Fire, smoke, and herbs drifted through our woods. Thank Gods—Swarog, Mokosh—they protected my land, that's why we can have a kind winter and a mouthful summer. Then they came. First time we thought it was Vikings; we have a lot in common, plus they were good in trades and goods, which they bring. But they were different. Wore some strange wooden simple geometric thing—they called it a cross—and they believed in one god. How pathetic.
Not everybody.
When our lord came up to the gates, he saw them. There were few people, but mostly three of them was on top. The one—looked like a viking with long hair and a sword in amber—looked up to my lord. Behind him there were two men: one with a beard and a cross on his chest, and the other looking different, some kind of north danger, half-curl of his hair tossed to his neck, but the other was nearly bare-shaved.
"Who are you?" My lord asked.
"I'm Uhtred from Bebbanburg," the amber-sworded man answered, his voice low and steady, carrying the cold air of the northern seas.
My lord narrowed his eyes, studying the strange cross dangling from the bearded man's neck before looking back at Uhtred.
"You carry iron and the scent of war into peaceful lands. What do you want with us?"
Uhtred stepped forward, unbothered by the heavy stares of our guards. "We seek trade, and shelter from the coming storms. We mean no blood here."
Behind him, the north danger—the one with the shaved head—shifted. His dark eyes flicked over the palisade, tracking every archer, every movement, like a wolf testing the wind. When his gaze briefly caught mine, a sudden, sharp heat rushed through my veins.
My lord studied them for a long moment, then gave a sharp nod.
"Very well. You may enter. But break our laws, and the forest will take your bones."
"Fair enough," Uhtred muttered, a faint smirk touching his lips.
They were led toward the clearing, but as the evening shadows stretched across the grass, my mind was no longer on the lord's guests or their strange wooden crosses. It was on the wild, sharp-edged northern warrior. I slipped away from the firelight,ready to brew something that would make him forget every god but the ones breathing in our woods.
Every man looked at them suspiciously, but me and the other women couldn't stop looking and adoring the new coming guests. My lord stepped forward, greeting Uhtred:
"I have heard of you, Uhtred of Bebbanburg," my lord said, eyeing the strange northern steel at his side. "They say you dance between kings and gods, and that your blade is as sharp as your tongue."
Uhtred met my lord's gaze with an easy, unbothered smirk, resting a hand on the pommel of his amber-hilted sword.
"They say true things, my lord," Uhtred answered, his voice steady and carrying the weight of a dozen battles. "Though Alfred and I have had our share of arguments, I know how to keep a bargain. We seek only trade, rest, and safe passage through your woods."
My lord studied him for a long beat before giving a firm, cautious nod.
Me and a few women carried the horses to the stables. The one with the beard—Finan, that was his name—chuckled and started a charming assault on my friends with his strange accent.
"Lord, I need to tell you one thing," Finan called out with a wink. "You have the most pretty women here!"
Without a word, I came up to Uhtred's other warrior, the one with the shaved hair on the side, and grabbed his horse's reins. I felt his intense look burning right through me, and I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in my chest.
He didn't hand over the reins right away. Instead, he leaned down slightly from his saddle, his two different tint eyes locking onto mine, sizing me up just as sharply as I was sizing him up.
"Careful, little bird," Sihtric said, his voice a low, gravelly hum that sent a shiver straight down my spine. "This horse bites strangers."
"Then it will fit right in here," I answered, keeping my chin up, refusing to look away from those dangerous eyes.
A slow, crooked smirk touched the corner of his mouth—just on the side where his hair was shaved close to the skin. He finally let go of the leather, his knuckles brushing lightly against my fingertips, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. As I led the beast away toward the stables, I knew my heart was already pounding too fast for just a simple meeting of travelers.
- And your woman have a sharp tongue - the man added, and Finan and my lord laughed.
You brought the horse, and after this, everybody prepared to feast. The bread was warm, the meat was hearty by the gods, and our wine melted the travelers' tongues. The hot fire brought everybody in the mood; we were with the gods. Me and the other girls wore linen tunics and colorful wreaths to celebrate Midsummer night, the one hot and spiritual thing.
-I wanted Dobromir to be my man - one of my friends said when she prepared to toss her wreath on the water.
I stood by her side and looked over to the three of our guests. They were sitting and drinking wine, and I saw his mismatched look and cocky smirk. I shyly tossed my gaze away and stepped back to my friends.
- I want him - I said.
- I heard he was a Dane, but came to Uhtred's pack - one gossiping woman said
- And he’s a bastard, but he’s strong and can fight - the other whispered.
-Did you know his name? - I asked.
They giggled and looked at me.
- Ask him something smart, maybe you don't shit yourself.
The girls mocked me, and I walked away to the fireplace where they sat with my lord.
I grabbed a gallon of wine and politely asked:
- Lord, more wine?
My lord nodded, and then the man with the mismatched eyes tossed a cup to my side.
