#osferth x reader

Male subs who would be described as "manly men". They conform to the stereotype of men being strong caretakers and have sculpted their bodies to fit this mold

Male subs who already feel a tinge of shame about being a sub, and refuses to use that word

Male subs who absolutely refuse to do anal play. Why would a man have anything up his ass? Yeah, it's something that he keeps thinking about, but he'd never do it

Male subs having dreams about you having your way with him, which leads to him waking up with a boner he refuses to touch. He can't accept that would get him hard. What was his problem? It'd pass, surely.

Male subs who let their fingers slowly slide down their bodies as they bathe. Maybe if he just rubbed the rim of his hole a bit, he'd realize how gross it was and all these dreams would go away

Male subs spreading their ass apart with one hand while the pointer finger of his other slowly rubs his hole, light as a feather. His breath hitches at the sudden touch. It doesn't feel gross, or like something he should be ashamed of.

Male subs who bite down on their bottom lip as he applies more pressure. Was it supposed to feel this good? Did every other man put on this act about being manly while grinding their ass back against their fingers in private?

Male subs who don't let themselves cum, but can't get that day out of their head. They tug on their dick when you're gone, pathetic whines leaving their lips as they imagine you fingering them. They were going crazy. Their balls were heavy, begging for a release he denied himself because of the thoughts that caused that heaviness

Male subs who try to ignore it until one day he cracks. His hand trails down to that forbidden area again

Male subs getting caught by you. He panics, expecting judgment, but instead you soothe him and softly kiss down his body. He can feel himself let out a sigh of relief at how tender and soft you are with him

Male subs who's back arches the moment your tongue presses against his hole. You take your time with him, slowly lapping at his spot. He nearly screams when he feels the tip of your tongue enter him. "That feels..." extraordinary yet forbidden. He could tell you to stop. He knows you would. But how could he possibly ask you to stop when that knot inside his belly was becoming tighter and tighter? "Keep going, please. Can I get your fingers too? Just- I need everything. I can take it".

Male subs who can't help the noises that come out his mouth no matter how hard he tries. He bites his lip, he slaps his hand over his mouth, he tries to will himself to stay quiet. It all fails. His legs over your shoulders feel foreign, but comfortable. Your entire tongue in his ass feels strange, but amazing. Your fingers are the cherry on top. He can't even get out the words "I'm cumming" before the wave crashes into him, harsh but beautiful.

Male subs who try to explain that they're straight while out of breath, until you shush them and say this doesn't make them any less of a man. You kiss his thighs gently, and it brings him this sense of peace he can't quite describe. This comfortability. This safety net. He feels safe enough to ask you to go again and again and again, until he's properly exhausted by the end

Male subs who trail behind you after this. Usually, he has no problem asking for what he wants. This however, makes him nervous. But you always know what he wants, which leads to him being bent over random pieces of furniture, legs shaking, tongue lolling out his mouth as pants come out

Male subs who feel immense shame at the thought of you fucking him with a fake penis, but ends up face down, ass up, anyway

Male subs who can slowly but surely feel all that shame slide off their back when they realize just how good it feels because fuck, you prepped him so nice, and your hands feel soft yet firm on his hips, and the actual feel of your "dick" inside him make his eyes roll back and his arms go weak

Male subs who know they're being far too loud. He knows the other men nearby can hear him. He should try to quiet down, but he doesn't. He can't.

Male subs with tears falling down his face. How could this be forbidden if it felt like this?

"Yesyesyesyes! Ugh, fuck me like you mean it! Make me take it! You're making me feel so good!"

Male subs who reach a hand around so he can spread himself more for you. His dick lays neglected between his legs. He should feel disgusted for letting you do something so vile to him, but he keeps begging for you to keep going. He'll do anything. He'll let you fuck him outside in front of everyone as long as you fuck him until he can't breathe. Please, use him like some whore. Make him feel how you feel on days when he's pounding into you and your nails are scratching his back

Male subs who can't remember their names after you fuck every bit of cum out of him

Male subs who go from never entertaining the idea of something entering him, to now being willing to beg for you to fuck him anytime and anywhere

𝑼𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒅

“Destiny is all… but you were never part of the plan.”

・This marriage is a strategic alliance. An act to broker peace between two warring factions.

・Even though Uhtred wants this peace, he isn't thrilled about it.

・At first his mindset was to keep you alive, but the more you got to know each other...the more he was in denial:

“I don’t care about her. I just need to make sure she stays alive… for the alliance. That’s all.”

