#he couldn't be there anymore he had to leave

[marzipanandminutiae]

Sophia, the Boston woman from 1875 who haunts a lamp I got at Brimfield: what is a stay at home girlfriend, if you please?

me: well, it's a woman who's financially supported by the man she's dating, and she lives with him and usually keeps house and cooks for him

her: and they're not married?

me: well, no; hence "girlfriend" rather than "wife." I know that may alarm y-

her: oh calm down I know about Kept Women. he has no legal tie to her, though? she has no sort of standing with him in the eyes of the law? only his word that he'll follow through?

me: yes

her: and remind me again- you don't have to be financially dependent on a man anymore, right? there are more than like three careers open to women that will let you support yourself at a decent level now? and society isn't pressuring you 24/7 to get married and stop working outside the home?

me: yes

her: so these women. CHOOSE to be dependent on a man. who could leave them at any moment without legal consequence. because they don't like their jobs. the jobs, while imperfect, that let them live on their own, answerable to no-one

me: yes

her: that had better be some absolutely amazing jewelry they can pawn off if he leaves them, then

me: it's usually not

her: THERE'S NOT EVEN SECURITY JEWELRY?!

me: oh by the way they blame feminism for "having to work"

her:

her: I became fully dependent on my in-laws who hated me, after my husband died two years into our marriage, because I was a 23-year-old orphan with no marketable skills in any avenue besides Running A Household and the only men left unmarried in my social circle were widowers thirty years my senior. I also couldn't establish lines of credit as a widow because the merchants said my husband dying so soon meant that I didn't have stable enough income. and that was entirely legal

me: yeah

her: I'm going to go slam some doors please do not bother me

[loveandleases]

Confessing to you late at night when they think you're asleep

Now this HAS to be Cam 😚

You know it! I was going to make it clumsy, but I guess Cam wanted to go for the heartstrings today. (Below the cut~)

If it were anyone else, Cam would have complained about sharing such a small bed. But it wasn't. It was you. It had always been you.

You were pressed close against him, the little makeshift wall of pillows he'd carefully built between you long gone. He wasn't surprised - he might've been the culprit.

"I'm cold," he murmured, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close. It wasn't entirely a lie, though your body heat chased away the night's chill. The small apartment never had good heating, and you'd ended up in his bed more often than on the couch these days. Not that either of you minded.

You felt the brush of warm breath against your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. One of his legs shifted, slipping between yours, his foot hooking around yours as if it belonged there.

"Red…" he whispered, his hand hesitating before tapping your stomach. He sighed, and before you could turn to look at him he buried his face into the curve of your neck. Your pulse quickened at the closeness, the intimacy.

Then, barely audible, his voice wavered. "I don't know how much longer I can keep it from you," Warm tears slipped onto your skin as his body trembled against you. "I love you. I have for… for what feels like forever. Please, just…" He shook his head, his breath hitching as if the weight of his words threatened to crush him.

"Don't hate me. Because I can't fucking hold it in anymore. I feel like it's killing me. I loved you before Chris ever did. I loved you first. So much it hurts."

He took a shuddering breath, his voice barely holding together. "One day, I promise. I promise I'll tell you when you're awake. Just wait for me. Please, wait for me."

His lips pressed softly to your cheek before he started to pull his hand away.

But you couldn't let him.

The sound that escaped him was almost a sob when you grabbed his hand, keeping it firmly in place. "Red?" Fear laces his voice, thick and raw, and when you turned in his arms, his expression shattered what was left of your composure. His cheeks glistened with tears, his face a perfect portrait of anguish.

He tried to pull away, but your palm found his cheek, brushing away the wetness. His breathing slowed as your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

"I'm tired of waiting, Cam."

Whatever reply he had was swallowed by your lips, soft but insistent. Reassuring. You'd imagined this moment - what his lips would feel like, taste like. The hunger behind his kiss. But not this. Not the way his breath hitched, his hand trembling as he gripped yours. You never imagined he would feel like he might break apart in your arms.

"Say it again," you urged, your voice steady, grounding him.

"I love you," he breathed, the words no longer shaky. His kiss, no longer uncertain.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Heavy

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-Shot

Summary: After surviving a brutal attack that left you in a coma, you awaken to find the love of your life, Tara Carpenter, has vanished from your side despite the endless nights she spent holding your hand through the worst of it.

Warning(s): Trauma, no pronouns, references to past (Scream 6) violence, mental struggles, survivor's guilt, stalking, emotional manipulation (self-imposed), and PTSD.

Notes: I was listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers while writing this.

You never looked more beautiful than when you were dying.

That thought haunts Tara as she lies in her empty bed, tracing patterns on sheets that still smell faintly of your perfume. Three months since she last held your hand in that sterile hospital room. Three months of pretending she made the right choice.

The machines kept time with your heartbeat, a rhythm she memorized during those endless nights at your bedside. Sometimes, she still hears it in her dreams - that steady beeping that meant you were still fighting, still here, still hers. Until she decided you couldn't be hers anymore.

Sam stopped by earlier, concern etched in the corners of her eyes. "You're punishing yourself," she'd said, leaving a container of soup that now sits untouched on Tara's nightstand. Maybe she is. But isn't that better than the alternative? Better than waiting for the next masked figure to emerge from the shadows, seeking to add your name to the growing list of people she's lost?

Your coma lasted six weeks. Six weeks of Tara reading to you, singing softly when the nurses weren't around, telling you all the things she should have said before. How you made her feel safe in a world that had given her every reason not to be. How your laugh could chase away the darkness that sometimes threatened to swallow her whole. How you never treated her like she was broken, even when she felt held together by nothing but stubborn will and surgical tape.

She remembers the first time you kissed her, after that night at the bowling alley. You'd been so careful with her, like you understood without being told that touch wasn't always easy for her anymore. Your hands had framed her face like she was something precious, something worth protecting. If only you'd protected yourself from her instead.

The phone on her nightstand lights up with another missed call from Chad. He's been trying to get her to come out, insisting that isolation isn't the answer. But how can she explain that every time she closes her eyes, she sees you in that hospital bed? The bandages, the bruises, the way your chest rose and fell with mechanical precision because you couldn't breathe on your own. All because someone had wanted to hurt her, and you'd been brave enough - stupid enough - to step between her and the blade.

"I can't lose you," she had whispered to your unconscious form. "I won't survive it."

But when you finally opened your eyes, weak and confused but alive, Tara realized something worse than losing you to death: losing you by choice, pushing you away to keep you safe from the curse that seems to follow her like a shadow.

The breakup was clean, surgical - like so many of the scars that map her body. She'd practiced the words in front of her bathroom mirror until they stopped making her cry. "I can't do this anymore. I need space. I need to focus on healing." All the clichés that meant nothing and everything at once. You'd looked at her with those eyes that always saw too much, and for a moment, she thought you might fight her on it. Almost hoped you would.

But you didn't. You just nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead that felt like goodbye, and walked away. Maybe you understood. Maybe you were tired of loving someone who carried death in her wake like a bitter perfume.

Tara rolls onto her side, pulling your old high school sweatshirt tighter around herself. It stopped smelling like you weeks ago, but she wears it anyway, a form of self-torture she can't seem to give up. On her desk, photographs mock her with frozen moments of happiness - you and her at the beach, your hair wild with salt air and sunshine. The two of you at the twins' birthday party, your arm around her waist as she actually smiled for the camera. A quiet morning in your apartment, where you'd captured her making coffee in one of your oversized t-shirts, looking at peace in a way she rarely felt anymore.

Her friends tell her she's different now. Quieter. The spark that had started to return during your time together has dimmed again. Even Mindy, who never comments on anything serious, asked if she was okay the other day. Tara had wanted to laugh. Okay? How could she be when you're forced to bear wounds that were meant for her? When she spends her nights parked across from your apartment, engine off, watching the soft glow of your bedroom light like a moth drawn to flame?

She tells herself it's protection, not obsession. That someone needs to make sure you're safe, even if you don't know they're there. But the truth sits heavy in her chest as she watches your silhouette move behind curtains - the way you still favor your left side, a reminder of wounds that were meant for her. Sometimes, she catches glimpses of you leaving for work, and the sight of you walking alone makes her hands shake against the steering wheel. You look smaller somehow, or maybe that's just the distance she's forced between you.

Last week, you almost saw her. You were collecting mail from your box, and something made you turn, scanning the street with that sixth sense you always seemed to have. Tara had ducked down so fast she'd knocked her head against the dashboard, heart thundering so loud she was sure you'd hear it even from across the street. When she finally dared to look again, you were gone, but she could have sworn there were tears on your cheeks.

She knows it's wrong. Knows that if Sam or Chad found out about these nightly vigils, they'd tell her she's sliding back into old patterns, letting trauma dictate her choices. But how can she explain that sleeping is impossible unless she knows you're safe? That every time she closes her eyes without checking on you, her nightmares paint your death in vivid technicolor?

It's only a matter of time before you two cross paths again. It happens at the corner market three blocks from your old shared apartment. The same place where you used to buy cookie dough ice cream at midnight, where Tara would pretend to complain about enabling your sweet tooth while secretly loving how your kisses tasted afterward. She's reaching for coffee - your brand, though she'll never admit it - when she hears the soft intake of breath behind her.

Time stretches like taffy, sticky and overwhelming. Your reflection in the freezer glass is both familiar and foreign - thinner maybe, or just holding yourself differently. The scar above your collarbone peeks out from your shirt collar, a silvery reminder of everything she's tried to forget.

"Tara."

Her name in your mouth still sounds like coming home. She forces herself to turn, to face the reality of you standing three feet away with a basket of groceries hanging from your arm. The fluorescent lights cast shadows under your eyes that weren't there before, and she wonders if you're sleeping any better than she is.

"You look..." The words tangle in her throat. Alive. Beautiful. Like everything I've been running from. "...good."

Your laugh is hollow, nothing like the sound she keeps locked away in her memory. "Liar." You shift your weight, and she catches the slight wince - another reminder of what loving her cost you. "You've lost weight."

"Haven't been hungry much." The confession slips out before she can stop it.

Something flashes across your face - concern, maybe anger. You take a step forward, and she matches it with a step back, her spine hitting the cold glass of the freezer door. The coffee can in her hands shakes slightly.

"Don't," she whispers, but she's not sure if she's talking to you or herself.

"Don't what, Tara? Don't care? Don't worry? Because I tried that. It doesn't work." Your voice cracks on the last word, and she watches you swallow hard. "I see your car, you know. Outside my apartment."

The confession lands like a physical blow. Heat crawls up her neck as shame mingles with something else - relief, maybe, that you still know her well enough to notice. That some part of you is still watching for her too.

"I just..." She closes her eyes, unable to bear the weight of your gaze. "I need to know you're safe."

"Safe?" Now there's definitely anger in your voice. "You want me safe? Then stop making decisions for both of us. Stop deciding what I can and can't handle. Stop-" Your voice breaks, and when she opens her eyes, there are tears tracking down your cheeks. "Stop acting like your love is a death sentence."

The coffee can clatters to the floor, forgotten. Her hands ache to reach for you, to wipe away those tears she caused. But she forces them to stay at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms.

"You almost died," she says, the words tasting like copper in her mouth. "Because of me. Because I thought I could have this - have you - without danger following. I was wrong."

"No." You step closer, and this time she can't make herself move away. "I almost died because some psychopath decided to come after us with a knife. Not because of you. Never because of you."

Your hand reaches out, hovering just shy of touching her face. She can feel the heat of it, the promise of contact that makes her chest tight with wanting. The market's muzak plays faintly in the background, some old love song that feels like mockery.

"I miss you," you whisper, and it's the gentlest violence she's ever experienced. "I miss you, and I'm not sleeping, and sometimes I think I see you everywhere, only to turn around and find empty space. And then I realized I wasn't imagining it - you were actually there, watching over me like some heartbroken guardian angel."

A sob builds in her throat. "I don't know how to stop loving you."

"Then don't." Your hand finally makes contact, cupping her cheek, and Tara breaks. "Don't stop. Just... come home."

She leans into your touch for one heartbeat, two, allowing herself to remember what it feels like to be held by hands that know all her scars. Then she steps back, away from your warmth, your forgiveness, your love that feels too much like salvation.

"I can't." The words taste like ash. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She runs. Past the dropped coffee, past the concerned clerk, past everything but the sound of you calling her name. It follows her all the way home, where she collapses against her front door and finally lets herself cry for everything she keeps choosing to lose.

The worst part is knowing that if she could do it all over again - live another life, make different choices - she'd still choose you. Still fall for the way you dance off-beat to every song, still melt at how you bring her coffee just the way she likes it, still love you with every broken piece of herself. She'd just do a better job of staying away before you could love her back.

Night settles around her like a familiar weight. In the darkness, she can almost pretend you're still here, that this is just another evening where you'll wrap your arms around her and keep the nightmares at bay. But the bed stays empty, and the shadows stay thick, and somewhere across town, you're probably sleeping peacefully for the first time since you met her.

"I love you," she whispers to the empty room, words she never said enough when she had the chance. "I love you, and that's why I can't keep you."

The silence offers no comfort, no contradiction. Just the steady tick of her bedside clock, counting down the moments until another day without you begins. Another day of being strong enough to keep her distance, of choosing your safety over her happiness. Another day of remembering that sometimes love means knowing when to let go, even when every cell in your body screams to hold on tighter.

Sleep will come eventually, bringing dreams of your smile, your touch, the way you used to look at her like she hung the stars. And tomorrow, she'll wake up and do it all again - loving you from afar, keeping you safe the only way she knows how. Because that's what love is to Tara Carpenter now: not a fairy tale, not a happy ending, but a sacrifice she makes every day to keep you breathing.

Even if it means she can barely breathe herself.

-----------

A/N: the meaning behind The Maria's "Heavy" inspired this.

[zarla-s]

I know you’ve long since finished handplates and by extension any AU with it, but can I get anymore info on how the story with Papyrus leaving the ruins and all would have gone? Deeply invested here.

Honestly I never continued it because I couldn't figure out where to go with it lol. Basically Toriel and Sans were going to find out Papyrus was gone, go and find Gaster and Papyrus, Toriel would be upset and then... ???? After that point I really had no idea what to do, haha. Mostly I liked the image of Toriel kicking open the door and Papyrus like YAY :D while Gaster is like DDD:

The other option was Sans and Papyrus being permanently (?) separated after that point since Papyrus can't go back in and the two having to talk through the door to the Ruins and it's sad, although I really don't think Sans would stay with Toriel over going with his brother, especially if he's scared Gaster will hurt him. I guess Toriel could keep him there by force? I don't think she would though. I don't know, that was also a pretty fuzzy idea. I just thought the image of the two of them being separated forever by something so innocent was quietly tragic and Flowey would probably enjoy them being miserable. I never did decide what to do! Maybe someday...

[landonorrisscar]

Confessions ~ Harry Lewis

summary: A video of you and Harry at Vikk’s wedding went viral and the rest of the boys are questioning you guys about it.

word count: 1k +

this is my first fic, so please be nice! 😊🫶

You and harry were sat across from each other getting questioned by the other sidemen about the rumors going around about you two fancying each other.

This came after a video of drunk harry and you dancing at vikks wedding went viral on TikTok.

The sidemen had decided to make a video about the rumours and to find out more about what had exactly happened, the infamous night 2 months ago. You and Harry hadn’t properly seen you since as you have been avoiding him trying to hide your feelings.

“Honestly guys, it's not that deep.” you thought trying to get this over and done with as soon as possible seen as though you don’t exactly want your personal life to be exposed on the internet.

JJ chuckled as he looked at the others who were trying to control their grins, he looked back at you, still amused as he questioned you, "not that deep, huh? The entire internet went crazy when that video came out".

Simon nodded in agreement while tobi, vikk and josh tried to control their laughter.

“Yeah so? It's the internet they don't know anything” you explain as there insistent questions were starting to annoy you, along with Harry’s silence.

Ethan looked confused, "but you were drunk and dancing with Harry all night and Faith swore that you too snuck off early". As he finished his sentence, Simon started laughing as tobi and josh snickered and vikk shook his head.

“Harry always gets like that when he's drunk”, thinking back to the countless times Harry held your hand when drunk and completely forgot by the morning, always leaving you with a twang of disappointment.

At that simon started laughing more, "so does he call you baby whilst drunk too? How about kissing you?".

With a shocked expression on your face you shyly say “he was just being friendly” not realising that they had seen that. You remember the day after when Harry apologised and said that it didn’t mean anything.

You had learnt not to get too hopeful when things like that happened. After the a thousandth time Harry explained to you that you guys were just friends and that he never meant to kiss you. You have had a crush on Harry for years and after countless hints he’s never made a move whilst sober.

JJ couldn't hold his laughter anymore and started cackling, "being friendly, i didn't think friends hold hands, hug and kiss eachother".

Vikk nodded as an agreement but he too was smiling and tobi started laughing quietly.

“Well you and Simon do it all the time” you replied sarcastically waiting to see the look on his face.

JJ's smile faltered as he glared at you, "we do it for the jokes, you two were looking at each other lovingly”.

“Harry, you wanna back me up on this or what?” you try to bring him into the conversation as he was just sitting there silently with a guilty look on his face.

JJ rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone, before putting on the video of you and harry. It showed a drunk harry twirling you around, kissing your cheek and laughing together

Harry was silent as he looked at the video, he remembered what he had done at vikk's wedding and blushed as he remembered how you felt in his arms

JJ smiled at the silent glances you guys shared with each other, "so just friends do all this stuff?" Harry stayed silent, trying his best to keep his cool but it was obvious he had feelings for you by the blush on his face.

Fed up, you explain “Well Harry hasn't told me how he feels so how should I know” , god this video wasn’t going anywhere if you had a say in it. You don’t want to make a fool out of yourself even more than you already have.

Josh shook his head, "how come neither of you admit your feelings for eachother? This has happened countless times and you guys have never done anything about it". You froze at this question as your heart started beating faster, knowing that you could admit your feelings and hopefully change the ordinary outcome for once.

“Harry??” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, not wanting to be the first person to say anything.

Harry froze as he heard josh's question, a little embarrassed as he looked and you and began to say "what if you don't feel the same? Or what if you don't see me in the same light?”

You silently nod at him which lets him know that you feel the same, wishing him to continue.

Harry looked at you and spoke, "Y/ N, i have liked you since the first time we met, please tell me you like me too” he exclaimed with a wishful look on his face.

“Harry, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that!” you excitedly say, going over to him to hug him. As he heard this, he grinned and blushed shyly at you, when he saw you stand up to go over to him he opens his arms welcoming you into his space.

The rest of the sidemen smiled at a shy Harry. JJ spoke excitedly, "finally! There is no drama anymore! We have proof of yous likin each other back" he says as the rest of the sidemen smile at each other and cheer.

You had forgot that they were there for a moment as you got lost in Harry’s warm embrace. As you pull apart, you quietly whisper up to him “what happens now?”.

