A Collection of Odds & Ends

Here you'll find a fun collection of fanfics, they vary in fandoms. *Requests Are Closed* Est 1988 The Last Kingdom Master List Vikings Master List

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Attention Please:

Since tags are not always reliable, I will be using hash tags for my works as well. If you wish to be added to a tag list, please feel free to ask 🥰

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this is a side blog. I follow back from @b-j-d

[havinganormalone]

Fanfiction is insane. You can write porn so good you make friends.

[memorizingthedigitsofpi]

headcanoned too hard and ended up surprised by zero results on AO3

[stardustrider]

Premonition

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x fem!reader Authors note: June Jukebox Scribbles event. June 8th - Living La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin / “I feel a premonition” Warnings: fluff Word Count: 352 Summary: Sihtric is just too cute and too clueless, so you have to help him Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You noticed the young Dane Uhtred brought back to Coccham right away–mostly because he was handsome, but also because he looked like a startled deer. 

It seemed he moved with the shadows, never too close, never too loud, always alert, watching more than speaking, yet somehow he always seemed to be wherever you were.

He was there when you needed water from the well. The firewood by your house was suddenly always splitted and the leak in your roof disappeared the moment you mentioned it in passing by the training ground.  

It was almost endearing how obvious he was even if he never dared to speak up to you. 

You had tried to approach him, but it seemed that the young warrior was more inclined to wrestle a wild boar than engage in a conversation with you. 

Nevertheless you were not ready to give up so easily. Especially not tonight. The big hall buzzed with laughter and ale, music played and warriors shouted over one another.

You spotted Sihtric in the far end of the hall.

"I noticed you watching me," you said, sliding onto the bench beside him and offering a mug.

His eyes widened. 

"I wasn't," he finally managed, but his face turned crimson. 

Gods, he was adorable. 

You leaned closer. "Did you know I can see the future?"

"You can?" 

You nodded.

"I feel a premonition." 

Sihtric’s expression became completely serious.

"What do you see?"

"A handsome, strong warrior is going to kiss me tonight," you whispered.

Sihtric’s shoulders slumped and the cute brightness in his eyes was gone. 

"He's fortunate," he murmured, staring down into his ale.

You blinked.

"Who?"

"The warrior."

For a moment you simply stared at him. 

"Oh, Sihtric."

His head snapped up.

“What?”

You took his hand.

"I wasn't talking about another warrior."

"You weren't?"

"Sihtric, I was talking about you," you rolled your eyes.

"Me?"

“Yes, you, you silly boy.”

"You… you think I'm handsome?" the colour of his cheeks got even deeper.

"I do," you smiled at him.

"And strong?"

You nodded.

Hope flickered in his mismatched eyes.

"Then perhaps," he said carefully, leaning closer, "your premonition might come true."

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Okay, today has been...a ride. Seriously. This was just the absolute and complete sweetness that I needed 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Sihtric the poor, sweet, innocent thing. He was thiiis close to being crushed and brokenhearted 🫣

[oddsnendsfanfics]

📸 Emeraude Toubia

[the-king-warrior]

#repost @elizabutterworth

[gemini-mama]

I think this says it best....

Enjoy your day...or at the very least, enjoy Mark's hands 😜

AAAAAHHHHH! Thank you sweetie!

[oddsnendsfanfics]

I forgot to add this one!

[gemini-mama]

Hehe...

I would still lick it off his chest (or back, or stomach, or even...🙊) hair and all.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

The chest hair somehow makes it sexier? Idk.

Well now I may need to write this...

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Mark Rowley Monday!!

[oddsnendsfanfics]

🎥 Emeraude Toubia

Well done, Arnas!

[destinyisall-tlk]

finan + staring at eadith

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Pleasure

Genre: Fan Fiction (The Last Kingdom)

Pairing: Finan/OFC

Warnings: PWP, basically. Mutual Masturbation

Rating: M

Length: One Shot

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Happy Hump Day? I have no excuse for this one. I am not even sure where it came from, but here it is. Some good ol' PWP Finan.

The Last Kingdom Master List

“My love?” Finan called bursting through the door of his home as if he were lit on fire. The excited Irishman could no doubt be heard halfway across the village. “Are ya here?”

“I am. What do you want?” She asked, placing the wooden spoon down from stirring the pot on the fire. “What is the rush?”

