sunshinepanic

[sunshinepanic]

TEEN WOLF | 01x03

[sunshinepanic]

Two broken pieces

Pairing: modern!Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: thank you so much @gemini-mama and @st-eve-barnes for helping me to overcome my doubts. I appreciate your feedback and comments enourmously. I've never written anything like this before, so I was (I still am) very insecure about posting this

Summary: plot? never heard of it, pure smut with some minor good old pole-dancer/whore meeting a successeful businessman background story (oh my gosh, it sounds so like Pretty Woman 😅)

Please read the warnings!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, sub & dom dynamics, slapping, restraining, orgasm denial, slight degradation, masturbation, oral (m receiving), p in v sex

Word Count: 5,3 K

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

The black velvet blazer fit him perfectly, contrasting with the casually unbuttoned, dazzling white shirt. His stern, piercing gaze, accentuated by mismatched eyes, seemed to penetrate through the TV screen. The impeccably groomed goatee and dark hair pulled back into a bun added to his image of rugged, almost intimidating masculinity. And those rings—wow. You exhaled deeply as your eyes drifted to his hands; thick metal rings adorned his fingers, complemented by weighty bracelets around his wrist. It had been your suggestion to hire a stylist for his public appearances, and it had evidently paid off.

It was Sihtric Kjartansson, the youngest CEO in the history of Dunholm Holdings, one of the most feared and envied figures in the stock market. A corporate raider, he acquired, dismantled, and sold companies with unprecedented profit margins. A quick and ruthless predator with an uncanny knack for timing—trading like a Wall Street shark, one of the most sought-after bachelors in the country, and your fiancé, was addressing the press about his latest acquisition: a renowned family business rumoured to be facing financial difficulties.

You settled back into the large, brown leather chair, tilting your head to the side as you scrutinised his face. Pure calmness emanated from him, not a muscle twitching in his handsome, sharply defined features. His steady, firm voice cut through the whirl of voices as he, with a playful smirk on his lips, selected reporters to field questions, pointing at them nonchalantly with his index finger. You knew him too well to be deceived by that perfect facade. You could discern it in his eyes—the dark, almost empty gaze, the absent and inward look, the tapping of fingers against the desk on the rostrum, betraying his underlying agitation.

You rose from your seat and made your way to the table, retrieving your phone and waiting. In the background, the TV murmured, and you recognized the unmistakable Irish-accented voice of Finan—Sihtric’s right-hand man and long-standing friend—announcing the end of the press conference and expressing gratitude to everyone. One, two, three... you counted, and just as you drew breath to resume, the phone rang. You answered it promptly.

“Hey, I saw you,” you whispered softly, bringing the phone closer to your ear. You wanted him to know that you had been watching, that you knew how he felt.

"I need you," came the hoarse voice from the other end, tinged with frustration and impatience.

"I'm waiting. You have 30 minutes," you replied, the shift in your tone from gentle to assertive prompting a groan from the caller.

"I'm on the other side of the city; I can't make it in 30 minutes," Sihtric's voice carried a hint of alarm.

"Then I suggest you not waste your time," you purred, moving the phone away from your ear and pressing the red button to end the call.

Pausing for a moment, you regarded the phone in your hand, before searching for another number and dialling.

"Hey, Finny! You both pulled it off again," you exclaimed into the phone.

"Hey! Yeah, the contract is signed. Negotiations were tough, though. Sihtric handled most of it, as usual. You know him," Finan's voice sounded proud but fatigued.

"How difficult was it?"

"On a scale from 1 to 10, it was a 12. They treated us like a charity organisation, so Sihtric had to be exceptionally firm, but he handled it flawlessly. You know how ruthless he can be in business. You should have seen him, babydoll," Finan continued, and you smirked at his choice of words. "Why don't you give him a call? The press conference just ended."

"Okay, I'll do that! Bye!" you ended the call with a pensive smile. Finan had provided all the necessary details; now you knew what to anticipate, and you had half an hour to prepare.

"Be reasonable, there's no way I can—" the sound of short beeps in Sihtric’s ear signalled that you had hung up. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath, tucking his phone away in the back pocket of his jeans and casting a worried glance at his watch.

"Where is my car?" he barked at the pale-faced assistant beside him. Sihtric never bothered to remember their names; they changed too often. Not a single one had lasted longer than a few months. It was annoying; the youth these days lacked resilience.

He recalled his own beginnings as a personal assistant to Uhtred, one of the biggest Wall Street whales of his time. Freshly graduated as the top in his class, he had thought he knew everything about business and economics. What a fool he had been! There was no regulated working time, no weekends, no holidays. "Stock markets don't sleep," Uhtred had taught him. And he didn't complain; he just learned, absorbing all the strategies, all the advice, everything his boss could offer. He would have followed him to hell and back if needed. That was the real-life education, and that was what had brought him to where he was now.

"I'll call the driver right away, Mr. Kjartansson. You didn't mention you needed the car directly after the press conference," the youngster stammered, pulling out his phone with trembling hands.

"Useless idiot," Sihtric snorted in growing frustration. "Did you think I'm going to walk home or what?"

"Why do you always have to pick such brainless idiots?" Sihtric shouted to Finan, who appeared just around the corner.

"Because nobody in this damn city wants to work for you anymore," Finan snorted back. "They're all terrified of you. And you're not making it any easier." Finan approached his friend, placing a calming hand on Sihtric's shoulder. "The last one quit because you wanted to throw knives at him."

"I didn't actually want to throw knives at him; I just asked him to hold the target. I needed a distraction, to come up with that perfect strategy to ram the gates of that shipbuilding company," Sihtric objected with a shrug.

"Yeah, sure," Finan smirked, suppressing a chuckle. He wanted to add something more, but the pale-faced assistant, with evident black rings under his eyes, interjected, announcing that Mr. Kjartansson's car was waiting. Sihtric promptly turned on his heels and headed towards the doors, casually waving goodbye to his friend as he departed.

"Damn it, " Sihtric growled in frustration. "Can't you move any faster?"

"Sir, we're completely stuck. Nothing's budging. Looks like there's been an accident or something blocking the road," the driver gestured towards the long line of cars ahead.

Sihtric glanced at his watch again, nervously tugging at his collar.

"Why the hell didn't you choose another route? I'll walk! And don't expect me to pay for the extra time you'll be stuck in this traffic jam. It's your own fault," Sihtric bellowed, swinging the door open.

"But, Sir..." the driver's attempt to protest was silenced by Sihtric's furious glare. "Shut up, or you can start looking for another job," Sihtric growled, slamming the door shut with such force that the driver flinched in his seat.