Harry looked down at you smiling before he spoke softly, "im gonna kiss you, like i should have done years ago"

Harry slowly moved closer to you, a small smile forming as a hand reached out to cup your cheek. Your stomach filled up with butterflies as he gazed into your eyes before he gently pressed his lips to yours.

Your body tenses up in shock as his lips finally meet yours. His touch is soft and gentle, as though he is afraid that you might break, your lips move against his. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

You can feel his heart beating fast against yours as the two of you continue exchanging passionate kisses, deepening them with every moment that passes.

JJ explains to the camera, “and that ladies and gentlemen is how you make your two friends stop being idiots around each other.”

Harry and you just laugh at each other, at this statement. You then turn to the sidemen and say “thank you boys” smiling at them with a grateful look in your eyes.

instagram

yourusername posted

yourusername: happier than ever, can’t wait to have forever with you by my side 🤍

tagged: wroetoshaw

Comments:

user1: OMG ITS HAPPENING!

sidemen: watch the video of how we got these two together!

-> user2: you have it in VIDEO?

ynandharry4ever: my two favourite people finally together!

-> yourusername: thank you for the support!

-> ynandharry4ever: OMG YOU NOTICED ME!

wroetoshaw: the love of my life

-> yourusername: I love you baby 🤍

ksi: I made this happen!

-> tobjizzle: ^^

-> miniminter: ^^

-> zerkaa: ^^

-> behzingagram: ^^

-> vikkstagram: it was my wedding so you’re all welcome! liked by yourusername and wroetoshaw

-> wroetoshaw: I think we actually made this happen you know seen as though it’s our relationship @ yourusername

-> yourusername: no they made it happen, like when were you gonna make a move if not for them 😂

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

WAITING AIN’T EASY

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after 6 gruelling months of long distance with drew, y/n decides to surprise him on set. listen to ‘waiting ain’t easy’ — Evan Honer!!

based on this ask !! i really hope you enjoy my lovely :) amazing ask as always !! i made a little twist on it though, and added some angsty goodness to make it more emotional <3

WARNINGS: angst to fluff, fighting, crying, mentions of breaking up, long distance relationship, like one (?) curse word, brief mention of cheating rumours (made by the media) and i think that’s it? (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared out at the crashing waves outside her beachfront rental in Australia, the sun dipping low in a painted sky of reds and golds. Normally, she would've snapped a picture to send Drew, knowing how much he loved sunsets. But tonight, her phone sat abandoned on the kitchen counter, vibrating occasionally with notifications she couldn't bring herself to check.

It had been nearly six months since she'd left for Australia to film her new movie, a dream opportunity that she'd accepted with boundless enthusiasm. Drew had been so supportive at first, kissing her forehead and promising her they'd figure it out. "Eight months will fly by," he'd said. "We'll make it work." And for a while, they had.

The first few months had been manageable—late-night FaceTime calls, text messages scattered throughout the day, photos exchanged to make each other smile. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain started to show. The time difference, their conflicting schedules, and the exhaustion from their respective work had turned their once-effortless connection into something fragmented and brittle.

And then there were the rumors.

The first article had popped up about a month ago, with pictures of Y/N and her co-star, Paul Mescal, leaving a restaurant. They'd been with a group of castmates, but the tabloids didn't care about context. The angle made it look intimate, as if the two of them had been alone. Headlines screamed: "New Flame on Set?" and "Trouble in Paradise for Drew Starkey and Y/N?"

Drew hadn't believed the rumors—not really. He knew how tabloids worked. But the seed of doubt had been planted. Their conversations became laced with tension. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out?" Drew had asked one night, his voice tight.

"I didn't think I had to give you a play-by-play of my day," she'd snapped, the exhaustion from a grueling shoot making her sharper than she intended.

"I'm not asking for a play-by-play, Y/N. I just want to know what's going on in your life. Is that too much to ask?"

The fight spiraled from there, unresolved, and left a bitter taste that lingered.

Tonight, their most recent argument had pushed them to a breaking point.

She answered the phone after his third call, her voice strained. "Hey."

"Hey," Drew replied, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the silence that followed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier," she began, trying to preempt his frustration. "I got caught up on set, and—"

"Y/N, you always get caught up on set," Drew interrupted, his tone clipped. "I'm starting to feel like I'm not a priority anymore."

Her heart sank. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it? Because it feels like I'm the only one trying here."

"Trying?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Drew, do you know how hard this has been for me too? I miss you every single day, but I can't just drop everything to cater to your insecurities."

"Insecurities?" he echoed, incredulous. "You're calling me insecure because I want to spend more than five minutes talking to my girlfriend? Because I'm tired of feeling like I'm the last thing on your mind?"

"Don't do this," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Don't twist this into something it's not."

"Then tell me what it is, Y/N," he shot back. "Because right now, it feels like we're falling apart."

Her throat tightened. "Maybe we are," she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Drew exhaled shakily on the other end of the line. "Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "This... this isn't what I thought it would be. I didn't think it would hurt this much."

"You think I don't hurt too?" His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "You think I don't lie awake every night wishing you were here? That I don't feel like I'm losing my mind wondering if this is worth it anymore?"

Her chest tightened painfully, but she couldn't find the words to soothe him. To soothe herself. The weight of their love—their pain—pressed down on her like a crushing wave.

"I can't do this right now," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Drew said bitterly, "of course you can't."

And then the line went dead.

Y/N stared at the screen, her hand trembling as the call ended. She wanted to call him back, to take it all back, but the words hung in the air between them, too heavy to ignore.

Halfway across the world in Charleston, Drew sat in his apartment, his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at the empty screen, the echo of their fight replaying in his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the loneliness suffocating.

They were both alone, yet they'd never felt further apart.

—

Drew sat on set, legs stretched out as he leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. The day had been slow, and while he loved working on Outer Banks, his mind wasn't fully there. It hadn't been for weeks. The weight of his argument with Y/N lingered, the harsh words and silence that followed gnawing at him.

He sighed, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nearby table. The OBX cast was scattered around the set, some chatting, others grabbing snacks. Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia were huddled together near the craft services table, giggling about something. Their sudden burst of laughter caught Drew's attention.

"What's so funny?" he called out, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" Madison replied quickly, a little too quickly. She nudged Carlacia, who bit her lip to stifle another laugh.

Suspicious, Drew tilted his head but didn't press further. He wasn't in the mood for their antics today. As much as he loved his friends, all he really wanted was Y/N. Six months apart felt like an eternity, and knowing they still had two more months to go made the ache in his chest worse.

What he didn't know was that Y/N was only minutes away.

Y/N stepped off the plane, her heart pounding as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She had managed to keep the wrap of her film a secret from Drew, wanting to surprise him in the best way possible. It hadn't been easy; she'd had to bite her tongue during their rare phone calls and carefully avoid social media posts that might tip him off.

Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia had been the first people she told about her plan, and they had been more than happy to help. When she landed, they were waiting for her, practically vibrating with excitement.

"You ready to blow his mind?" Madelyn asked, grinning as she pulled Y/N into a hug.

"I've never been more ready," Y/N said, her nerves and excitement warring within her.

Carlacia held up her phone, ready to document everything. "Okay, we've got this all planned. He's sitting in the main lounge area. You just walk in, and we'll follow behind you."

Y/N nodded, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."

Back on set, Drew was oblivious. The girls had disappeared somewhere, but he didn't think much of it. They were always running off to do their own thing. He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face as exhaustion crept in.

The sound of footsteps approaching barely registered until he heard a familiar voice, soft and hesitant.

"Hey, Starkey."

Drew's head whipped around so fast that his chair tipped backward, clattering to the floor. He stumbled to his feet, his heart racing as his eyes locked on her.

"Y/N?" His voice cracked, disbelief written all over his face.

Before she could say another word, Drew launched himself toward her, nearly tripping over his fallen chair in his haste. He reached her in seconds, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he lifted her off the ground.

"Y/N," he choked out, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her shoulder.

She clung to him just as tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Hi, baby," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Drew pulled back just enough to look at her, his face streaked with tears. "You're here? How are you here? I thought—"

"My shoot wrapped early," she interrupted, laughing through her tears. "I wanted to surprise you."

Drew didn't hesitate. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss so full of love and longing that it made Y/N's knees weak. Around them, the cast erupted in exaggerated groans and laughter.

"Get a room!" Rudy teased, shielding his eyes dramatically.

"Y'all are gonna make me cry," Carlacia joked, still filming the entire moment.

When Drew finally pulled away, his forehead rested against Y/N's, his tears falling freely now. "God, I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you too," Y/N said, her hands cupping his face as she brushed away his tears. "I'm so sorry, Drew. For everything. For the fight, for the silence. I hated it. I hated being apart from you."

"Me too," Drew admitted, his voice cracking again. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared I was losing you."

"Never," she said firmly. "I was scared too, but I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

Drew let out a shaky laugh, his arms tightening around her as if he were afraid she might disappear. "Waiting ain't easy," he said softly, his eyes searching hers, "but it's worth it for you. Always."

Y/N felt fresh tears well up as she kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love and reassurance she had into it. When they finally broke apart, the cast was clapping and cheering, much to Drew's embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, show's over," Drew said, his cheeks flushed as he waved them off. But he couldn't stop smiling, and his hand never left Y/N's.

Carlacia walked up, showing them the video she had taken. "You two are gonna want this later. It's a tearjerker."

Drew chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. "Thanks, Laci."

As the cast gave them some space, Drew turned to Y/N, his eyes still glistening. "You're really here," he said again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"I'm here," she confirmed, her smile soft. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Drew's expression softened, his love for her radiating in his gaze. "Good. Because I don't ever want to do this without you again."

They spent the rest of the day glued to each other, catching up, apologising, and soaking in every second of finally being together again.

For the first time in six months, everything felt right.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such an adorable one to write :’) i love writing hurt/comfort, it’s just my absolute fave genre of ff !! i really hope you enjoy this @xoxosblogsblog <3

[secret-moonstruck]

PLEASE COMEBACK TO ME | K.SN

— Pairing: sunoo x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/n and Sunoo broke up because of his jealousy. But even though Y/N ​​was angry, she ended up surrendering to him.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, overstimulation.

It had been almost a month since Y/N and Sunoo broke up, all because of a stupid fight after he got jealous and ended up offending her, about how she couldn't be so stupid as to not notice that Jungwon, her ex, still liked her.

Y/N was still angry with Sunoo, so she was furious when she saw him arriving at the party he was going to have for the residents of the building and Y/N was one of those responsible for organizing the event, he knew that so he didn't miss the chance to go, he needed to apologize, but she was avoiding him.

During most of the event she managed to avoid him despite him continuing to follow her, but when one of her neighbors stopped her with the excuse of talking about her twin children that Y/N always stopped to play with, Sunoo was unable to keep her distance. he pulled her in the middle of the conversation.

- What the fuck do you think you're doing? - She screamed at him when he dragged her to a room where there were some things that would be given at the end of the party.

- You've got to be kidding me. Don't you know the nonsense he said about you out there? I don't want you anywhere near this guy again, who knows what he might do.

- What, what does it matter to you? We're done, in case you forgot. You have nothing to do with who I talk to. And he was just talking about the babies, you're so paranoid.

- The babies? Okay, you seem to really like babies. - He said sarcastically.

Y/N opened the door to leave, but he slammed the door shut again, before hugging her from behind.

- Wait…Y/N forgive me. Not just for now, but for that day too. I shouldn't have offended you like that, please forgive me.

As he spoke he kissed her neck, she tried to let go, but he continued, and she wasn't really trying, he knew very well how to provoke her, how to manipulate her, she was already melting in his arms.

When he didn't receive a response, he turned her around and kissed her, she responded and then he intensified the kiss as he guided her to the back of the room, pushing her on the table, knocking everything that was on top of her.

He moved away to take off his shirt while she did the same. Y/N pulled Sunoo back by his belt to finish taking off his clothes, who soon did the same to her. He kissed her again while her hands went straight to his penis, spreading the precum that already covered the tip, he moaned into the kiss, how he missed her.

A shiver ran throughout Y/N's body when she felt his beautiful fingers against her wetness. He broke the kiss smiling at her.

- You missed me too, there's no denying it, look how you're already dripping for me. - Sunoo said before licking his fingers. - How I missed that.

Sunoo couldn't take it anymore, he lined himself up rubbing the tip against her entrance, she twitched in anticipation when she felt it rub against her clit.

- Go soon Sunoo. - Y/N was clinging to him with her face in the crook of his neck.

- So hurried, always so desperate. - When he said that he penetrated her at once, hitting her deep.

Y/N's nails were digging into his shoulders as she felt him give strong deep thrusts, he was punishing her for depriving him of fucking her in the last few weeks.

As he quickened his pace he made Y/N straighten up, holding her face he wanted to see her expression of pleasure, he missed seeing how fragile she was when he was inside her. Taking his other hand to massage her clit making it squeeze around it before cumming, he groaning seeing her beautiful face full of tears as he continued pounding her sensitive insides, he wanted so badly to cum inside her soon but he tried to prolong it as long as he could to continue seeing her expression of despair being overstimulated. When he finally came she clenched around him it felt like he would never stop filling her with his sperm, she ended up having another orgasm as he continued his movements, he smiled before finally stopping his movements. A victorious smile that irritated her. She knew that expression, he did that when he planned something, but she didn't understand what.

While getting dressed, Y/N cursed him, but she also cursed herself, not believing that she had given in so easily.

- Don't think I've completely forgiven you, let's talk later, I need to take care of the event.

Y/N was setting up the toast table when she saw Jungwon talking to someone, she approached to say hello, after all even if it was her ex they still maintained a certain friendship.

- She's a manipulative bitch, she's cruel, no one could stand dating her. - Jungwon said to his friend.

She thought he was talking about her so she gave him a dirty look as soon as he saw her. But to her surprise he smiled when he saw her and approached her.

- Y/N, it's good to see you. - Jungwon said excitedly.

- I heard what you were saying, I hope it wasn't from me. - She scolded him.

- Of course not, you are perfect; A crazy girl has been following me. That's who I was talking about.

While they were talking, Y/N saw Sunoo staring at them, he looked upset and angry, after all Jungwon was the reason they broke up.

Soon she was called by another resident saying that they needed her, so she said goodbye to Jungwon.

Y/N would have to present a new space that they would open in the building for pregnant women and newborns.

When she finished explaining about the place and everything that would be available there, she saw Sunoo smiling at her, but ignored it. While checking if everything was ok at the tables she felt arms around her waist, it was Sunoo hugging her.

- This new space is great for future moms. If it's up to me you'll enjoy it soon, if everything went well I've already left a gift in you. 

Y/N turned around immediately, when she saw that smile on his face again she understood exactly what he meant, and the meaning of that smile earlier.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories

[amoristt]

pretty little thing

「 ✦ hwang in-ho / reader ✦ 」

tags: nsfw MDNI // exhibitionism, edging, unedited pls forgive me a/n: when it is going to be my turn original request (x)

it's hard to breathe. it's hard to even think to breathe anymore, your lungs betraying your bodies innate need to inhale. nerves alight from underneath your skin in tingling and prickly flashes. you're trying to hold back the sultry noises mounting in your chest, you really are, but In-ho's got you essentially powerless to stop them. you even try to close your legs, to jump from his touch, but he's got you held fast and in your place. no where to go except closer and closer to the inevitable.

when you'd joined him in his suite and settled on his lap, it really wasn't for anything other than innocently lounging with your lover. it was his fault, really, that you ended up sprawled over him with your legs dangling over the arm of the armchair and his hand buried between your legs while the other propped you up at the shoulders.

his suit is silky smooth against your naked skin. almost as smooth as his voice as he spoke with a square guard merely feet away from you.

you had entirely expected In-ho to stop when the man had walked in but he didn't. he didn't really react at all, in all honestly. other than actually speeding up the tight circles he was rubbing into your clit, like he wanted you louder, wanted you wetter. wanted you some squirming pretty thing in his lap.

there was no denying the way it worked, too. riveting waves of shame and lust engulfed you, dragged you below the murky waters of sex. you refused to look at the anonymous man, burying your face in In-ho's shoulder to try and at least pretend like this wasn't doing something for you.

but really, it's like the day fighting the night. inescapable. all consuming. you can't stop the way you're soaking his thigh through the fabrics of his pants, nor can you stop the way you try to urge your hips into his touch when he presses just a little harder, a little deeper into you. more than once now you'd been right at the precipice, ready to tumble down into ecstasy, only to suddenly find yourself without as he drew his fingers away.

the first time it had been for shits and giggles. the second time, it was because he loved the way you pleaded with your eyes.

the third was when the guard had knocked at his door and was welcomed in.

you know he's trying to see how far you'd go in front of the man before you. he's driving you crazy, seeing how long it takes to have you stupid and downright dizzy with need. you're almost there, too, starting to allow your outer leg to slide off the arm rest despite the guards presence. it's getting harder to care with every second- but you still do. only enough, though, to keep you hiding your face into In-ho's suit and squirming in his hold.

In-ho's voice is low, steady. the guard matches his tone almost evenly but you can hear it- the way his words take a moment to leave him, his brain struggling to fully process their conversation with the lewd display in front of him.

you twist your fingers in his coat, whining only loud enough for In-ho to hear. "please."

he doesn't even acknowledge you. just continued his conversation with his underling as if this were a casual meeting. you weren't tuned into their chatter, you honestly couldn't give less of a shit, too focused on trying to finally cum. you rock your hips, just barely inching into the feeling, but the movement makes your leg slide off the armrest and suddenly you're completely exposed to the pair of eyes on you. you yip, throwing your leg back and pressing your knees together.

In-ho sighs, pausing his conversation. his arm holding you up shifts, and for a blinding second, you're afraid he's going to stop again and you'd have to resort to begging and pleading like a whore in front of a total stranger. but instead he just knocks your leg back off the arm rest and grants himself more access to your body. bursts of pleasure spark behind your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers, down to the knuckles and curling against your gummy walls. your voice leaves you in pathetic keens. but even with pleasure riveting through you like static electricity, when you can see the guard in the corner of your eye, you're trying to hide in In-ho all over again.

that actually earns you a reaction. he chuckles low and deep in his throat.

"so shy. she's not usually like this." he murmurs in amusement, and you realize that he's not talking to you in shameful terror. your face flames with a fire so hot it could burn.

with one leg hiked up on the arm rest, your other dangling over his lap and your toes barely grazing the cold floor, you can't even try to close your legs. good lord, if you thought your face was hot enough to burn before, this could scorch. you can literally feel the guards eyes on you, swallowing you whole.

you whine again, a high noise lost in the back of your throat as you struggle to have even an ounce of decency. makes you try to throw your leg back up, but In-ho shoves your thigh to stop you.

when you try to cover yourself again, there's a fleeting moment where you actually think you may have annoyed him because suddenly you're being lifted and spun around. he presses your back to his chest with a oof and hooks your legs under the bend of his arm, hikes your knees up, folds you on his lap with your swollen pussy on full display.

the cold air meets your sex and you can't help but cover your own face with your hands when the guard noticeably bristles at the sight before him. his spine straightens, his shoulders square. his hands twitch at his sides.