“No rush.” His dark eyes lit up in the soft afternoon light. Dark hair tousled from nearly sprinting home, his smile wide under his growing beard. The warm months were coming fast, which meant in a short while the animal living on his face would be shorn down. How she hated those days.

“You run in here, shouting like a man in battle, and not even so much as a kiss?” She teased, wiping her hands on the cloth beside the hearth.

“Aye, forgive my excitement.” He winked, grabbing her around the waist and kissing her like a man who had been starved of touch for several years. A feeling that Finan knew too well. “I have brought ya something.”

Pulling at the leather satchel that he wore across his body, he placed it on the wooden table, grinning from ear to ear. The last time he had brought her a gift they had been left with weeks of song, as the blue bird he'd managed to save from a feral cat, sang praises morning and night. When it was well enough, she had let it go and lied – saying it flew away on it's own. She didn't have the heart or the tolerance to keep the bird any longer.

“Have you?” Tilting her head, she watched as he reached into his satchel, producing an object wrapped in a white cloth.

Allowing the cloth to fall away, Finan watched with amusement as she gasped and felt her cheeks burn. “I believe ya will find it most intriguing.”

“What is that?” placing a hand to her chest, she glared at him suspiciously.

“It's...” Finan held up the leather clad cock like object with a wide and hearty grin. The Irish man had very little shame for a man who claimed to be Christian. “An appendage.”

“An appendage?”

“Yes. It's wood, on the inside.” Finan explained, placing a small pot of oil on the table. “This goes with it.”

"What is it for?"

"Aye! Ya can use it when I am not here, for uh..." Finan cleared his throat as she picked up the brown object. Moving it in her delicate hand, she eyed it curiously. "Pleasure."

“Finan, I believe that you have entirely lost it.”

“No, look, it's a real thing. I've heard that some of the nuns use them, for...things in which would cause a nun to sin, if done with a man.”

“Are you saying that I should be in the convent, then?”

“No, I am saying that I know how lonely ya get when I am gone. It might not be a such a bad idea, to have a bit of relief.” Finan stood wide eyed, trying to work his way out of this one. Oh this could be tricky. “The whores, at the ale house, they use them too. Sometimes on the men.”

“So now I am a whore?” shoving the wooden cock back at her husband, she scowled.

Shaking his head, wooden cock still in his grasp, Finan huffed. “Not at all, my love. Ya are the most wholesome and honest of women. I would never think of ya as a whore.”

“What's wrong with being a whore? I believe Sihtic's wife was a whore, was she not? She's a fine lady.”

“No, I didn't mean...well yes, she's a fine lady. I...oh stop it.” Finan grumbled in frustration.

Taking joy in Finan's flustered state, she stood before him, her delicate hand reaching out to stroke his thick beard. Eyes bright and teasing, he should have known that she would take the chance to rouse him. She always took the chance to torment him, whenever she could. It was a quality he loved so much about her.

Holding the wooden cock, in the middle of their house, Finan huffed and narrowed his gaze. “W-would ya like to try it?”

A bold question.

Shrugging lazily, she scrunched her nose and gently sighed. “I suppose, shall I wait for you to leave?”

“Why would you need to wait?”

“In case I decide that I prefer it. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed.” A smile from the devil himself graced her angel like features.

Finan rolled his eyes. “Ah, is that what ya think?”

Shrugging she smirked. “Already I see that it has some differences, especially in size.”

“Now look here, woman.” Finan's brow creased. “I can take that back, just as easily.”

No he could not.

The woman he had gotten it from was strict, once he laid his coin down, this was now his to worry about. At the very least, they could strip it and use it as a fire starter. Finan hoped, deep in his chest, he hadn't wasted good coin on fire wood.

“I am teasing, Finan. You must relax, perhaps we need to use this for you?” a glimmer in her eye, told him that she was teasing, partially. She knew how relaxed he often became after they'd humped.

“I uh...I wouldn't...I don't....um. Maybe?” Finan stammered, feeling a slight drop in the pit of his stomach. “Though ya should try it first, it's your gift.”

In his younger days, while he was foolish and spry, there had been a few encounters that Finan had taken with other young men. Curious and bored, they would often explore one another, looking for release they did not have to provide for themselves. Never would Finan allow a single soul to know such a secret, yet he had always felt there were things that his wife knew, despite how far he had buried them under.