Finan laughed, and then I heard his name:
- Oh, Sihtric, don't scare the poor girl.
Sihtric. That's what I need.
I nodded politely, stepped back from the hearth, and slipped away into the shadows of the encroaching timberline. I needed something different from the predictable, familiar men of your village, and the foreign warrior with the mismatched eyes and wild dark curls was absolute perfection for this.
I hurried through the winding dirt paths until you reached the secluded hovel of the local witch. Baba sat hunched on a low wooden stool, her withered hands deftly sorting through piles of dried mugwort, valerian, and St. John's wort by the faint, flickering glow of a tallow candle. She didn't even look up as I burst through the heavy leather flap of the doorway; she already knew the pulsing, desperate rhythm of your heart.
I rushed forward, dropping to your knees beside her stool, and rushed out the words:
- I need something to...
-To have the Dane tonight, - Baba finished for me, her rasping voice cutting smoothly through the air.
She knew everything. She could speak with our gods and ancestors like no one else in the settlement, her mind tethered to the unseen world. With a slow, toothless smile, she reached into a stained leather pouch and pulled out a small, roughly woven sachet filled with dark, crushed leaves and pungent roots. She thrust it into mine trembling palms and barked her instructions:
- Burn these when the fire is roaring highest, let the smoke wrap around him, and whisper his name to the night wind. Hurry up, the Midsummer rites have started, and the veil is thin. Do this right, and he will be yours before the embers die.
I thanked her, clutching the sacred bundle tightly against my chest, and sprinted back through the dark, fragrant woods toward the blazing warmth of the main celebration.
The heavy, hypnotic beating of drums and the trill of wooden flutes filled my ears, vibrating straight down into my bones. The roaring bonfire seemed to speak directly through me, its rising sparks carrying my deepest desires into the starry sky. Everything around me melted into a sweet, dizzying blur. Laughter echoed through the clearing, and shadowy figures spun wildly in chaotic, intoxicating dances around the flames.
Stepping close to the edge of the crackling fire, I closed my eyes, untied the sachet, and tossed the potent herbs straight into the heart of the golden blaze. A thick, sweet-scented plume of smoke billowed up into the night air, and right through the haze, I whispered his name into the roaring heat, following the witch's instructions down to the very last word.
I felt like time itself had slowed to a crawl, the chaotic music and roaring laughter of the feast fading into a distant, muffled hum. I closed my eyes tightly against the thick plume of herbal smoke, letting the magic of the Midsummer night settle deep into my bones. But the moment I blinked open my eyes, the air shifted violently.
Before I could even catch a full breath, I felt my back press firmly against the rough, cold bark of a towering pine tree, safely swallowed by the shadows just outside the ring of firelight.
A heavy, muscular warmth pinned me there, and a pair of hot, hungry lips grazed lazily against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a sharp, electric jolt straight down to my toes.
I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat, and my eyes flew wide open.
There he was.
Sihtric.
His dark, mismatched eyes burned with a wild, possessive intensity that looked less like a man and more like the very forest spirits we had been invoking all evening. Before I could even utter a sound, his strong, calloused hands—rough from sword hilts and reins—gripped firmly onto my chin, tilting my face upward with an undeniable demand. He didn't hesitate. He crushed his lips against mine in a deep, rough, and fiercely hungry kiss that completely stole the air right out of my lungs.
I looked up at him with pure, ravenous hunger, my breath coming in hot, shallow gasps. A dark, vibrating laugh tore from his throat, a sound rich with wicked satisfaction. Without a second thought, his hands moved with rough urgency, tearing the thin linen of my tunic apart at the seams. My bare breasts spilled out into the cool night air, instantly sensitive and aching under his gaze.
-I need to taste you - he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly growl.
Before I could process the words, he leaned down and took my nipple and the fullness of my breast straight into his warm mouth. I gasped, a loud, wanton moan tumbling past my lips as a jolt of liquid heat shot straight down to my core. Overwhelmed by the exquisite friction, I instinctively arched my back, pushing myself deeper into his mouth to offer him more of me.
Suddenly, he pulled back just an inch, a wicked glint in his mismatched eyes. Reaching for his wooden cup, he poured the thick, golden, amber liquid honey straight onto my chest. The sticky sweetness spilled over my skin in the firelight. I was entirely lost in a sensory trance, whimpering as I pressed my chest further toward him, offering the feast. He didn't hesitate; he began lapping the sweetness from my collarbones and breasts like a possessed man, his tongue hot, fast, and insatiable.
Then, moving with sudden, aggressive energy, he grabbed my hips and spun me around, pressing my body flat against the cool, dew-kissed grass in the shadows. The distant crackle of the fire and the muffled sounds of the feast faded away, leaving only the sound of our heavy breathing.
With rough, impatient movements, he tore the remainder of my dress away, stripping it off and tossing it aside into the dark. I spread my legs wide for him, an instinctive, sweet invitation born of the pagan night and the burning magic in my veins. A dark, approving laugh rumbled in his chest as he tore his own tunic over his head, shedding his clothes to bare his muscular, sweat-sheened body to the moonlight.