"that's better." In-ho, resting back in his chair now that he's got you trapped in place, snakes his other arm around you and rubs languid strokes up and down your slit. your head tips back against his chest, your breath escaping you in shaky moans. every time his runs his fingers over your clit you whimper, trying to rock your hips into his touch but finding yourself successfully stuck in place.

their all-business conversation picks back up.

a particularly dirty thought jumps to the forefront of your mind- a seedy little wish that grew limbs like trees throughout your body and only heightened your arousal. the mental image of In-ho fucking you like this, slow and deep, taking what's his.

but then you remember that there's a total stranger standing right there watching you mewl and agonize on his bosses lap. and fuck, even despite the shame, even despite the humiliation of it all, you're dripping down his knuckles. you try to urge him for more, desperate to be filled but he's got a grip so iron that all you can do is uselessly kick your feet and plead.

you're almost there, close enough that you can feel it in your fingers and toes. that simmering pleasure making writhe in his grasp. your thighs are starting to shake, eyes unfocused as you stared at the ceiling overhead. just a little more...

"that's all. you may go."

that beautiful mounting pleasure is gone. His hand motions to the door, allowing the guard to see himself out after their talk. if you could kick him in the head, you would. you wanted to strangle him for letting you get that close again without delivery. you kicked your feet again in protest, tossing your head back and huffing.

the guard nods. you watch him through your fingers and god, you're fucking disappointed that he's leaving. but then In-ho is touching you again and nothing seems to matter anymore. the planets realign, the stars collide. his sinks two fingers into your puffy slit and rests his thumb on your clit, resuming his rhythm of rubbing circles into you. you gasp, you moan, arching against him and curling your toes.

"please, please don't stop." you whimper, eyes half lidded, your chest rising and falling in rapid pants. he slides in a third finger and the stretch is just too good.

with the guard gone, you stop trying to hold back all your lovely little sounds. he hooks his fingers and presses right up against your sweet spot, and you can't help but squeal, grasp onto his biceps as your walls flutter around his fingers. you jump in his arms, gasping, struggling to cope with how good it feels.

you're so lost in the feeling that you barely register when In-ho starts talking again.

"what is it." it's supposed to be a question, but he says it like a demand. you lift your head off his shoulder, eyes cracking open in a haze of lust.

the guard is still there. they'd not made it past the first few steps, lingering. watching. their chest moving in shallow breaths. they seem to struggle to speak, as if snapped from a trance. finally, they manage to answer.

"i am sorry if this is out of line, but... may i watch her until..."

a bold request. the end of his sentence trails off, mesmerized.

In-ho just laughs, presses his lips to your temple and you can feel his smirk. "sounds like they want to watch you cum."

you shudder at the lowness of his tone- fuck, you're so close. you're right there, so much so that you really can't bring yourself to even care that you're being watched anymore. you grip tight to In-ho's arm for purchase with one hand, the other reaching up to tangle itself in his hair with shaking fingers.

"well?" In-ho asks with a honey-sweet tone, dragging his fingers to the edge of your pussy before shoving back in, watching you wiggle and twitch with want.

"yes!" you whimper. anything to cum. anything. "yes, yes, mnn- please, i'm so close-"

"poor thing," In-ho leans back in his seat and you fall into him even further, expose yourself even more. "i suppose i have kept you waiting."

you nod fervently, frantically.

yes, you have, you fucker.

the guard stands ever present and silent, but their hands are making tight fists at their sides. you're affecting them- you can sense it. it spurs you on, makes you decide to let it all go. if they wanted a show, so be it. you toss your head back into In-ho's shoulder once more and sing for them. your pussy is swallowing whatever it can get, greedy and desperate for more.

you legs start to shake again, your orgasm teetering already.

"go ahead. show them how good you feel."

this time, In-ho lets you have it.

and even though you felt it coming, felt the heat of it spreading and coiling within you, it still hits you hard and sudden. hits you with a force so strong it knocks the air from your lungs and you're sent reeling against him, arching your back, toes curling and uncurling as you cried out thank you, thank you, thank you.

if your legs weren't already pressed flush together, you'd have snapped them shut as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. in between your wailing moans and the lewd wetness of your sex soaking his hands, it's a song In-ho's come to love. come to crave.

something he was clearly happy to show off, his little pet so needy and receptive to him.

"that's it. there you go." he purrs in your ear, though it barely reaches you through your swimming ears. you're sure you've soaked his entire lap by now, still riding out the last winds of your orgasm. "such a pretty little thing for me."

he strokes through it you until you're shying away, oversensitive and in need of reprieve. you're still babbling thank you's when he addresses the guard once more.

"satisfied?" In-ho jeers, only prying his eyes off you to look up at his underling for a dismissive moment.

"yes." the guard nods quickly, their voice strained. "thank you, sir."

they scurry out of the room like a roach, but not before lingering on you for a long moment. they take a begrudged step back before turning away entirely, seemingly having to force themselves out of the room, disappearing behind the door before it clicks shut. you melt against In-ho, panting, damn near put to sleep. he pats your thighs and lets you crumble against him, unhooking his arm from your legs. you sprawl over him like an old blanket, used up and spent.

"sorry to have kept you waiting for so long." he breathes, kissing the top of your head. you shrug, breathless.

"s' okay. felt good."

he chuckles again, petting a hand down your hair, over your shoulder, down your side.

"always so patient."

you giggle. "i really wasn't."

"patient enough." he kisses the top of your head again and hums. from the table beside the chair, he plucks a glass half full with dark alcohol and brings it to his lips. the sharp smell of it makes you scrunch your nose as he takes a drink.

you know any moment now you'll be carted off to your bedroom and laid out on the plush mattress, surrounded by only the most exquisite fabrics and pillows, but for now you just enjoy the way he's got his arms wrapped around you.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

❛ BEGGIN’ ❜

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…chris loves to make you beg. asshole.

cw: SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), begging, freaky, dumbification, creampie

based on this from like 17 years ago LMAO

you couldn't help but feel a familiar tingle between your thighs as chris’ voice filled the room, his words dripping with that familiar mix of dominance and playful teasing. it was a game you both loved to play—well, chris more than you—but sometimes, his stubbornness could be frustratingly arousing.

“come on, angel," he said, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "you know the rules. y’want something, you gotta ask for it."

you pouted, knowing exactly what he was referring to. the bulge in his pants was evident, and you craved every inch of him.

but chris—that mean motherfucker—had a thing for making you beg, and today, he seemed to be in a particularly teasing mood. every time he acted like this, it was like he was just sucking the dignity out of you.

“please, chris," you whined, batting your eyelashes at him. "you know i want it. why do you have to be so mean?"

he chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. chris loved to see you squirm, and your feisty attitude only fueled his desire to tease.

“mean? me? oh, i’m just making sure you learn some manners, pretty. you can't always get what you want by pouting." that’s…such bullshit! chris was, in fact, mean.

frustration and desire battled within you. you wanted to straddle him and take what was rightfully yours, but something about his dominant demeanor always made you hesitate.

chris had a way of making you submit, and you secretly loved the power he held over your body.

"fine," you huffed, crossing your arms. “i want you. happy now?"

chris’ eyes darkened at your bold words, but he maintained his playful facade. "that’s a good start, but i think you can do better. i wanna hear you beg, baby. you know how much i love it.”

unfortunately, you did know how much he loved it. and it drove you absolutely fucking insane.

you felt your cheeks flush, both from anger and arousal. chris was pushing your buttons, and you were determined to show him you could play this game too.

“i—fuck—i need you, chris," you stammered, feeling a little embarrassed but also excited by the vulnerability in your voice. "please, don't tease me anymore. i’m so wet for you." you’d finally given in and dropped any ounce of dignity you ever had to the bottom of the atlantic ocean.

he took a step closer, his tall frame towering over you. "wet, hm? well, that's a start. but i want to hear you say it like you mean it. tell me how bad you want my dick."

is he fucking serious? this man must be insane.

your heart raced as you actually processed his words. chris was demanding, but you craved his touch. you wanted him to know that you were desperate for his hard length inside you.

"...i want your dick, chris," you whispered. “really want it…”

a satisfied smirk played on his lips, and you knew you had finally hit the right note. chris loved to hear you surrender to your desires.

“that’s my good girl," he purred, reaching out to stroke your cheek gently. "but i think we should take this slow. i want to savor every moment."

fuck.

as he spoke, his fingers trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you shivered, craving his touch everywhere.

"please, chris," you begged, your voice breaking. “i can’t take it anymore—i need you now."

he chuckled low, his breath hot against you. "impatient, aren't we? but i think i’ll make you wait a little longer. you want something, you use your words, pretty. or maybe i’ll just stop right here and leave you hanging. you wouldn't want that, would you?”

your breath caught in your throat. the thought of him stopping now, after teasing you to the brink of madness, was almost unbearable. you needed release, and chris unfortunately held the key.

“no, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with need. "i’ll do anything. just don't stop. i need you, chris. please fuck me." wow! where the hell did that come from! guess you just really have your sights set…

his eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a step back, enjoying the power he held over you. "on your knees, baby, cmon. show me how much you want it."

complying without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, your eyes never leaving his. his strained against his pants, and you couldn't wait to set it free.

“that’s it," he encouraged, his voice husky. "now, tell me again how much you want this." you reached for his belt, your fingers trembling.

“i-i want your cock, chris. so bad—please, i—“

with a swift motion, he unbuckled his belt, and you eagerly pulled down his zipper. his thick, hard length sprang free, and you couldn't resist leaning in to lick his tip.

“oh, fuck," he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair. "that’s it, baby. take what you want, go ahead..shit..”

you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. chris hissed, his grip tightening in your hair as you took him deeper, savoring the taste of him.

“fuck, yes," he growled, his hips thrusting gently. "suck it, pretty—c’mon.”

you moaned around his length, the vibrations driving him wild. chris was already close, and you wanted to taste his release, but of course he had other plans.

“enough, baby," he said, pulling you away gently. "i want to feel your pretty pussy—i’ve teased you enough, haven't i?"

oh, he definitely has!

you whimpered, craving his touch between your legs. "yes, please. i need you inside me…”

chris smirked, his eyes full of promise. "oh, i’ll give it to you, baby. but first, i want to hear you beg for it one more time."

seriously.

as he spoke, he trailed his fingers along your inner thighs, making you squirm with anticipation. you were putty in his hands, and the both of you knew it.

“please, chris," you begged, your voice hoarse. "fill me up—i can't take it anymore."

he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "that’s what i like to hear, baby. now, let's see if you can take all of me."

with that, he positioned himself at your entrance, teasingly rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, making you gasp and arch your back.

"please, chris—" you cried out, desperate for him to fill the void he had created. and just as you thought he would deny you again, he thrust forward, stuffing you full in one smooth motion. you cried out, your body adjusting to his size as he stretched you deliciously.

"fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm.

he pulled out almost entirely, leaving you gasping, before slamming back into you, hitting all the right spots. you clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to pull him closer.

but chris was relentless, his thrusts calculated to drive you wild. he knew exactly how to make you beg, and he wasn't going to let up anytime soon.

“mmph—chris—i—y’so big…so full—mmh!” you pathetically stammered out. chris chuckled darkly. “yeah, baby? fillin’ you up so well, hm? fuck—take this shit so well..•

as he continued to fuck into you, your body trembled on the edge of release, craving the climax he was withholding. you were putty in his hands, and you knew that this time, chris was going to make you work for it.

“pl-please, chris," you whimpered, your voice raw from pleading. "i-i can't! i need to cum—please—“

he smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "not yet, baby. i want to hear you beg some more. tell me how much you need it."

you were beyond words, your body trembling with need. you could hardly think—your mind was foggy, barely any thoughts flowing through. chris was fucking you absolutely stupid. he had pushed you to the brink, and you were desperate for release.

"...i need—ngh—it, chris," you managed to gasp. “fuck—please—so close."

with a growl, he complied, his thrusts becoming more urgent, slamming into you with abandon. you cried out, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"that’s it, baby," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. "cum for me. let me feel it, cmon.”

and as if his words were the final push you needed, you shattered around him, your orgasm ripping through your body as you cried out his name. “fuckkk, that’s my girl.” chris followed soon after, his release hot and intense as he filled you with his essence.

sure, chris was mean, especially with all this shit he pulled.

but, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

a/n: HI so this kinda sucked but i needed to write one of my annual singular smuts in between all of the fluff and angst ive been doing LMFAO hope you liked it anyway

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Worst's Chapter 394

Brief summary: Cale talks to GoD. Cale receives his rewards for completing the subquest. Cale feels ominous at what Clopeh had done.

==========

I couldn't help but laugh at and feel sorry for GoD at the same time. 😂😂😂

Cale: Are you busy? GoD: Very busy. Cale: How's the GoC these days? GoD: …What did you do? Cale: Haven't you heard from CJS? GoD: They don't tell me anything anymore. Shameless bastards. Don't they even know that they're living so freely because of me? Cale: Okay, I'll send those two to Earth 3 while we're in the game. Also, I'll briefly explained what happened, so listen carefully. GoD: Oh yes! I'm looking forward to it! Cale: Ha. It's not something that will have a big impact on your side of the god realm. But I thought it would be good for you to know. It's nothing much, but just know. Cale: *tells the chaos he did* Alberu and Rosalyn: (Nothing much?) *looks in disbelief* Cale: …And that's what happened. GoD's mirror: *vibrates intensely* GoD: T-T-This crazy bastard! Y-You are really the best! Hahahahaha! I was a genius for choosing you! Hahahahaha! Cale: Are you crazy? *contemplates on breaking the mirror* GoD: Ahem. Cale: Anyway, since I've set up the board, the gods should fight each other according to that. GoD: Ah. Even without that, there's currently a standoff without any progress. There are gods who are increasingly siding with GoC. Because of that, GoB is going crazy and running wild. Also, there is also talk of her stepping down from the position of representative because GoB is not doing her job properly. In addition, since the title of ancient god is not very useful, there's talk of creating a system by appointing new leader-level gods other than the ancient gods throughout the god realm. Btw, I'm one of them- Cale: Stop. The affairs of the god realm are none of my business. I only care about the hunters and the absolute gods. The rest is up to you, the god and demon realms. GoD: You really think so? Cale: What? GoD: Heh. Cale: *feels annoyed and turns off the screen* GoD: Sorry, I won't tease you! Tell me more!

GoD seems to know that every time Cale denies involvement with the gods, he continues to set up flags in becoming involved with them. 😂😂😂

That lore drop about ancient gods though. I thought "ancient god" was just some adjective to call the old gods, but it was actually a title and had some significance. The appointment of new leader-level gods was also a surprise, and the fact that our GoD was included as a candidate... 🤣🤣🤣

After a few months, CJS and Sui were mentioned again. Cale planned to leave the Earth 3 matters to them while he plays the game. And King Zed was mentioned too!

Apparently, when a person was nearing their death, their name would appear on GoD's Death List six months before their death. Included were also details related to their death, such as the time and location of death.

However, Zed's place of death kept changing, so GoD couldn't tell much to Cale. There was also restrictions around it, so GoD said he would have to prepare for it before he could tell Cale the info.

Moving on, Cale got to talk to the System AI upon completing the subquest. He achieved his quest so splendidly that the system rated it as SSS+. He got a potion that he needed to pour on Count Lupe's forehead to restore Lupe's memories.

The System AI was so happy that Cale hit the Transparent Bloods, the Demon Realm, and the God of Chaos all at the same time. So the extra reward Cale got for achieving SSS+ in his quest was just too OP!

Red Hand (Rank: God) -When using the skill, you can make a "judgement" through a "trial with the System" and activate "Red Hand" when you are "permitted". -If you understand that the absolute god of the New World already exists, it will be easier to receive "permission" in the "judgement".

Red Hand was the game's response to game errors, and if you recall, it once tried to kill Cale when he first entered the game. But now, Cale had it as a skill? Since the "absolute god" of New World was the System AI, and it was that very System AI who gave the Red Hand skill to Cale, it meant that Cale could freely get "permission" in using the skill. Cale is becoming god-like even inside the game! 😂😂😂

As Cale smiled, another quest window popped into view. And he froze. [Recovery Rate 99.31% (Time remaining: 23:19)] [Nativity Progress 159%] [Reward Tier Undetermined] “Huh?” Why is the nativity progress over 100%? How is that possible? “Damn.” Clopeh Sekka, what the hell did you do? Cale's heart raced. It was the moment he realized something was coming that he couldn't handle.

It's here! Cale's reaction to Clopeh Sekka's actions! 🤣🤣🤣 Yeah, what the heck did Clopeh do that the birth/nativity progress surpassed 100%? 😂😂😂

Ending Remarks So much happened today. Next chapter would be our poor Cale learning what Clopeh had done (and learning about Sheritt's "betrayal"). 😂 We would probably hear about what happened to Count Lupe too once he wakes up. So Eden's birth should be next week?

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 23/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Guys, I finally wrote a new part. It's been so long since I published the last part. I was promoted at work, so I work very hard and write at night. This part is big. Please let me know what you think about this part. By the way, the final part of the story will start from this part ❤️‍🔥💜💘

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 23. The point of no return.

The rays of the morning sun were breaking through the heavy curtains, filling the room with soft warmth. You slowly opened your eyes, feeling a pleasant fatigue in every muscle.

Your eyes immediately fell on Jungkook, who was lying next to you. He was sleeping on his stomach, his face turned toward you, his hands under his pillow. His black hair was falling over his face, his naked back rising and falling in the rhythm of his breathing. He looked so relaxed, as if all the problems of the world had left him alone, at least for that night.

You smile involuntarily, admiring your lover. You notice his pouty lips and immediately have the urge to kiss them. But you restrain yourself.

You lie there and think that you finally feel good and you don’t feel the anxiety that has been present in you every day for the past five weeks. Jungkook is here and you're not going to leave him anymore.

You run your hand down your neck, feeling the warm memories of the night there. Your lips curved slightly into a smile, unable to hold back the quiet tremor in your chest.

You propped your head up with your hand, looking at him carefully. His body looked strong and yet tender in its vulnerability. You couldn't help but want to touch him. Your fingers almost automatically reached for Jungkook's hair, and as soon as they touched his strands, Jungkook moved, half-opening his eye lazily.

"Are you spying on me?" - He murmured, looking at you with one eye open, his voice hoarse and low from sleep.

"You're so cute when you sleep." - You replied, smiling. Jungkook opened his other eye and squinted as if trying to judge your tone, and a sly glint appeared in his eyes.

"Cute?" - He rolled onto his back, stretching his muscles that seemed to reveal his full strength. "I don't remember you calling me cute when you were screaming my name this night." - You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks turned treacherously pink.

"Someone's being overconfident here." - You said, throwing a pillow in his direction, but Jungkook easily intercepted it.

"Not that it's not true." - He replied, smiling slyly, and then he crept closer. His arm went around your waist and he pulled you close.