・What started as a simple sword lesson had turned into him pushing you harder than he intended. Wanting you to see the true strength of opponents.

・He didn't want to sugarcoat what war and battles were. (Not that you had been fantasising about them anyway).

・Uhtred thought his lesson was going well until you finally knocked him to the ground.

・For a split second, he was shocked...stunned and then he stared up at you, breathing heavily. And then he smirked.

・Showing indifference, Uhtred trains you to fight. And adorns you with proper fighting gear, a shield and gets a blacksmith to make your very own sword.

・Even in the early stages of your marriage, Uhtred would subconsciously protect you - no matter where you were or what you were doing. E.g., even at the tavern, he never let anyone get too close (his men were like three other bodyguards)

・You were glad for Finan, he became like a brother to you. Always making things lighter, bringing the humour.

・Because you were constantly on the road with the four men. And Uhtred didn't trust anyone else to take care of you.

・But he would never say that...

・Sihtric barely spoke to you, but he held a lot of respect for you.

・Over time, Sihtric becomes one of your fiercest defenders, in battle and in life. Like a quiet shadow, a forcefield ensuring no harm comes to you.

・Osferth; he's your first friend, real friend, although he was a bit awkward. You become the sister he's always wanted. And he becomes that little brother who wants to follow you everywhere and do everything you're doing...

・The truth of Uhtred's feelings comes out during a heated argument. After nearly getting himself killed...again, you accuse him of putting too much at risk to gain Bebbanburg, that he cares too much about gaining that castle back.

・Shocked, ashamed, embarrassed that you would say that. Uhtred's face heats, and what you say is truth. Well, it was truth, until:

"I have spent my whole life fighting for Bebbanburg! But then you came along, and now I’m fighting for something else. For you. Don’t you see that?”

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖:

“My Heart” uses this one when you have private moments and when he feels vulnerable. I.e., after a battle or during soft, intimate conversations.

“Shieldmaiden” is used in front of his men, showing his pride in you.

“Wife” is both teasing and affectionate, often said when you’re being stubborn.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shared Vision and Purpose

Closed Off (Uhtred) x The Person They Warm Up To (You)

Brave Warrior (Uhtred) x Self-Assured Damsel (You)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Home Is Wherever You Are

The Parents Of The Group

Reluctant Allies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Kingdom Dance by Alan Menken

Scotland by BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

I Had To Do That by James Newton Howard

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏

“I didn’t want this, but now? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

・Your marriage was a political alliance to strengthen ties between Ireland and the Saxons. Finan, as Uhtred’s right hand, was seen as a valuable connection.

・How else could Finan endure this other than with humour?

・As soon as you met him, he was cracking jokes. Sometimes he was funny, other times you were annoyed - because he was constantly making light of ... everything.

・When you called him out on it, he sighed, "I'm sorry lass. It's ah...the only way I know how to cope sometimes."

“She’s alright, I guess. I mean, for someone who can’t keep up in a fight…” (He says this right before throwing himself in front of an arrow meant for you.)

・Day by day, you were slowly opening up to each other. Learning through talking by the fire, on horseback, walking through the forest.

・Soon Finan began to lean close while talking to you, staring into your eyes, moving a piece of hair behind your ear, brushing past you "accidentally", etc.

・Finan was always looking to see if you were okay. Even in a crowded hall, his gaze would flick to you every few moments, but if he was ever caught, he'd smirk and look away.

・Whenever you feel down, Finan doesn't mind making a fool of himself to make you laugh

・If talking doesn't help, he'd happily slip in the mud during training or let Sihtric carry him around bridal style.

・One night, as a joke, you tied a small braid into his hair, saying it makes him look more "noble." He laughed it off but didn't take it out... he wore it for days afterward.

・His feelings are brought to light during a drunken night around the fire. The others were sharing stories about what they fight for; land, honour, family, ... fun.

・Someone asked Finan and as he was about to make a joke, he glanced at you.

・Your face was illuminated by the light of the flames, and it hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Her."

Silence fell. He looked to you who was wide-eyed, "I'll always fight for you."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Lass” is his go-to—light, teasing, and affectionate.

“Trouble” slips out when you’re bickering or challenging him (which is often).

“Little One” is playful, his everyday teasing, often when he’s trying to make you laugh.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

Constant Banter

The Sarcastic Duo That Can Finish Each Other's Insults

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Height Difference

Bickering and Banter

Timeless Love

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Valerie by the Midnite String Quartet

Happily Ever After by George Fenton

𝑺𝒊𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄

“You make me feel like I belong… like I'm worth loving.”

