your getaway plan.

You and Sihtric were going to take a greyhound bus to the big city, you would go to college and leave this small town behind and begin your lives together. 

“Where are your bags?” you cried, smile slipping off your face when Sihtric stepped up to the bus stop.

His eyes glistened and you swallowed the lump in your throat “You’re not coming are you?”

He slowly shook his head and his gaze settled on the ground.

“Sihtric..I have to. I have to leave,” you cried and his eyes softened.

“I know,” he sighed “But I can’t come with you. My place is here.”

“Sihtric,” you begged, grasping for his hand  “Sihtric, please. Come with me. Your place is with me, our place is together.”

“You’ve never wanted this life y/n, and it’s not what you were made for. Gods you are so smart and you have a real chance of making something of yourself but that life is not for me, my place is here amongst the horses and land, and I refuse to hold you back.”

You were openly crying, grasping onto his hand for dear life when the bus pulled in.

“But I love you,” you cried and he cried too, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you more than life, but you know that I am right in this. I will be a weight around your neck and you will grow to resent me, and it will tear us apart. This way there will always be a chance you find your way back to me. You’ll know where to find me.”

You grasped him tight, savouring his all too familiar scent.

“I have to get on this bus,” you eventually broke the silence and Sihtric stepped back to allow you to gather your things.

He carried your suitcase up to the undercarriage and then both of you clasped each other again.

“I’ll call you when I get there, we can talk about this.”

“I’ve made my mind up,” Sihtric sniffed resolutely and then the driver honked the horn at you and Sihtric urged you forward with a nod of his head “Go,” he commanded and you clambered up the stairs in a daze. 

You watched him rooted in place as the bus pulled away, tears drying on his face and he lifted one hand up in a wave goodbye. This image would be burned into your mind for years to come.

Neither of you took the breakup well.

Sihtric threw himself into work and whiskey and you threw yourself into studying, even more determined to make something of yourself now, or else it would have all been for nothing.

Your Grandfather cut you off completely. He had expected you to marry and give him Grandbabies that would some day inherit his sacred dirt, “You are just like your mama,” he had spit the last time you spoke on the phone “This place is better off without you and I don’t wanna see you no more. You’ve broken that boy’s heart and he is more family to me now than you will ever be.”

You had tried to rebuild some sort of friendship with Sihtric but it became more and more awkward each call until eventually he stopped accepting your calls and then a few months later a letter arrived, it was in Sihtric’s childlike scrawl but you could tell he had enlisted Osferth’s help with spellings, but there in plain black and white he asked you not to contact him anymore.

To make it worse, Finan and Uhtred who had been your friends first to begin with seemed to have sided with Sihtric and you mourned the loss of their friendship too, Osferth who in time would become a lawyer and manage the financials of your Grandfather’s ranch was the only one who stayed in touch.

So you forged a new life for yourself, but you lost a huge chunk of yourself in the process.

Now you appeared cold and distant, and at times overly critical and ferocious in your attempts to succeed. You gutted that small town girl out from within, along with any tenderness you had ever felt for your small town past, including Sihtric. 

It was easier now to focus on his flaws and his cowardice and betrayal, and you let those emotions chip away at your heart until all that was left for him was bitterness and resentment, and eventually hatred.

A bitter taste in your mouth whenever you thought of him which only worsened when a few years later Osferth called you to break the news that Sihtric was getting married. 

You never received an invitation but you wouldn’t have gone anyway, it took place on the ranch and your grandfather had initiated it. You had creeped on Finan’s social media until you found the pictures of the day and you had to swallow down bile and disgust, alongside the whiskey you were downing.

When the news came through that your Grandfather was dying, you called him to talk and he once again confirmed that you were a disappointment to him, and he spat that you shouldn’t bother coming to see him, so you didn’t come. And then days later Osferth called to confirm his passing, you didn’t attend his service. You wouldn’t have come today either, only Osferth insisted it was the only way his will would be recognised.

“Let’s get this over with,” you sighed climbing the steps up onto the porch of the house you had grown up in.

Sihtric greeted you with a bow of his head, his hat in hand and you responded with a curt nod but kept your gaze forward as you all made your way inside to the kitchen table.

Nothing about the house had changed but you refused to let it choke you up, hardening your face and remaining stoic.

Sihtric’s cabin and all livestock on the property went to Sihtric. You had expected this so it didn’t come as a surprise.

The ranch and house itself went to you but you watched Sihtric fidget anxiously in his seat, you knew what he was thinking, you were going to sell this place out from under him, and you seriously considered it.