-Let's see if your tongue is still sharp - he murmured, his voice thick with lust.
Instantly, I felt two long, calloused fingers slide deep inside my labia and push hard into my pussy. A loud, shameless moan broke from my throat as he began pumping his fingers inside me in a steady, building rhythm. Right as my head spun, I felt the wet, heavy heat of his tongue pressing against my sensitive flesh. He sucked, licked, and swallowed every drop of my slickness, taking everything I had to give with a greedy, relentless devotion. I moaned loud and wild, sounding like I was possessed by our lake demons, completely unable and unwilling to stop.
- Gods! You're perfect - Sihtric praised, his voice rough and breathless.
He spread my pussy lips further apart with one hand, pressing his thumb firmly down against my most desperate, aching spot. I cried out, my voice hitching in agony and pleasure as I violently arched my back off the grass. He began massaging the spot with a cruelly fast, punishing rhythm, while his tongue continued to lap my juices with terrifying precision.
-Give it to me! Right now! - he commaned, I losing the last shreds of my mind to the fire in my blood. My first orgasm came and he lick every sweet drop from my pulsing womb.
Sihtric grabbed my hips, flipping my body without a second of hesitation. I dropped onto my knees, bending low, and let out a fierce roar into the dark as his hard, thick length pushed deep inside me.
The entry was hard, sharp, and utterly breathtaking. I felt him filling every muscle, pressing against every sensitive wall of my body. He gripped my hips tighter, a deep groan vibrating in his throat, and his movements turned instantly fast and aggressive.
- I was thinking about this cunt when the gates were open! - he confessed, his voice thick and gravelly with lust.
To emphasize his words, his heavy palm came down in a sharp, stinging slap against my bare ass cheek. I moan loudly, very loudly, the sudden shock and friction sending a fresh wave of heat straight to my core.
He pounded into me with relentless force. Desperate for a glimpse of him, I twisted my head around to watch his face. His chest was bare and slick with sweat, his mismatched eyes blown wide and wild in the dim moonlight, his breath hissing harshly through his clenched teeth as he reveled in my absolute tightness and wetness.
The frantic, punishing rhythm of his hips pushed me closer and closer to the absolute edge of my sanity. Every merciless thrust dragged high, ragged whimpers from my throat, my fingers digging desperately into the cool, damp earth until my nails scraped the dirt. The roaring fire, the distant music, and the murmurs of the Midsummer feast vanished entirely, swallowed by the wet, heavy sounds of our bodies colliding in the dark.
- Stay still, whore, and take it, - he growled, his voice thick, authoritative, and dripping with raw, unapologetic dominance.
He didn't wait for my answer. One of his large, calloused hands slid up my spine to fist painfully into my hair, yanking my head back so I had no choice but to arch my neck and bare my throat to the night air. With his other hand, he clamped down hard on my hip, holding me completely captive beneath his weight.
He slammed into me again, deeper and harder, stretching me to my absolute limit, filling every desperate inch of my aching walls until I couldn't tell where my body ended and his began.
- Mine, - he hissed against my ear, the command vibrating straight down to my core.
With a final, brutal, earth-shattering surge, Sihtric let out a savage, guttural roar as he came, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me with thick, scalding waves of his heat.
At that exact, blinding second, the dam inside me shattered completely. I threw my head back as far as his grip would allow and screamed—a long, wanton shriek of pure, broken ecstasy that tore straight from my lungs and echoed through the silent woods.
As his seed pulsed hot and heavy inside my core, a violent wave of white-hot pleasure ripped through my entire nervous system, making my toes curl and my vision star-burst. I felt our souls, our sweat, and our heavy, ragged breaths violently shatter and collide, lifting us right off the damp ground. In that wild, breathless moment, as the ancient, primal spirits of the Midsummer night watched down upon us, we weren't just two mortals in the dirt. I felt our bodies, our blood, and our very souls completely, irrevocably intertwined with the gods.
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💜
Dear Micki! Thank you so much for popping in with this! 💖
This was harder than I expected 😝 and made me reread some of my own fics.
Let's sort them by fandom:
୨ৎ The Last Kingdom ୨ৎ
It's my first fandom ever and the reason I discovered Tumblr and AO3. My sweet boy Sihtric is my husband, my first real fictional love and the reason I started writing fanfiction at all, so it was extremely hard to choose, but I think these two are the ones:
Indelicate proposal SMUT 18+ – an unexpected proposal leads to more unexpected actions as you discover the surprisingly soft core of the young warrior seeking your attention
Braiding hair – Fic request: Can I request a sihtric x reader fic where she doesn’t know how to braid, so sihtric teaches her. and when she’s good enough he lets her braid his hair for battle saying it would bring him luck
୨ৎ Bucky Barnes ୨ৎ
My beautiful sad metal armed puppy eyed hero - I love him so much🥰🥰🥰
Trying Counts based on this request, fluff, angst, SMUT 18+ , oral (m receiving), p in v, Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in kindness. Even wounded and bleeding, he flinches from your touch, expecting pain, not comfort. Can your gentleness reach the part of him that still hopes? Can you show him that not every hand means harm… and that some are worth holding onto?