・For Sihtric, he was forced to marry you. The King willed it so. It was a cruel decision. the King wanted to somehow split up Uhtred's group - make it harder for them to be connected.

・It didn't turn out how the Monarch intended...the group just kept you with them.

“I don’t care if she notices me. I’m just here to protect her.” (He says while carrying a pouch full of the random trinkets you’ve given him.)

・You were trained by all of them in battle; how to defend, attack, how to do a shield wall etc.

・Spending time with the men was fun; even if Sihtric was silent most of the time.

・Finan always made you laugh, and Osferth made you feel comfortable no matter what the context was.

・In time, you truly thought of Uhtred as your leader. And you too called him 'Lord.'

・Sihtric constantly lingered in the background. He was always nearby, however, he was never imposing. Just ensuring you were safe.

・You were very different to what everyone thought. There was a softness in you. A heart of gold.

・When you became comfortable around Sihtric, you started to give him things.

・Particularly things you found on your journeys. E.g., many many rocks; smooth river stones, shiny pebbles (anything shiny really), beautiful feathers from birds, flowers that have specific meanings etc.

・And he keeps every single item.

・His pockets are completely full.

・Sihtric is constantly staring, but instantly looks away when he's caught. A small blush dusting his cheeks.

・Another thing is his quiet gestures...he'll fix your armor, puts extra supplies on your horse, sharpens your sword without saying a word.

・The love you hold for each other comes out during the aftermath of a brutal fight.

・You were tending to Sihtric's wounds, hands trembling as you stitched a deep cut on his arm.

・Sihtric couldn't help but watch your face, the concetration, the look of concern.

・You were both silent until you uttered, "You...you could have been killed," your voice was soft but full of emotion.

・Sihtric caught your wrist, his blood-stained fingers entwining with yours.

In a voice so wrapped with truth, Sihtric whispered, "I would die for you. Without hesitation. "

・This marriage wasn't duty anymore. Now...it was love.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Little Blade” pops up during training sessions or when you sass him.

“Mine” is possessive, intense, and usually slips out during high-stakes moments.

“Angel” when he’s overwhelmed with how much he adores you.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Madly In Love (Sihtric) x Ridiculously Oblivious (You)

Sun (You) x Moon (Him)

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Him)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Healing and Redemption

Unbreakable Bond

Emotional Intimacy

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Sex On Fire by Midnite String Quartet

Fire In The Water by Feist

𝑶𝒔𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒉

“You make me brave. Brave enough to be yours.”

・The marriage was to save your life. Many Saxons wanted you dead, but a marriage to a religious Saxon meant you'd be safe.

・Early on in the marriage Osferth would blush at everything you did. From compliments to teasing, he was constantly red-faced.

・But as your time together grew, he started seeking out those moments.

・Even though he’s usually mild-mannered, if anyone speaks poorly of you, Osferth is the first to step up; sword in hand, voice shaking, but unwilling to step down.

・Osferth would give you thoughtful gifts. Small items like a bunch of wildflowers, a smooth stone, etc. But never admitting they’re from him.

“She’s just being friendly. That’s what this is… right?” (As he turns red after you compliment his sword-fighting.)

・Both of you faced your feelings when he thought he lost you.

・It was after a battle; a close one where you all were separated from each other. You were missing for a few hours, and Osferth had been searching unrelentlessly.

・With each moment his panic had risen. His heart beating so fast he thought he might die.

・But he did find you. You were unconscius but alive.

・Osferth cradled you, tears in his eyes while whispering his feelings:

“Please, don’t go. I… I love you. I should have said it before.”

・You stirred at his words, opening your eyes, smiling lightly.

・Blinking slowly, you hummed. Moving to hold onto his arm.

"I love you too."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Sweetheart” is his everyday term — filled with gentle love.

“Dearest” slips out when he’s overwhelmed with love — often in moments of shyness or soft confessions.

“Braveheart” is used when he’s overwhelmed by your strength, often after emotional or dangerous moments.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

He Confessed His Love When Thinking You Were Unconscious 

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Osferth)

Menace To Society (You) x Living Moral Compass (Osferth)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Trust and Dependence

Intertwined Destinies

Love Conquers All

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Train by James Newton Howard

Let The Light In by Lana Del Rey

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒈𝒈𝒓

“I would follow you to the ends of the earth—because without you, none of this matters.”

・There was constant tension whenever you were around Sigtryggr.

・He rarely spoke to you in the early days of your marriage.

