#// i dont need that. we dont need that au. that needs to stay in my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yameoto · 5 months ago

Text

SUPERNOVA CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

kpop idol caitlyn X her insatiably horny junior

"Noona is so cool!" You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. "Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Her talents are seriously wasted. Wah, her visuals are really otherworldly. Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants—" Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look, at that last one. “It doesn't say that.” You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

tw; dom/sub!caitlyn, brat!reader, idolverse, girlcock, semi-public sex, sex in dance practice rooms, mirror sex, handjobs, handjobs during vlives, voyeurism, mild age-gap, age hierarchy dynamics, use of korean honorifics. idol!caitlyn x idol!reader wc; 5.1k. ao3

notes: set in modern day runeterra. ionia encompasses the entire region of asia in league which i personally find stupid but i dont make the rules. fluff/smut/humour. derivative of korean culture (kpop idol au) + pokes a lil fun at stan culture. no prior kpop knowledge is needed (though it would likely help) the sex is filthy regardless. wrote this after finding caitlyn is only a 1/4 white like hallelujah jesus

CAITLYN looks stupidly good. Like stupid, stupidly good. Her grey sweatpants are slung low on her hips, waistband of her briefs peeking out. Sweat-slickened abs glare back at you, from the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The outline of her bulge is visible. These are all observations that you latch into like an IV-drip hooked-up to your wrist, in order to stay alive—lest you die from the fatigue. And boredom.

“Please,” You grumble, head slumped on your knee as your arm drops to the floor, phone abandoned Candy Crush side, up. “Please, please, please, can we go home?”

“No,” Caitlyn huffs, hands on her hips, looking entirely too good as she takes a momentary (and you mean, momentary) break to swig a sip of water, before she hurls herself right back into it, sweaty and stunning.

The two of you have been trapped in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. Or, more accurately, Caitlyn has trapped you in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. You would rather be snuggled up and content in the comfort of your dorms; rather than slogging away in the basement, like you’re still trainees clawing your way up the company ladder inch by inch—rather than the four-time daesang winners, face of Ionia’s girl-groups’, and other innumerable accolades under your belts that seemingly mean nothing to your fearless group leader. At least, at the moment.

You’ve long slunk to the floor, sleepy eyes tracing the way sweat rolls down Caitlyn’s nape as she re-runs the movements for about the zillionth time. Her shoulder-blades flex through the thin fabric of her shirt, sweat dampening into a darkened pool in a way that should be gross, but on her, it just looks sexy. The ache in your muscles has simmered to a low burn, by now. Jeez, your eyelids are slipping. Thank God you have your sweet leader to ogle. The sight of Caitlyn’s bulge peeking through those sweatpants is practically your sole motivator in keeping your eyes open.

“You know,” After what feels like a decade, you pipe up again, because time has begun to melds together. “You’ve got it. Seriously.” The swig of water that sluices down your throat is lukewarm and unsatisfactory. Fuck, you’re thirsty. “The stage is a week away. You’ll be fine.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow at you through the mirror, incredulous.

“When in the world has fine ever been good enough?”

Okay, sure. Caitlyn’s right. But she’s more than fine. Almost-perfect, actually—and come seven days—her dance moves will indubitably be heaven-sent and her ending fairy will probably trend #1 on three different social media platforms, and you will most definitely tug her ear endlessly about it, like the benevolent, supportive junior you are.

Seven days prior, however—and all you are is tired, grouchy, and maybe just a little bit horny.

“I crave the sanctity of my blankets.” You lament, hand falling over your forehead as you languish on the floor, because the sun has probably set by now and you are seriously contemplating the possibility of dying of old age in this godforsaken practice room. (Not that that would be so bad, if Caitlyn were with you).

“You can go home, you know,” Caitlyn sighs, twisting around to face you, sneakers squeaking on the glossy wooden floors.

“How am I supposed to sleep without my favourite member as a bolster?” You pout, snatching on the chance to act a brat, immediately. Caitlyn just rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch upwards, so negligible that if you weren't so tuned in to all-things-Caitlyn, you might’ve missed it.