Sweet on you fluff, SMUT 18+, lots of sugar and a bit of suppressed feelings Decorating cupcakes for Mel's bridal shower should’ve been a simple task until Bucky Barnes offers to help. One frosting fight, a kitchen full of chaos, and a few stolen kisses later, it’s clear the tension between you isn’t just in your imagination.
୨ৎ AKOTSK and HOTD ୨ৎ
Yes, I've fallen into this trap too 🙈
My dear husband Baelor Targaryen I would do anything for my old man
A Whore for your Prince, I don't really know what this is. I just woke up horny and decided to make it your problem. It's just me dreaming about being Baelor's wife🤷Plot? never heard of it. Just SMUT 18+ with some pinches of fluff. Established relationship, p in v, oral, breeding kink if you squint, truly it's just a girls wet dream and boy do I want that old man fuck me senseless in all the possible ways.
Sad puppy eyed honorable good boy knight Gwayne Hightower
Burnt Bread And Broken Hearts // Words: 5,8K // Warnings: SMUT 18+// Summary: a wounded knight, a healer's hut, and a love neither of them can afford
Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x fem!reader
Authors note:June Jukebox Scribbles event
June 16th - Every Breath You Take - The Police / “Every smile you fake”
Warnings: none
Word Count: 336
Summary: Sihtric pretends to be a warlord while spying in a danish camp and receives an unexpected gift
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
EVENT MASTERLIST
Inside the tent it was quieter, but one could still hear the drunken laughter roaring around the fireplaces.
The Jarl had practically pushed you through the entrance flap.
"A gift for our honored guest."
You knew what that meant.
So did the man sitting at the table.
Sihtric looked every bit the feared warlord he was pretending to be. Gold at his wrists, sword within reach, thick fur cloak on his shoulders, expression stern and unreadable.
You looked down and smiled the same small, empty smile you'd worn all evening.
"Sit," the young Dane said.
You obeyed.
You kept smiling.
Sihtric watched you for a long moment before reaching out. His fingers caught a loose strand of your hair, winding it absently around them. You flinched but didn’t dare to retreat.
His voice dropped low enough that no one outside would hear.
"Every smile you fake," he said, "looks heavier than my armor."
Your smile faltered as you looked away quickly.
"I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, not knowing what to say, what he would expect you to say.
"No,” he whispered back, leaning closer to your ear. “It’s me. I’m sorry."
Two rough, callused fingers curled beneath your chin and tipped it up, making you meet his mismatched gaze.
Shame burning in your chest you braced yourself for whatever came next.
“Are you hungry?”
You stared at him.
"You must be hungry the way you look,” he smiled and pushed a plate with bread and cheese toward you.
You snatched the bread and hastily sank your teeth in it.
“Good girl,” Sihtric watched you eat, then stood up.
You almost choked on the bread.
"The bed is yours," he said, stretching.
"What?"
“The bed." He pointed toward the furs. "Sleep."
Without another word, he gathered his cloak, crossed to the entrance of the tent and settled onto the ground beside the flap.
You watched him.
"My lord..."
He glanced back.
"Sleep," he said softly. "Anyone who wishes to reach you tonight must first step over me"
Genre: Fan Fiction (The Last Kingdom)
Pairing: Sihtric/Reader
Warnings: PWP, more or less. Breeding Kink, Cock-Warming, Exhibitionism
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: Enjoy? I mean...it's cat dad Sihtric, but with a twist? I don't know anymore, I start writing and whatever comes out, comes out? Happy Hump Day?!
The Last Kingdom Master List
Sunday Morning, a typical day to be lazy as one could. Especially in the morning. With no rush to leave the bed, stretched out against the lush bedding. A cosy oasis of sorts. Warm, welcoming, and holding you captive – or so it would seem.
Rolling over to find the warm body of Sihtric replaced with a bouquet of pink tulips, you smile and reach for the flowers. The man moves like a ghost, no sound or trace. Quiet, as if he could float undetected throughout the house. A skill he had picked up over the years that had served him well, or so he told, yet never why or how he had picked up such a talent. You pull the flowers closer, inhaling the scent almost as vibrant as the colours.
On the pillow is a pink piece of paper, in Sihtric's near perfect handwriting you read : Breakfast in the garden, bring your smile and appetite.
Sihtric had a bit of a thing for breakfast in the garden, who could blame him? It was the most romantic space in your home. Although it was by no means big, it was tranquil and relaxed, when you stepped into the garden first thing in the morning – it was like the rest of the world seemed to disappear.