Sihtric unbuttoned another button of his shirt and began to stride away, his long, hurried steps quickly escalating into a near run. He was inevitably going to be late.

The silence that enveloped him as Sihtric finally swung open the doors of his house was almost eerie. After casting an inquisitive glance around the spacious living room and the adjoining open kitchen, he checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time and swallowed hard. He took off his shoes and socks. Slipping off his chic velvet blazer, he casually tossed it over his shoulder and began to ascend the stairs to the second floor.

The house was expansive; while the first floor boasted only the immensely large living room with its breathtaking view of the garden and the kitchen, the second floor comprised several bedrooms with attached bathrooms and walk-in closets, a library and an office.

Sihtric had recently purchased the house. Situated in the most upscale neighbourhood, it had cost him a small fortune, but as it was his engagement gift to you, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect. Any ordinary man might have bought you a ring, but not Sihtric. That would have been too conventional for him. Instead, he bought you a house—a tangible symbol of his desire for you to become an integral part of his life, his home, his sanctuary to return to after an exhausting working day.

The last stair squeaked under Sihtric's foot, prompting a mental note that it needed fixing. The corridor was carpeted, muffling his footsteps as he made his way to the only room he knew you might be in—the large, spacious master bedroom, the only one fully furnished and ready for occupancy. All the other rooms were still undergoing renovation, the scent of fresh paint lingering in the air.

The door was slightly ajar, allowing a glimpse of the dusky, crimson light within, suggesting that the thick red curtains you had personally chosen were likely half-drawn, allowing only a faint amount of light to filter through.

Sihtric pressed his slightly sweaty palm against the door and pushed it open, his breath quickening as he stepped into the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Though it was too dark to see clearly, he immediately recognised your silhouette in the large leather armchair positioned by the window—your bare, long, slender legs crossed, hands resting on the armrests, fingers tapping impatiently.

Sihtric's breath caught in his chest at the sight before him. Gosh, you were stunning. The faint light filtering through the curtains behind you made your silhouette almost ethereal. You were wearing that black bodysuit he adored, accentuating all your curves perfectly. Your hair pulled back, revealing your high forehead and incredibly large, captivating eyes, which scrutinised him disapprovingly.

"You're late," you said, tilting your head slightly as you surveyed him from head to toe.

A muffled groan escaped Sihtric's throat at the sound of your soft, velvety voice washing over him like a soothing balm, alerting his senses, and he felt a sudden tightness in his pants.

"Five minutes. It wasn't my fault..." Sihtric's husky voice trembled ever so slightly, betraying the anxiety coursing through his veins and causing his chest to heave more heavily with each breath. He still hadn't moved away from the door.

"Excuses, always just pathetic excuses!" you scoffed, firmly planting both feet on the ground as you gracefully rose from the chair, pushing yourself up with your hands. Sihtric's pupils widened as he followed your every movement, swallowing you with his eyes.

"It really wasn't..." he began, but quickly swallowed his words as you raised your arm warningly.

"Quiet," it was not a plea; it was an order, a command not to be disobeyed. "Who do you think you are to make me wait?"

Sihtric wasn't sure if it was really a question. "I... the traffic jam... there was an accident... the highway was blocked," he mumbled, his eyes glued to your form, unable to avert his gaze as you slowly, with determined steps, moved closer to him.

"That's not what I asked. Spare me your pitiful excuses," you had reached Sihtric and stood just before him, looking sternly up into his mismatched eyes. You were so much smaller than him, a fragile doll compared to Sihtric's well-built, muscular frame towering over you. "You have upset your queen, and you will be punished for that," your eyes darkened with disapproval as they glided over his face. 

Sihtric leaned heavily against the door, closing it with his weight, his fingers let go of his blazer, letting it fall down on the floor. Slowly, you raised your hand and Sihtric closed his eyes, freezing as if in anticipation. You could hear him holding his breath and he flinched the moment your palm cupped his warm cheek, your thumb moving over his full, sensual lips, parting instantly at your touch.

"Yes, my queen," he whispered, nuzzling against your palm, his breath uneven, sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

You took your time to admire his handsome face, your eyes lingering for a moment on the long scar on his forehead and then sliding further to the smaller one on his right cheek just beneath the eye. They were barely visible under the layer of makeup the stylist had applied to conceal them, but you knew exactly where they were, and you knew there were more hidden beneath his perfect white shirt.

You knew their origins and that the hand that had etched them into Sihtric’s body had left even deeper marks on his soul. You loved this man with all your heart, every part of him, all the dark corners of his soul and mind as well as the bright ones. You loved the real him, not just the shiny, attractive facade of a successful businessman and millionaire. You loved him more than yourself, more than anything. If the need arose, you would readily give your life for him, and you were sure he would do the same for you. You needed him as much as he needed you; you just fit together—two broken pieces, creating something whole only when joined.

You took a swing, and the resounding smack of your hand colliding with Sihtric’s cheek made you flinch, feeling a hot sting in your palm. The moan that escaped his lips made you grin as you slapped him again, channelling all your strength into your delicate hand, knowing that your palm would probably burn even more than his cheek afterward. Sihtric’s head jerked to the side, and you heard a sharp exhale escape his chest.

"You’ve been a mean boy today. Haven’t you?" you purred, caressing his reddened cheek with the back of your palm. "Tell me, what do you think would be an appropriate punishment for disobeying your queen?" You took hold of his chin and turned his head to face you. "Look at me!" you commanded, and Sihtric instantly obeyed, his eyes fluttering wide open, a hazy gleam in them.

"I've been very bad today, my queen, I deserve all your wrath," Sihtric breathed, lust and longing dripping from his hoarse voice, causing the tiny hairs on your skin to stand on end. The heat pooling in your lower abdomen and slowly spreading throughout your body became distracting. You shook your head, trying to regain your concentration, to shift your mind away from your throbbing, soaked centre.

You had met several years ago in a brothel where you were working. He – a young, handsome, aspiring, and ambitious businessman who had already made his first successful steps in the fast currents of the stock market, mentored by Uhtred, one of the most influential figures in the scene. You – a pole dancer and a part-time sex worker, feeling disillusioned with life.

At just 18, you fled your parents' house to escape the never-ending brawls fueled by alcohol and drugs. After several unsuccessful attempts at securing a somewhat decent job, all of which ended abruptly due to the harsh reality that they couldn't even cover the rent for your small, shabby outskirts apartment, you reluctantly accepted the tempting offer to earn some money by pole dancing at the "local recreation club"—at least that's what the slimy guy next door, who proposed the job to you, called it. It was only later that you discovered it also involved satisfying other establishment clients' needs. There hadn't been much of a choice between accepting it or winding up on the streets.