“There is however a stipulation,” Osferth added and you and Sihtric straightened up.

“Your Grandfather added a clause that states the beneficiary, which in this case is you y/n, must reside continuously in the property for a minimum of one year before any sale of the property may be allowed.”

Your heart sank a mile a second down to your toes “That surely cannot be legal,” you barked and Sihtric slunk back in his chair in shock.

“Unfortunately it is binding y/n, if you do ever wish to sell the ranch that is the clause.”

“That old bastard!” you spat, “Did you know about this?” you shot at Sihtric “Of course you did, his little shadow, how could you not!”

“On my word, I swear to you I did not know,” Sihtric pleaded.

“On your word,” you scoffed dryly “As if your word means shit to me.” 

Sihtric kept his eyes trained on the ground but his cheeks were tinged pink.

“I’m trapped here,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “He found a way to trap me here finally.”

Osferth reached across the table and squeezed your hand “I tried to talk him out of it but he was set.”

You squeezed his hand back because ultimately you knew there was nothing anyone could do to sway your Grandpa’s mind once it was set on something.

When you called your business partner to break the news, the silence was deafening before he finally managed to weakly ask what you were going to do.

Your head was thumping and all you wanted was to get into your car and drive away and leave this place behind, leave it all to Sihtric and be done. 

“I don’t know,” you cried “It’s such a fucking mess.”

“Look, take a few days, I’ll hold down the fort here, I can email if I need anything.”

“Thank you Aldhelm, don’t know what I’d do without you,” you sighed and collapsed down on the sofa, trying to block the blinding light that was killing you.

You rummaged through cupboards until you found what you were looking for, whiskey and any amount of it too, and you began to drink yourself into oblivion.

You made your way out to the swing on the porch and watched the sun set down behind the mountains.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sihtric down on the outer edges rounding up cattle on his horse. His silhouette was like a ghost of your past and finally the tears that had been threatening to fall all day came in a flood and you clung to the bottle of whiskey like it was a lifeline.

“Y/n?” a voice called, pulling you from the depths of your despair and your head flung in the direction of your best friend in school’s voice.

“Gisela?” you gasped rising up to throw your arms around her, stopping in surprise at her swollen belly, which she rubbed shyly.

“He’s due any day now,” she beamed before taking in your appearance “Uhtred told me about the will, and I thought you could use a friend right about now.”

It was shameful and out of character but you were a sobbing mess in her arms when she pulled you close. 

She took a seat on the porch swing beside you and for a while you sat in silence watching Sihtric work.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do? She tested after a while and you shook your head sadly.

“I can’t stay here for a year. I’ve got a business to run, I have a life in the city but- but the alternative is I leave here and just let Sihtric handle business but I’m still tied to this place legally and financially and mentally I don’t feel strong enough to be bound to this place.”

“Were you really so unhappy here?” she tried gently, and your teary eyes sought out Sihtric’s silhouette again “Some of my happiest moments were here. But that life is gone now.” 

Gisela followed your line of sight and smiled sadly and what your words implied.

“Look, all I ask is that you don’t sell this place out from under him. It’s all he’s got. At least give us all a chance to pull together to get him some money to buy this place, he’ll never afford it on his own.” 

“All he’s got?” you scoffed and Gisela bumped you sadly.

“You should talk to him, see if you can work this out together.”

You considered her quietly, you couldn’t say what you really wanted to say, mindful of the fact that she was Sihtric’s friend too.

“I’m happy for you and Uhtred,” you smiled and she beamed “You guys were always perfect for each other.” 

“I did send you an invitation,” she smiled sadly and you squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry I just couldn’t face it,” she shook her head in silent understanding, the ‘it’ that you couldn’t face was currently riding closer and closer your way and passed by with a gentle tip of his hat.

After Gisela left, you finished the bottle of whiskey and made your way out towards the stables.

Sihtric was brushing down the horses, unaware that you were watching him while he spoke gently to the animals and you wanted to soften to him but it just made you angrier.

“Are you happy?” you scoffed and he stopped his ministrations, turning to face you in shock.

“Y/n,” he tried but you cut him off.

“This was what you always wanted right? The animals, the land, the wife. Perfect little life. What did you think if you stuck by him enough he would give it all to you?”

“Y/n-” he tried again, taking a step towards you, face etched with hurt.

“I hoped he would too. I hoped he would leave it all to you, but here we are. You’ve got what you always wanted and I am trapped here again, miserable.” 

“I didn’t choose any of this,” he begged but you could not be placated.

“You might have stuck to him like a shadow, but he was my grandfather!” you spat and Sihtric rounded on you.