・Seeing it only as a way for him to gain more power

・And in return, your family would be safe - your village, kingdom, would not be harmed by any Dane.

・You kept your own beliefs and wore your traditional family clothes, even though you did not know when you would see your family again.

“She talks too much… but I don’t want her to stop.”

・Watches you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

・His stoic exterior hides it, but he studies you. Including how you smile, how you move, how you speak.

・Sigtryggr knows what your favourite colour is, what you like to do with your time - all because he notices things. And he wants to know more about you.

・He lets you in; allows you to see glimpses of his vulnerable self.

・He shares stories of his past, things he’s done, things he regrets and waits to see if you’ll turn away. You never do.

・And in a world where he controls everything...he lets you make decisions. E.g., about where to travel, what to eat. He values your opinion.

・When both of your feelings were revealed, it was during a difficult situation.

・You had confronted him after a harsh decision in battle. He had executed someone who defied him.

・It shocked you. But ... you understood. Traitors had to be punished, maybe he went a bit far this time but you understood.

・In the comfort and seclusion of your shared bedroom, you spoke your thoughts.

"Don't you think that was a bit ... brutal? I mean, yes he was a ... traitor but you could have done anything else-"

"I know you think I'm a monster," he replies, his voice low. He wasn't facing you, almost as if he wouldn't. Or couldn't.

"A monster?" You replied, shocked.

"Yes! Do you think I wanted this? To be this man?" His words came out like venom.

You soften, and step closer, "No. No, you aren't a monster. Sigtryggr, I have seen the good in you!

His gaze turns to you, utterly and completely. Gently taking a hold of your wrist, voice low and vulnerable: “I’ve done terrible things… but I would burn the world for you.”

・No more pretending. You had the realisation that...he is completely, undeniably yours.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Beloved” used during rare, emotionally charged moments e.g., after a battle, during confessions, or when you’re vulnerable together.

“My Flame” is used when there's passionate, heated arguments or intimate moments.

“Little Chaos” he calls you this when you’re being unpredictable or teasing him.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Soulmates

"I've done terrible things in the past" (Sig) x "All i care about is who you are in the present" (You)

The Hyperactive (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Sig)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

I Can't Exist Without You

Healing and Rebuilding Together

I Go Wherever You Go

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

One More Hour by Tame Impala

Margaret by Lana Del Rey

But later in his life he found the true meaning. And now he believed those cursed words more than ever. He saw his lord and friends take wives, build homes. His desire for love, a home and to build—something to last for his family, it grew every day.

You needed money, a small patch of land, and an estate in order to have a wife. The recipe of a fulfilled life. That was what he told himself.

But he had nothing—no land to call his own, no field to cultivate, and only a small pouch at his belt filled with a few silver and copper coins.

In his eyes, it was nothing.

There was a celebration going on in the great hall. He couldn’t remember what Sihtric had said. Maybe something about a Danish god of light. He sadly didn’t remember. Something about giving thanks, which was all he remembered.

He sat in his lord’s hall, watching her—the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Her laugh was pure and sweet, like church bells after a Sunday mass. Her eyes sparkled like crystal-clear water. He wanted to sink into them and drown helplessly.

But he had no house, no land, and certainly no money.

He was Osferth, bastard of King Alfred the Great. A warrior monk serving under his lord Uthred of Bebbenburg.

He laughed humourlessly under his breath. A bastard of noble birth and a sell sword.

“Are you alright, Osferth?” The sweet voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts.

He jumped and looked up to see her. A smile adorning her face, her hair framing it. “Ye-yes, of course.” He cursed himself for the trembling in his voice.

No land, no estate, no money—and now no steady voice, either, he thought bitterly, wanting to flog himself.

She sat beside him. Blood rushed to his cheeks as their shoulders brushed. “You shouldn’t be alone at such a monumental festivity as the summer solstice,” she murmured softly. Her smile made his heartbeat unbelievably fast.

“The others have gone to the bonfire. Their wives pulled them away to dance,” he mumbled shyly.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Have you ever thought of taking a wife of your own?”

He nearly spat out his ale. Yes, he thought. You. I want you as my wife.

“No, it is not my desire. Besides, I would not want to burden any woman with my bastard seed. My children would always be known as the children of Alfred the Great’s bastard.” He spoke bitterly, not meeting her softened eyes.

Because if he did, he would see pity there—the same look everyone gave him. The poor bastard monk. Osferth the discarded son.

But when he dared glance at her, he saw no pity. Only a warm smile, eyes shining like a clear stream, welcoming and kind.