Sihtric's busy schedule and lack of time for real relationships had made him a frequent visitor to the red-light district, and one fateful night, your paths crossed. You knew exactly what had drawn you to the handsome, slightly shy, but very kind young man. It was his eyes—their deep, expressive gaze seemed to penetrate the very depths of your soul, devoid of judgement, contempt, or prejudice, but filled with tenderness and acceptance. From the first time you served him, he treated you with respect and gentleness, a rarity in your line of work, and you reciprocated it.

Soon, he became your regular customer, and often after a passionate fuck, you found yourself cuddled against his muscular chest, just talking. He was the first to notice the small scars on your forearms. With him, you felt an unusual sense of security, and after a moment of hesitation you finally told him about that indescribable void—the feeling of being unimportant, unwanted, a failure, and a constant source of disappointment—that had driven you to cut yourself in a desperate attempt to feel something other than overwhelming shame about your own existence. It was likely the first time someone had truly listened to you, drawing you closer and whispering comforting words in your ear.

You still vividly remembered the first time he asked you to slap him. Initially, you thought it was a jest, but his serious expression and expectant gaze made it clear he was sincere. He quickly averted his eyes, as if ashamed of his request, anticipating your judgement. Yet, you didn't judge him; why would you? You understood him and accepted him completely. It was perhaps in that moment that you realised you loved him.

“I was waiting for you,” you continued, your voice low, tinged with resentment “Look what you've done to me,” you took Sihtric’s hand and pressed it to your centre, letting him feel how soaked wet your bodysuit was there. The violent sound, something between a wild groan and moan, that escaped his lips made you shiver.

“On your knees!” you ordered. Sihtric’s hand was still between your thighs as he bared his teeth and growled in response.

“You dare to object?” You exclaimed, your voice taking on a hard edge. “You dare to disobey your queen?”

“No, my queen,” he breathed barely audibly, retrieving his hand and starting to slowly slide down to the ground, his back pressed against the door, his dark, hazy eyes never leaving yours. He paused for a moment, a satisfied smile playing on his lips, before his knees crushed against the floor, his hands resting on his thighs, gaze upwards, awaiting your next command.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered in the same stern voice, turning your back to Sihtric and heading to the closet. As you opened the drawer, you cast an inquiring look back at Sihtric, who was obediently unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers and letting it fall to the ground, his eyes not leaving you. 

You swallowed hard at the sight of his incredibly muscular, well-chiselled upper body, feeling  your breath picking up as your eyes skimmed his abdomen, lingered on his biceps, and travelled further to his hands and ring adorned fingers, resting on his thighs. What had you done to deserve this man in your life, you wondered, tracing your fingers over a black leather collar and a matching metallic leash, that you finally took out of the drawer and headed back to Sihtric.

“You know your queen loves you,” you whispered in his ear as you leaned closer and started attaching the collar around his neck.

“I never doubt that,” Sihtric murmured, tilting his head to give you better access to his neck, while you secured the leash to the collar, wrapping it around your hand. 

“Good, and do you love your queen?” you asked, casually holding his chin.

“Always,” he answered, licking his lips. Your faces were just centimetres apart and you breathed him in. His cologne mixed with the faint scent of his sweat, made your head spin slightly. Unable to resist, you leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. Playfully, you teased him, running the tip of your tongue over his lips, and Sihtric let out a low groan, his arms instantly reaching out to pull you closer.

“Oh no,” you grinned, as you ran your teeth along his lower lip and bit down, hard enough to draw blood and make him moan in frustration, as you slapped his hands away from your body. “You haven’t deserved that. Not yet,” you smirked, straightening up and simultaneously pulling him away from your lips by the leash.

“Please,” Sihtric whined, “I want to touch you. Let me touch you, please.”

“You want to touch me?” you asked, a sly smile appearing on your lips as you tilted your head, relishing at the pleading look in his eyes. “I think I know a perfect punishment for you, darling,” you pulled Sihtric to his feet by the leash, turned and started walking towards the closet.

Retrieving something from the upper drawer, you made your way back to the big leather armchair by the window, where you had been sitting just moments before, with Sihtric  following behind. Reaching your destination, you pulled him in front of you and gently pushed backward into the chair.

"Are you going to be good now?" you purred, beginning to circle around the chair.

"I'm going to be good, I promise," Sihtric replied, his eyes following your movements.

"Your hands, bad boy," you whispered in Sihtric's ear from behind, brushing your lips against his earlobe and teasing it slightly with your teeth. Sihtric stretched his left arm toward you, inhaling deeply at the familiar sound of handcuffs snapping shut and the sensation of metal against his wrist. "And now the other one," you demanded, guiding his arm behind the back of the chair.

"Good boy," you praised him, securing the handcuffs around his other wrist, which he had obediently stretched behind his back, and fastening them under a hook attached to the back of the chair, placed there precisely for this purpose.

"I want you to watch," you smiled sweetly as you placed your palm on Sihtric's shoulder and moved around him, positioning yourself just in front of him. You started to pull your bodysuit off your shoulders.

With every movement, Sihtric's breath quickened. You could see his pupils widen and hear him swallow hard as you began to slide the bodysuit down your hips. Letting the fabric glide down your legs, you stepped out of it gracefully, standing before Sihtric in your black lacy underwear.

Taking a step forward, you watched as Sihtric's thighs instinctively spread to make space for you. Leaning in, you placed a teasing kiss on the corner of his mouth, eliciting a disappointed groan from him. You trailed your fingers over his bare chest, down to his abs, stopping just at the hem of his jeans and just watched how his muscles tensed, his breath quivering and hips subtly rolling into your touch.

"What a greedy and impatient boy you are today," you smirked, the teasing smile playing on your lips as you stepped back until you reached the edge of the bed. The guttural growl that escaped Sihtric as you sat down, spreading your legs and licking your fingers, made your grin of satisfaction spread all over your face. Slowly, so slowly for him to see your every movement, you reached for your centre, pushed your panties aside and started to rub your pulsing clit. 

Sihtric didn’t even try to suppress the desperate moan that rolled over his lips as he shifted nervously in his chair, spreading his thighs as much as he could, in an attempt to lessen the pressure, his cock painfully hard in his pants.