She would never judge him for his past, a lonely prince, looking for his place of belonging.

One evening, she had asked him for a whore from the ale house, needing to satisfy a craving that she'd taken. Her own past endeavours needing to be scratched once more. Another woman's flesh against her own, as her husband watched from his chair where he would often sit by the fire, sharpening Soul-Stealer or whittling. On that particular evening, he had sat as the fire light cast a golden glow against two women, tangled in one another, as if goddesses sent to earth.

“I will never know what possessed you to think of such a gift.” She chuckled at him.

“I am a thoughtful and generous man.” Finan laughed, swatting her ass as she walked by.

“The most generous.” She concluded with a snort. “Finan, do you wish to try my gift? If you do, then I will not judge.”

“For now it is yours, perhaps another time I can see what all the fuss is about? For now, I want to know, does it pleasure ya as I can?” His voice low, his accent growing thicker.

“Hmm, you wish to see the competition?”

“Aye, I do.” He nodded firmly. “I want to see if I can let ya keep it or burn the cursed thing.”

“Oh, you fool. I will promise you now, I will never love another cock the way that I love yours.” She pinched his cheek, moving to push aside the curtain to their bed. “Well,” she gestured to the wooden cock on the table, “shall we play then?”

Eyeing her with a subtle eagerness, as drew back the linen that separated their main house from the bed, Finan felt his chest grow tight. Lifting her skirt, she smiled at him with a hint of deviousness. Sliding back onto the bed, she hiked her skirt higher, allowing it to sit above her hips and ass. Excitement tinged the air as if a storm were to strike at any second.

Hands smoothing against her thighs, she bit her bottom lip and waited with anticipation as Finan lifted the appendage – as he called it, along with the small pot of oil. Moving the wooden cock back and forth in his hand, his face serious for a split second as if he were trying to work out the most intense question. The weight of the cock was surprisingly light, the leather smooth and the shape certainly didn't leave any question as to what it was supposed to be.

Standing with it in his hand, Finan wrapped his fist around the girth. Eh, he huffed. Only a tiny bit bigger than he was.

“Finan.” She called from where she was perched on the edge of the bed. Watching her husband fist the wooden cock. Watching as he rolled it over in his fist, glancing at it from every angle as if it were a new sword blade, stirred something inside. Perhaps it was a sin to enjoy such a moment? If that were the case then her soul was already damned.

“Aye?” He lifted his head to look at her, his cheeks flushing red under his beard. He'd been caught admiring the craftsmanship a little too closely. Eventually, maybe, one day he would agree to test it himself.

“Are we going to play or are you going to sit there and admire it all day?” Teasing, she winked and slid her body back further.

“Hold your horses.” He tutted at her with a slight chuckle. “It needs to be prepared. First, you put the oil on it.” He explained, tipping the lid off of the small pot. “Just a bit.” He cautioned, dipping his callused finger tip into the pot of oil that he had brought with him. The oil had a light floral scent, though not too overbearing. Smearing the oil against the wooden cock, Finan's brow creased in concentration. “Only a little, will do.”

“Only a little.” She repeated, propped on her elbows watching him prepare the gift that he had so thoughtfully brought her.

“Once it's coated,” he held it upright allowing a bit of oil to drip onto his hand, “ya um...did ya want to?”

“Oh, I've never...fingers sure. Would you?” She felt her cheeks heating with the admission. Finan wasn't a fool, he understood that a woman needed pleasure as much as a man, even when she had to create the pleasure on her own. Hence why he had brought home such a gift.

“If ya want me to stop at any point, tell me.” He took a step forward, kissing her cheek and grinning. Beard tickling her skin, she nodded and held her breath. Chest tight and stomach in knots, she laid back allowing Finan to take control.

Parting her legs, he swiped an oil soaked finger against her folds. Wet already, as he suspected she would be. Placing a kiss to her bare thigh, he took a second to glance up at her. Bottom lip between her teeth, chest barely moving. He reminded her to breathe. Inhaling deeply, she felt the smooth leather pressing against her. An unfamiliar sensation.

What an odd, yet arousing feeling.

Slowly pressing the tip to her wet folds, Finan watched her like a hawk. He knew her well enough to stop or continue, although he wanted her to say it.

“Are ya good with this?”