"Get over yourself, Jeon. I only accept your self-confidence because I've known you for so long." - You say, fighting the sensations of his kisses on your neck. "By the way, what are you doing?" - Jungkook kissed your neck slowly, he towered over you taking you captive with his body and arms that trapped you.

"What do you think I'm doing?" - Jungkook smiled slyly. Without waiting for your answer, he went back to kissing your neck. Just a few kisses, and you already seem to be wet and feel a pleasant throbbing in the upper part of your thighs.

"Are you serious?" - You said in a trembling voice. "We just woke up. We need to get cleaned up..." - You said. You haven't even gone to the bathroom or brushed your teeth.

"Baby, you look so delicious... how can I refuse myself to fuck you when I open my eyes?" - Jungkook whispered in your ear when he finished biting your lobe, his voice low and full of play.

"Jungkook! How can you say that? It's morning!" - You protested. Having sex right after waking up? Is he that insatiable?

"What? Is this a bad time?" - His fingers began to slide down your thighs, and his lips left a warm kiss on your temple.

"Jungkook! I didn't brush my teeth." - You said, a little embarrassed, and tried to pull away, but his hands held you steady, though gently.

"I don't care." - He said, and you felt his hand near the elastic of your pajama shorts.

"It's not hygienic." - You don't give up. But his hand has already slipped under your shorts and underwear. Jungkook's fingers touched your pussy, which was wet and ready to receive him right now. You bit your lip, closing your eyes at how pleasantly Jungkook was caressing your clit. He pulled his lips apart in a smile. You heard him sigh and knew it was a cocky smile.

"Who's so wet?" - He says quietly. You moan as his finger plunges into your passage and slowly fucks you.

"Kook..." - You breathe out. The Jungkook sucks on the skin of your neck. Shit, I think there are going to be marks. You should push him away, but the deeper he plunges his finger into you, the faster you forget what you were thinking.

"Mmm." - He purrs against the skin of your neck. His purr is vibrating in bass. "Do you want me to stop?" - He asks as he continues to fuck your aisle. He adds a second finger to create more pressure. But it's not enough for you. You move your hips to meet his fingers. Jungkook lifts the top of your pajamas to kiss your breasts. He sees your erect nipples and gets harder, even though he already woke up with a hard-on.

You don't even pay attention to his question because your mind is elsewhere. You get even more excited when Jungkook's tongue is on your nipples. He sucks on your bud, causing a pleasant pain. He bites down lightly on your sensitive skin and you hiss.

He smiles against your skin.

"I asked you something!" - Says Jungkook, turning to face you. You open your eyes and have a hard time remembering what he asked you. His finger is back on your clit.

"What?" - You squeaked out. "What did you ask?" - You asked again.

"Do you want me to stop?" - Jungkook repeats. You raise your eyebrows, moaning and feeling how soon you might come on his finger.

"You can only stop if you want to." - You said. Jungkook smiled, you're so provocative.

"Do you think I can do it?" - Jungkook asked, pushing his hard cock into you. You smile defiantly, he started it, why ask stupid questions?

"It's up to you." - You said. Jungkook suddenly took his finger away and when you realized it, you were shocked. Your eyes rounded and you did not take them away from him. Jungkook didn't take his eyes off you either. He threw back the blanket that covered you both and got out of bed. He left the room and you sat down, feeling disappointed and confused.

You straightened your clothes and put your feet down on the floor to follow Jungkook and ask him what happened. But before you could get out of bed, he came back into the room. Your eyes immediately fell on his crotch with a big hard-on. In just a second, you turned your gaze to his face, he was serious, and he was carrying something in his hands.

"Where are you going?" - He asked, standing in front of you. His crotch was almost in front of your face.

"I..." - You looked up at him in confusion, tilting your head back. "Why did you leave?" - You ask. Jungkook hands you some menthol-flavored lollipops and you look at them in confusion.

"I went to get lollipops." - He replies.

"Why did you bring them?" - You ask, unhappy. Jungkook leans in and you can smell the menthol as he speaks next to your face. He seems to have already tasted one.

"I want a menthol-flavored blowjob." - His smile is cheeky and demanding. You are frozen, not knowing how to respond. "So, are you going to give your boyfriend a good time?" - Jungkook asks you again, grabbing your chin with two fingers. You roll your eyes and he laughs out loud.

"Are you silly? Don’t said anything... Gone..." - You protest. Jungkook lets go of you, takes out a lollipop and shoves it into your mouth, dipping his fingers in with it. You taste the menthol and his fingers on your tongue. You look up at his figure towering over you. His eyes darken as you begin to suck on his fingers, which he uses to press down on your soft tongue.

"You'd better use your tongue for its intended purpose." - He says. Your lips stretch into a seductive smile. You released Jungkook's fingers from your mouth and reached for his boxers. You grabbed the elastic and pulled them down. They fell to his ankles, freeing Jungkook's cock.

Your mouth instantly filled with saliva. His cock was right in front of your eyes, thick, erect, and begging for affection. You took it in your hands and rolled it a couple of times to see the head. You stretched the skin and saw the purple tip of his cock, which was dripping with pre-cum.

You touched the tip with your tongue, wrapped around it, and felt Jungkook's cock twitch. Jungkook likes it. You looked up to see his face. You met his gaze, full of desire. He smiled at you from the corner of his mouth. You put the head of his penis in your mouth and sucked on it as if to create foreplay.

Jungkook put his hand on the back of your head, coming closer.

"Come on, baby, stop playing around. Just choke on my cock." - He says with authority, and you can't help but feel aroused by his low, commanding voice. You grab Jungkook's ass with one hand and pull him closer. You spread your legs wide to give him easy access to your mouth.

You swallow Jungkook's length, halfway down at first. Your jaw is open wide. You can feel his velvety skin on your tongue, and the taste of salty cum mixed with menthol lollipop. You suck Jungkook's cock like that for a while. Until you notice him twisting your hair around his fist and pushing your head to take him deeper.

You try to breathe deeply as his cock sinks deeper into your mouth. His head delivers the end of his tongue and your breathing speeds up. You fight the gag reflex.

"Breathe deeply. I'm going to be careful. If you feel like you can't take it, tap my thigh." - Jungkook says. You look at him and nod slightly in the affirmative. You put both hands on his hips, giving him full control. He uses your hair as a tool of control lever.

Your mouth is filled with his cock and he starts fucking it. At first it's slow, careful movements. You even move your head yourself, but with each successive stroke, Jungkook gets faster. He squeezes your hair harder and helps you suck his cock.

You can hear him moaning, not hiding his pleasure which your welcoming mouth gives him. You dig your nails into his skin and he likes the way you desperately suck his length, letting him fuck your throat.

Jungkook is so deep in your mouth that his pubic bone is just a few centimeters from your nose. You can feel your jaw getting tired and starting to ache from being open for so long. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

"It feels so good to fuck your throat. Do you like me fucking you in the mouth my little slut?" - Jungkook asks you and you leak onto your underwear. Your arousal increases to the maximum. You moan around his cock, closing your eyes. It's been a while since he last called you a whore. Why do you like it so much when he calls you that?

Jungkook picks up the pace. You can feel his hardening at your mouth. It doesn't take long for him to come in your mouth. His cum leaks out through the corners of your mouth. He twitches inside, and you greedily swallow everything Jungkook pours down your throat. He moans heavily and stops after a few more thrusts.

The pressure of his hand eases on your hair, and a moment later he pulls his softened cock out of you. You wipe your mouth with your finger, dipping your fingers into your mouth to make sure you don't miss a drop. Jungkook laughs with satisfaction and breathes heavily. His abs are clearly visible when he holds his breath to catch his breath.

"That was so good, baby." - Jungkook compliments you. He pulls to kiss you.

His tongue can enter your mouth without any obstacles. He can taste the menthol and his cum on your tongue. Jungkook kisses you greedily, his fingers clenching your jaw. When you both need air, he pulls away, but bites your lower lip one last time.

"I'm glad you liked it." - You say. Jungkook lifts you up, grabbing your hand. He dips his hand into your shorts and squeezes your buttocks, pulling you close.

"You have to have fun too. So choose either my cock or my tongue." - He offers you. It's hard to make a choice, you like his oral sex skills, but it's even harder to give up his cock. Jungkook kisses you while you make your decision, leaving you without clothes on. When you feel the air enveloping your skin, you pull away from Jungkook's mouth.

"Please fuck me, my love." - You ask, emphasizing the last word. You remember how much Jungkook liked it when you called him that. He breaks into a smile, leading you to the bed.

He lays you down on it, making you comfortable on the pillows. The sight of your exposed cunt and spread legs inviting him to fuck you instantly excites him so that he is hard again.

He makes himself comfortable between your legs, pressing his cock against your entrance. He touches your clit with his fingers, rubbing it to increase your desire. You sigh heavily as he presses with his cock and starts to plunge into you.

The pressure on the walls is pleasant and not painful at all. Jungkook takes his hand off your clit and pulls up the top of your pajamas to see your breasts. He plunges into you all the way and turns to adjust to your body.

He leans down to your chest and kisses the other breast that was neglected today. He swirls his tongue around, pressing pleasantly on your nipple. He continues kissing your breast, squeezing the flesh with his hand and start to move. The friction immediately gives you bliss. His cock inside you is always feeling like euphoria.

You feel slightly dizzy as he intense his movements and deepens his thrusts. He leans against your body as much as possible, so that he can go deeper into you, reaching the edges of your uterus.

You wrap your arms around his neck, scratching his skin a little as he finds the spot that gives you the most pleasure. Jungkook kisses you hard, sometimes biting your plump lips.

"Is that good?" - He wheezes as he drives his cock into you.

"Divine." - You breathe out. Your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are drawn together. You feel so good. Your orgasm builds with every thrust of Jungkook's hips. He hits your G-spot. But you need to warn Jungkook that you're not on the pill. He mustn't cum inside you again.

"Kook..." - You call out to him. You open your eyes and see beads of sweat covering his face.

"Are you coming soon, love?" - He asks. You are definitely on the verge of orgasm. The friction of his cock against your walls drives you into a frenzy.

"Yes, but..." - You don't get a chance to speak because Jungkook increases his pace just enough to bring you to a wave of bliss. Your walls clench around his cock and you come with a long moan. It doesn't take long for Jungkook to reach his high either. In a moment, he comes in your vagina.

Jungkook stops when he stops jerking inside you completely. You lick your dry lips and open your eyes, but you have to close them almost immediately because Jungkook is kissing you.

Jungkook kisses you with such tenderness that your heart momentarily forgets about your anxiety. His breathing is still heavy, his warm breath enveloping your face. He pulls away from your lips and touches your forehead, looking directly into your eyes.

"You're just incredible." - He whispers softly, smoothing your hair with his palm. But instead of feeling calm, you realize that the words you were trying to say earlier have remained unspoken.

"Kook..." - You begin, gently touching his shoulder. He looks up, slightly surprised by the change in your tone. "I... I don't take birth control pills. I haven't taken them since we broke up." - His eyes widen, and you can read a slight concern in them. He leans closer, his face taking on a serious expression.

"Are you... serious? Why did you stop drinking them? You should have kept going." - Jungkook says. You just nod silently, feeling a sea of emotions stirring inside you.

"I tried to tell you, but you..." - You smile slightly.

"Well, it doesn't mean you'll get pregnant right away. You must go pee. Later we'll go to the pharmacy to get some medicine." - Jungkook reassures you. You nod in agreement.

"Okay. But maybe you shouldn't come inside me so often. Maybe we should use condoms sometimes?" - You suggest. Jungkook is still inside you. You move your legs so they stop shaking. Jungkook leans over and speaks with authority, unhappy with your suggestion.

"I don't want to wear a condom because I want to feel you. It's your fault for letting me do it so early." - His voice is soft but firm. You roll your eyes a little, trying not to give in to the emotions he's stirring up.

"Hey, I let you because I wanted to feel you too. But I didn't think you'd come inside me all the time. Any contraception does not guarantee a hundred percent result. It's risky. We can't always do this. But if you're so persistent, then you have to be prepared for the consequences." - You say. Jungkook looks at you, and his lips stretch into a slight, almost cocky smile.

"I am ready for any consequences that include you. But I'm not ready to give up feeling you for who you are." - He says and finally pulls out of you. Jungkook lies down next to you, pulling you into his arms and covers you both with a blanket.

Your cheeks start to burn, but you pretend to stay calm.

"You sound like you want me to get pregnant with you." - You assume, lifting your head to see his face. His smile grows wider, and he leans in slightly to kiss you on the lips.

"You think? If it's baby from you, I don't mind." - Jungkook says.

"Jungkook, don't talk like that! We're not ready for that kind of thing yet." - You gasp and jokingly hit him on the shoulder.

"Who says I'm not ready?" - His tone is gentler, but you can sense that there's more to his words. You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a slight smile.

"I don't think we're in the right place to have kids." - You say carefully. "Let's hurry to the pharmacy and get some breakfast. I'm so hungry." - You suggest, sitting down. Jungkook hums and tilts his head slightly as he watches you fix your hair and reach for the blanket to cover yourself. His gaze slides down your body, and he smiles, barely able to contain his pleasure.

"You're hungry, you say? I thought you got everything you wanted." - He jokes, referring to your recent sex.

You blush and throw a pillow at him.

"You fool! I meant the food, not that!" - Jungkook catches the pillow and laughs, leaning closer to kiss your forehead again.

"Okay, okay, food is food. But I definitely don't mind repeating what happened before. You're driving me crazy." - He confesses. God, this man. He is your undoing. You smile slyly, answering with a playful tone.

"Well, you'd better be careful, or you'll drive me to a hungry faint." - You say. He gets up from the bed and reaches for his boxers, keeping his eyes on you.

"God forbid. I don't want you to complain to me that I left you without energy. So let's go take a shower, and let's go have breakfast." - Jungkook says. You stand up with a smile, tying your robe around your waist.

"You're right. If I don't eat in half an hour, I'll eat your brains with a teaspoon." - You joke. Jungkook smiles, turning you around and kissing you softly on the neck.

"Your hungry soul is my responsibility. Now let's go before you start threatening me even more." - You both shower, get dressed, and within a few minutes you're out of the apartment holding hands, ready to spend the morning together.

Jungkook's Mercedes crosses the Yeongsan Bridge, which offers a wide view of the Han River. The sun had already risen and was gently caressing your face from one side. The cabin was silent, diluted only by the soft sound of the engine and the music from the radio.

You sat leaning on the armrest, watching the sun's rays reflect off the metal structures of the bridge. But this picture awakened an unpleasant memory.

Your heart clenched at the flash of memory: that terrible night when you had a fight with Jungkook and were kidnapped on this very bridge. Cold, fear, screams, and a sense of hopelessness filled your mind. It was a terrible ending to the old year and an even worse beginning to the new.

You blinked hard, trying to drive these thoughts away, and turned your gaze to the sun. It was rising above the horizon, promising a new day and perhaps new opportunities. You felt warm and calm in the car, as if this journey was erasing your worries. And despite all the horror and suffering you had experienced in the first month of the new year, you were now with Jungkook and you were not going to part with him again.

Jungkook, silent, looked from the road to your face. He reached out and gently touched your thigh. You looked down at his hand and did not hesitate to cover it with your own. Your fingers intertwined with his, and Jungkook squeezed them tightly, as if to say: "I'm here for you. You don't have to be afraid of anything."

You smiled and tilted your head, touching his shoulder. Then you suddenly remembered that you hadn't taken the pills you had bought before the trip. Pulling out a bottle of water and a blister, you quickly swallowed the emergency contraceptive, and Jungkook noticed and gave you a sly look.

"I guess you didn't have to do that." - He says, holding back a half-smile. You freeze with the bottle by your mouth and look at him angrily, raising an eyebrow.

"You mean you don't have to? Drink the medicine or something?" - You clarify. Jungkook looks in the side mirrors to overtake the car in front of him. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Yeah. You know, I wouldn't mind becoming a father this year." - He replies. Jungkook's voice was casual, but he had that mischievous glint in his eye. Your heart skipped a beat, the thought of Jungkook getting you pregnant, made you terrified and excited at the same time. You can't get pregnant, not now. Because you're still studying, your parents don't know about your relationship, and after all, Jungkook is a member of the mafia and his life is troubled. It's not a good time to get pregnant.

"Jungkook!" - You shouted, punching his shoulder. "Never joke about such things. It's like joking about the police or fines. So don't do it again!" - You finish by pointing your finger at Jungkook's face. He laughs gutturally.

"Come on, baby, it was just a joke. But I'm not against fatherhood." - Jungkook said. You snort in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Which fatherhood? Our parents don't even know we're dating." - You said. Jungkook looked at you.

"Is that a problem? Let's tell them." - He suggests in a completely casual voice. You turn your head sharply at him.

"Tell them?" - You ask again, as if you thought he wasn’t suggesting it.

"Yes." - He confirms his words. "We'll say you're pregnant so we can get married." - Jungkook says seriously, and you freeze with your mouth open. But when he starts laughing, you can't help but poke him in the shoulder angrily.

"Are you crazy? Why are you talking like that? I told you not to joke about it!!!" - You almost shout. Jungkook is amused by your anger. But to be honest, what he said sounded so intriguing.

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again." - Jungkook was protecting himself of your beatings. You stopped hitting him when he assured you. "But I'm serious, let's tell them. How about we go to their place for the weekend?" - He suggests. You breathe heavily, irritated by his behavior. But your boyfriend's serious tone and suggestion calms you down.

"That sounds good. Will you have a free weekend?" - You ask, but your voice is still a little sharp.

"Yes. Besides, I promised my mom I'd come back after the new year." - Jungkook confirms. You relax, and think you like his offer. It will be a great relief to finally tell your and his parents about your relationship. Because your friends seem to know you're dating anyway.

Jungkook parks the car in front of the elegant “Noir Brunch” sign, which stands out unobtrusively among the architecture of the not-so-wide street in Itaewon.

The café looks restrained but statusy: dark wood doors, gold accents on the sign, soft light coming through the large windows, which are covered with heavy velvet curtains. Morning silence reigns around, with only a light rustle of wind adding a sense of mystery.

"I think you'll like this place. They say it has the best French toast in town." - Jungkook says, turning to you and smiling.

You go inside, and the atmosphere of the cafe immediately envelops you in comfort. The interior is decorated with dark leather sofas, polished wood tables, dim light from pendant lamps, and a light aroma of coffee mixed with hints of cinnamon. Black-and-white photographs and noir-style posters line the walls.

The hostess, a tall man in an impeccable suit, greets you with a polite smile and gestures for you to follow him. You don't notice that before you are led to a table, Jungkook waves at the hostess to not emphasize his presence. But you weren't so dumb as to notice the word “Noir” in the name of the cafe and draw parallels, realizing that this is one of the establishments owned by Namjoon.

You are led to a table by a panoramic window. The soft sofa perfectly supports your back, creating a feeling of comfort. Junguk sits down next to you, clearly not wanting to be far away from you. You open the menu to place your order. The waiter who came to your table a moment ago. A young guy, about your age. He greets you and is ready to write down your order.