“Clingy.” She mutters, like she doesn't love it. Loves being your favourite. Not that it matters, because the glimmer of hope that flickers in your chest when Caitlyn crouches down in the direction of her bag—is immediately quashed when she only taps her screen, and the speaker rewinds all the way to the start.

You’re really starting to hate this song.

“Are you serious? That’s not enough to rouse your cold, dead, heart?” You whine, because usually Caitlyn would've caved to your grabby-hands and doe-eyes by now (especially with the way you look; lips parted and shining with spit, water trickling down your chin down the column of your throat, from the leftover rivulets of your water-bottle.) Not that Caitlyn doesn't notice. She’s just really, really determined to get this right.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“You work yourself too hard.”

You stretch to a stand, elongated and cat-like before you slink over and sling yourself dramatically along Caitlyn’s back. Her expression contorts into exasperation. She attempts to turn her head, to face you—to no avail. Not when you’re pushing her up against the mirror and the pinning her down against glass with the power of aggressive spooning on your side. Her hand shoots out to brace against the mirror, as your fingers hook the hem of her sweats, and Caitlyn stiffens under your thumb, lips falling open against her will.

“Darling,” She inhales, in that addictive, throaty accent of hers. Caitlyn sounds almost pained, as she catches your wrists—though she neither takes them in or wrests them away. The both of you have full view of the rising tent in her groin.

“What?” You smirk, teeth grazing the shell of her ear, like the sneaky little bastard you are. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to practice with a boner, unnie. That must hurt.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitches, and her knees almost buckle, if it weren’t for the way your arms tighten around your waist and squeeze the growing problem at her crotch. Your fingers twine with the string of her trackpants, loosening them under slim, deft fingers.

“Honorifics? Really?” Her voice is tight. She’s screwed. You only ever whip those out when you want something, seeing as how you've been speaking informally to your technical senior since your very first meeting, in trainee days, (an accident she so loves to recount on variety shows. “It’s not my fault you just looked so young and pretty, unnie.” You’d fumble in defense, eyes wide and doling out the extra sparkle for the cameras as they zoomed-in on your frantic apologies, laugh track sure to be edited in. “What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re lucky I was too kind to scold you,” Caitlyn sighs, and—in a dramatic show of theatricality—flips the inky-blue curtains of her hair behind her shoulder, much to the hosts delight. “I can be really mean, baby.”

That had been a hit. Probably because of the way her drawl had lilted playfully and she’d cupped your jaw in the most egregious display of fan service you’d ever seen. Caitlyn’s always known how to wrap the media around her pretty fingers; and your stammer and ensuing blush had mercilessly crowded your feed for at least two weeks, afterwards.)

That’s in public, though. In private?

Caitlyn is a puddle to the graze of your fingers along her hipbone, and the glide of your breath up her neck. Dark eyes meet hers, hooded and intent, reflected in the pane of metal in front of you. It’s certainly a sight to behold. The two of you are both dripping in sweat, Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, bare-faced and glowing—hair tangled up in that loose ponytail that you've always found so much hotter on her, than any amount of hours in the styling chair could ever produce.

“I really need to..” Caitlyn’s protests sound weak even to her own ears. Especially when heat pools in hot, throbbing waves that rush straight to her dick, and she's cut off by her own gasp when you nuzzle in the nook between her shoulder-blades and your hands—beautiful, cunning hands—ghost over her crotch and squeeze. Her entire world lurches into a haze, body spasming upwards.

“Unnie,” You breathe, sweet and soft, like the devil in her ear, “please fuck me.”

Just like that, Caitlyn can’t take it any longer. A low, strangled noise rips from her throat, eyes fogging over and black eclipsing blue. Lithe hands coil around your wrists, and flips your positions entirely—thrusting you right up against the glass.

Her muscles are throbbing, hours of dance practice flaming up her bones; but she pins you down with the strength of a woman possessed, all the same. As far as Caitlyn’s concerned, she’s like a sleeper agent to your bedroom voice, and the fact could never shine with more clarity, than now (other than the time you’d done a Lola Shark impression in an interview and she’d gotten, to her horror, embarrassingly hard underneath the blanket thrown over her lap. She’d had to call in a bathroom break, to take care of it—much to your smug, haunting amusement).