“Just watch,” you purred, leaning back on your elbow, gathering the arousal from your folds and continuing to circle your clit with your index finger. You didn’t need much, you were dripping wet almost from the very moment Sihtric had entered the room. You pushed your finger inside you and your hips started to move up and down, accompanied by your moans, getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” you heard Sihtric cursing and groaning, tugging at his handcuffs. “Don’t do this to me. You are driving me mad.”

This was the last bit you needed. “Ahhh, fuck,” you whined, pressing another finger inside you, while your thumb continued to rub your sensitive bundle. With a loud moan you came on your fingers and let yourself fall back onto the bed, your breath heaving.

As you finally gathered yourself and raised from the bed, you were met by a pair of feral  eyes, gleaming with lust from behind wild strands of hair falling in Sihtric’s face.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” you asked, furrowing a brow, as you neared him again and palmed his rock hard cock through his jeans. Sihtric groaned and eagerly bucked his hips against your hand. 

Sinking down to the floor, you positioned yourself comfortably between his spread thighs and started unfastening his belt and opening the zipper. 

“Mmmmm, just look at you, all hard and dripping for me,” you mused as you finally freed his erection. You felt your mouth watering as you looked at his perfectly formed long cock, a thick vein running from the base to its red tip. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it a slow stroke. Placing your lips on Sihtric’s inner thigh, you started to kiss your way up towards his throbbing length.

“Fuuuuck,” Sihtric breathed out as your lips reached the base of his cock and you gave it a teasing lick from base to tip. You wrapped your lips around it and slowly took him in, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue, inflaming you again. You started to move your head up and down his length, the wanton moans and hisses leaving Sihtric, spurring you on. 

You stopped the moment his hips started to move against you, thrusting into your mouth.

“Don’t,” you hissed, looking up in his lust hazed eyes.

“I’m sorry, I won’t.” 

As soon as you resumed your ministrations Sihtric’s breath became ragged again, his whole body quivering in tension while he tried to remain still and prevent his hips from moving. From the way Sihtric’s eyes were rolling back in his head, his chest heaving in the rhythm of each breath, you could easily tell he was close, almost on the verge of losing control, as you pulled back and released his pulsing cock.

“You know the rules,” your voice had again that sharp warning edge.

“Yes, I do,” Sihtric groaned, leaning his head against the back of the chair and breathing heavily.

“Good, you can be such a good boy, if you make an effort,” you cooed, stretching out your tongue and starting all over again. 

“Please, stop. I can’t anymore. Let me cum, please,” Sihtric mewled as you had brought him to the edge already four times, withdrawing whenever he was about to peak.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you,” you looked into the dazed eyes of your hard breathing fiance, looking a complete mess. 

“Please, just let me cum,” he whispered and closed his eyes, light shudders shaking his body.

“Do you think you deserve it? You are so selfish. You want to cum and leave your queen unsatisfied?” your voice was tinged with resentment while your eyes gleamed mischievously,  as you unfastened your bra and threw it at him, followed by your panties just a moment later. 

“No, my queen. I’m sorry.” 

“Spare me your apologies!” you hissed, straddling him. "Look at me!" you ordered, slapping him again, making his head snap to the side. Sihtric obediently moved his head back to face you, his eyes fluttering open. Your gazes locked, and you found yourself choking on your own breath from the love and devotion in his large, mismatched eyes. Cupping his face with your palms, you leaned in to kiss him, swallowing the moan vibrating through his body. Sihtric parted his lips to welcome you and your tongue slipped inside, finding his, twisting around it, lapping, sucking and teasing. Arousal pulsing through every cell of your body, you fought against the desire to fuck him there and now, but you lost the uneven battle.

Burning with the need to finally feel him inside you, you aligned his cock with your entrance and sank down, taking him in until the very end of his rigid shaft, savouring the pleasant stretch. After all this time you still needed a moment to adjust to his size, before starting to move your hips, setting an ever fastening pace.

Feeling Sihtric straining against the handcuffs in a desperate want to free his hands and touch you, you tangled your fingers in his dishevelled hair and pulled hard, jerking his head back and exposing his throat to you. 

“Mark me, my queen. I’m yours,” Sihtric moaned and you buried your teeth in his sensitive skin. You were aware that the marks your lips and teeth left on his neck will be quite visible, but you couldn’t care less. Inebriated by your approaching climax, you started to move faster. You rode him with unwavering determination, straining your vagina muscles around him, feeling each and every inch of him brushing against your walls and bringing you both closer to the edge with each movement of your hips. 

“Move!” you whispered firmly in Sihtric’s ear, and his hips immediately started to thrust up into you, hitting that sweet, swollen spot inside you, that brought you closer and closer to seeing stars. Your clit brushed against his pelvis, intensifying the sensation and your head instinctively snapped back from the ferocity of pleasure building up within you.

“Please, allow me to cum,” a hoarse whisper left Sihtric’s lips as his eyes rolled back into his head. 

You were almost gone, almost over the edge, as you wildly bounced on Sihtric’s cock, your nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him. Eyes half lid you watched him struggle to keep it together, knowing he wouldn’t come without your permission.

“Please,” he begged again, his lips barely moving from the self restraint.

“Keep going, yes, just like that. Oh my God, don’t you dare to stop. Fuck, aaahhhh!” You screamed as your climax started washing over you, your walls clenching around Sihtric’s cock and as if through a thick fog you heard yourself giving the command he so desperately waited. “Go on, cum for me, bad boy. Cum for your queen.”

An animalistic groan left Sihtric’s lips as he finally let go and you both moaned in unison, waves of pure ecstasy shuddering your bodies and wiping everything in its way. There was nothing else, just the two of you, immersed in a bubble of elevation and pure happiness. It was overwhelming, almost too much but simultaneously so indescribably blissful to feel Sihtric’s cock twitching within you, imprinting your walls and filling you up with his warm seed. You collapsed against Sihtric’s naked chest, breathing hard, his racing heart beat just beneath your ear as he kept thrusting up into you to ride out his release. 

You had no idea how long you had been sitting there, your nose buried in the hook of his neck, clinging to his sweaty chest, just savouring the moment and slowly coming down from your high. 

“Will you release me?” you heard Sihtric’s husky voice, while his lips gently nuzzled your hair. 

“Give me a moment,” you murmured with your eyes closed.

“As long as you need, my queen.” 

Unwillingly you raised yourself, feeling so empty the moment Sihtric’s cock slipped out of you. You undid the handcuffs and your eyes widened as you saw the bruises they had left on Sihtric’s wrists. Without paying any attention to it Sihtric grabbed your hand and pulled you back into his lap.