“I am.” She swallowed hard, fingers digging into her skirt in anticipation of what the next moment would bring.

Angling the wooden cock just so, Finan slid it the rest of the way into her. Gasping and rocking her hips ever so slightly, her eyes fluttered and Finan watched. Waiting for his next command.

“Oh that is...” She drew a deep breath as the foreign object invaded her body. She was certainly no maiden nor was she innocent to the pleasure of a man. She and Finan had been together for three winters, married for two. In that time they had had their fair share of intimacy, even engaging in the occasional fuck behind the ale house when they'd had a few too many and couldn't wait to get home.

“How is that?”

“It's...different, but not a bad different?”

“Ya look like an angel.” He commented, taking in the sight of his wife spread on their bed as the wooden cock took his place inside of her. Finan slowly moved the object back, causing her to whimper at the emptiness it created. In a swift second he pushed it back inside, earning a pleased gasp and moan.

Finding the rhythm with his hand around the end of the wooden cock, Finan watched in awe as she stretched and took it perfectly. Many nights he had watched as she devoured his cock, taking every single inch without hesitation or complaint. To think that when he was gone, for seasons at a time, she wouldn't be left feeling so frustrated or angry whenever the ... need arose.

Her body felt as though it had been cast into the fire, heating with each stroke that Finan took. She opened her eyes, watching as her husband delicately orchestrated each movement with grace and precision. Deep in concentration, Finan was taking this as seriously as he took each move and swing of his sword on the battle field.

“Finan.” She gripped his forearm, tightening the grip as the wooden cock intruded on her. “Oh.”

“Would ya like to try?” He placed her hand on the object, his hand over hers, guiding the pace. “When you're ready, I'm going to let go.”

Clasping the wooden cock in her hand had been awkward at first, attempting to get her hand around it and be comfortable. Under Finan's guidance she managed to keep the pace of the strokes going, her wrist aching but not wanting to give up until she reached that peak of bliss. As promised, once she got the hang of it, Finan's hand slipped away and he took a seat on his chair.

Removing his sword and loosening the tie on his trousers, to get comfortable. Settled he began to palm his growing cock. Straining against the confines, begging for attention. Watching her body quiver as she worked the wooden cock was a feast for the eyes. Why hadn't Finan bought her one of these sooner?

Dipping two fingers into the oil, Finan watched it run down onto the palm of his battled hardened hand. Smooth and silky, much like the feel of her skin under his touch. Rubbing his fingers against his hand to spread the oil, he grunted making a fist around his ready cock. Stroking slowly as first, not wanting to find his release before she did, he sighed and felt his body shudder at the sensation.

Oil warming against his skin, as he thrust into his fist, he could smell the floral scent from the oil filling the room. Laid back on the bed, legs wide, she moaned his name as the wooden object pleasured her. Finding a steady rhythm, she gasped and cried out as it nudged all the right places. One hand on the wooden cock, the other placed against her folds, she teasingly brushed her fingers against the sensitive ball of nerves. Twisting her clit between her thumb and finger, she arched her back and bucked her hips into the pleasure.

“Ya are beautiful.” He grunted, stroking his own cock.

Watching her writhe as she drew the wooden cock from her body, then slid it back inside to be taken, Finan's breathing began to grow heavier with each stroke. His pace matching hers, as he tightened his hand around his cock. How he wished to be the one bringing her such elation.

His seed spilling over his hand and dribbling down along his thighs. Head back and mouth a gape, he looked like a man lost. Her body quivered and clenched around the wooden object, not as satisfying as her husband, but she was certain that it would fill the void while Finan was gone for such long stretches – as he often was.

Sat in his chair, eyes closed, breath heavy Finan felt as though his body was on fire. Vaguely he could hear her moving around, the sound of soft foot steps against the rough wooden floor. He opened his eyes, when he sensed her hovering over him. Grasping his cock, she was careful to help it find her wetness, straddling his lap. Nestled inside of her, Finan felt his body shake as she moved her hips against him.

“I think ya are a bit eager, my love.” His laugh was groggy and his voice weary.

“Perhaps. But is it a crime to sit with my husband?” She asked adjusting her hips, to take him deeper.

“Not at all.” Finan shook his head, looking at her through hooded eyes.