“But what if there are some people who see only Osferth? Simply Osferth.” She smiled.

His heart fluttered, his eyes wide in surprise. Did such people truly exist? Was she thinking like this?! Was she one of the few people who saw him as simply Osferth?

His hands trembled softly. “You must introduce me to them then, for I cannot imagine they exist.” He spoke bitterly, taking a large gulp of his drink.

She suddenly rose and walked away from the table.

Osferth watched in confusion as she made her way through the crowded hall, then returned.

Her grin was intoxicating. “You must be Osferth—one of Lord Uhtred’s great warriors?” She held out her hand, introducing herself. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

His heart nearly gave out. Heat burned beneath his skin as blood rushed to his face. She introduced a person who only saw him.

“Yes, I—I’m Osferth, my lady,” he stammered, eyes wide. “Simply Osferth. I am no great fighter,” he mumbled under his breath. He forgot for a moment they already met. Her beauty made him forget everything.

But she heard him. “Nonsense! I’ve heard of your heroics. They say your swordsmanship is impressive, rivalling even some of the Danish warriors.”

Osferth prayed for the ground to open and swallow him whole. He felt as if he were burning from the inside out. How did he deserve such a divine creature? To bask in the presence of such a fine and kind woman.

“My lady, I must be blessed by God. You-you are the kindest soul this earth has seen. And I am but an unworthy sinner honoured to bask in your presence.”

He nearly fell to his knees in front of her. Her giggle was his undoing.

God must have a plan for him. He was sure of it.

He held her steady. Her thighs in his calloused hands as he moved above her. Her sweet sounds drifting into his ears.

His face was in her neck. Panting against her damp, sweet smelling skin.

“Is this alright?” He kissed her skin up to her jaw. Looking down at her blissed-out face. She could only nod. Her hands fisted in his hair.

He grunted, his hips moving faster. “How long do we have?” He whispered. Kissing her jaw down to the spot behind her ear. His fingers trailing down her bodice, over her bunched up skirts before they finally reached the destination between her legs.

“Minutes.” She panted. Looking to the side, out the ajar door. Osferth followed her gaze. “You think he wakes?” She shook her head. “You powered him out by carrying him all over the village and showing him everything.

Osferth grinned. His hips rolling into hers faster. “I want my boy to see the world!”

She giggled. “Our son is only a year old and can only say Mama, Papa and make a distinguished noise when he wants food.”

Her eyes went back to him. Her smile was bright; it nearly made him stop making love to her. But then she squeezed around him. A low groan escaped his throat. “Woman, do you want to kill me!” She grinned. “No, I want you to finish.” She teasingly whispered, softly kissing him.

It wasn't long before he groaned into her lips. He held her close to him. Savouring his wife's body heat.

“God has blessed me.” He mumbled softly against her skin. “You are my greatest treasure. And our son is my guiding light.”

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osferth

thank the sweet lord baby jesus osferth is so good

no diggity he'll look at you with those puppy dog orbs the moment you snap at him

and he's like extremely careful, hesitating: "you all right, luv?"

and you know if you look at him, you might actually forget what made you mad

so you don't and resume i don't know chopping fucking carrots or some medieval shit

"i'm fine," you hiss, clearly not fine

he's a sniffling lil bitch i just know it

he'll weep cause oh no he did something to upset and he can't live without you

he'll accept your words tho cause he's afraid to poke the bear

and the next time you snap at him he'll try again and it'll go on like that until you accidentally look at that sad baby face and you melt, finally letting him hold you

obviously, he's impossible to stay mad at

sihtric

ugh so attentive it's literally unnerving

sihtric would know the exact moment something in the air shifted

he will quietly try to right his wrongs cause while he's more closed off than the rest of the gang, he's also the biggest simp

he's gonna take his sweet time making it up to you, being annoyingly sweet which quite frankly only upsets you further cause he's making it impossible to stay mad at him

him seeking forgiveness is doing everything for you

he's gonna hold the door for you; do the laundry; cook your favorite foods; tend to the children; get firewood and, water, anything

he becomes so insanely touch-starved when you refuse to give him attention. and frankly you enjoy seeing him like this, all whiny and needy when you go to bed, tucked on your side with your back to him

he wants nothing but to hold you close and have you acknowledge him, but he'd never force you to do anything you didn't want to; however, the thought that you don't want him anymore is too much to keep in his already spiraling mind

"please, my love... talk to me," he pleads softly, his large palm lying open on the space between you.