You order two croissants for yourself, opting out of French toast when you see the menu with an assortment of croissants that you love. You choose a salty croissant with ricotta and truffle oil and a chocolate croissant with butter. You also ordered a large cappuccino. Jungkook ordered eggs benedict with smoked salmon. To go with his cappuccino, he orders chocolate French toast, which you read is on the menu, served with ice cream and chocolate mousse pieces. Jungkook loves chocolate, and having known him for so long, you're not surprised at all by his choice of dessert.

While you wait for your order, you relax on the couch. Your head leans back and you look around.

The cafe is crowded. The waiters are in a hurry to bring out their orders. People occupy almost every table. It seems to be an elegant audience, those who like quiet conversations and classic aesthetics. This place is popular, it is immediately clear.

In one corner, you notice a couple talking with cautious smiles, sometimes casting glances at each other that betray hidden passion. Your eyes involuntarily return to Jungkook, who is sitting next to them. He is typing a message to someone.

You look at his handsome face and feel butterflies in your stomach. All your insides are fluttering at the thought of telling your parents about your relationship. You think they'll be happy, but you're still nervous for some reason.

Jungkook feels eyes on him and turns to look up at you. You don't have time to look away, thinking about your own and are instantly caught red-handed. You smile innocently, and Jungkook squints his eyes suspiciously.

"Doing it again? Admiring me?" - He asks playfully. So that's exactly what you were doing.

"I was trying to figure out if that's a new mole on your face or not." - You lie, so he won't know that you were really admiring him. Jungkook bursts out laughing. You find yourself smiling after him.

"Why are you such a little liar, baby?" - Jungkook asks you as he approaches you dangerously. He touches his nose to your jaw, running it along. You immediately shiver. Your pulse quickens, but you try to remain calm, even though you feel all the changed details of the world around you in his proximity.

"What are you doing? You shouldn't do that in public..." - You say. Jungkook kisses your earlobe and you flinch. He puts his hand on your thigh, which is not visible at the table. He moves his hand to your fly. You immediately grab his hand, not letting him continue. Jungkook pulls away from your earlobe and whispers, burning your skin.

"I want everyone to see that you're mine." - He says. You turn your head to him, and your lips are separated by a couple of centimeters. Jungkook's eyes fall to your lips and he literally holds on with his last strength not to kiss you.

"Why would you show this to anyone?" - You ask, lowering your voice. He becomes seductive.

"I don't know. I want all the assholes who look at you to see that they don't have a chance." - He replies, looking at your lips again. You laugh softly.

"What assholes? No one was looking at me when we walked in here." - You say.

"You just didn't pay attention. But I saw everything" - Jungkook tells you. You raise your eyebrows and pinch the corner of your mouth.

"Your jealousy is a turn-on." - You say. Jungkook laughs out loud. He takes your chin with his index finger and thumb and squeezes it lightly.

"Careful what you say, love. Don't make me drag you to the car to fuck your tight pussy for the second time tonight." - He says low. Now you're definitely turned on. How can Junguk influence you so easily? You smile, holding back your excitement, even though the throbbing between your legs has been there for a long time.

Jungkook kisses your lips anyway. He even pushes his tongue into your mouth, intertwining his own with yours. You can barely contain your moaning into his mouth and are nervous that you are sitting in a cafe and might be made fun of. They're not going to do that, are they?

Jungkook pulls away faster than you thought. He smiles right into your lips and then lets go, sitting up straight. He sniffles through his nose.

Just a moment later, a waiter comes to your table and brings your order. You overcome the hurricane that Jungkook's kiss has been building in your midsection and start eating. Only when the food is in front of your eyes do you really realize how hungry you are.

You take a sip of coffee, unable to resist its enticing aroma.

You hear your phone vibrate and see a message from Doohoon. Last night and this morning you experienced so many emotions that it feels like a lifetime. And you have completely forgotten about Doohoon.

You cast a cautious glance at Jungkook. He nonchalantly puts a piece of salmon in his mouth and checks his phone. You pick up yours and open the message.

10.01 AM | Doohoon: Good morning candy 😉 I'm picking you up around 8pm tonight. You promised we'd have dinner. Of course I won't accept any excuses. Even if the world ends, we will go to dinner with you 🙃

You immediately frown and unconsciously click your tongue. You really promised him. While reading the message, you didn't notice that Jungkook was looking at you the whole time. He noticed that someone had written to you. He sees your expression and tenses up. Is it easy to guess who wrote to you?

"Is something wrong, baby?" - Jungkook asks while chewing. You put the phone down as if to hide it, but you're not going to hide anything. You take a deep breath and put the phone down on the table.

"No." - You say short. Jungkook doesn't take his eyes off you, because he sees that you're going to keep talking. You take another sip of coffee and then speak. "When we weren't talking, Doohoon was always there for me. Then when he saved me in the warehouse...." - Jungkook grunted when he hears you say that he saved you. You raise your eyebrows and look at him with a question.

"It's okay, go ahead." - Jungkook tells you quickly.

"What did I say that was funny?" - You clarify.

"Just keep saying what you wanted to say. Later I'll tell you why I did it." - Jungkook replies. You look unhappy for a moment and then continue.

"Since then, he's been around me all the time, bothering me." - You continue. You don't notice how nervous Jungkook is. He looks down at his plate and continues eating. "He wants to be a friends. Of course, I didn't accept his friendship, but he didn't listen to me. By the way, he helped me find an apartment. Yesterday, he pressed me and invited me to dinner..." - Jungkook turns his head sharply to you, and he doesn't look annoyed, but he very much is. His eyebrows fly up, and he waits for you to continue. You look at your boyfriend awkwardly, and you really want to ask him what you should do. "That was before you came. So don't even look at me like that." - You say, feeling Jungkook's tension.

"How do I look at you?" - Jungkook wonders, smiling.

"As if I want to go with him." - You reply, offended.

"Do you?" - Jungkook asks. You glare at him fiercely. What kind of stupid question is that?

"Obviously not. But I've made many excuses. Today he wrote and said he doesn't accept excuses anymore. I don't know what to do..." - You say, asking Jungkook to tell you. But he doesn't say anything. He just smiles and goes back to eating breakfast. You stare at him in confusion. He should be throwing a tantrum, telling you that you shouldn't hang out with this bastard, but he's indifferently chewing on his smoked salmon.

You turn back to your plate and want to start eating breakfast, but you're annoyed that Jungkook hasn't said anything to you. You pick up the ricotta’s croissant and then throw it back on the plate.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" - You don't hold back.

"What am I supposed to say?" - He asks without turning to you. "Should I give you advice to have a dinner with him or not?" - Jungkook does turn to you. You are breathing nervously.

"At least. Because seems you don't care if I go to dinner with him or not." - You state. Jungkook throws his fork on the plate. It doesn't fall hard, but the sound of the impact is loud enough. Jungkook leans toward you, lowering his voice.

"What makes you think I don't care? You are a self-sufficient person and you have to make your own decision. I don't want to influence you." - Jungkook explains. You soften after hearing his words, but you're still not satisfied for some reason.

"I was expecting you to forbid me, as you always do. And then you suddenly thought I could make my own decisions." - You sneer. Jungkook quickly rolls her eyes, and you notice.

"I've always remembered that. Don't think that if Doohoon 'saved' you..." - He puts the word 'saved' in quotes and continues. "That he's no standing dangerous for you." - You analyze Jungkook's words, and something disturbing comes to mind. You remember how Doohoon threatened to show you his "true face" in the car and realize that Jungkook is probably right. Of course, you won't tell your boyfriend about it.

"If he's dangerous, even though I still don't understand why, should I don’t go to dinner with him?" - You ask. Jungkook is nervous, darts his eyes between yours and looks away.

"Whatever you want." - He says. You exhale nervously. You remain silent, going back to your food. You taste your croissant, and for some reason you don't like it. Jungkook finishes his egg and moves on to the chocolate toast. You see that he is still tense.

"I don't want to go. I really don't want to go." - You say sincerely and desperately, breaking the heavy silence between you. Jungkook looks at you and there is something warm and familiar in his eyes. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

"Then don't go." - He suggests. But you realize that you need to meet Doohoon. You need to tell him that you've made up with Jungkook and maybe beg him to leave you alone.

"He's not going to leave me alone, I just thought..." - You want to tell Jungkook what you think about talking nicely, but he interrupts.

"Should I kill him? So he'll leave you alone and you won't have to worry?" - Jungkook suggests. You instantly freeze. He doesn't sound like he's joking.

"No. Jungkook! I'm serious, let's not joke!" - You say. Jungkook looks you in the eye seriously.

"You think I'm joking now?" - He raises one eyebrow.

"Jungkook!!!" - You hiss. "You don't have to kill anyone. I wanted to tell you that maybe we should do the opposite."

"What do we mean the opposite?" - Jungkook doesn't understand.

"I mean, maybe we should explain everything to him in a nice way, and then he will realize that he has no chance and maybe he will calm down?" - You finish your thought. Jungkook presses his lips together in displeasure. You look at his mole under his lip, which immediately catches your attention.

"You can try. But I don't think it will work." - Jungkook says honestly.

"It's worth a try. I believe I can do it. I'll explain everything to him, tell him I love you, and no matter what he does, I'll not be able to reciprocate." - You say softly. Jungkook takes your hand in his and kisses your palm. He's happy to hear that you love him, but he doesn't like your idea.

"I don't know, baby. I wouldn't want you to go, but if you think you need to talk to them, then do it." - Jungkook supports your decision, like it or not. Now you are completely satisfied with his decision.

It is cool and damp outside. The sun has long since set, and you don't know where the fog came from, hiding the tops of the high-rise buildings in a thick sheet.

A gray Volvo parked nearby your driveway immediately catches your eye. You take a deep breath and exhale and open the car door with determination.

Doohoon greets you with a tired smile. You sit down next to him on the seat and smile back at him.

"Hi, candy." - He greets you and moves from his seat, looking you up and down. You were wearing simple black jeans with many pockets and a burgundy short jacket. You had a long, high ponytail tied back on your head.

"Hi." - You say briefly. You stare at the road in front of you, ignoring the view of Doohoon.

"How are you?" - He asks shortly. You tense up at his soft voice.

"Fine. How are you?" - You ask out of politeness.

"Seeing you made me feel better. I have a lot of work to do right now. A little overwhelmed to be honest." - Doohoon replies, and you tense up even more. Your shoulders are aching with tension.

"Let's go to Sambaek House, a restaurant a block away. I want samgyopsal, I haven't had it in so long." - You suggest, ignoring Doohoon's words. He purses his lips.

"I thought we were going to go to a European restaurant. You are a fan of it. I even made a reservation." - He sounds a little disappointed.

"But I'm not dressed for a restaurant at all. I wrote you that I was at the university and I don’t have a time to got dressed just before you arrived. And besides, I'm dying to eat some roast pork." - You're lying. In fact, you've been home all day after you and Jungkook had breakfast and he had to leave for business. You also chose the restaurant where you wanted to eat pork for a reason. It was a very popular place in Guro-gu, the neighborhood where you live now. It was crowded and close to your home. The perfect place for you to talk to Doohoon.

Doohoon changes the route. He realizes that if he doesn't listen to you, you will feel uncomfortable. So he agrees.

"Okay, candy, your wish is law."

You arrive quickly because it's literally just down the street. You barely find an open table and make yourself comfortable. You order two large portions of rice, plates of raw meat-marinated and unmarinated, kimchi, binnamul (soybean sprouts), and pickled radish. And of course, lettuce and sesame seeds, without which any samgyopsal is not as tasty. Finally, you order a bottle of beer and glasses of soju.

You don't wait long. In just a minute, you're served meat, rice, and Korean salads. You start eating kimchi with rice, and Doohoon starts grilling the meat. He's dressed up and looks like a real drama guy, so the looks of the half-drunk girls who come to this restaurant after work are too frank to ignore. But he does. Because he's only interested in you.

You have a small talk and you feel awkward. You haven't really spent much time with Doohoon since he showed up before the new year. Before that, you hadn't spoken to him in three years, and he was the second person you didn't want to get to know. Doohoon, on the other hand, craved your attention and wanted to know everything about you, but you skillfully hid everything from him. Of course, not taking into account the facts that he learned about you without your knowledge. In short, he knew everything about you, and you thought he knew nothing.

After eating a little and drinking one glass of beer with the roast pork, you finally decided to talk to Doohoon about why you agreed to come to this dinner. You took a sip of the beer Doohoon poured you and cleared your throat.

"Doohoon, there's something I really wanted to talk to you about." - You say softly. Doohoon looks up at you as he continues to grill the pork. He looks at you for a long few seconds, wondering what you'd like to talk about, and finally answers.

"Yes, candy. I'm listening to you." - He says, shouting a little over the meat's sizzling and the voices around him. You shift in your chair, not knowing why you're nervous. You shouldn't be afraid to tell Doohoon about you and Jungkook.

"I made up with Jungkook." - You start. You don't expect Doohoon to drop the tongs for meat. The metal hitting the grill makes you flinch. Doohoon almost instantly picks them up and leans closer.

"I'm sorry, they just slipped out of my hands. I didn't hear what you said, repeat it. People are talking so loud." - He's lying. In fact, he did hear what you said. He just can't get his ears to stop banging. He has to make sure you said what he heard first. You smile nervously and repeat.

"I made up with Jungkook. I realized that I love him and I can't live without him. So I accept him as he is." - You pause briefly and continue. "I'm sorry about this, but Doohoon it’s the main reason I won't be able to respond to your feelings. So please forgive me, and don't misunderstand me. I love Jungkook and he loves me. We are dating. Knowing how bad your relationship is, I don't want you to continue to fight because of me, so I think it's only logical that we don't have to communicate anymore." - You finally finish your thought. Doohoon, who had been grilling the meat the whole time and not looking at you, put down his chopsticks and took a drink of beer. He looked up at you and smiled.

"How long ago did you make up?" - He asked. You stared intently into his face. He definitely didn't know that you made up with Jungkook because he was surprised.

"Yesterday. It happened yesterday." - You admit. Doohoon nods his head and purses his lips.

"So you accept who he is because you love him?" - Doohoon clarifies for himself. You can hear your heart beating fast in your chest. You shouldn't be nervous, but for some reason you are, and you can't figure out why.

"Yes. I love him." - You say, unable to hold back a slight smile.

These words are like the sharpest knife for Doohoon, cutting his heart in half. He boils in the middle, but remains completely calm. Doohoon takes a few more sips of beer, longer ones, and puts the glass on the table.

You've upset him. You pissed him off. You fucking pissed him off. He's furious on and wants to just smash this table, this restaurant, and the whole world for being you so stupid and in love with Jungkook.

He tried his best to make Jungkook look bad to you, but you're blind. You don't see what Doohoon sees. And he sees Jungkook's true face, and it's a clear, vile, dangerous creature who doesn't deserve to touch you, let alone be around you.

You deserve better than that. You deserve stability, protection, peace. You deserve it. And instead you choose... this. His blood boils at the thought.

He scans your face in silence, your smile that you don't even try to hide when you talk about that bastard. Doohoon knows that if he lets his emotions run wild now, everything will go to hell. So he just picks up the tongs again, tosses the meat on the grill, and pretends to listen to you calmly.

"I understand you." - He finally says. "And I will respect your choice. But I have a request for you. A small one." - He clarifies. And you tense up again because you're afraid you can't fulfill this request.

"What is it?" - You ask cautiously.

"I don't want to stop being your friend. You know our history of friendship is also very long. So I'm asking you to let me write to you sometimes to see how you are doing. And sometimes we can meet to just eat together, like today." - Doohoon asks you, smiling, so that you can be sure of his "good" intentions. But you don't answer right away. You look at him distantly. As usual, you can't believe him right away. But soon your trust will not matter because you will be his anyway. Whether you want to be or not.

"I don't know, Doohoon. I don't want to hide anything from Jungkook. So let me discuss it with him and I let you know." - you say. Doohoon laughs in frustration.

"Then it's doomed to fail right away." - He says, as he piles more meat on your plate.

"You think?" - You ask.

"He obviously hates me. Have you forgotten when he put a gun to my head?" - Doohoon says as if by accident. And you instantly freeze. Your fingers grip the chopsticks a little harder than necessary.

Memories of that moment pierce through you, making your heart beat loudly. You remember that day. How everything turned to chaos.

"I remember, but he wasn't himself then..." - You try to justify Jungkook. You're interrupted by Doohoon.

"Candy, there's no point in saying whether he was himself or not. It's a fact that he's a gangster and you're the only one who has to live with it, because you chose him. If you manage to convince him that I'm just a friend and I want you to be okay, I'll be happy. If not, then that's the way it will be." - Doohoon says. You look at him and something unpleasant settles in your heart. You don't want Doohoon in your life, and that's a fact. But in order to appease him, to make him less of a nuisance, you must now try to persuade Jungkook.

Doohoon puts the meat on the grill again, turning the conversation to something mundane. He realizes that there's only one way to win you over, and that's to destroy Jungkook. But he has to think carefully about how to do it. He has to come up with a new, more effective plan. And now he won't be acting through you, but through Namjoon, who won't forgive him so easily like you did.

Doohoon looks at you as you tell him about the topic of your thesis, but his thoughts are far from reality.

"You have no idea how close I am to changing everything." - He thinks. You smile, and he stares into your face, mesmerized. Jungkook doesn't deserve you. That's why you have to be his. You're the reason for Doohoon’s existence.

↰ Previous chapter ⋮ ≣ Index ↓ ⋮ Next chapter ↱

[raayllum]

Can you explain why Claudia is so upset with Terry when they reunite after he leaves? And why Terry, of all people, looks so guilty with her that he can't even look her in the eye? It's one of those things where you know this should all be reversed, but isn't. Why? Why is the betrayer so hostile to the betrayed?

God I loved the messy as fuck whatever they had going on Claudia and Terry dynamic in S7, and I think there's a few reasons why

One of the cruxes of Claudia's character is that she is attached to seeing herself as a good person, and others as not-good by comparison. This means that she can engage in the exact same behaviour and justify it while assuming that others' reasonings couldn't possibly measure up.

This cognitive dissonance is not exclusive to Claudia (Callum and Rayla in particular have a tendency to justify each other's choices in ways they don't with other characters, i.e. Rayla viewing dark magic use being 'evil' except when Callum is using it and he's the 'goodest' person she knows) but the focus on 'my view of myself' largely is. Most other characters in TDP are focused on "I still view this other person as a good person," not being focused on "I view myself as a good person". But Claudia is, and it's this core desire being increasingly pitted against "I will do vile, awful things to keep my family together" that are constantly duking it out.

When Claudia finds Soren and Terry waiting for her, it's clear that not only has Terry joined her brother, but has turned against her (as he could've left and then just fucked off somewhere else). This association with Soren, I think, is one of the things that gets her haunches raised, since Soren made it very clear what he thinks the last time they saw one another in 4x07:

SOREN: You have to stop trying to release the greatest evil this world has ever known. CLAUDIA: I knew you wouldn't understand.