“Let me see it,” you took his hands in yours, bringing them to your lips and placing soft kisses on the bruises around his wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing. It’s my own fault, I shouldn’t have struggled so much against them. You made me almost cum in my pants like a teenager,” Sihtric smiled, putting his fingers under your chin and raising your head to meet his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you breathed almost inaudibly, hypnotised by his gaze.

“I love you too, my queen. You are everything to me,” Sihtric pulled you closer in his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around your small frame, as he kissed you tenderly.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey

[sunshinepanic]

"We, um… me and Christopher, we were… at the beach, and… um… and listen to me, okay? I swear to you… okay, I tried… And I just… but I… Eddie, I just don't know how to say it. He… he just… he… he just vanished."

for @buckweek 2025 - day 2: arc ↳ tsunami arc, s03e01-s03e03

[sunshinepanic]

The Kiss

note: inspired by a request from a lovely anon! I hope you will enjoy it, and thank you for sending in a request!

fic warnings: 18+. angst/fluff/suggestive. mention of alcohol and smoking.

pairing: modern!Sihtric x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

summary: You and Sihtric had a love-hate relationship ever since he had been your first kiss at a school dance. And despite the hurt you bestowed on each other as you grew up, he was the only one to notice something was wrong with you when your life began to fall apart behind closed doors.

word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

'Here you are,' Sihtric said. He nearly stormed out of the club to chase after you when he saw you leave without a word, and he had enough of it. He had enough of your behaviour. So he had followed you and grabbed your arm to pull you with him, around the corner of the busy club's terrace and into a darkened, empty and narrow street.

'Hey!' you yelled. You tried to fight his grip, but it was useless to fight a man as strong as Sihtric, and you knew that too. 

'Let's talk,' he half snarled and trapped you between his arms as he placed both hands next to your head, leaning against the wall you were backed up into.

'Sihtric,' you said weakly, 'please, I'm not in the mood today-'

'Oh, I know,' Sihtric said sternly, 'and that's why you're going to talk to me. Right now.'

'About what?' you asked, playing dumb.

'About what's wrong!'

You didn't answer Sihtric, you just stared up at him as he waited for you to respond. His warm and ragged breaths were visible in the cool night as he towered over you, leaning in close, the smell of alcohol lingering faintly on his lips. He was stunning, as he had always been, and you felt a pang knowing he wasn't yours. The curls on the unshaved side of his head stuck lightly to his glistening forehead, it had been hot inside the club and he hadn't gone easy on the liquor either, yet it seemed he wasn't quite drunk. A little tipsy, perhaps. That would explain why he ran after you, and why he had you trapped now. His duo coloured eyes darted all over your face, wild and filled with something you couldn't quite place. It could've been hatred, it could've been lust, but it could've been concern too. And little did you know, that it was all of the above.

 'Talk to me!' Sihtric grunted.

You and Sihtric went way back. In fact, your whole friend group went way back. You had met Finan in high school and became friends quickly. And it didn't take long before you met his friends Uhtred, Osferth, Eadith, Gisela and Sihtric. You were all in the same school and shared some classes, and you had been head over heels for Sihtric from the very first moment you had met him, when you were both teenagers. His hair was long with the sides shaved, and his locks were tied back in an interesting braid looking creation.

You weren't the only one who had a thing for Sihtric back then, as he was one of the few kids in school who already had tattoos. He truly was the definition of a good guy with bad guy looks, something that many teens lusted for. And oh, did you long for him too. Always blushing whenever he was around, and laughing a little harder than the others did at his jokes. He made you giggle and hide your face in your pillow while kicking your feet, whenever you thought about him at home on your own. 

Sihtric gazed at you a lot too as a youngster, so it wasn't a complete surprise when he ended up being your first kiss at a school party, many years ago. It had been a special moment for you, one that changed your life, and you had never forgotten about it. And neither had Sihtric, as he reminded you most often that he had been your first kiss, but you never understood why he kept bringing that up as the years passed.

Because anything more than that first kiss never happened between you and him. You wanted more, though. You wanted him to be your boyfriend. You wanted to be high school sweethearts and get married and have a family. But it seemed Sihtric had different plans, and you were too shy to act on your feelings, because he seemed to avoid you after that one kiss. He dropped out of school and went his own way eventually, dealing with his rocky family affairs and often getting into trouble. But that never stopped you from wanting to be with him, or simply wondering about him as an adult.

But since you were friends with all of his friends, you continued to somewhat hang out almost every week after you and the others graduated. You started going to pubs and clubs with the gang to celebrate the weekends, and to stay up to date with each other's lives as you grew up. You only didn't speak much to Sihtric, and you both weren't sure about what was going on in your lives in private. But you and Sihtric always kept gazing at each other from a distance, and his hand always lingered on the small of your back when he asked what you wanted to drink at the club, when he bought everyone a round. But besides that, few words were ever shared between the two of you.

A few years had passed already when you once overheard Sihtric, as he had a smoke with Uhtred outside of a club, when you were on your way to leave for home already. You heard Uhtred ask Sihtric why he never made a move on you, to which Sihtric had shrugged. And when Uhtred reminded Sihtric about that kiss you once shared, Sihtric shrugged again and said it had never meant anything to him. Despite the fact you and Sihtric never got really close, it still devastated you to hear that he hadn't cared about that kiss. And that made it even worse that he kept bringing it up from time to time. You thought he figured it probably had meant something to you, and that he only mentioned it to hurt you and remind you of something you would never have again. Or maybe he did it to taunt you, for whatever reason, while not knowing it hurted you all this time. And so with that heartbreaking knowledge you had left for home, and nothing would ever be the same again.

You couldn't stand being near him for a few weeks, after you had overheard his confession, but you soon found yourself in a phase of discovering other guys during your nights out. You did everything you could to take your mind off Sihtric, not wanting to look over at him as the flashing neon lights lit up his face so beautifully, and it wasn't shocking when you earned a lot of attention while dancing in your short dress and high heels on those nights out. You were always gorgeous and everyone knew it. But since you always only had eyes for Sihtric, you had never really noticed yourself how easy it was for you to dance with a stranger and earn a few free drinks in the process. So that's what you had done for years ever since, mainly to provoke some sort of reaction from Sihtric, but he always seemed too busy with a new girl every weekend to give you the attention you wanted from him. The only thing Sihtric would occasionally bring up after a few drinks, was how he had been your first kiss.