Picking up your robe from the chair next to the window, you peeked through the blind at the sun cascading through the trees, leaves moving in the breeze. A picture perfect morning to unwind and start the day in a slow moving fashion. Tying the belt of your robe, you take a second to enjoy the silkiness on your bare skin. Still not bothered to get dressed fully, after shedding your clothing across the bedroom at the hands of the handsome Dane in your kitchen.
The delicious smell from the kitchen greeted you, as your feet softly land against the cool tiles in the hall. You didn't have to say a word, Sihtric had heard the bedroom door open and was ready to greet you.
“Good morning.” Sihtric sang out, against the quiet classical playing in the background. Around his legs, as always, was the orange cat with the greenest eyes. Never far from Sihtric, Citron purred loudly.
“Good morning.” You sigh, placing the large bouquet of flowers on top of the work space. “I don't suppose you know how these got in bed with me?”
“Ah, it must have been the gnomes.” a smirk lighting up his face, his eyes sparkling – one soft hazel and the other a brilliant greenish. “Do you like them?”
“I do.” Pulling at the edge of the soft robe, you find yourself shivering despite it not being cold. You had been cosy in bed, leaving it had been a bit of a chore. Although, you were certain it was worth it by the look and smell of what Sihtric was up to.
“Breakfast is almost ready, I have your tea steeping, in the meantime why don't you head out and take a seat.” Dark curls pushed away from his face, as he concentrated on getting the omelette just right.
“Breakfast, flowers, and you've made my tea? Charming, aren't you.” teasing him, you place a kiss on his cheek and he winks playfully shooing you out to the table on the patio.
Four years since you had been set up with Sihtric, courtesy of your friend Thyra. Funnily enough, her husband Beocca seemed to hate Sihtric – but that didn't deter Thyra from assuring you that he was one of the kindest people she had ever met. One of the most handsome as well. Walking into the small cafe, you had been told that he was tall, with dark curls on one side of his head – odd but whatever – and the most charming smile.
Immediately you spotted a man with one side of his head shaved, the most gorgeous dark curls cascading across the other. A shy smile and a nervous stammer is how he had greeted you. Sihtric had been a bit skeptical, but he trusted Thyra. Even if he hated the idea of a blind date.
Thyra had raved about you, whenever somebody mentioned Sihtric and his life as a bachelor. Determined that the two of you would be the greatest couple, the sweet and endearing redhead had been right. Like most things, Thyra had a knack for being right. She also had a knack for being a wonderful matchmaker.
Two years together, Sihtric had asked you to marry him. A little over a year ago the two of you had gotten married in a three day celebration. Some how, you had allowed your friends to talk you into such a party. Never the less, it had been a grand three days. By the time it wrapped up on the Sunday evening, Sihtric swore that he never wanted to see another party so long as he lived.
Stepping out into the back garden, you can't help but smile when you see that Sihtric is already prepared. The table is set with an array of dishes, covered in linen tea towels to keep the bugs away. Had he gone out before you woke? Or had he been hiding pastries on the very top shelf of the pantry again? Often times, when he wanted to surprise you, he'd take the extra time to hide things on the very top shelf, knowing that you would never look there. Hell, even Sihtric needed a stool to reach the damn thing.
In the kitchen, Sihtric was content to hum along with Vivaldi's Spring from Four Seasons, as he finished off breakfast. You could hear him chatting away with Citron, as he often did. You would joke that in your home the level of priority for Sihtric was as followed : Citron and then Wife. Sometimes it would rank Citron, his motor cycle, then Wife.
Sihtric would hear you say such a thing and roll his eyes. Always insisting that you came before anything else, although some times Citron was first. But you definitely came in before his motor cycle.
You had married a clever man.
On the table was the Sunday paper, although you rarely read it, Sihtric would leave it out just in case you had changed your mind. Picking it up to read the dismal headlines, you sigh and let it fall back onto the table. The fluttering paper causing a soft thud as it landed back on the wood. The world was something to be desired, which meant hiding away in your garden was the perfect escape.
Back here where the real world was unable to reach you.
Sihtric had worked hard designing the perfect escape right outside of the kitchen door.
From the little oasis in the garden, you could somewhat see the backside of your neighbour's home. Their windows facing into your garden, yet hidden from ground level by the hedges that Sihtric had decided to plant. They would add a bit more privacy, he'd insisted they go in before anything else. Growing nicely, they certainly had been doing their job.
Birds chirping and the odd buzzing of a bee, breakfast in the garden was truly a good idea. Closing your eyes for a moment, you listen to the sounds. From the open kitchen window, you can hear Sihtric working away. Pans creating a dull clang, and the music softly escaping.
Lost in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the door sliding open. A slight startle when Sihtric's voice was so close to you, opening your eyes you look at your husband who has a wide grin.
“Did you sleep well?” Sihtric asked, calling Citron to the door.