In the mirror, you watch as Caitlyn’s breathing shallows into pants, tongue licking hot up the stretch of your neck to under your jaw. Neither of you miss the brief, smugly satisfied spark to your eyes and glowing hot between your thighs, even as both squeeze shut when you arch up against Caitlyn’s bulge. She grinds down against your ass, and you moan, so brazen she almost can’t believe it.

“Shit. You're so shameless,” Caitlyn mutters, breaths rushing harsh against your shoulder as she fumbles with the knot at your sweats, rutting hopelessly into the coil of your figure. The moment thread slips free, pants pooling to your ankles as you bend over, head thrown back—Caitlyn’s brand-name briefs soak with a splurge of pre so intense she almost thinks she’s come early.

“You want my fingers?” Caitlyn asks, just to be a bitch. Your eyes squint open to glare at her through blurry vision and through an even blurrier visage.

“Don’t joke,” You spit, voice hoarse with want. It's meant to sound demanding, but all it comes out is whiney, and Caitlyn’s laugh sends shivers down your nape.

There’s a millisecond in which your mind empties completely, and it's almost cruel how you can only see the reflection of Caitlyn’s cock curving upwards from her underwear rather than the real deal.

Caitlyn’s grasp is like steel around your neck. She thrusts you forwards, your flushed cheeks smushing against the cool surface of the mirror as your stuttered breaths puff in grey clouds of condensation. A groan wrangles itself out of your throat from being manhandled like that, knees wobbling the moment you feel something hot, thick and so, so wet press insistently against the backs of your thighs. Arousal has already begun to drip down your legs, running down in rivulets and moistening the floor under your feet. Yours or Caitlyn’s—you don’t have the eyes to know.

“Unnie,” You breathe, shakily, voice raw. Your fingers are slippery against glass, and you whimper when the familiar stretch of two fingers sinks into your cunt. You slide open, just like that, and Caitlyn temporarily wrenches you back so that you can see your fogged-up reflection in all its full, filthy glory.

“S’not enough,” You pant, back arching and ramming urgently against her digits she’s spreading you wide, with—so eye-wateringly slow. Maybe it’s the fact that you've been working yourself up, blatantly eyeing her down, for hours since your head checked out of training and your brain devolved into its most primitive urges in coping with your mind-numbing boredom.

“Not enough?” She grins, sharp-toothed and devastating, adoring the upper-hand. “What? You need a third finger, baby?” The noise that tears out of you is almost like a wounded animal, and you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so overcome with need and prolonging this teasing sounds like torture.

So, you answer with the obvious, “Your cock.” You hiss through gritted teeth, because Caitlyn loves it when you beg for her dick and you’re too hare-brained and empty to do anything more than push back, impossibly deeper into her fingers. They sink to her knuckles of entirely your own volition, without her having to do so much as twitch.

Caitlyn’s laugh is practically a goad in itself. The lush curtain of her lashes are lowered, irises swallowed up by the deep dilation of her pupils. Still, though, she takes her time in playing with you, just a little longer. Revels in the way you thrash around her fingers, fucking yourself back, desperate.

Herself is one thing. Her dick can only take so much, however. The ache becomes too much, too soon, and the second she runs her glossy head against the drenched, hot pulse of your hole—she can’t not shudder, knot in her throat, before her fingers slip out of your pussy and your consequent whimper is interrupted by the plunge of her cock.

“Hah, baby..” Caitlyn whimpers, eyes fluttering back as she fucks you against the mirror, nails dragging up your hips and digging into supple flesh. Never has Caitlyn felt so at home, submerged in the deep, velvet ocean of your cunt.

“Unnie—” You gasp. It’s the one word, echoing over and over, like an all-consuming siren song throughout your head—with each gasp that comes with every thrust of Caitlyn’s hips, motions growing sloppier as the exhaustion of hours of tireless exertion catches up to the both of you. She nips at your ear, then down the curve of your nape, to the unblemished skin of your upper back. Teeth grazing, pads of her fingers leaving scorching trails as she gropes up your body—your mind a jumbled, fuzzy mess. Her cock plunges in and out, still guided, though she never slips out more than mid-way; bodies sticking together like gum. Like she can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment—even if it is to pummel your cunt until you can hardly take it anymore.