He'd always come up to you, handing you the drink he had bought for you while buying the whole group a drink, as usual. And he'd always wrap one arm around your neck to pull you closer, so he could half shout and slur in your ear how he had kissed you first, before anyone else. You never understood why he spoke of that moment, when all he did was kiss other girls in front of you, and had never kissed you again. So you'd always snap back at him, telling him how the kiss had been awful, and that you'd rather kiss some swamp monster than ever having to kiss him again. And Sihtric loved that part, he loved that you always had an answer back to him. And you loved it when he pulled you close, because you loved hearing his voice in your ear and feeling his muscular body pressed against you for a moment.

But deep down it tore you apart, because after every reminder you still had to watch him being all over someone else. So you kept doing the same to him, not knowing it drove him insane as well to see you with some guy that wasn't him. And everything went wrong once you took it too far one day, and it had now ruined your life. 

You had met a guy named Rognvaldr, who was handsome and smart, but reckless and cunning too. Your friends, and even Sihtric, had all confronted you about Rognvaldr and told you how you'd better stay away from him, but you wouldn't listen to their words. And knowing that even Sihtric was clearly against you hanging out with that guy? That only made you want to rub it in his face more, because he was finally jealous and showing it.

'That guy will ruin your life,' Sihtric had said one night, after your shady boyfriend had left the club for a smoke and Sihtric had seen his chance to pull you close without having to buy you a drink.

'What do you care, Sihtric?' you lightly shoved him, 'don't you have some girl's bed to be in right now?'

'Oh, please,' he had rolled his eyes, 'just don't be stupid, okay?'

'I'm not.'

'I'm serious,' Sihtric had said and grabbed your arm, 'that guy is bad news, you should get rid of him. I don't want to see you get hurt.'

You had laughed at that, but almost a whole year later you cursed yourself for not listening. You were losing everything you had over time because of Rognvaldr, slowly but surely. And once you realised it, it was already too late to fix it.

In the last months of your relationship, before Rognvaldr had fled the country and left you, you became more quiet and distant. You often showed up alone at the club and you stopped buying rounds for your friends after a while on your nights out too. And whenever someone asked about your boyfriend, instead of boasting about him as you used to, you just feigned a smile and changed the topic as fast as you could. You stopped posting on your social media, where you previously posted tons of stories every day to show off how good your life with Rognvaldr supposedly was. And each time Sihtric teasingly reminded you of that first kiss, you had just stared up into his eyes with a look he didn't recognise. No more boasting and no more bickering, only a desperate attempt to keep up appearances by pretending you were happy. And yet no one really thought anything of it or even noticed the change in your behaviour, except for Sihtric. 

And that is why he ran after you that one night, when you left without a word because you simply couldn't pretend anymore...

 'Talk to me!' Sihtric grunted.

 'Why?' you shoved him, 'what do you care!'

'Are you kidding me?'

You stared at him, uncertain of his intentions and expectations.

'You seriously think I don't care about you?' he asked tartly.

'Do you?' you snarked.

'Of course I do!' Sihtric half yelled, then lowered his voice as he trapped you again between the wall and his arms, by placing his hands next to your shoulders. 'In fact,' he scoffed, 'I can guarantee you that no one in there,' he briefly pointed towards the club, 'cares about you as much as I do. Because no one noticed your behaviour has been off for weeks already, but I did! And no one followed you out here when you suddenly left, but I did! Because I fucking care about you!'

'Then why do you always pretend that you don't!?' you yelled, 'you always seem to avoid me, except for when you had a few too many to drink!'

'Because that's a front, babe!' Sihtric yelled hoarsely.

You were clearly confused and taken aback by his sudden anger, and you didn't know what to say or do. And Sihtric realised he had blurted something out that he never meant to, not like that at least, and not right there.

'It's a fucking front,' Sihtric continued, trying to keep his voice down, 'because I care about you more than you could ever comprehend. Fuck,' he scoffed and took a step back, then paced back and forth for a few seconds and got back in your face again, 'you've been acting strange for weeks already, so you tell me what happened!'

'I got evicted!' you yelled and your voice broke, 'I got evicted from my house today, okay! I… I lost everything!'

Sihtric stared at you for a few long seconds, completely speechless. He needed a moment to process your words, and those words sobered him up entirely real quick.

'What?' was all he asked.

'Rognvaldr,' you said with a sob, 'he used me. He convinced me to invest in some shit I don't even understand, and I trusted him. But I've lost all my fucking money, Sihtric! And he fled the country a few weeks ago, because he's in so much debt,' you stopped talking to gather your thoughts, 'you… he left me, and he left me behind with a debt of my own. And I can't pay for it! I've been trying to fix this for months, ever since I started to see it, but it was already too late. I haven't paid my rent in months, because I just don't have the money for it, I got nothing! They changed the locks on the doors today, I can't go back home anymore. I… I can't get in.'

Sihtric was quiet for a moment. Anger began to boil in his blood, and he had to restrain himself from going full berserk in that narrow street. He kept his calm for you, because he would've punched those brick walls behind you until his knuckles would be cracked and bleeding if it was just him right there.

'I knew he was off,' he said quietly, 'I knew it.'

'You all knew,' you sniffled, 'but I didn't listen. I knew it too, but I didn't even listen to my own gut.'

'Why?'

'Because I wanted to make you jealous!' you admitted, 'because I wanted to get back at you, for always making out with girls right in front of me!'

'What?!' Sihtric yelled, 'I thought you hated me or something!'

'You were my first kiss, Sihtric!' you threw your hands up, then slapped his chest, 'how could I possibly hate you when I've been in love with you ever since we first met! But you always had to rub it in my face that we could never be anything, because you were always with some different girl making out right in front of my face! It was only when I showed up with Rognvaldr that I finally saw it. Only then I finally saw that same hurt in your eyes I've been put up with for years! But it's always been you I wanted to be with. You! No one else! And look at me now,' you laughed through your tears, 'just look at me now, I got fuck all.'

'Why… why did you never tell me?' Sihtric asked carefully.

'Because I know that kiss meant nothing to you! I heard you and Uhtred, years ago, when you told him about that. So why the fuck would I have told you the truth, if I never meant anything to you?'

'It did mean something to me!' he yelled and grabbed your arm with one hand, cupping your face with his other, 'you mean something to me!'

'Then why did you tell Uhtred something else?' you snarled.

'Because I was stupid!' Sihtric said, then scoffed and shook his head lightly, 'I was shy. You,' he hesitated for a second, then looked straight into your eyes, 'you were the first and only girl I fell in love with. And I was too shy to admit that. I acted all cool around you in school and after that kiss I just distanced myself from you, all because I had no idea who to handle it. I was afraid to be teased and mocked by my friends, because liking a girl was stupid back then. I never had any role models in my family to show me what a relationship should look like. I was scared. And that's not something I'm proud of and I'm not trying to be the victim here. Because, yeah, all of that was on me. It was my mistake. But,' he paused, 'you never made a move either. You never gave me any sign that you were into me.'