“Has it ever crossed your crazy little mind that the reason I stuck to him like a ‘shadow’ was because I never had a fucking father of my own? Not one that didn’t kick seven shades of shit out of me every single day. I’m sorry that he was so tough on you and that you hated it here, but he was the only adult who ever truly gave a shit about me and I loved him.” 

You had never once heard Sihtric raise his voice and it stunned you for a moment. 

“You blaze back in here thinking you know everything but you don’t know anything, because you weren’t here. You chose to leave, you had the choice, I didn’t..-So don’t come back here thinking you have it all figured out because you weren’t here.” 

“You say it like I abandoned you,” you quipped and Sihtric scrunched his face, and you could see him trying to swallow down his anger.

“You did,” he eventually sighed, so low you barely heard it.

“Sihtric, you left me! I wanted you to come with me, but you chose to stay. You left me.”

Sihtric took a step towards you, eyes locked on yours while you were both trying to silently communicate the hurt you had caused each other, and before you could fully comprehend, you were almost chest to chest and Sihtric was reaching for you.

“But it doesn’t matter now,” you whispered “We’ve both moved on, and after a couple of days I’ll be gone again.”

Sihtric stopped all movement toward you, his hand dropping down to his side and taking a huge step back. 

“I have to get back to work,” was all he offered and you returned to the big house alone and drunk with a head swimming in pictures of mismatched eyes.

A few days later Gisela called to invite you around to hers and Uhtred’s house so you made some homemade pie and made your way over and were formally introduced to Finan’s wife Eadith, “So this is the famous y/n,” she mused smiling kindly before pulling you into a hug “I’ve heard so much about you!” she mused with a knowing smile and you instantly loved her.

“There she is!” Finan almost roared, picking you up and spinning you around and you clung to him.

Uhtred was a little shier in his approach before finally deciding to just go for it and pull you into a hug. Uhtred’s silence had hurt almost as much as Sihtric’s, he was your oldest friend and at the time it had felt like he had chosen Sihtric over you.

“I’m sorry,” he hung his head in shame “After so much time had passed I didn’t know how to reach out.”

“It’s alright,” you smiled, brushing your finger under his chin so he would actually look at you, “It’s alright. It’s water under the bridge,” and he smiled his huge smile before ducking in for another hug where he nearly squeezed the life out of you.

The peace was disrupted when the porch door swung open and Sihtric arrived, a huge blue bear under his arm.

“Sihtric,” Uhtred laughed “The boy is not even here yet and you have already spoiled him rotten.” 

Sihtric grinned bashfully before dipping forward to place a kiss on Gisela’s cheek, he did the same with Eadith but paused when he got to you, leaning gently to press but the ghost of a kiss on your cheek, before he clasped hands with Uhtred, Finan and Osferth. 

Eadith and Finan left to collect the takeout and beers and an easy silence fell among the group as you stepped out onto the porch, sipping absentmindedly on a bottle. 

To your surprise Sihtric was already out there smoking, but you were calm and not drunk today so you went and stood beside him. 

“I’m going to be the baby’s godfather,” he announced proudly, breaking the silence and your heart swole. Sihtric had always been open about wanting kids and you had seen first hand how good he was with them.

“You have any of your own yet?” you asked and he took a long drag of his cigarette before shaking his head.

“I thought your wife would be here tonight,” you muttered looking down at the wooden slots of the porch and he turned slightly to face you, eyeing you before he simply replied “Nope.”

“What about you? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“I guess the whole love thing never really worked out for me,” you smiled sadly.

Sihtric’s eyes were boring into yours again and he looked like there was something he wanted to say but Finan’s truck pulled into the driveway and the words died on his tongue.

Uhtred lit a bonfire out the back and it felt like being a teenager again with music blaring and the drinks flowing. You and Eadith were like kindred spirits, dancing and laughing and you genuinely could not remember the last time you had felt so carefree, despite how much was on your mind, you felt young and reckless again. One thing was for sure though Sihtric never took his eyes off you the whole night, as he sipped on his own beer. And the longer the night went on, the more you kept hoping to meet his eyes and when you finally did it was like all time stood still. 

When Uhtred finally helped an exhausted Gisela to bed you took a seat beside Sihtric at the fire and he bumped your shoulder.

“Good to see you let loose,” he smiled and you hmmed.

“I haven’t felt this happy in years,” you admitted before you realised how sad that sounded out loud.

“You only smile like this when you’ve been drinking,” he noted and you couldn’t help but silently agree.