Bending forward, she captured his lips. Kissing him gently at first, tongues finding one another, as she pressed into his chest and rocked her hips against him. Moaning into his mouth, she whimpered and steadied herself by grabbing his broad shoulders.

“Finan.” her voice worn.

“Steady on, my love.” He coaxed, hands on her hips thrusting into her. “No need to rush, sit as long as ya need.”

“I could stay like this all night.” She smiled resting her chin on his shoulder. Taking in the scent, sweat mixed with the hint of oil that they had used. “I love feeling your cock.”

“Aye, my cock agrees.”

“You fool.” She swatted him in the chest.

“Do you think that will do, while my cock is away?” His eyes trailing across her face and along her lips. How he loved her lips. Once they had caught their breath maybe he would ask her how she felt taking the wooden cock in her mouth as she often did his.

“I must say, the gift. Oh my,” she paused, twisting the string to the cross around his neck, “what a thoughtful present for your wife.”

Tags: @lord-aldhelm @persephones-journey @alexagirlie @stardustrider @gemini-mama @kingslionheart @masked-lost-girl @narilwrites @thelettersfromnoone @prithee-make-way @thenameswinter99 @adsagsona @geekandbooknerd @gearhead66 @grlwtskulltattoo @deandoesthingstome @lauvesbookshelves @witchezandwonderz

[lordaethelredsworld]

This is Aldhelm... For those who didn't know much about him yet. He was previously the right man for Lord Aethelred (in Season 2 and 3) but then he paired with Lord Aethelflead more than ever.

The man behind Aldhelm is very creative. I love this short video

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

fanfic writers are so gorgeous

[lord-aldhelm]

JULY 14, 2021

From Jon East's Instagram page (the director for TLK)

Aldhelm and King Ceolwulf II casually chatting.

[auroracalisto]

☆ day six: sihtric of dunholm ☆ — the last kingdom sihtric x gn!reader with the following prompt: Inexperienced. Infallible. Inescapable.  w/c: 1.8k words a/n: argument-ish convo that leads to somewhere? but the somewhere is not written, so it's more or less up to your imagination what that somewhere is click here for the original event post. MASTERLIST

Inexperienced. Infallible. Inescapable to Sihtric's busy mind. 

You were everything to him, and yet, you were everything that he tried to avoid. He would ruin you. He was sure of it. He would hurt you, curse you—keep you from becoming the very best commoner you could be.

Hell, he knew it was stupid.

Battle had never graced your innocent eyes. Not in the grand scale that he has seen it, the blood, the terror. Death had yet to kiss your lips, begging for you to follow.

You were one of the few who had yet to have any sort of romantic experience, and Sihtric had been one of the first to pull that out of you—ale had not been kind to you the evening of. A confession never came, though, and the admission of his crush continued to keep under wraps. Even with ale singing your name.

Sihtric didn't want you to know. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

You didn't want him to know, either.

You would much rather go off into another's battle, weaponless, than ever let him know exactly how you feel.

For why, you had no answer. The fear of Sihtric's untimely death, the fear that you would tell him and lose him in the same breath. Was it truly this fear you kept onto the reason you did not want him to know? 

It had only been a few weeks after your drunken state. Sihtric had taken you home that night and you did everything in your power to avoid the Dane. Embarrassment became you, rooting itself deep into the woven patterns in your clothing.

And yet today, you found yourself in the mix of Lord Uhtred's vagabonds, traveling to Coccham on a path unfamiliar to you. You kept away from Sihtric, only answering him with a smile if he looked your way. 

He made your heart beat, fast enough you were sure it would gain wings and fly away. 

If only you knew he felt the same.

It was as if the two of you played some grand game of hopscotch, carefully hopping over the thrown stones, coming close to crashing but staying upright just in time to win. Only, neither of you were winning this game.

He needed you to know, despite the fear that he held deep within. He wanted to shout it from the mountain tops, from the cliffs overhanging the vast oceans. The gods already knew. Now it was up to you. You would know, and soon. He was tired of waiting.

Sihtric led his horse over to yours, your name escaping him to catch your attention.

You glanced over at him, tense smile prepared as you gripped onto the reins, ready to go and lead your horse elsewhere.

"Don't go," he quickly said, stopping you from pulling away. His jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he watched you. His frustration was palpable. "You have avoided me for weeks now," he said, keeping a steady rhythm with your horse. "It is as if you have crossed me out of your life completely. For what reason?"