It’s only when the pumps and rolls begin to slow into simple, gentle rocks, to absolutely nothing but a twitch—that your mind clumsily clasps onto a semblance of clarity, hasty and brief, like you know it’ll slip away and out of reach, soon. “Wha..?” You rasp, half-slurred, even if what you really want to whinge is; What’s goin’ on? Why’d you stop? And, please, please, please. Don’t stop. Keep goin’. Fill me up. Please, don’t ever stop— and other half-baked nonsense that you’ll be glad your tongue was too thick and heavy in your mouth to spill.

“I can’t mark you,” Caitlyn grunts, and your eyes sharpen, just a little. Her tongue peeks out from her lips as her expression looks disproportionately distraught, like it’ll be the end of the world if she doesn’t stake some sort of physical claim on you, eyes darting downwards to your unblemished shoulders with a low growl of frustration.

Distantly, that part of you is still clinging onto reality, knows she’s right. That your comeback is in a week’s time and risking a hickey or a bite-mark or worse (because Caitlyn is stronger and sharper and rougher than her delicate figure should ever have been allowed to be), is a bad, bad idea.

But the larger part of you—the part of you that is currently being railed by her unnie’s cock and trying desperately not to squirt cum all over the practice room mirror—rasps out a reckless, ragged, “Who cares?”, and that’s all the permission Caitlyn needs.

Caitlyn pulls out, and slams herself in again, grip on your waist, bruising. Your hands go sliding, uselessly against the steamy surface of the mirror, long fogged-up under the slick tangle of your bodies. She’s mouthing slurred nonsense into your ear, the music speaker knocked over by one of your ankles and emitting distant sounds from where it's rolled, to the other side of the room. Neither of you could give a single fuck.

Not the least, when Caitlyn’s hand is sliding up your throat and thumbing over your gaping lips. It feels as if a pink-hued fuzziness has descended the room and become a thick veil over everything, and when her fingers slip into the hot, wet gasp of your mouth—it's only right for you to take the digits in your tongue and suck.

“Ahnngh—Cait—”

“When did I say you could speak informally to me?” Caitlyn husks, fingers pressing deeper into the roof of your mouth. In your reflection, you can see the razor angle of Caitlyn’s jaw as she nuzzles into your ear. The obscene glisten of your spit, coating her fingers and coasting down your chin as her digits languish between your parted lips. You look every bit like her precious fuckdoll, right now.

“Unnie—”

“Ah-ah.”

“Sunbae.”

“Mm. That’s better.”

Her free hand skims up your shirt, slipping up the taut lines of your body and flicking idly at one nipple. You whine, garbled around the gag of her hand, and Caitlyn lets out a moan of content when your pussy tightens around her shaft.

“Fuck,” She pants, teeth sinking down into your shoulder and you buck, even though the pain barely registers with how Caitlyn barrels her cock in you, deeper, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your thighs are shaking. “M’gonna—hfgh—”

Her hips draw upwards, and Caitlyn cums like a faucet. All of it, inside you. Outside of you. Dripping from your still-leaking cunt and droplets getting fucked out with each, desperate thrust as she moans, guttural. “Take it—fuck—” Caitlyn groans, harsh and insistent as she pounds, your pussy squelching—so wonderfully wet—as your fingers scramble against the glass, her fingers cramming deep inside your mouth.

“Ah-ah—fuck!”

The two of you go crashing down, sliding down against the mirror and onto the floor with a twinning, indecipherable slew of obscenities, a boneless, panting heap, still moving in tandem.

You both slump, slippery and sticky. The song on the speakers re-starts, yet again, from the other side of the room, though it's the first time it's even pierced your ears in the past forty minutes. Caitlyn groans, pushing her nose into the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist. The mirror is splattered in both your cum.

“We’re gonna have to clean this up, aren’t we?”