“Sihtric, where is your wife?” you finally tested and he smiled sadly.

“Woke up one morning, all my life savings, my car and her were  gone, divorce papers left on the table.”

“Sihtric,” you cried, turning to face him.

“I know,” he laughed “It’s like a bad country song, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, hands flying up to cover your mouth in shock as he laughed along too. 

“Ah, it’s not so bad I had already lost the love of my life long before then.” 

“Sihtric,” you sighed “Why didn’t you come with me?” 

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said softly “Like you said the other night, you’ve moved on.”

You sighed picking at a thread of the throw Uhtred had wrapped around your shoulders, “What if I hadn’t?”

“Don’t,” he begged, face crumpling in what looked like agony.

“Don’t you ever think about what it would’ve been like if you’d come with me?” you pleaded.

“Or if you’d stayed,” he shot back.

“I’ve spent all these years hating you, wishing you would just turn up at my door and tell me that you made a mistake, to tell me that I was enough.”

“Y/n, you were everything. Everything to me. You were always destined for more, for bright and beautiful things. I’m a small town idiot who can barely read. What on earth would I do in the big city except hold you back, get in your way and drag you down. I loved you enough then to let you go. I just hoped you loved me enough to return to me one day.”

You were crying softly and Sihtric took your hand in his, “I’m not going to ask you to stay forever, but could you find it in you to stay the year, and if you still feel the same I will buy the ranch.”

“But?” you asked, big glassy, pleading eyes examining his mismatched ones.

“But, if your feelings change towards this place, I won’t let you go without a fight this time,” he whispered, closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours, you melted into the familiarity of his lips and whimpered as his hands came up to your face. 

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

troyottonick @alexagirlie

[assembletheimagines]

More

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, dirty talking, choking, breeding kink? just smut

AN: There really isn’t any plot just smut..

Bucky rolled his hips against your sex, his pelvis brushing against your clit and causing you to shudder underneath him in response. You cried his name as he moved his forearms under your thighs, pushing them up higher and sliding deeper inside you.

“If you keep making those pretty little noises, you’re going to make me cum, Sweetheart.” He groaned, shifting his hips so with each thrust the curve of his dick brushed the gummy spot inside of you. Each roll of his hips had you seeing stars and your thighs began to shake in pleasure as you whimpered with each stroke.

You were close. But you needed more.

“Bucky,” you whined, your hands grabbing the sheets beneath you. The way Bucky stretched your pussy was overwhelming, making you feeling so full as he pressed in deeper. You mewled as the large vein on his length rubbed against your insides perfectly. “More,” you begged in need, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky placed kisses along your neck.

“You want more, Baby?” Bucky grunted and smirked at how beautiful you looked creaming on his cock.

Your moans turned into a gasp of surprise when you felt Bucky’s metal fingers wrap around your neck then. The metal plates in his arm whirring as he placed pressure to your throat. Your eyes rolled back from the sensation and your cunt clenched around his length as he quickened pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, baby.” He praised and your walls fluttered around him from his words. You began to feel the familiar heat build in your abdomen as he continued. “Are you going to cum for me, Sweetheart?” He hummed and you nodded your head as your thighs shook around his waist. “You always look so pretty when you cum on my dick, baby,” he groaned moving his other hand to your clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves to his strokes. “Cum on my dick, baby.”

The sinful words coming from his mouth as his hand squeezed around your throat sent you over the edge. A silent scream forming on your lips as your orgasm rocked through your body.

Bucky’s pace never let up as he helped you ride out your orgasm. “That’s my girl,” Bucky praised, the sensation of your cunt clenching around his length made his thrusts get sloppier, feeling his own release approaching.

His hips rutted into you faster, praise falling from his lips like a prayer. It didn’t take long, a few more rough thrusts and then he was cumming with a low groan, pushing his hips against the curve of your ass, painting your walls white with his cum.

Bucky dropped his head onto your chest, the both of you trying to regulate your breathing as you both came down from your orgasms. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat as he pulled himself out of you with a groan, your own body whining at the loss of connection.

Bucky leaned back on his knees as he looked over your body, a smirk curving on his lips as he took in the sight before him. Your eyes glossy with your legs open, his cum smothered between your puffy folds. His fingers reached down, unable to resist rubbing teasing circles around your puffy clit watching you whine in overstimulation. “I’m not done with you yet, baby.”

His words made your eyes widening as you watched his other hand wrapped around his length, already pumping his shaft that was hardening again.

“Turn around.”

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@heli0s-writes @volklana​ @writemarvelousthings​ @fvckingavengers​