For what reason? You had no true reason. No reason that would sound... viable, if you said them aloud. 

Your silence spurred him on.

"Truly you must take me for some sort of miscreant to avoid me so," he said. 

Finan piped up from somewhere behind you: "Leave them be, Dane!"

His head shot in his direction. "I did not ask for your input, Finan."

He raised a defensive hand and guided his horse to move before yours, leaving the two of you behind the others and pretty much alone. 

His interjected did not stop Sihtric. "Did I do something? Have I offended you in some manner for you to go and pretend we do not know each other?"

"No," you began, but Sihtric was not finished.

He had an entire argument set up. "I do not know what it was that I did to you, but I promise you, I—"

He paused. You had said no. He blinked slowly, lips parting. He had been prepared for you to say yes, or something to that regard, and yet, you didn't. You...

"You didn't do anything," you reasoned, frowning at him. "It is my fault."

"You... your fault? No, no—"

"—I am scared," you blurted.

"Scared? Of who? Me?"

"No," you shook your head. "I do not want to get close to you."

His jaw clenched once more, hands tightening on the reins. "What?" His voice was tense, yet beneath it, if you truly went looking, you'd find the hurt he held onto more than anything. 

"No," you repeated. "If I get close to you, then I risk so much, Sihtric."

"You risk—" he sputtered indignantly. "What do you risk? Being friendly? Having someone look at you like you painted the flowers, hung the stars by yourself? Having someone look at you like the gods gifted you to this world?"

You eyed him warily. That was your concern. 

"And what happens when I let something like that into my life and somehow, it all goes wrong?"

"How would it go wrong?"

"You live and breathe for Lord Uhtred. Who is to say that you would not follow him to his death?"

Sihtric tensed at your words. He looked away, finding the back of Lord Uhtred's head many paces ahead of you. No one could hear your argument. 

"I would not," he said defensively.

"Yes you would," you countered, unable to help from rolling your eyes. "You would, and that is what scares me most."

Sihtric scoffed. "Scared of death? You have lived your life thus far without the comforts of a lover, and you are more scared of death than being alone forever?"

"I do not need a lover if it means I will mourn them in the end."

He blinked owlishly, heterochromatic eyes finding yours. "You would only mourn the love you shared. You would love until you couldn't, and then you would remember then the rest of your life. Why is that such a bad thing?"

"I do not want it for myself."

"You do not want it, or you do not know how to deal with it?"

Your silence was loud as you stared at him, stopping your horse entirely. He stopped a few paces ahead, horse turning to the side just so he could look at you properly. 

"Love does not have to be a battlefield," Sihtric said. "Neither does it need to be something you fear. It is... it is beautiful, and righteous, and everything that you deserve."

You mulled over his words. Love was something you already had—you just hadn't shared it with anyone else. Hadn't shared it with the man you knew you loved more than anything. 

"Sihtric..." you began.

"I love you," he said. "I am sorry that I am only telling you now. I—I wasn't going to. I was going to take it with me until the day I died. I know you are not as I am. You are pure, and perfect, and so innocent that I would ruin you. But I cannot sit here any longer without telling you, knowing that you are so scared of something so... so..."

"So human?"

His eyes blinked rapidly this time. "Yes. So human. The gods may have blessed me with my heart, but they do not know what it is that I feel when I look at you. I fear I will ruin you, but that fear is not as strong as the fear of you not knowing is."

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and you averted your gaze.

He said your name, guiding his horse in your direction until the two of you were side by side, both horses facing opposite ways. He reached out a strong, calloused hand, taking yours in his own. 

"It is foolish, I know, but you must know that it is true. I have never lied to you, and I am not starting now."

Your brows furrowed, but you did not pull away. You went to speak again, but the sound of Uhtred's voice ringing out across the field stopped you.

"Come now, lovebirds! Coccham will not come to greet us if we stay here any longer!"

Sihtric cursed under his breath and let go of your hand, nudging his horse to move once more. 

You settled into a tense silence, shoulders scrunched together and eyes trained on Uhtred in front of you. The truth of Sihtric, the truth of you, sat on the tip of your tongue, waiting for you to take it in and devour it whole. You deserved it. Sihtric did, too. Even if it meant you would have to mourn him longer than you ever had to love him.