All Claudia hears is "there's something wrong with you." That she's the bad guy and on the Wrong side (which, to be fair, Soren also calls her and Viren bad humans when trying to wake Rex Igneous in 4x09). And, by extension, that Soren is better than her. More correct, more moral, more Right.

And Claudia cannot stand feeling judged. She cannot stand being treated like 'the bad guy' (because of course from her perspective, everything she does is right) and she struggles to hold a conception of "I did something genuinely wrong and can still be a good person" (see: "We're not going to the dungeons Soren, we didn't do anything wrong") usually leaning into one or the other, and normally the latter.

So Terry being with Soren is also "you think I'm wrong, you think I'm bad, and you think you're Better than me" (vs Aaravos' "believed we could be better, so he gave us magic"). She thinks the pair are there to stop her, and she's not wrong, on a certain level.

So when Soren makes a gesture of good will, openly contingent on Terry wanting to spare her ("You're here to save me? How generous [...] I can change, and you will help me. Did I get everything?" Karim vibes), it's just seen as "you're showing off how/why you think you're Better than me" and was, quite frankly, never going to work.

Soren setting down his sword came closer, as it's more reciprocal, and it also symbolizes Soren setting down his mantle/duty (the same sword that killed Viren the first time, presumably). But Soren makes another mistake; the same mistake he made in 4x07:

Dad is dead, Claudia. You don't have to do what he wants anymore.

Set down your staff, Claudia. Dad's staff.

But while Claudia has been doing stuff for Viren, she hasn't done what he wanted in a long time. She's been doing what she wants ("You are not letting go, Dad!") for a hot second, and now alongside Aaravos. (I need to write a scene on her and Aaravos' talk in 7x06, but that's for another day.) And that has included taking down elves and dragons as a whole (and any elf that doesn't help her) for a while.

The dragons and the elves, all the arrogant fools blinded by the searing light of their own self-righteousness.

They are wrong, and she and Aaravos are right ("So much we can make right"). This is a very black-and-white viewpoint in many ways, one that some characters are faster as dismantling than others, but I have no doubt that Arc 3 will push it to its breaking point for all of them. Soren and Terry have thrown in their loyalties with the elves and dragons, since Terry was previously a "good elf Exception" alongside Aaravos because they were both helping her and, as previously discussed, Terry has now turned against her, and all the baggage Claudia carries about such a thing is now dumped onto him by proxy (which Terry doesn't necessarily know or understand).

So what does he look so guilty over?

Honestly? The illusion plan. I'm sure he's worried that Claudia might get hurt, and that things might escalate / go south, but he is ultimately there with a plan that is not what he wanted. What Terry wanted was to find the real Lissa and give Claudia a real chance to connect with her mother and maybe change her ways. But it's not real. It's deception, and he knows it.

TERRY: You lied to me! AARAVOS: I never lie. I simply said we needed a big feather and a very small feather. That is all. TERRY: No. You say you never lie, what you do is worse. You tell people half-truths and let people fill in the rest. You make people lie to themselves. It's deception. It's manipulation, and it's wrong.

She betrayed him, and now in his own way he's betraying her.

So what makes him decide to turn around and do something... similar, shall we say? There's a few things. The first is that they're on a time limit and have no way to reach Lissa. The second is that it's plausible the others were going to do it anyway, and Terry accompanied them because 1) he couldn't stop them, 2) he felt responsible, and 3) hoped that his presence would make a positive difference to Claudia.

The second is the other half of what Aaravos says to Terry, I think.

TERRY: I'll tell Claudia. AARAVOS: Oh, it will change nothing. She loves me. [...] And what of Claudia, then? She knows so much more than she tells you, and she keeps it that way to protect you.

Now, Terry rightfully understands that Claudia wasn't keep things from him to protect him; she did it to use him and to keep him from leaving ("I knew he'd leave once he found out"). However, Terry being willing to live in a half-truth and employ one on Claudia because he genuinely believes it will help her, because he thinks it's a truth he needs to withhold to protect her ("You have to promise me that no harm will come to Claudia" is most easily kept if she backs down)... that I can believe, especially since it lets him believe that she's capable of change/quitting. He wants to Save her, not use her.

That doesn't mean he thinks it won't Hurt.

[miss-nandini]

hey, can you make me a Mirage x fluff reader please mostly cuddling minor cussing please

A/N: I love Mirage. Hope you like it! It got a bit sad in the middle.

Little Things (Mirage x Reader)

It was one of those rides with him where he would be having the time of his life and your head would be spinning.

"Mirage, please stop! I think I'm going to throw up!"

"Hey! Don't you dare throw up inside me!"

Whether out of fear or sheer annoyance, he finds a spot soon enough and lets you stumble out of his alt mode. 

"Sometimes you are no fun, you know that?"

You look around, rolling your eyes as he accuses you of being boring. "It's not my fault that you decide to be a little shit."

You look around again. It seemed like he had brought you far away from the town area. You couldn't see anything other than grassy fields that seemed to stretch on forever.

"Mirage, where are we?"

"How would I know, (Y/N)?"

"Excuse me? Do you even know the way back?" You huffed. He really was something, wasn't he?

"Hey! Don't you trust me? I'm so hurt."

You heard him changing back to his original form behind you. 

"No need to be so dramatic."

"You are soooo mean, (Y/N)"

You could almost feel his pout even though you weren't looking at him. "Well, guess it wouldn't hurt to just sit around for a while."

You found a spot and sat down. Soon, you could hear him walking towards you to join you. You looked up at the sky. The night was still young and there were stars so bright that you couldn't help but admire them. 

"They are so beautiful."

"Yeah..."

You looked at Mirage. He was looking at the sky. But, for some reason, he looked... sad. It worried you. He usually looked  so happy-go-lucky. The sudden change in his demeanor was... startling.

"Mirage?"

"You know... the stars looked just as beautiful from Cybertron... The sky in Cybertron was... stunning."

The tender look in his eyes took your breath away. Sometimes you forget that he has lost his home. It is only natural that little things remind him of the home he was forced to leave.

"Hey, Mirage...? I know this is not Cybertron and I can not give you what you lost. But... you can think of Earth as another home, yeah? Things will never be the same again, but I promise that you will always have a home to return to. You have the others and of course... you have me..."

"Y/N..."

He picked you up in his servos and cradled you to his chassis. "Thank you..."

You placed your palms on top of his servos, your warmth bringing a smile to his face. "You are not so bad for a human, you know?"

"And you are absolutely annoying for a bot." 

"I will get back at you for that."

You yelped as he lay himself down on the grass with you on his chassis. "Hey! Don't do that!"

"Nopeee, I will keep doing this." He tried to ruffle your hair.

"Mirage!"

"Right, sorry sorry. But seriously, thank you for everything, (Y/N)"

"You are welcome buddy, you are welcome."

As you stayed curled up on his chassis, the night out with him didn't feel too bad anymore. It made you realize how much you still didn't know about Mirage. You have grown attached to him. Maybe, the next ride with him wouldn't be so bad after all.

[growthhyp]

I love your stories dude! Do you think that you could turn me into a huge Viking warrior?

For a Thousand Bucks

I am preferring you to Jack, the owner of the garage sale. Hope you like it.

You approached the garage, and there he was, Jack, a man who looked like he could have been chiseled out of a block of granite. His biceps bulged under the sleeves of his t-shirt, which bore the logo of a local gym.

"What can I get for you today?" Jack boomed, his deep voice echoing through the clutter of the garage.

You looked around at the piles of old baseball cards, dusty electronics, and faded furniture. "Well, Jack," you began, feeling slightly ridiculous, "I'm a huge fan of Vikings. I know it's a long shot, but is there anything here that could, you know, take me back to their time and turn me into a warrior?"

Jack's eyes lit up with a glint of mischief. He reached behind a stack of comic books and pulled out a gleaming sword. "Ah," he said, "I think I've got just the thing."

The sword looked ancient, with intricate runes etched along its blade. It had a wooden handle wrapped in leather that looked worn from centuries of use. You couldn't believe your luck. "How much do you want for it?" you asked, your voice trembling with excitement.

Jack's smile grew wider, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "It's a rare piece, my friend. For you, and only because I can see the passion in your eyes, I'll let it go for a thousand dollars."

The price didn't shock you. In fact, you had been saving for a bike that cost twice that amount. The allure of the sword, however, was something money couldn't buy. It was the gateway to your dreams. You reached into your pocket, pulled out the crisp bills, and handed them over to Jack without a second thought. "It's all yours," he said, his voice filled with a strange excitement. "Remember, you just need to wield it."

The moment the cash exchanged hands, a strange feeling washed over you. It was as if the very air grew thick with anticipation. You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you took the sword in your hands. It felt surprisingly light, the balance perfect. As you turned to leave, Jack called out, "Good luck, young warrior!" His words lingered in your ears as you walked away, feeling the weight of destiny in your grip.

Once you were back in your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a little let down. You had just bought a sword that was supposed to transport you to the Viking era and turn you into a warrior, but all you had to show for it was a very expensive decoration. With a sigh, you decided to at least play the part. You took a swing, the blade slicing through the air with a satisfying whoosh.

As you continued to swing the sword, the room grew dimmer around the edges. The modern furniture and appliances grew hazy, and you felt your legs wobble beneath you. Your eyes grew heavy, and with a final, hopeful grunt, you collapsed to the floor.

When you woke, you weren't in your apartment anymore. The concrete had turned to packed earth, and the walls had been replaced with wooden planks, chinked with a mixture of mud and straw to keep out the cold. The light was different too – softer, with a gentle warmth that suggested it came from a nearby fire rather than a light bulb. You sat up, bewildered, and looked down at your new attire. The tunic and robe felt rough against your skin, and the leather shoes on your feet were surprisingly comfortable.

You stepped outside into the bustling Viking village, and all eyes turned to you. The children giggled at your skinny frame, and the burly warriors cast you dubious glances. You felt the weight of your own disappointment pressing down on your shoulders. This wasn't the epic transformation you had dreamed of. You had wanted to be a mighty hero, not a weakling that could barely lift a shield.

But as you wandered the dirt paths, you overheard whispers of a legendary sword, one said to grant the strength of a thousand men to its wielder. Your heart raced. Could this be the answer to your prayers? You approached the village elder, a wise-looking man with a long white beard, and asked him about the sword. He leaned in close and spoke in hushed tones of the blade's resting place atop a nearby hill, buried in a stone pedestal. The villagers believed it to be a myth, a story to tell around the fire, but you knew better.

You set off on a quest to find the hill, your heart pounding with excitement. The journey was long and arduous, but with the thought of becoming the warrior you had always dreamed of, you pushed on. When you finally reached the hill, you saw the pedestal, a simple stone structure with a sword sticking out of it. You could feel the energy emanating from the weapon, calling out to you.

You approached with caution, unsure if it was a trap or a test of some sort. As you touched the handle, you felt a strange warmth spread through your body. The sword was heavy, much heavier than you had anticipated. You wrapped your skinny fingers around it and took a deep breath. The muscles in your arms quivered as you tried to pull it out. The sword didn't budge.

You took a step back, gritted your teeth, and tried again. This time, with a grunt that sounded more like a squeak, you managed to lift the sword an inch. The villagers had stopped their activities and were now watching you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. You ignored them, focusing all your energy on the task at hand. With a mighty heave, you managed to pull the blade halfway out. The effort made you stumble, but you regained your balance, your eyes never leaving the gleaming weapon.

Finally, with a roar that seemed to come from the depths of your soul, you yanked the sword free. The sound of metal scraping stone echoed through the quiet afternoon, followed by a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to come from the very sky itself. The crowd gasped as a bolt of lightning struck the sword, sending a shockwave through the ground and knocking you to your knees. The energy surged through the blade and into your body, setting your very being alight with a fiery power that was unlike anything you had ever felt.

Your body began to change before your eyes. Your chest swelled outwards, each muscle popping out like the cobblestones of the village streets. Your stomach tightened into a series of ridges, forming a six-pack that looked as if it had been carved by the gods themselves. Your shoulders grew broader, your biceps bulging to the point where they looked like they could crush rocks with a mere flex. The horseshoe shape of your triceps grew more pronounced, and your forearms thickened like the trunks of ancient oaks.

Your legs ballooned with power, the muscles stretching until they looked like they could snap a man in two with a single kick. Your calves grew round and powerful, each one a testament to the might of a true Viking warrior. Your neck thickened, and your jawline took on a new sharpness, giving you the fierce countenance of a chieftain. Your face grew more angular, your cheekbones becoming more prominent, your eyes now set in a face that was both handsome and terrifying.

The armor that materialized around your body was not just any armor. It was the armor of a Viking chieftain – ornate and gleaming, with intricate engravings that spoke of battles won and enemies vanquished. The metal felt like a second skin, molding perfectly to your new form. The helm that appeared on your head was adorned with the horns of a ram, giving you a commanding presence that was impossible to ignore.

You felt the weight of the armor and the power of the sword in your hand, and you knew that you were no longer the skinny college kid from the future. You were a Viking, born anew in the past. Your eyes searched the horizon, hungry for the battles you knew were to come. The villagers watched you in amazement as your transformation was complete, their whispers of doubt now replaced by gasps of awe.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Blood brother

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female) Authors note: I kind of hate it. It's so long since I wrote something and it feels like first time again. I have wanted to write it for a while already but never got to it. It's a wonderful idea planted into my head by the lovely @thenameswinter99 in one of our chats but I know I made it different, so I hope you'll not be angry with me. Warnings: actually none. Some description of violence but nothing very graphical Word Count: 8,7 K (sorry 😅) Summary: having lost everything and thinking she's been abandoned by everybody, even her best friend Sihtric, reader on her quest for revenge founds out that life can be full of surprises and that there is always space for hope

Please remember that comments and reblogs are two things that make writers smile and keep us motivated.

The night was dark, the feeble, pale light of the new moon barely illuminating your path through the woods. You shuddered as if trying to shake off the cold, the chill air biting your cheeks and each exhale leaving a shimmering, silvery fog in the air. Yet you didn’t stop, didn’t turn back. Just the opposite. 

Your small feet quickened their pace, finding the path beneath them with the assuredness of a cat on the hunt, and with each step you took your eyes adjusted further to the darkness and to the eerie shadows and flickering shapes the moonlight made dancing around you.  

You should have been scared, a small girl alone in the middle of the forest, the familiar and warm lights of your home far behind. But you weren’t, not anymore. 

You pressed on, ducking under the bony, outstretched arms of thorn bushes and leaping over moss covered, fallen trunks. Yes, there had been fear, but that was before. Before this forest had become your home, your secret ally, the protector of your dreams. Before you had learned to become one with it, to listen to its whispers, to feel its heartbeat in the quiet rustling of the leaves.

Before you had met him. 

—----------------------------------------------------

The sun was slowly dipping behind the horizon, making the shadows grow longer, and a distant crack of a twig sent your heart racing. You had never been so scared before in your whole life. 

You had been picking berries, one step leading to another, each shiny little red perl hidden in the green tapestry of shrubs inviting you further and further from the familiar path until there was no path at all, only an impenetrable thicket of trees and bushes all looking alike.

You clutched the small basket you had been carrying as if it could shield you.

That was when you heard that low, unmistakable growl behind you.

You spun around and froze, your legs refusing to obey your desperate need to run. A wobbly step back sent you tumbling to the ground, a loud shriek escaping your lungs. 

Wolf, as if stepped out of the fairy tales your grandma told you before sleep. You had never seen one before but there was no doubt, your grandma had always been a vivid teller of stories. 

Eyes wide open you stared at the majestic animal before you and waited. Waited for the end to come. 

“Don’t move,” a soft and strangely calm voice reached you as a small silhouette of a boy probably the same age as yourself suddenly stepped between you and the wolf. “It can feel your fear.”

“I’m scared,” you whispered, as tears started to stream down your face.

“I’m not,” he said simply.

The wolf snarled, shifting its weight as though preparing to pounce but the boy didn’t flinch. Instead, he crouched slightly, meeting the animal’s gaze head-on. A strange, low sound rumbled from his throat—a growl, so very similar to the one the wolf had made just a moment ago that you couldn't help but shudder.

The wolf’s ears twitched, and for a while they just stood there staring at each other. A soft whine escaped you from the burning feeling in your lungs as you realised you’d been holding your breath, and you felt wolf's gaze shifting between you and the boy as if considering his chances.

The boy leaned forward slightly, his thin frame taut like a drawn bowstring. The wolf snarled, its hackles raised, but there was a slight uncertainty in its posture now. The boy didn’t waver, his eyes locked with the creature as he bared his teeth.

The wolf hesitated, its tail giving a flick of irritation, and then with a final growl, it broke eye contact, lowered its head and started to step backward. Its movements were slow, reluctant, as if it hated admitting defeat, but after a few steps it turned and with a few leaps disappeared into the shadows.

The boy straightened, his small chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, and for the first time, he turned to you, “It’s gone,” he said simply but you just continued to stare at him, your ability to speak stolen from you both by fear and awe plainly written on your face.

The boy was thin and malnourished, with bruises on his arms and legs, clothes hanging off his bony frame and the dirt smudged on his face, his bare foot rustling against the soft forest ground. 

He looked fragile, even breakable, but it wasn’t his disheveled appearance that struck you most, it was his eyes. One was a piercing blue, while the other earthy brown, shining with an inexplicable mixture of defiance and warmth.

“You shouldn’t wander this far into the woods alone,” he added, tilting his head and observing you with open curiosity, and you noticed how melodic and soft his voice actually was. “It’s not safe.”

It felt like a dream. He extended a hand to help you up, and you took it, your fingers trembling against his. His grip was surprisingly firm, grounding, and you couldn’t help stealing glances at him as he led you back to the path, your hand safely in his.

You both reached the edge of the forest in silence where he released your hand reluctantly, his fingers slipping away so slowly as though they didn’t want to let go. The boy's large, expressive eyes followed you as you stepped into the meadow, and it suddenly struck you that you had not the slightest idea who your mysterious saviour was. 

“What’s your name?” you asked, turning around and finally finding your voice even if it still sounded shaky.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting back toward the trees, as if unsure whether to answer or rather retreat. “Sihtric,” he said at last, his tone strangely wary, eyes darting to the ground. “Sihtric Kjartansson.”

“Will you come back tomorrow?” you asked.

His lips curled into a small, almost shy smile. “Maybe,” he finally said, but the faint glimmer in his mismatched gaze told you he would.

The next day, you returned with fresh bread and a small portion of ham tucked neatly into your linen shoulder bag. You weren’t sure if he would really come, but you hoped, and as you crossed the meadow, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, leaning casually against the trunk of the great oak.

“I brought you something,” you said as you stretched out your hand to offer the loaf of fresh bread. He hesitated, his gaze flicking between your face and the bread, his beautiful eyes mirroring a quiet surprise. It seemed as if he wasn’t used to kindness.

“You saved my life,” you added. “Please, let me thank you.”

Sihtric’s fingers slightly brushed against yours as he took the bread, and the brief contact sent a surprising rush of warmth to your cheeks, forcing you to look away, as you suddenly became aware of the heat rising in your face.