he's never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but for you he will do anything until you forgive him

uhtred

oh my days i love him but i would probably kill this fucker

the second uhtred realizes you're angry with him (which well it's probs very obvious cause you scream at him before storming out) he's just like: "meh, you'll come back."

and you love him, of course you'll come back, but he's still waiting days later and hasn't heart a peep from you

he's so damn frustrating when he's always thinking his charms will draw you back to him, that he can do anything he desires without any regard to how anyone may feel

but when he sees you with another man he gets pissed

like certified missy prissy pissed

you're nothing exclusive but that doesn't mean he wanna see you with anyone else, and he'll try to make you jealous, foolishly thinking that's what you're doing

when in reality you're literally just taking the time to kindly let down another man, having realized you don't want to be with anyone but uhtred

you're not sure whether you're supposed to be angry or hurt, but when you confront him about him making a fool of you for blatantly flirting with another woman in front of all his men, he gets defensive

he'll definitely make the "but you started!"-kinda argument, but when you explain it to him, he wants wants the ground to swallow him

While Saltwic may not have been a place Osferth would have expected to call home, it was a place that had now become safe. Safe from any and all enemies that seemed to follow Lord Uhtred anywhere he went.

But now the Lord was in Aegelesburg, ordering Osferth and the others to remain in Saltwic until he returned. So they made themselves at home, as best they could, for however long their Lord was gone.

Osferth focused himself on bettering himself as a warrior, now he had the time. Sparring with Finan and Sihtric or simply practising on his own. When he was not out with a sword in his hand, he would be praying. Saying prayers for himself, his friends, his Lord and everyone else that seemed to get tangled up with them.

It was in the chapel he first saw you. You were at least his age, if not a little older. He assumed you lived in Saltwic or nearby, though he couldn't remember seeing you anywhere else other than the chapel. Did you serve Lady Aetheflaed? Maybe you worked in a nearby village?

Those questions swam around in his head, but he was far too distracted simply by how beautiful you were.

He had seen his fair share of women, usually draped over one of the other men. But there was something about you that had him entranced, even though you had barely even glanced at him.

The image of you had stayed with him even as he left the chapel. Though he tried everything he could to keep his thoughts respectful. Even as your face seemed to linger in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

The second time, it was while he was out sparring with Sihtric. He tried to remain focused, but your mere presence was enough to make him fumble with his next strike. Inside, he hoped you hadn't seen it. Sihtric had, however, tapping him with the edge of his blade to bring him back to reality.

How could you distract him so easily? He hardly knew you. Yet you had already invaded his thoughts more than any woman he had ever met.

The third time, you were in the chapel for evening prayers. The resident priest was at the front, reciting his sermon to the waiting crowd. You were at the front, kneeling down with your head bowed and eyes closed.

Osferth slipped into a seat towards the back. But his position put him in perfect line of sight to stare at you with a small turn of his head. He knew he shouldn't, you were a stranger. You deserved at least a basic amount of respect from him. But he couldn't help it. You were the most beautiful woman he had seen.

He hardly listened to what the priest was saying as he stole glances at you whenever he could. The way your lips moved along with the prayers, head low and eyes closed. Your hands clasped in front of you, a small crucifix necklace dangling from your fingers. The soft curve of your lips as you went silent, continuing to listen to the mass.

In the dim lit of the chapel, you looked ethereal. Osferth almost found himself forgetting where he was, tearing his eyes from you as he did everything he could to concentrate on the priest's words.

Whispering a prayer of strength to himself. The strength to resist. To ignore the temptations of the sinful thoughts that lingered at the back of his mind.

But that night, was the first night you entered his dreams. There was no rhyme or reason to his dreams, but when he woke the next morning, he could hardly ignore the lingering desire in his veins.

He could see you out of the corner of his eye, sitting with a small group of friends. He was training, alone this time. Using a makeshift sparring dummy, rhythmic thunks echoing through the air as he practiced different attacks.

He tried his best not to, but he couldn't help but stop every so often. Just to see if you were watching. Working a little harder than usual, just in case you were.

But every time you did turn to watch, Osferth was turned away. Sometimes you would just steal a few glances, other times you would watch for probably longer than was appropriate. You had seen him around Saltwic a handful of times, knowing he was one of Lord Uhtred's men.

The other women, including your friends, would fawn over the two other men he travelled with. Though you knew none of their names. You had heard, however, that one was an Irishman, another a Dane and the man you were now staring at, was a monk.