You bit your lip, glancing at Sihtric as he rode alongside you. He went the same speed as your horse, watching and waiting for something more to happen. 

When you said nothing, he remained silent. 

He looked so handsome there, dark hair and beautiful eyes finding the sunlight so perfectly. The gods above, his gods, must have took special care in creating such a beautiful man.

Battle may have never graced your eyes, and death had yet to truly kiss your lips, but if it meant that you could love a man such as Sihtric Kjartansson, then so be it. You would face death in stride, taking out those around you if it meant that you felt the love he was willing to give. 

He caught your eye, a small smile forming on his lips despite the tense nature of your conversation.

"I do mean it," he softly said. "Every word."

"I know," you answered, nodding your head without much give. You let out a soft sigh, averting your gaze. "It is the truth that scares me most."

"The truth," he echoed. "The truth is that I will be the best you have ever known."

A soft laugh finds its way through the clearing. "You would be the only man I have ever known in such a way."

He grinned. "So be it. I will be the only man you have ever known that way, and I will be the only one to ever know you that way. Once you let me in, you will never want for anyone more."

You rolled your eyes. "Sihtric, I am going to have a conniption."

His smile only widened. If he could speak to you this way, then surely that meant good news for him. 

"When we return to Coccham, would you do me the honor of allowing me to show you exactly what I mean? Whether it be just talking or something more."

Your eyes widened. Gods, he was ridiculous. You looked at him, feeling that familiar warmth of embarrassment settle between your heart and your ribcage. Your mind screamed at you to say no, but your heart begged you to say something far simpler, something far more dangerous. You let yourself breathe, and the answer came forth without hesitation:

"Yes."

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Uhhhhh!!! Sihtric, seriously, baby. This had me a bit on edge. Were they going to be together? Were they going to go their separate ways? I loved this!

[midwrites]

for @eiriniko

There’s thunder rumbling in the distance. Lightning flashes over the road, once, then twice before the car shakes along with the incoming storm. Sihtric wonders if this all could have been avoided if they had stopped in that gas station three or four miles ago, when the sky was still clear and Finan kept jabbering about how full the tank was, and how they would only stop for ice-cream before Essex came into view. Golden hills extend as far as his eyes can see, the dark clouds muting their glow.

Finan ducks to peek through the window, his arm surely slung over the roof of Father Beocca’s beat up Ford Fiesta. “We ain’t gonna make it to see the baby monk graduate, are we?”

“He forgot to replace the spare tire, didn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“And you still have no reception?”

“Nope.” Finan pops the p in that characteristic way that oscillates in between comical and desperate which makes Sihtric unable to be mad at him. Laughing about the whole situation is the best thing they can do before they start getting wet.

The sun nips against his skin when he leaves the car, his eyes adjusting to the light before he puts his sunglasses on and tries to catch a glint of some car of other that could be coming down the snaking country road—to no avail. “We could wait out the storm inside the car,” Sihtric offers half-heartedly, his dead phone in one pocket, the sliotar that was rolling over the dashboard ten minutes ago getting passed from one of his hands to another. Something to busy his hands with, his mind.

Finan furrows his brow. “That gas station cannot be more than an hour away.”

“Think that we can outrun the rain?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Finan replies with one of those smirks that always mean trouble. One of those smirks that could lead Sihtric anywhere.

The keys get stuck in his back pocket along with his wallet, the ball they pass down as they walk by the side of the road, both of them oddly quiet, listening to the rumbling of thunder following them along with the rustling of wheat, the hissing of the wind against the trees.

“D’you think he’ll be very angry about it?” Finan asks, throwing the ball high before he tosses it back to Sihtric.

“If we tell him that Uhtred forgot about the tire…” And off to Finan it goes.

“He’ll probably blame us for not having checked the trunk before we left.”

The sliotar flies back to him. Sihtric doesn’t catch it in time, too entranced with how the sun shines in between the thick strands of Finan’s hair, turning dark brown into syrupy gold.

“Touché,” Sihtric acquiesces, watching the ball tumble down and roll, just as the first thick raindrops hit the road.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Oh god that is absolutely Sihtric and Finan to a tee!

[gemini-mama]

I think this says it best....

Enjoy your day...or at the very least, enjoy Mark's hands 😜

AAAAAHHHHH! Thank you sweetie!

[oddsnendsfanfics]

I forgot to add this one!