'Because I believed you didn't like me, unless you were drunk enough.'

'Pretending not to like you was only my way of protecting myself, and maybe even you.'

'How could that possibly protect me, Sihtric? How?'

'I think I just felt that… if we weren't together, I couldn't hurt you.'

'All you did was hurt me.'

'As did you, eventually,' he said and sighed softly, 'listen. Trust me, that kiss… every damn night, that kiss is the one thing that crosses my mind before I fall asleep. Every fucking night. Yeah, I should've said something, but you made your dislike for me clear too. I mean, why did you think I brought up that kiss so often?'

'How should I know,' you scoffed, 'you brought it up and then went on to kiss someone else.'

'I only brought it up because I hoped you'd tell me you wanted to kiss me again,' he said, saddened, 'I didn't know how else to approach it, and you always turned me down.'

'I just,' you stopped talking as you began to cry, 'I just wanted you. I started to lose everything from the day I lost you.'

'You never lost me,' Sihtric whispered and pulled you in his arms, holding you tightly, 'and you ain't losing me now either, okay? I just,' he sighed, 'why didn't you ask for help, darling? Does anyone else know about what happened with you and… him?'

'No,' you sniffled, 'I've been too embarrassed about this. You all were right and I refused to listen, and I just walked straight into the bullshit he told me. He took everything from me.'

Sihtric's arms tightened around you, and you heard his heartbeat quicken as your head was resting against his chest.

'He's dead,' Sihtric muttered, 'next time I cross paths with him, I'll fucking kill him.'

'Sihtric, stop,' you said and tried to push him away.

'No!' he hissed, 'I won't!'

He pulled you back in his arms again and leaned the side of his face against yours.

'So what was your plan tonight then?' he asked, 'where were you leaving to, where did you plan on staying?'

'I don't know,' you said and dried your tears, 'I don't know anything anymore, Siht. I don't know what to do.'

'It's midnight,' he argued, 'you were just going to leave without knowing where to?'

You shrugged. Yes, you had left the club, but you had no destination in mind at all. You then broke down in tears again, and Sihtric held you tightly in his arms as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

'I'm texting the others,' he said.

'No! Please, don't tell them about this-'

'I'm not,' Sihtric calmed you, 'I'm texting them that you aren't feeling well and that I'm taking you home.'

Sihtric was quick to order a cab after informing your friends, and he held you wrapped in his arms as you waited. It was a cold night, and you were tired and shivering in his arms while you wept quietly. He hushed you softly every now and then, both not speaking due to a lack of words and still trying to grasp what exactly was happening.

Sihtric held the cab door open for you and, once the door fell shut, he pulled you over to his side in the backseat, so he could still keep you close. The drive to his place was a quiet one, and only when he searched for his keys at the door did you look around the neighbourhood with your reddened and puffy eyes. You frowned as if confused, which Sihtric caught, and he asked what was troubling you.

'Where the hell are we?' you asked, taking another glance at the massive and luxurious houses across the street.

'My house?' Sihtric said, as if unsure himself.

'You live here?'

'You sound like you don't believe I do.'

'Well, I mean,' you stammered, then looked at his own villa, 'this… this is quite the neighbourhood. I didn't know you lived here? Do you really live here?'

'I do,' Sihtric chuckled and opened his front door, then mumbled, 'there's a lot you didn't know about me.'

Once in the hallway you both took off your coat and shoes, and you couldn't help spotting a pair of black Oxford shoes in his little shoe cabinet.

'Fancy shoes,' you remarked.

'Comes with a fancy suit.'

'I didn't take you for a fancy suit guy.'

'That's because I ain't,' Sihtric said, 'but I have to wear it for work every now and then.'

'Ah,' you smiled and nodded. You suddenly realised you had no idea what Sihtric did for a living. And it was as if he could read your mind, because he told you about his job as he led you into his spacious living room.

'Interior design,' he said, 'I started my own business a few years ago, and I've been lucky to be one of the successful ones.'

'Seriously?' you asked, impressed and rather amazed.

Sihtric nodded, 'Really. I've worked hard to get my name out there, and it paid off.'

'That's amazing,' you smiled, 'I'm happy for you. You're right that I don't know much about you, but I do know your life wasn't easy when you were young. So to see you managed to make something of your life… that's amazing.'

'Thank you,' Sihtric said rather shyly.

'You've been building the most amazing life for yourself,' you said with a light scoff, 'while I was busy ruining mine.'

'Don't think like that,' Sihtric said. He took your hand and you sat down with him on his sofa. 'How much do you owe your landlord?' he asked.

'Sihtric,' you sighed, 'it doesn't matter.'

'How much?'

'Look, I'm a few months behind on rent-'

'How much?'

'It's… it's a few thousand,' you said softly, 'I'll figure it out.'

'How much?' Sihtric asked again, and he stared right into your eyes when you looked up at him, 'tell me how much.'

'About four thousand,' you almost whispered, ashamed.

'Okay,' he said calmly and sat back, 'we'll fix it.'

'How?'

'Tomorrow,' Sihtric said and looked at you again, 'I want you to call or text your landlord, and you will tell him that you will pay the amount you still owe him.'

'Sihtric, no-'

'And,' he cut you off, 'you will tell him that you will also pay six months of rent in advance, but only if he gives you the new keys to your place.'

'I can't let you do that.'

'You can't stop me either,' he said and took your hand in his, 'we will fix this. And you can stay here as long as you need to, until you get the keys to your place again. You can argue all you want, but this is how it's going to be. And you don't have to pay me back, you won't owe me and I will never use this against you either, whatever happens between us from here on.'

You wanted to argue, but you knew Sihtric wouldn't let you win this, so all you did was agree and hug him tightly as you thanked him.

'I don't deserve you,' you sniffled and leaned back to look at him.

'You're right,' Sihtric whispered and smiled faintly, 'because you deserve everything good in this world, and I'm not that.'

'But you are,' you whispered, 'you have always been a good person.'

'But I've been stupid too.'

'As if I haven't been stupid?' you chuckled softly, 'I'm sorry for trying to hurt you all these years. I should've just talked to you, but I was scared.'

'I'm sorry too,' he said and took your chin gently, 'I should've done things way differently too. I was never aware how I've hurt you. But I do know I made a mistake not chasing after you when we were young, and I regret that. I've always regretted that.'