Unlike any other monk you had met, however. You were sure you had never seen a monk wield a sword the way he did. Nor were you sure you had even seen a monk like him. All the ones you knew were old men. Not…handsome or young.

You shook those thoughts from your mind. That was no way for you to think, especially about a man of God. But as he used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the sweat from his face, before shifting his body to stretch for his next round of solo sparring…you couldn't quite help yourself.

Despite the cooler weather, Osferth's skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. The exertion made his muscles ache, but he knew it would all be worth it.

As he allowed himself a rest, his eyes found yours again. You were still with your friends, giggling and talking. A small bowl of fruit set between you that the three of you seemed to take turns picking at.

Osferth tried to tear his eyes away, but with every slice of fruit you lifted to your lips, he was transfixed.

Heaven help me, he thought to himself, running a hand over his face.

The way you would press the small chunks to your lips, just before eating. Even from here, he could see the soft shine on your lips. Imagining how sweet and sticky they probably were now…

For weeks he had tried not to think of you like this. To ignore the fantasies that would wander into his thoughts. He didn't even know your name, and you didn't know his. How could he think of a stranger in such a way.

Every time these thoughts would pass through his mind, guilt would race through him. Yet those thoughts never seemed to cease. You had invaded his mind. Osferth could feel his heart racing. He needed to get away, to clear his mind of you and all the things he wished you could do together.

He avoided you whenever he could. Hoping that if he didn't see you, he wouldn't think of you. But it only seemed to make everything worse. His daydreams quickly turned from how beautiful you were, how it would feel to kiss you, to far more sordid things. And those thoughts would appear at the most inopportune moments.

When he was taking breakfast with Finan and Sihtric. Seeing a small plate of fruit made his cheeks begin to flush and his stomach feel like it was tied in knots. Immediately remembering what each succulent slice had looked against your lips before disappearing.

To then imagine how those sticky lips would feel on his own, or trailing over his skin. How you would taste mixed with the sweet fruits.

His friends barely had time to ask what was the matter before he pushed his plate away and hurried off. Barely able to ignore the steady throb of his cock beneath his robes. Charging back up his room without even a backwards glance.

It wasn't that he was unused to feelings like this, he was no different to any other man in that regard. He just usually handled it with a lot more restraint. As he reached his room, he was almost panting.

The images his mind had painted still swirling around, laced with temptation. His body felt hot, the pulse between his legs was almost impossible to ignore. This was beyond torment.

He threw himself on his bed. Trying everything he could to simply will the sinful thoughts away. But it seemed to only burn stronger. Osferth cursed to himself, rolling on to his back and running a hand down his face.

"Forgive me," he whispered, though he was unsure if he was talking to his God or to the thought of you.

A frustrated groan left him as he tugged his robes to the side. Laces almost tearing as he tugged his breeches from his body. His skin prickled as it was bared to the cooler room. His cock was almost painful as his hand circled it, his muscles twitching and he hadn't even begun.

Visions of you filled his mind as his hand began to move. There was no rhythm, no thought to his pacing. He simply needed release. He needed you.

He pictured the way the sun somehow made you even more beautiful, how sweet your laugh had sounded. To how your dresses seemed to fit every dip and curve of your body, the first time he had ever noticed he was sure his skin would have burst into flames he blushed so hard.

Then remembering how you had looked kneeling during prayers. Wondering how it would have felt to be looking down as you knelt in front of him. How those lips would feel on more than just his own.

Osferth clamped a hand over his mouth as his release hit him before he could even think. Painting his stomach and his hand, seemingly never ending. It felt so wrong, thinking of you in such a way. Yet he just couldn't stop himself. You were an addiction, something he yearned for beyond reasoning.

He couldn't help himself from picturing how it would feel to have you touching him, to be bringing you pleasure while finding his own. To watch the way you beautiful place would show your bliss.

As his breathing calmed and his body relaxed, yet again the feeling of guilt set in. You didn't deserve to be thought of like this by a man you didn't know.

But that made him think of something…why shouldn't he try and know you?

Osferth was torn. He wanted to get to know you, even just find out your name. Yet every time he considered approaching you, he panicked. Thankfully, as far as he could tell, you never actually noticed.

But because of this, his imaginings seemed to only increase in frequency. Plaguing his nights and soon as many moments of his days as he could. His friends had even begun to notice. Checking on him when he seemed to drift away, teasing him when he would suddenly get flushed whenever you just happened to be nearby.

They had even begun to offer to just introduce the both of you themselves, if Osferth couldn't find the words to do it himself. He refused every time, however. He needed to do this himself.