Reaching for the tie out leash, Sihtric securely snapped it to the yellow harness that the cat wore. It was a gorgeous morning and Citron deserved to enjoy it as well. As usual, you rolled your eyes and smiled at the man you loved. He spoiled that cat.
“I did. Although, I really wished that you'd stayed in bed longer.” You smile as the cat wanders along the patio, searching for some bugs to hunt.
“I'm sorry, I was restless. I know that you don't sleep with me tossing and turning.” He apologised, kissing your cheek and giving your shoulders a squeeze. “Besides, I thought you deserved a nice rest. You were pretty exhausted last night.”
“And whose fault is that?” You playfully chide.
Leaning over your shoulder, Sihtric's lips inches from your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “I didn't hear you complain.”
“Never.” Shaking your head with a deep chuckle, you turn to look at him. His dark hair tousled and eyes bright, he is loving every second of this as he kisses you. “Now, since Citron is out, and I have been waiting, where is my breakfast?”
“Demanding.” Sihtric tutted and pouted. “I will bring it out in a moment.”
Disappearing back into the house, his kiss lingering, you peek through the door as he waltzes around the kitchen. Approaching the door with a large tray, piled with plates, a tea pot, and various other items Sihtric returns to the patio. Placing the tray down before you on the table, he extends his arms and smiles wide.
“M'lady. Breakfast.”
“Did you cook everything in the house?” You tease reaching for the tea pot, pouring your first cup of the morning. How you had survived this long, a mystery. Most mornings, nobody dares to look at you before a cup of tea.
“Not everything, but almost.” Reaching for a plate, he places it before you. Kissing your cheek, he gestures to your favourite omelette. “I wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. Besides, we both know that most of this is going to be eaten.”
“I swear, some days I wonder about you.” You tease, taking a sip of tea.
Sitting diagonally from you, Sihtric pours his cup of tea and blows out a breath. Pretending to be exhausted from making such a breakfast. In his favourite cat mug, he adds a tiny bit of milk to his tea and licks his lips. Much better.
Citron meowed from his spot under the hammock, where he had stalked a bug. Lazing in the shade, the yellow cat yawned and stretched out. Sihtric chuckled and raised in his chair, checking to make sure his precious baby was doing okay. Rolling your eyes, you smile at him and shake your head.
It was your second date that Sihtric had told you about his furry little friend. A small, yellow ball of fluff, Citron had almost fit in Sihtric's hand. You had caught on fairly early, if you were to keep the man, then you must accept the cat – done. Easy enough. You loved them both, how could you not?
“He looks happy.” You comment around a bite of breakfast.
“He is very happy. As am I.”
“Good to know.”
“Do we have any plans for today?” Picking up a segment of orange, Sihtric looks at you as if he expected you to have some sort of diabolical agenda for the day to come.
“Dishes? Maybe a nap after we devour all of this?” You smirk, wiping your napkin across the corner of your mouth. “Not really. Were you thinking of something?”
“Not really. Maybe stay in? Get naked? Watch a movie?” Sihtric raised his brow, a grin plastered to his face. “We could also go for a walk, but not naked, or the art market. Is that today?”
Promising to double check on the art market, after breakfast, you can't help but sigh in contentment. This has to be the near perfect morning.
“Gods, you are gorgeous.” Sihtric muttered, leaning back in his chair as he observed you.
Tea cup raised, as you looked out across the back garden, the morning sun hitting you at just the right angle. A soft sigh slipped through your lips, as you raised your cup of tea, taking a sip. Licking your lips and placing the cup on the saucer. Sihtric was enamoured and completely enchanted.
If you had heard his compliment then you were playing it cool.
Sihtric often said such things because he adored the way it would fluster you. You would sputter and roll your eyes, telling him that he was foolish, despite his insisting that every bit of it was the truth. Some times, he knew that you failed to see yourself as he did. In turn, he often times didn't see the same man that you did, when he stood in front of the mirror.
“You're silly.” You commented with a coy grin.
A gentle breeze rustled through the trees above you, causing your skin to raise with tiny goose bumps. Pulling the robe a little closer together at the top, you felt the breeze go straight through you. Leaning over to pour another cup of tea, it was then Sihtric realised that there was nothing between your body and the robe.
“Come over here and I'll warm you up.” Sihtric tapped his knee.
There were times when Sihtric would look at you with pure lust, akin to an animal pacing their cage and waiting to pounce. A man who was miles away as he watched you move. Like a man from another time and place, gauging what kind of intriguing and strange woman you were. As you stood, you feel his eyes roaming you.
Shivering, you pull the robe tighter cursing your decision to not get dressed, properly. Cup of tea in hand, you take a sip of the warm liquid and make yourself comfortable on his lap.
“Better?”
“Much.” You nod and kiss his cheek.
Hand sliding between the opening of your robe, Sihtric nudges your thighs apart with his hand. Cupping you, he grazes a finger between your folds, causing you to squirm against his hand. Breathing slightly heavier, you raise your cup of tea with a tiny tremor in your hand.