“Thank you,” he said at last as he held the loaf carefully, almost reverently, as though it was something precious. 

—---------------------------------------------------

You stopped, listening to a call of an owl echoing through the stillness of the night, before resuming your run. It was the signal and you were late.

“And I already thought you’d chickened out and wouldn’t come,” a familiar voice greeted you as you stumbled into the small clearing, a faint taunt lacing the words. 

“Mom stayed up late with her sewing,” you replied, breathless from your relentless sprint through the woods. “I couldn’t sneak out before she went to bed.”

A small figure emerged from the shadows of the nearby trees. Without hesitation you grabbed the hand outstretched towards you and let it guide you to the center of the clearing with a makeshift arch formed by a strip of turf propped up by three spears.

“Sihtric, where did you get these?” you asked, your eyes widening as you admired the haphazard construction.

“Everyone’s busy packing and fussing around,” Sihtric replied almost nonchalantly. “It was easy to grab a few things and sneak away. But I’ve got to bring them back before dawn, or I’ll get the shit beaten out of me.”

You shuddered, turning to look at the boy beside you. Sihtric’s voice was steady, but there was that subtle set of his jaw and the faint quiver in his grip.

“Stay,” you said. You wanted to sound confident, resolute but the way the word trembled on your lips, that sudden crack in your voice, it all betrayed your desperation. “Hide in the woods, and when they’ll be gone, come to my house. My father won’t turn you away if I ask him to take you in.”

But you already knew the answer.

“I can’t,” he said softly, his response almost a whisper. “I can’t leave my mom. She needs me. I have to take care of her.”

You squeezed his hand tighter, wishing there was something else you could do, something else you could say to make him change his mind. You knew there wasn’t. Your small world was falling apart, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you said, withdrawing your hand and reaching into the small linen bag slung over your shoulder. “I brought fresh bread. Mom baked it just yesterday.”

Sihtric smiled faintly, just a shadow of his usual mischievous grin, but his gaze returned to the arch.

“Let’s do it first, if you are still sure about it,” he tugged you gently toward the arch. 

You nodded, swallowing hard. You wanted to smile, but your lips trembled. “Of course I am. ” 

“Alright.” Sihtric let out a shaky breath, and crouched down to retrieve a small knife he’d hidden in the grass beneath the arch, its blade a bit dull but still usable.

Without any further hesitation he drew the blade lightly across his forearm. The cut was clean and straight, a thin red line beading quickly with blood. He hissed softly at the sting but held steady, extending his arm to you.

“Your turn.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you took the knife, not that you were afraid of the pain. It was the significance of the moment that made your heart hammer in your chest. Sihtric watched you carefully, something like concern flickering across his face.

“You don’t have to do it if you’re scared,” he said quietly.

“I’m not scared,” you scoffed at Sihtric, tightening your grip on the handle and pressing the blade to your forearm, but your hand slipped slightly, and the cut ended up uneven and jagged. You gasped at the sharp pain, your free hand instinctively reaching out to press against the cut.

“You alright?” Sihtric asked, alarm evident in his voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered, blinking back tears. “It’s fine. It’s just... shit, it’s so crooked.”

He gave you a small, encouraging smile. “Doesn’t matter. It still counts.”

Sihtric held out his arm, his bloodied cut facing yours. You looked up, trying to read the expression on his face before pressing your wounds together. Sihtric wrapped a strip of fabric around your joined arms, and you helped him to tie it tighter.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice firmer now. “Now we have to say it.”

You both spoke at the same time, voices barely above whispers but full of determination. 

“Our blood is one,

joined under the moon and stars.

Brother and sister for life and beyond.

Your pain is my pain; your joy – my joy.

Wherever life leads you, 

You will not walk your path alone.”

The world around suddenly felt still, as though even the forest was holding its breath because you both surely were. 

You looked down at your bound arms, a small but proud smile touching your lips.

“Remember the wolf?” you suddenly asked, breaking the quiet.

Sihtric glanced at you, a small, knowing smile brightening up his eyes. “I wasn’t scared,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Liar,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder. But deep down, you knew it was true.

He reached out to ruffle your hair with his free hand, and you couldn’t help but lough. “Come on, sister,” he said. “Let’s eat that bread before the night gets colder.”

—----------------------------------------------------

The door closed with a quiet thud behind you as you slumped your back against it, fighting to steady your frantic breathing, to silence the voice in your head, screaming that this wasn’t right, that it wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Raising your trembling hand, you let your fingers hover over your burning lips. Your very first kiss. Light like a feather, hot like a fire. You hadn’t planned this. You didn’t even fully understand how it had happened. 

It was just that strange feeling as Sihtric’s fingers had hesitated to let go of your hand just like that first time you had met, that haunting look of regret and sadness in his beautiful, mismatched eyes and the heaviness in your own chest. It all had been too much to bear for your small, fragile heart, so you just did it. The only thing you could think of. 

You rose onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

And then you ran. 

You ran as if your life depended on this, as if a hundred wild beasts were chasing you down, the touch of Sihtric’s soft but slightly chapped lips against yours burning in your mind. 

Your very first kiss. A good by. A farewell. A promise. 

You’ll not walk your path alone.

___________________________________________

You shifted carefully, stretching your numb legs one at a time. The night was cool but thanks gods – dry, a welcome change after an endless week of steady mizzling. That annoying faint drizzle was capable of seeping through every seam of your leather armour, soaking through all layers down to your undergarments and drenching it until there was not a single dry thread left. 

The Danish camp lay just beyond the treeline, its fires casting flickering shadows across the ground. You had been following them for weeks – them and other groups travelling from and to Dunholm. 

Your breath was slow and even. This was far from being new to you. Nights spent on the hard earth under the beautiful blanket of stars had long become your way of life. You didn’t complain, you had learned to endure, to let the numbness creep into your body without letting it dull your mind.

You shifted again, crouching closer, trying to get a better view on the fireplaces and to be able to catch glimpses of conversations. The underbrush rustled softly, and you froze, waiting for any sign that you’d been heard. Nothing. The camp remained busy but apparently oblivious of your presence.

Your fingers instinctively checked for the hilt of the dagger at your hip. All you wanted was to sneak through the bushes right into that nest of wasps, taking one life after another, quiet and deadly. But it was not yet the right time for that. 

You had dreamt of it for years. Of being here. Of finding your way into that damned fortress. Of wiping the name of the man that had taken everything from you from this world and any other worlds that possibly existed whether they called them Valhalla or Heaven. 

There hadn't been a single night that you haven’t woken up covered in sweat from the scattered images of the smoldering ruins of your home dancing before your closed eyes as clearly as the stars above you now. It was as if you could still smell the acrid stench of burned wood and flesh. 

Every fiber of your being longed to storm through Dunholm’s gates, to plunge your blade into Kjartan’s heart and to burn it all down to the ground as they had done to you. But you knew too well that this was not possible, that this would only lead to your own doom and not theirs. You had to wait and lurk in the dark, searching for a way that would ensure their ruin. You had waited years for this. You could wait a little longer. 

“Distracted, are we?” a soft voice murmured near your ear, calm and quiet as in the same moment you felt a cold steel pressing against your throat. Your body tensed up and your fingers slowly wrapped around the hilt of the dagger, readying for the strike. 

“Move, and you’ll lose your head,” the voice continued, the blade pressing just a fraction closer and a hand landed on your shoulder, keeping you in place.  

You cursed yourself silently, the threat was as calm as it was deadly.

“Drop your weapon,” he ordered.

You hesitated, your mind weighing the odds.

“Now,” he snapped, his tone sharpening.

“Fine,” you said, slowly pulling out the dagger and then you felt it – a shift in his grip, the tiniest slackening of pressure. It was all you needed.

You twisted sharply, pulling away from the blade while driving your elbow backward into his ribs. His grunt of surprise was satisfying, but you didn’t stop. Spinning on your heel, you unsheathed your dagger completely and brought it up between you.

The two of you stood frozen, knives pointed at each other’s throats. It was too dark to see the man clearly. The firelight from the camp didn’t reach your hideaway, and the moon was new, just a small slice in the dark sky, casting only fleeting, shifting shadows over his face. 

All you could tell was that he was young, well built and lean, unmistakably a Dane and a warrior. You were pretty sure he didn’t belong to the camp you were spying on as you  knew by now all the men there – an observation that did nothing to calm you as he still could be an enemy. 

His grip on his own blade was steady and his breathing even. If he was surprised by your sudden move, he didn’t show it, and there was a sharpness in his gaze that kept you on edge.

“Who are you?” He was the first to break the silence.

You tightened your grip on your dagger: “That depends on what your intentions are.”

“That depends on what you’re doing here,” he shot back, and for a split second you thought there was something strangely familiar in his slightly mocking tone.

You hesitated, your mind racing for some plausible reply as there was no way of revealing your true purpose. “I’m just passing through,” you said finally, knowing that the simple answer will not satisfy, but you needed some time to decide on your next move.

“Passing through?” the young warrior snorted. “Near a Danish camp, armed, and skulking in the shadows? Whom are you trying to fool?”

“And what about you?” you countered, trying to mask your nerves with defiance. “What are you doing here?”

But before you could continue the exciting conversation a distant shout shattered the stillness.

“Someone’s out there!”

Your breath hitched. The sound of boots hurriedly stumping against the ground grew louder, accompanied by the glint of torchlight weaving through the trees. The young Dane glanced toward the noise and then back to you as if weighing his options.

“They’re coming,” he muttered, pulling his blade back. “We can’t be found here.”

You hesitated, your instincts screaming to keep your guard up but the sound of the approaching Danes left little choice, and you carefully lowered your own weapon.

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. “But if you try anything—”

“Save the threats,” he snapped, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed your wrist, and before you could protest, he was leading you through the dense forest. You stumbled after him, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter with every step. He moved like a shadow, his pace quick but deliberate, his grip firm enough to keep you close without hurting you.

When you finally stopped, your chest was heaving, and your lungs burned from the frantic run. It seemed that you had shaken off the pursuers at least for now. 

“Now,” he breathed, trying to catch his breath, “who are you really? And why were you watching the camp?”

He didn’t seem like a raider nor one from Kjartan’s men but he was clearly dangerous, and trusting him was a risk you couldn’t afford to take.

“I’m no one,” you said softly. “Just someone trying to survive. I’m no threat to you. You were not keen to be discovered by the Danes in the camp, nor am I. Let’s just part in peace.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Survivors don’t spy on camps full of Danes. And they certainly don’t carry daggers like yours.”

You glared at him, your fingers itching to draw the weapon again. “And what about you? You’re not exactly a farmer out for a midnight stroll.”

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Fair enough,” he said, crossing his arms. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.”

“Then maybe we should leave it at that,” you said with a sly smile.

He tilted his head, studying you in the dim light. “For now,” he said slowly. “But don’t think I trust you.”

“Likewise,” you shot back, even as a small part of you couldn’t ignore the strange pull you felt toward him. There was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet intensity in his voice, that spoke to you, that reminded you of something, making shivers run down your spine but before you could give it another thought a distant shout broke the moment.

“We need to keep moving,” he said, his tone all serious again. “They won’t stop searching until they’re sure the woods are clear.”

You nodded reluctantly as the distant shouts grew louder and suddenly the torchlight started weaving through the trees like restless fireflies. Both of you tensed, instinctively drawing your blades and exchanging a sharp glance. An unspoken agreement passed between you: survival first, questions later.

Then the Danes burst through the trees.

“Over here!” one of them roared, his axe glinting in the firelight, and more followed.

The man beside you—lean, quick, and deadly—moved before you could think. His blade flashed in the dim light, cutting down the first attacker. You followed, blocking a strike aimed at your side and countering with a swift slash to your opponent’s arm. The Dane howled in pain, but there was no time to celebrate your small victory as another man charged at you, forcing you to dodge and roll, barely escaping his axe as it came down.

You fought together as if you had had years of practice behind. You couldn’t help but admire the way the young warrior moved, his movements fluid and practiced, filled with wild ferocity. The two of you were a perfect balance as if this were a dance where each movement needs to be attuned to the other, seamlessly covering each other as the Danes closed in.

But there were too many of them.

A sharp blow caught you off guard, knocking the dagger from your hand and making you stumble. You groaned in pain as a Dane’s boot sank into your stomach, sending you sprawling to the ground. Before you could recover a blade was pressed against your neck.

“Drop your weapon!” the man yelled, jerking you to your feet and wrenching your arm behind your back. 

 “Drop your weapon, or she dies,” the Dane repeated, his eyes narrowing at your companion.

You snorted loudly, the sound sharp and defiant, despite the blade pressed against your throat. “You think that’s a threat?” you spat. “He doesn’t even know me.” 

You looked over to the young warrior, frozen for a moment, his knife and axe still in his hands, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Something flickered across his face – annoyance, or was it concern as he turned, his eyes fixed on you for a brief moment before shifting to the man holding you. 

You could clearly see the hesitation in the young warrior, his jaw tightening, his movements deliberately slow as he scanned the Danes around all ready to resume the fight. And then he did something you hadn’t expected. He raised his hands slowly, letting the weapons fall from his fingers.

“I surrender,” he said with a steady voice. “Let her go.”

The words hit you almost like a blow. Why would he do this? He could have fought his way out and fled. You were a complete stranger to him. 

The Danes exchanged glances and one of them stepped forward, pointing his axe at the stranger. “You’ll come with us, both of you.”

Before either of you could respond, rough hands shoved you forward, the blade leaving your neck but replaced by the iron grip of two men dragging you away. Your companion was similarly manhandled and brought to walk next to you.

You risked a hidden glance at the young warrior beside you, as you still couldn’t grasp why he had done this. What was his plan?

“What are you doing?” you hissed under your breath, unable to keep the confusion out of your voice.

“Saving your neck,” he replied quietly, meeting your surprised gaze for a brief moment.

And that was when you saw them – his eyes. The light from the torches caught him just enough for you to see the young man’s face clearly for the very first time of your hectic encounter. But you didn’t pay attention to anything else apart from the eyes. They were of different colour. One blue, one hazel brown. 

Your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t possible. It simply couldn’t be. 

You turned away as quickly as you could, stumbling over a tree root. The grip on your arm twisted behind your back painfully tightened but you almost didn’t notice it, your mind too busy trying to reconcile the image before you with another one. 

The mismatched gaze of a boy you had trusted, the boy who had stood beside you beneath a makeshift arch, who had held your hand as your blood mingled. The son of the man who had destroyed everything – your life, your family, your dreams. Your entire world, reduced to ash and bitter memories, and he had been part of it, whether by blood or by silence. 

You shook your head in a silent dialogue with yourself, your pulse pounding in your ears. It can’t be him, you told yourself. It isn’t him. But even as you repeated the thought, a part of you still whispered that it might be. And if it was, you didn’t know whether to feel relief, rage, or something else entirely.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The coarse rope bit into your wrists with each futile struggle trying to loosen it. You sat with your back pressed firmly against the rough bark of the tree. The Danes had done a thorough job, binding the two of you on opposite sides of the same tree so tight to make even the smallest movement uncomfortable. 

Your companion on the other side of the tree, if one could call him that, had been absolutely silent all this time. Being a bit uncooperative when it came to letting himself be tied, he had earned several heavy blows to his abdomen and a split lip.

You shifted slightly, testing again the ropes that bound you both, and hissed as the fibers just dug deeper into your skin. It all just made no sense. It just couldn’t be him. The Kjartan’s men, you’d been spying on, were out to kill him and had tied him up without hesitation. They hadn’t recognized him as one of their own, as Kjartan’s blood.

You bit your lip, trying to coax both your body and mind to relax. 

—----------------------------------------------------

Sihtric leaned his head back against the tree. The sharp ache that radiated from his ribs almost made him groan. The blows he’d taken were nothing new; the pain being a constant companion in his life had long ceased to bother him. But this - being tied up, unable to move freel - this clawed at something deep inside him, making his skin crawl.

He clenched his fists against the rope, hoping that the sharp pain in his wrists would stop his mind from wandering back to the dark days under Kjartan’s roof, where being bound wasn’t just punishment but a lesson in submission, a lesson in unworthiness of his life to his own father. 

He had vowed to himself long ago never to let anyone have that power over him again. Yet here he was, beaten and bound like a dog because he had been foolish enough to be distracted.  

He cursed himself for his carelessness. He had seen the torches, heard the shouts, he knew the risk, he should have just left and run, yet he had lingered, drawn to you like a moth to flame. Why on earth had he decided to draw you with him?

There was something about the woman who now sat on the other side of the tree, that tugged at a part of him he didn’t understand. 

Sihtric closed his eyes, trying to force the thought away, but it lingered. With a loud scoff he hit his nape against the bark of the tree in frustration just to wince in the pain.  It had been stupid, yet he knew he would do exactly the same all over again.

He felt you shifting, straining against the ropes, testing their strength over and over again. It must be painful, he thought, yet you didn’t give up, you must have been scared.

“Hey, survivor, are you afraid?” he suddenly found himself asking, somewhat surprised by the hoarse sound of his own voice. “Spare your strength. You’ll need it. You’ll see, I’m getting us out of here.” 

The silence around the both of you stretched, broken only by the distant murmurs of the Danes, sitting at the fire. You just snorted at the stranger's question. 

Afraid? You couldn’t even remember the last time you were afraid. 

People are afraid if they have something to lose, something they care about. You had nothing. The last faint hope had left you as the rumors reached you that your brother Ragnar – the only one from your family who was not there on the night of fire – had suffered a shipwreck at the coasts of Ireland. 

You were alone in this world, you had nobody to care for, nothing to lose. You had nothing to live for apart from revenge and that was not a reason enough to fear death, to fear anything. 

“Why did you do it?” you finally asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence. “Why surrender yourself to spare me? You don’t even know me.”

Sihtric tilted his head, staring at the dark canopy above. Here it was. He had wanted to calm you, to reassure you, to give you something to hold on to and you came back with questions. Questions he had no real answer to. 

“Are you complaining that I saved your life?” he said, his voice almost hollow. 

There was a pause, and he could feel you shift against the ropes again. 

“No,” you whispered back. “I … I just don’t understand.”

Sihtric closed his eyes briefly, a sigh slipping past his lips. “Sometimes it’s just like that. It just… felt like the right thing to do.”

“You risked your life because it felt right?”

He let out a soft, humorless chuckle. “You make it sound foolish.”

“It is foolish,” you exclaimed, unable to hide the bewilderment in your voice.

“Then you owe your life to a fool,” he countered quietly. 

You opened your mouth to reply but found no words and before you could think of something more coherent to reply you were interrupted by the crunch of boots nearing the both of you.

“Get up,” the Dane barked, crouching down to slice through the ropes binding you to the tree. The sudden release sent a jolt through your stiff limbs, but you barely had a moment to process it before his hand clamped around your arm, dragging you to your feet. 

“Hey, where are you taking her?” Sihtric’s voice was sharp and there was an edge of worry beneath his tone, impossible to miss, as he struggled fiercely against his own bindings. His movements were desperate but ultimately futile, the ropes biting into his skin.