'I just want to move on from this.'

'So do I.'

You looked at each other and both smiled rather shyly, then went in for another tight hug, agreeing it was time to move forward now. Sihtric then suggested getting some sleep, as it had been an exhausting few hours and it was almost two in the morning already.

'You can get your own room,' he said as you followed him up the stairs, 'but I'll be honest, I'd much rather have you share my room with me. But only if you're comfortable with that.'

You looked around his large but cosy bedroom and then scratched your head for a second as you stared at his massive bed.

'You want me to share the bed with you? The same bed which you have shared with so many others before?'

'What?' Sihtric frowned, 'no! Actually… I never took any girl home. You're the first girl to ever set foot in here.'

'What?'

Sihtric shrugged, 'They had no reason to be here. I didn't want them here, in my house.'

'And you want me here?'

'I do. I've always wanted you here. You're the only one I ever wanted to sleep next to.'

'And yet you slept next to many-'

'I haven't,' Sihtric calmly interrupted, 'I never stayed the night. I always left their place as soon as it was done. I don't sleep next to just anyone, but I'd like to sleep next to you.'

You felt flattered as he gazed at you, and for a moment you felt like that teenage girl again who had blushed and giggled each time Sihtric had looked at you during class.

'Fine,' you mumbled and feigned as if your decision had no impact on you, 'I'll sleep next to you.'

Sihtric smiled and closed the bedroom door. He showed you his en suite bathroom, where you fixed yourself up a little before you got dressed in one of his clean shirts, which was comfortably oversized on you. You got cosy in his bed while Sihtric used the bathroom, and you almost choked on your own saliva when you watched him come out, wearing nothing but his tight fitting black boxers. He wasn't aware of your wide eyed stare while he walked over to the bed, as the room was dimly lit with only the lights on both nightstands switched on, so he got under the covers without realising you were a nervous and shy mess.

You laid next to each other in silence for a moment after the lights were switched off, and Sihtric was the first to get over his own shyness when he cautiously moved closer towards you. He wasn't sure if you were okay with it, so he didn't go all in at first but, when he realised you weren't going to elbow him in the ribs, he snuck an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

'You mind?' his voice sounded warm and soft in your ear.

'No,' you smiled in the dark.

'Good,' Sihtric said with a soft hum, and he snuggled up a little closer.

You cuddled like that for a good time. No talking, just laying there in the comfortable dark of the night as you felt each other's body warmth while listening to the sound of your breaths as they slowly became in sync. The weight of his arm rested comfortably on your side, and you couldn't help closing your eyes to the feeling of his warm breath touching your neck. You mindlessly pressed your backside even closer up against his body, and your heart skipped a few beats when you heard his light chuckle in your ear, followed by a low hum. 

You both were already dozing off when he made you melt entirely in his arms, when he slowly nuzzled your neck, before planting his lips on your skin several times as he held you. You heard and felt his breathing became deeper and faster the more he kissed your neck, because in response you pushed yourself entirely up against him, feeling his arousal grow and twitch as you slowly and somewhat sleepily wiggled your ass against his crotch.

'Don't taunt me,' Sihtric mumbled sleepily as his hand moved up the side of your thigh, 'you have no idea how much I've wanted you all these years. And you have no idea how much I want you right now.'

He snuck his hand under your shirt and rested on your hip, lightly squeezing it as you murmured in return how needy you had been for him, and still were. You then turned to face him, and you finally crashed into a deep and passionate kiss while taking off the few clothes you each had on. Sihtric then flipped you over with ease, and he moved to lay on top of you, between your thighs.

'Promise me I'll be the only one from now on,' you whispered against his lips, with one hand in his curls and the other slowly working his hardened length under the sheets.

'I promise,' Sihtric said and sighed deeply, almost desperately, as a moan got caught in his throat, 'you're the only one,' he rested his forehead against yours as you continued to please him so painstakingly slowly, 'you'll always be my only one. I have always only thought of you, I have always only loved you. And I will always only love you, if you will let me.'

His last words were almost a beg, and you gave in with no hesitation, as you knew he had always been the only one for you as well, and he would always be your only one too. And with that knowledge and those honest confessions from you both, you finally made love until early in the morning. And you fell asleep in his arms, both bare, and you only woke up late on that sunday afternoon. And you then called your landlord to get rid of your debt.

'But instead of asking for the keys,' Sihtric had said before you made the call with him by your side, 'maybe you can tell your landlord that you just want to stop by and pack up your stuff, because you found a home somewhere else?'

'That home being here, with you?' you asked, shyly.

'Yeah. I would like that, but only if you would too.'

'I would,' you smiled.

'Well,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your forehead, 'then welcome home, darling.'

@mrsarnasdelicious @neonhairspray @sihtricsafin @errruvande @penumbrie @lexeirikrleif @diiickbrainn @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @bubblyabs @dixie-elocin @alexagirlie @stupiddarkkside @urmomsgirlfriend1 @gemini-mama @foxyanon @man-i-be-that-pretty-motherfuckr @thenameswinter99 @m-a-s-h-k-a @superblyzanynight @hernakedmuse @ewanmitchellfanatic @lady-targaryens-world @cosmosnkaz @stronger-than-steel

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Arnas Fedaravičius & Lububu

Tags:

@thenameswinter99 @chubbgal @cheesesandwichsanto @leftoverp1zza @rick133

@alexagirlie @viridian-dagger @jasminecosmic99 @grlwtskulltattoo @gemini-mama

@justcuriousandbored @oddsnendsfanfics @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

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Jensen Ackles, Jessica Camacho, Uli Latukefu, Elliot Knight, Violett Beane, Jonathan Togo, speak onstage during the "Countdown" Premiere and After-Party on June 18, 2025 in Los Angeles, California.

Jensen Ackles, Uli Latukefu, Elliot Knight, Eric Dane, Violett Beane and Jessica Camacho attend the "Countdown" Premiere and After-Party on June 18, 2025 in Los Angeles, California. 

Derek Haas, Jensen Ackles and Craig Mazin attend the "Countdown" Premiere and After-Party on June 18, 2025 in Los Angeles, California.

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he has dark circles from losing his sleep for 2 days trying to find stiles.. find you a man who does it like derek hale

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Rufus Sewell’s Photos of Heath Ledger in “A Knight’s Tale” (x)

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THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE (2013) — dr. Francis Lawrence

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Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your key fob into the bowl where his are already resting, the key to his Bronco was on the same keychain with the little fighter jet charm that you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had given him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees.

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with you dad that sunny day at the golf course.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange��@oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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