“Stand for a second.” instructing, he gently pushes you from his lap as you huff. Pulling down the front of his sweats, he releases his cock, looking at you with an air of innocence. Rolling your eyes, you should have known there would be a catch. Encouraging you to lift your robe before sitting back down, Sihtric smirks.
“Sihtric, what if people hear?” You hiss as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock. Your protest was weak and he knew it. God, how good he felt filling you. Each inch more pleasurable than the last as you stretched around him.
“If you behave, they will be none the wiser.” He shrugs, enjoying the feeling of your body on his.
This certainly isn't the first time that the two of you have sat out on the patio in such a state. One reason for the large hedges, you were certain, was for this very reason. One thing about Sihtric was his taste for – unconventional sex. Nothing too dramatic, a bit of cock warming while you sat out by the fire or indulged in breakfast.
Leaning forward to reach for your plate, you made sure to wiggle around a tiny bit. Sihtric sighed and steadied his hand as he tried to take a drink of his tea. The last thing he wanted to do was spill it and burn you. Placing his cup down with an unsteady hand, he clenched his fist and slowly exhaled, closing his eyes.
He is the one who put you into this position.
Now he would have to suffer his consequences.
Oh how he enjoyed that part the most.
Steadying your movements, you continued to pick away at breakfast. Neither of you bothering to address the fact that your husband was now nestled inside of you. Sipping tea and talking about the day to come, as if it were the most common thing. Sometimes, it was.
Licking his lips, Sihtric softly brushes a few pastry crumbs from your shoulder. You turn to glance at him, with a small smile. Offering the piece of cheese that you'd picked up. Inhaling deeply, you can feel every inch of his hard cock inside of you. From the outside it appeared to be nothing more than a couple, in love, enjoying the first meal of the day.
A hand placed around your waist, Sihtric sighs and subtly moves his hips forward. Moaning softly, you bite down hard into the piece of kiwi that was on your fork.
“Easy.” He teases.
“Is this your way of telling me that breakfast is over?”
“Not at all.” He reaches around you, picking up another piece of cheese and a slice of apple. “I don't know about you, but I am still ravenous.”
“Mm.” You hum and nod, shifting your hips to create a small amount of friction between you. “Okay then.”
“You are stunning.” His voice echoes in your ear, casting a smile across your face at the compliment.
Sihtric is taking this far better than you are. The longer you sit here, the harder it is to concentrate. Each subtle movement leaves you wanting more. Every breath, your eyelids flutter and you suppress a deep moan. As if last night hadn't been enough, you were ready for him to once again bend you over. Between your thighs, the bite marks from last night suddenly began to throb and your body grew warmer at the thoughts of how he had taken control, using you in whatever ways he wished.
Broad and muscular back hidden by that damn tshirt, you knew the scratches from your nails were still visible. The sharp bites that you had left against his ribs, followed by a fleet of kisses were no doubt visible too. In your head, Sihtric's voice, heavy with desire, as he had nearly begged to fill you. Opting to finish the job with him in your mouth, you had nearly crawled out of your own skin when he got lost in the moment, pulling your hair and fucking your face.
“Did you hear me?” He asked, kissing your cheek.
“Huh?”
“I was asking, after this, what should we do? You were miles away, though.” His laugh amused and his voice soft.
“I uh.” You feel your cheeks growing warm. Why not ask him for that you want? “I was thinking, do you have any idea how much I want you to knock me up, right now?”
“Y-you what?” His brow creased and his palms went clammy. “Really?”
“Why not?” Turning to look over your shoulder at your husband, your tone nonchalant.
“Seriously?” Taken back, Sihtric clears his throat and tilts his head in curiosity. What brought this on? Normally, you would huff at him and tell him, firmly, No!
“We've been talking about it.”
“Are you saying this to be funny, or being serious? If you don't want to then...”
“Sihtric, are you going to knock me up or not? We don't have all day. The neighbours will be home from church, soon. I doubt they want to walk into the back garden and see us.” Your voice holds a hint of humour.
“Maybe they'd like to watch?”
“Don't be an ass. Either you're going to cum in me or not. Make up your mind.” You lock eyes with him. “Before I change mine.”
Groaning, Sihtric's head leaned back as you began to grind your hips into him. Slowly riding against him, your body causing his to give in to whatever you demanded. Humming in the back of his throat, he nodded and closed his eyes.
He had been wanting this, almost, more than anything.
Albeit, he hadn't thought it would be over breakfast in the back garden.
Hands sliding inside of your robe, Sihtric rests his palms against your hips. Fingers pinching the skin, as he thrust upwards. Leaning back into him, you wrap your arm around his neck, bringing his lips to yours. Fingers tangled into the back of his dark curls, an airy chuckle escapes as he pulls you against him, doing his best to fuck you without knocking over the table or creating too much noise.