Yet days passed. And then weeks. He would pass you around Saltwic, he would see you in the chapel. But he never managed to give you more than a polite smile. Chastising himself after every single reaction.

That frustration seeping into yet more daydreams as he would find himself laying down on his bed, working himself to a muffled release. Tonight, was no different. His imagination seeemed to be getting more creative and with that, the guilt was only growing.

Rather than disappearing to his room, however, his feet carried him toward the chapel. Desperate to find some sort of sign that none of this was wrong, that feeling this was natural. That he shouldn't feel guilty about it.

Prayer was his safe place and he needed that right now.

The chapel was quiet, not unusual for this time of night. And it suited him perfectly. He couldn't have coped with seeing anyone else right now.

Kneeling before the altar, he closed his eyes. His hand holding his crucifix almost painfully tight. He prayed for guidance, to be told what to do with these feelings. Whether to ignore them as he had been told as a child or to welcome them as something natural, as he had seen his friends do countless times.

The room was so quiet, only the soft sound of the sudden rain outside hitting the wooden roof combined with his low breathing. Osferth let himself relax. To empty his mind to allow only his prayers.

And he found that, for just a moment. Almost nothing feeling his mind, except the prayers he whispered under his breath.

As he whispered, however, other thoughts crept in. His hand tightening on the cross he held, as though trying to banish them. Remembering how you had looked kneeling before the altar, asking for a blessing from the priest. The soft stare up as you had said your prayer in response.

Osferth couldn't stop the thoughts. Imagining how you would look now. In the soft light of the candles. How you would look as he laid you down on the steps before him…

Your body felt so warm under his touch. The gentle curves, how the roughness of his fingers seemed to make you arch as he worked to undo the laces of your dress.

"Just take me, Osferth, please…" you whispered, hand gripping the back of his neck as you pulled him down for a hungry kiss.

The stone floor was cold below you both, but discomfort was not a high concern right now. There was a desperation to way you kissed him. A frenzy in the way he pulled at the last lace before bunching your skirts in his hands.

Osferth knew he could have waited, brought you home to the warmth of his bed. But you had looked so beautiful. And the way you had kissed him sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't have waited, and neither could you.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing heated kisses to the swell of your chest, finding whatever exposed skin he could find to worship as he moved lower and lower. Planting kisses to the bare skin of your thighs. Your hand tangled in the sandy strands of his hair, trying to urge him to wear you needed him the most.

And he obliged with a soft groan. Barely there licks to your already slick folds, one hand coming up to glide soft strokes into your warmth. His own body burning with desire at just the feel and scent of you. Your body arching from the stone steps, pressing yourself closer as his name fell from your lips like a filthy prayer.

"Please…"

That was enough. Snapping him out of his reverie as he now hovered over you. One hand planted by your head as the other lined his length at your entrance. Pushing in slowly, your joined groans echoing from the walls.

Osferth savoured your heat, the way you felt so perfect around him. His body already thrumming with desire, to the point he knew he wouldn't last all that long. But that didn't matter. You looked so perfect, you felt so perfect…

Both of you moved in unison. Like your bodies had been built for each other, for this. Your release found you first, your hands grasping at Osferth's back as he quickly followed behind you. His face buried in your neck, committing the scent of you to memory…

The sound of the door opening and closing pulled Osferth out of his thoughts. Immediately remembering where he was while becoming increasingly aware of the growing sticky feeling beneath his clothes.

He began to stand, trying to shift his robes when he saw a figure at the door.

You.

Wrapped in a cloak, soaked by the rain. Brushing your damp hair from your face. You stepping into the chapel, locking eyes with him immediately. The object of his affections, of his desires. The woman he had been yearning for, who had plagued both his waking and sleeping moments, was here.

There was nowhere for him to run now. This was either punishment or a gift. Which, he would have to see for himself.

But he couldn't move. Your footsteps were gentle as you came closer and closer. Panic was setting in. Was he blushing? Could you see the damp spot he was sure had formed on the fabric of his robes?

He was so lost to his stress, he hardly acknowledged you standing just a few steps from him. A smile on your face. But he most certainly heard the two words that left you. Two words that had the power to unravel him entirely…

"Hello, Osferth."

Osferth Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @aemondsbabygirl

@aemondsbabe @tumblin-theworldaway

@sylasthegrim @hoosbandewan @thought--bubble

@kaelatargaryen @leather-bound-fantasies @livmondcole

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are Osferth, are you not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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