“Not your concern,” the Dane snapped, his grip on your arm tightening as he gave you a rough shove forward.

You stumbled, barely catching your balance, his bruising grip forcing you to move forward. The Dane dragged you toward one of the larger tents near the camp’s center, and your heart pounded against your ribs as you sensed your chance of escape nearing. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug into your palms, the sting of it forcing you to regain focus.

Behind you could hear the young warrior’s voice, louder this time, laced with barely restrained fury, but it only made your captor laugh - a low, cruel sound that twisted your stomach in disgust.

—----------------------------------------------------

The Dane’s body hit the fur laden ground with a soft thud. You crouched down as you listened, fingers wrapping tighter around the hilt of the dagger you had snatched from the sheath strapped to his back.

“Men,” you muttered under your breath. “Cocksure arselings.”

You froze ready to leap, the faint rustle of the tent flaps catching your attention as a figure burst into the tent. You were ready to strike just to stop at the last moment as you recognised it. 

“Shit,” you hissed. “I could have killed you.” But the wide-eyed completely dumbfounded expression on the young warrior's face caught you off guard and made you let out a soft laugh. 

You always preferred a fair battle over the stealthy death in the shadows, but this time you had no choice. The majority in the camp were too drunk to notice anything at first and when they did it was already too late. 

You met the young warrior at the fireplace, both slightly panting, the blood covered hands and the eerie silence around you the only signs of what had happened. 

“Are you hurt?” he finally asked, his large eyes flickering with the same resentment that churned in your stomach. 

“I’m fine,” you returned, only now noticing the raw and bloody red lines around his wrists where the ropes had dug into his skin, betraying his earlier struggle.

“You want me to clean them?” you asked, your tone more calm as the adrenaline of the moment ebbed away.

He blinked, seeming surprised by your offer, then nodded slowly. “If you can spare the time,” he murmured, his voice low, almost uncertain.

“Hey, you saved my life. Please, let me thank you,” you murmured, reaching into the pouch at your belt and pulling out a strip of cloth, a small flask of water and a tin of salve, and you didn’t even notice the warrior's eyes widening at your words.

“Sit,” you said, gesturing to clogs at the fireplace. He hesitated before lowering himself, casting a few more surprised glances at your side.

Gently, you poured water over his wrists, watching the dirt and blood wash away. He flinched at the sting, but said nothing, his eyes following your every move.

“You shouldn’t have struggled so hard,” you chided lightly, trying to focus on the task but being constantly distracted by the sight of his muscular arms highlighted by the sleeveless cut of his armour. 

He let out a quiet huff. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Didn’t expect you to be so quick to deal with him.”

You smirked, dipping your fingers into the small tin of salve and smoothing it gently over the raw, red marks on his wrists. “Guess you’ll think twice next time about underestimating me.”

As you reached to wrap a strip of cloth around his wrist, he pulled his hands back slightly. “It’s enough… thank you,” he murmured, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

You raised an eyebrow, noting the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Are you embarrassed to let me help you?”

“No,” he said quickly, though the way he avoided your eyes and rubbed the back of his neck betrayed him. “I just… it will hamper me if it comes to another fight.”

You took his hands firmly yet gently, pulling them back. “Hey, don’t be foolish. It will not disturb you more than those,” you nodded toward the thick golden arm rings on his upper arms. “But it will definitely hamper you if these get infected and swell. Hold still. ”

He sat stiffly, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder, clearly unsure where to look. “I’m not used to—” he started, then cut himself off.

“Not used to what?” you prompted, glancing up as you tied the bandage securely.

“Being… taken care of,” he admitted quietly. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” you smirked. “Even warriors need someone to patch them up sometimes.”

“You’re good at this,” he muttered a mixture of gratitude and shyness in his voice, and you smiled, catching the faintest trace of a blush appearing on his cheeks. 

You had no idea why you agreed when he suggested spending the rest of the night in the camp. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to leave it all behind  and never look back, but you just nodded and followed him to the bigger tent in the middle of the camp. 

“I’ll keep watch. Get some sleep, survivor,” he smirked, showing you toward the keep of furs.

A hundred times, you wanted to ask it, to ask for his name, and a hundred times you swallowed back the question burning on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to know and you didn’t. You didn’t know what to do with the truth. You had been angry for so many years, partially blaming Sihtric for what had happened, questioning why he hadn’t warned you, why he hadn’t come for you when everything fell apart. 

You had no idea what you would do if this young, strikingly handsome, strong and deadly warrior was indeed the same wide eyed boy you had kissed on the edge of a meadow, your blood brother, the oath breaker.

You hadn’t realised how tired you were until you settled down into the softness of the furs. You wanted to stay awake, to keep an eye on him but the uneven struggle ended far too quickly and your eyes fell close. 

Sihtric settled himself near the entrance, picking up the only task that made sense - sharpening his blades. Not that they really needed sharpening but he needed something to focus on – the repetitive rhythm of the movement, the sound of stone gliding over the blade, the simple feeling of purpose in what he was doing.

Not that it really helped this time as his attention kept straying, his eyes constantly drawn back to you.

He couldn’t explain it, that strange pull he felt toward you, that familiarity, that sense that he had known you for ages, that thrill and the way his heart had jumped in his chest when your fingers brushed against his skin.

You suddenly moaned in your sleep, your breathing turning shallow and uneven as you twitched and shifted. Sihtric stilled, his brow furrowing as he slowly set the blade aside.

He knew this all too well - the restlessness of the nights, the fear of closing his eyes, the helplessness of being dragged into the realm where will withdrew and dreams took over. And for all your courage, fierceness and confidence in waking life it seemed that in that realm you were hopelessly losing your battle. 

“Hey,” he whispered, slowly crouching closer and placing his hand on your shoulder. You stirred, but didn’t wake up. “You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

For a moment Sihtric just watched the shadows dancing on your face, hoping that you would calm down, but your breathing grew more ragged and another whimper rolled over your lips. 

He didn’t know whether it was a conscious decision or something else more primal, more instinctive as he carefully laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. 

You were ripped from your sleep by the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. You instinctively froze, willing your breath to even out and preparing yourself to reach for the blade.

“It’s just a dream,” the soft murmur of his voice caught you by surprise. “You’re safe now.” 

The moments passed on but nothing happened, he held you just like that, his muscular chest pressed against your back, his embrace steady, firm but at the same time so gentle and protective. You couldn’t even remember the last time someone had held you like that. Closing your eyes, you feigned sleep, somewhat ashamed for having expected the worse.

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling your body relax and your breathing calm down, but his hold didn’t loosen.

“You could be her…,” he whispered, his voice almost too faint to hear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you are her.”

You felt his frame tremble slightly and unable to pretend anymore, you shifted in his arms and turned to face him.

“I could be who?” you asked, holding your breath.

“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm,” Sihtric was quick to let you go, embarrassment flickering over his handsome face.

“It’s alright,” you whispered. “Please… just hold me again. Can you?”

“If you want me to…” he murmured and his strong arms wrapped around you once more as you hid your face in his broad chest. 

He nuzzled softly against your hair, his arms tightened slightly around you, as if clinging to some distant memory.

“I was just a boy when I met her,” he continued and you could clearly hear a faint quiver in his voice. “She saved me. She saved me in so many ways, it’s even hard to explain. The only person who looked at me like I was something worthy, who laughed with me, who shared bread with me.” 

Your heart almost stopped beating as you listened, your nose buried in Sihtric’s chest, fighting back tears.

“But I couldn’t save her. I was there but I couldn’t save her. My father found it amusing to let me watch. He probably knew I would try to warn her, so he took me with him just to tie me up and let me watch how he burned down her house.”

“You look so much like her. The way you move, the way you speak…” Sihtric’s voice trailed off but then he suddenly continued: “Tomorrow Dunholm will fall,” he said with such certainty in his voice that you raised your head to look into his mismatched eyes.

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

“I thought you’d want to know. I think you are here for the same purpose I am. The same purpose my lord Uhtred and his brother Ragnar are here for.”

You kept looking at him, unable to avert your gaze. 

“I’m not a complete fool. Even if you might think otherwise. There must be a reason you’ve been watching the Danes come and go around Dunholm. I’m guessing your reason is the same as ours - Kjartan.”

You wanted to speak, to ask more, but the lump in your throat made it impossible. Your whole world had just turned upside down. Uhtred and Ragnar were alive. It was impossible. Sihtric was here, there couldn't be any doubts about that anymore, holding you in his arms. That was even more impossible. 

This must be a dream, you thought, shifting closer to the muscular frame of your long lost friend, and if it was so, you certainly didn’t want to wake up from it, not now at least.

You waited and waited to be awakened from this strange dream, but the longer you waited the more you realized it wasn’t a dream. You felt Sihtric’s breath eventually evening out as his grip on you loosened and sleep finally claimed him, though his arms still rested around you. 

It was when the dawn finally broke that you slipped out of his grasp, careful not to wake him, and left the tent quietly.

Sihtric woke not long after, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. He had slept surprisingly peacefully but the drowsy smile on his lips faded the moment he realised the space beside him was deserted. He sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the tent for you, but it was empty.

—----------------------------------------------------

You adjusted the helmet you had taken from one of the dead Danes in the camp, your face carefully smeared with mud. Just in case. You didn’t want to be recognised, at least not yet, not before you had found out what was happening, before you knew that Sihtric’s words were not just some cruel game, as you still couldn’t make yourself believe they were true. 

It wasn’t hard to find Ragnar’s forces and slip between the warriors just a few moments before the assault started. 

Eyes wide open you watched the massive frame of your brother, leading the suicide attack on Dunholm’s gates. What was he doing? Had the whole world gone mad? Had the Norns chosen you to entertain themselves, letting you find your brother only to see him heading into certain death?

Your surprise grew even bigger when the impenetrable gates of Dunholm suddenly cracked open, leaving the fortress to the mercy of the attacking Danes. 

From that moment on nothing else existed apart from the deafening roar of war cries, the clang of weapons and the frenzy of battle. You fought like a demon, too immersed in the intoxicating feeling of being invincible, unstoppable, the harbinger of death and justice. You had never felt like this before.

You were reckless, drunk on the bloodlust and adrenaline, and it would have cost you your life if a pair of steady and strong arms hadn’t yanked you aside, burying an axe in the chest of a hulking, red faced Dane.

“Trying to survive, huh? Try harder!” Sihtric shouted, sinking his foot in the gut of another Dane about to swing his blade at you. 

It was all over far too quickly, your head spun and you had to steady yourself against a pillar as you watched Ragnar butchering Kjartan, as you saw Uhtred pulling him away from the mutilated corpse and Thyra emerging from the back of the yard.

And then among all the chaos there was Sihtric, standing in the front line and watching the death of his father, triumph and satisfaction in his face fading into disgust and resentment. 

—----------------------------------------------------

“Here you are,” you exclaimed as you found Sihtric sitting motionless on a hillock outside the fortress. 

He didn’t respond, didn’t turn your way, his eyes fixed somewhere ahead on a small pile of stones.

You hesitated. Maybe this wasn't the right time, maybe he needed space, and yet you couldn’t wait, you couldn’t leave him like this. 

“I was looking for you all over the place,” you said as you reached him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

Sihtric flinched at your touch, a faint shudder coursing through him, but he still didn’t turn to face you.

“You found me,” he said at last.

You lowered yourself beside him, your hand still on his shoulder. “Hey…” you began, but he didn’t let you continue.

“They’re all gone,” he murmured, as if speaking more to himself than to you. “Every single one of them. They’re all dead.” His voice cracked, and his fingers dug into the dirt beside him.

“I’ve had my revenge. And what? It didn’t bring them back. It didn’t make it easier.” He paused, his jaw tightening before he finally turned to face you. “There’s nothing left for me. No family, no purpose, nothing.”

“That’s not true,” you said, your trembling fingers squeezing his shoulder. 

“You don’t understand,” Sihtric interrupted you angrily. “I couldn’t save them. Not her, nor my mom. The only two people to ever care about me, and both ripped from this life by the man whose blood runs in my veins. And nothing I do - nothing - will ever bring them back.” Sihtric’s gaze shifted back to the pile of stones in the distance.

“Sihtric, please listen to me,” your voice quivered as you reached for his hand. He didn’t protest, didn’t pull away. He didn’t even seem to register that you’d called him by his name—something he hadn’t shared with you.

“I … I have to tell you something… I thought I’d lost everything too. My family, my home, even the sense of who I am…,” you swallowed hard, feeling the tears welling in the corners of your eyes but you didn’t fight them back, you let them flow freely, you didn’t even wipe them away. “But I was wrong. There’s always something to hold on to. There’s always someone.”

“Not for me,” Sihtric murmured, pulling his hand from yours.

“Sihtric, you did save her. You saved her so many times and you kept saving her without even knowing it. I let grief cloud my mind, cloud my judgement. I blamed you for what happened, blamed you for being Kjartan’s son, for not coming to warn me, for abandoning me, for breaking your oath. But the truth… The truth is, it was me. I was the oath breaker. In my grief and self righteousness, I never even thought to look for you. I never realised that you might have needed me. I’m sorry, Sihtric. I’m so, so sorry.”

Sihtric turned to you and the confusion and disbelief written plainly across his face made you laugh bitterly.

“By the gods, Sihtric… Do you really not recognise me?” Hot tears pouring down your cheeks, you rolled up your sleeve, stretching your arm toward Sihtric.  

Sihtric’s gaze dropped to your forearm. Carefully his hand reached for your arm and  his fingers brushed over the uneven, jagged scar, running along your skin, tracing it as if trying to prove it was real.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even look at you, his gaze fixed on your arm and as the silence stretched fear slowly crept under your skin, fear that he would be angry, that he would hate you for not revealing yourself sooner. 

Sihtric exhaled shakily, lowering his gaze to the ground, and your heart sank into your gut, expecting the worst, but then his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing them almost painfully.

“Wherever life leads you, 

You will not walk your path alone,” he whispered, raising your palm to his lips. 

You cupped his jaw, letting your thumb hesitantly hover over his lips, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes falling shut, the dampness on his cheeks telling you more than any words ever could.

"I knew it. Deep down I knew it," he whispered.

Sihtric’s arms hesitantly encircled your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace and you melted against his muscular torso. You both just sat there for what felt like a lifetime, in silence, savouring the moment and each other's presence. 

You were no kids anymore. Sihtric’s broad chest heaved in the rhythm of his breath and you pressed your ear tighter against him, listening to the beating of his heart.

It was against all odds but you both were alive and here and that was enough. You didn’t even dare to think about something else. You were content in this moment, and you wanted it to last forever.

“Do you remember that last dawn? In the meadow?” Sihtric’s voice brought you back to reality after what felt like a lifetime of silence.

You tilted your head to look up at him, and his mismatched eyes met yours.

“You can’t imagine how often I’ve thought about it,” he said, “wishing I had been braver.”

“Braver?” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever met, Sihtric.”

“But I wasn’t brave enough for this,” he smiled and with a soft exhale, he leaned in.

The kiss was hesitant at first, his lips brushing against yours in silent reverence, almost as if he were afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. But it got more demanding with each passing moment, melting away all hesitation, all doubts, all fears and leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other and in the salty taste of tears on your lips.

[luwritesstuff]

Hi! Could you possibly do something with Eddie Diaz? Maybe his Tia sets you up on a date 🙏🏽

this one was so cute and fun to write 🙊 let me know if you'd want a part 2!

Dating in the 21st Century

wc: 831

Pepa Diaz has been your mom’s client for years now. No one gave manicures like her and Pepa had ended up becoming her best friend in the process. You'd even met Pepa once or twice at the salon, and the occasional lunch your mom dragged you to.

It wasn't uncommon for your mom to try to set you up, it had become somewhat of a ritual of you gently letting guys down and reporting back to your mom on everything that had gone wrong on the date. So when she came to you to tell you about Pepa’s nephew, you couldn't hold back the sigh that escaped you.

“Mama, that's very sweet of Pepa, but I don't know if I have another blind date in me,” you called over your shoulder while you finished mopping the front of the salon. You didn't work there full time anymore, but you still helped out where you could.

Your mom tsk’ed you and pinched your side, “Don't be so pessimistic! I wouldn't tell you about him if I didn't think it was a good idea. Pepa showed me pictures, he's very pretty, mija,” she wiggled her eyebrows and managed to pull a small smile out of you, “Just one date, yeah? You can leave early if you hate it, but promise me you’ll try. His name is Eddie, you'll love him.”

You never really could say no to your mom, ultimately. You cursed her internally while doing the finishing touches to your makeup and adjusting your sundress. With any luck, you wouldn't have to go through this whole routine again anytime soon. Maybe your mom would give you a break after this one. After a final glance in the mirror, you threw your bag over your shoulder and left to meet your date at a small cafe you'd agreed on earlier in the week.

You arrived to find Eddie waiting by the entrance in a cream, long sleeved shirt and dark wash jeans. In an effort to keep an open mind like you'd promised your mom, you let yourself admire the way his shirt tightened around his biceps. So Pepa wasn't lying, he was attractive. “Hi, Eddie right?” You smiled and held a hand out to shake his.

After introducing yourself, you both ordered a latte and a pastry before finding a table on the patio to sit in the sun. Eddie was a perfect gentleman, he paid for your drink, held your chair out for you, made sure the sun wasn't in your eyes. You felt a sudden relief and let yourself relax into your seat. “Your Tia is your biggest fan, by the way. Her and my mom wouldn't let me rest until I agreed to meet the 'most amazing young man in LA’,” you teased, grinning at Eddie over the rim of your mug.

Eddie blushed easily and you filed that away for later. “She's all talk. She's just getting tired of me being single,” he laughed and leaned back in his chair, “you'd think her full time job was setting me up on dates.” You let out a dramatic groan, “You too? My mom bought me a subscription to a dating app for my birthday last year!”

This made Eddie let out a shocked laugh and you noticed the way his eyes crinkled and you were already thinking of ways to get him to laugh more. You took turns telling first date horror stories and making each other laugh. Eddie was good at that, you found. You hadn't laughed like that in ages, not in a way that wasn't forced or awkward. Eddie told you about his son, showed you pictures, and the way you took in each one made Eddie’s heart leap with possibilities. Maybe his Tia was right, maybe you'd be good for him.

“I just feel like there's so much pressure to date, you know? I have to act a certain way, say the right things, it's exhausting. I just want to be myself,” you sighed and Eddie felt more secure than he had in years. He agreed wholeheartedly and you felt comfort in knowing that you were with someone who wasn't interested in putting on an act or playing some stupid game.

After another few hours and more shared pastries, Eddie walked you to your car. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel the need to come up with some lame excuse and you found yourself wishing the day was longer. You didn't have to ask if Eddie felt the same way, he pressed a careful kiss to your cheek and squeezed your hands in both of his own. “Can I see you again?” he whispered and you nodded, returning the kiss to his cheek, “Please.”

Your mom and Pepa spent their next appointment gossiping over your date, and the two dates after. And they were totally not smug about it, only saying ‘I told you so’ a reasonable four times.