This is certainly a little riskier than you are used to. Moaning into the kiss, you feel your body pulse with each stroke he makes. Eyes closed, you can't help the squeal of pleasure that erupts as his hips meet yours. Each movement leaves you wondering how long this can last, how long the two of you can go, and whether or not you will be finished by the time the neighbours return from church.
One by one, the thoughts begin to make this even sexier than you could have imagined.
Sihtric had been dropping hints for months about wanting to expand your family, nervous about the idea of children, you had been holding him off for as long as you could. The sudden change of mind had been one that you'd been combing over for weeks. Whether or not it was the right time? Would you even be a decent mother? Whatever had shifted had done so in the blink of an eye.
A grunt and a soft moan, Sihtric couldn't deny how good you felt wrapped around him. Moving your body against his, you continue to lean into him. His mind racing and heart thumping against his ribs. Fuck he had waited for this moment.
“Fuck, this is the sexiest thing I have ever done.”
“You want to fill me? Make sure everyone knows who this belong to?”
“I can't wait to see you round with my fucking seed.”
“That's it, yeah, don't stop baby.”
His hips rose, thrusting into you. Trying your best not to scream out, the last thing you needed was a nosy neighbour hearing you and coming over. Or worse, calling about a woman in distress. You moan softy, grinding your hips to his. Hands splayed across your abdomen, Sihtric leans forward, biting down on your shoulder. Your robe stopping the sharp pinch of his teeth.
“Fuck, mama. I can't believe you're letting me do this.” He grunts and pushes his hips forward hard. Jolting you into the table, you grab the sides and steady it and yourself. “You ready to cum for me, kitten?”
“Y-Yes.” You nod and find your voice.
“Good girl.”
Holding you down, his cock deep inside of you, pulsing as your walls began to clench around him. A sparse sweat coating you, causing you to cool in the light breeze. Sihtric held back a shout, with one final thrust, emptying everything he had. Gods, he couldn't wait to watch you grow. The idea of getting you pregnant had been playing on his mind, everything about the thought drove him crazy and made him hard. On one end it was the aspect of knowing you were his and there was no denying it. On the other, a baby. Sihtric relished in the idea of being a father, someone to raise and send out into the world, to hopefully help it become somewhat of a better place.
“Shit, baby.” You whimper, feeling the combination of your orgasm and his leaking around the base of his cock, covering his balls and leaving the front of his sweats damp. “You really were excited.”
No intentions of moving from your spot on his lap, you take a moment to catch your breath, adjusting the front of your robe as to not flash any neighbours. Reaching for your slightly cooled tea, you gulp it down enjoying the blissful feeling of his wet cock still inside of you – where you fully intend to keep him, until after breakfast.
“Holy shit. Babe, did we just...” Chuckling in disbelief, Sihtric's sweaty forehead rests against your shoulder. Leaning back into him, you feel the small sigh slip from your lips. Lips brushing against your shoulder through your robe, he hums. “Well, breakfast may be cold, but I feel like we've worked up that appetite.”
“Maybe we need to finish breakfast and go shower?” You muse, picking up another orange segment, taking a bite and offering the rest to Sihtric.
Taking the rest of the orange, he chews thoughtfully, followed by a grin. “We could skip the shower and go straight for that nap.”
“Or we could finish breakfast and head out for a walk? I am sure there is a quiet place, under a tree where we could...relax?” Your smile devious and your eyes bright. “I could sit on your lap and you could read to me?”
Gnawing on his bottom lip, Sihtric rolls his eyes. “You are the best and worst influence that I had ever had. Remind me, on our anniversary, I need to send Thyra a thank you card.”
Tags (using my general TLK tags for the most part) : @paula-in-dreamland @theplumsoldier @tharros-auris-black-asimi @lord-aldhelm @alexagirlie @stardustrider @gemini-mama @kingslionheart @narilwrites @thelettersfromnoone @prithee-make-way @thenameswinter99 @adsagsona @geekandbooknerd @gearhead66 @grlwtskulltattoo @lauvesbookshelves
Another week, another tag game! Please share your last sentence; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea! (OR gifs maybe a sketch for your artwork!)
Another sneak peek of Sihtric x Reader 😁
I like how this one is coming along...be sure to bring your Appetite.
Four years since you had been set up with Sihtric, courtesy of your friend Thyra. Funnily enough, her husband Beocca seemed to hate Sihtric – but that didn't deter Thyra from assuring you that he was one of the kindest people she had ever met. One of the most handsome as well. Walking into the small cafe, you had been told that he was tall, with dark curls on one side of his head – odd but whatever – and the most charming smile.
Immediately you spotted a man with one side of his head shaved, the most gorgeous dark curls cascading across the other. A shy smile and a nervous stammer is how he had greeted you. Sihtric had been a bit skeptical, but he trusted Thyra. Even if he hated the idea of a blind date.
Thyra had raved about you, whenever somebody mentioned Sihtric and his life as a bachelor. Determined that the two of you would be the greatest couple, the sweet and endearing redhead had been right.