“..Probably.” You sigh, still leaking around her cock as you angle your head, the two of you slotting together like missing puzzle pieces.

Twenty-four hours and countless Kleenex wipes later (and really, cleaning your own cum from floor-to-ceiling mirrors—with two half-guilty reflections staring right back at you—is an uniquely humbling experience); it was totally worth it to see Caitlyn appropriately red, after the crash of post-nut clarity.

It’s your one, blissfully empty day before comeback promotions launch you all into full-throttle. You intend to enjoy it while it lasts.

“Your latest Lotte CF went viral,” You pop behind her, totally innocously if weren’t for that familiar, impish glint in your eyes. Caitlyn sighs, not even glancing up from the stove, completely nonplussed. Probably because Caitlyn could record herself taking a piss and it would chart #1 on Melon.

“The seonjiguk is simmering.” She ignores you. You ignore her right back.

“Look at those dimples,” You beam like a little shit as you wave the video in her face. “Maybe you should go into acting. The GP would go crazy.”

“No thanks,” Caitlyn snorts, hand lifting upwards to stifle a brief yawn, sleeves coming up all the way to her knuckles. “been there, done that.”

“Oh, right. All your Piltovian film connections.” You hum, idly tracing the underneath of Caitlyn’s elbow as you lean over her shoulder to watch her cook. She’s markably improved from her humble beginnings of blackened, bubbling slag (what was once instant Buldak), or the scotchmarks that still hail the kitchen tiles, to this day.

“Mhm. I was almost poached. My mother wanted me to—what was that? Follow in her footsteps.”

“Well, I’m grateful that you didn't,” You hum, into her shoulder. You poke her side, grinning. “Then you wouldn't have met me, and wouldn't that be tragic?”

Caitlyn scoffs, but you feel her sink a little deeper into your embrace, eyes flitting to settle onto the top of your head, as you nudge into her. You both, really are grateful.

You’re pretty sure Ionia is grateful, too.

Whatever the day, it always feels like Caitlyn’s name has taken up a permanent residence in the nation’s newsites. ICE PRINCESS. AI VISUALS. ATTITUDE PROBLEM. Her quarter Piltovian and subsequent accent injects an ‘attractive exoticism’ (or whatever management had stapled to your files, at the dawn of debut), that had made Caitlyn internationally explosive, too.

The Kiramman surname certainly helped. Caitlyn’s debut was like, the biggest plot-twist in nepotism, ever. It was like if Nicole Kidman’s kid suddenly became Hatsune Miku. Not to mention the fact the Kirammans are the largest benefactor of Hextech, whose global rollout of leading-edge tech has gone unmatched. Of all careers for the Kiramman’s mysterious, devastatingly attractive daughter to take—this is the one that took the entire globe off-guard. Including the great and glamorous, Cassandra Kiramman.

Of course, the initial shock long lapsed underwater, with the constant roil of the media waves. Caitlyn’s fame, however, has not.

“Noona is so cool!” You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. “Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Ah, her talents are seriously wasted. Is she an angel? Her visuals are really otherworldly—”

“Get that away from me.” Caitlyn swats your phone away with a scowl, pretty pink flush glowing on her features.

“Don’t act all coy,” You prod her so-highly-lauded cheekbones as Caitlyn huffs in annoyance, though begrudgingly leans against the touch anyways. You squish. “We all know you’re preening inside.”

“I am not!”

“Ooh, sexy. I love it when your accent comes out like that.”

Caitlyn groans, because you’re impossible, and just twists so that she’s facing you, back against the kitchen counter. You reach behind her to switch off the stove.

She hooks her fingers into the hem of your pyjama shorts, thumbing over familiar cotton. She sighs outwardly, propping her head up on your shoulder and slumping forwards to rest the cold press of her nose into the crook of your shoulder. Her fingers skim up your shirt, absently rubbing circles into the plane of your stomach.

“You know I hate it when you read those.”

“About how you look like an eepy bunny when you’re sleepy? Or that you have moles in the shape of a giraffe on your nape.” You arch a brow, looking past her as you flick through the blurs of text in various degrees of capitalisation, on your phone. A subtle smirk lifts your lips. “Hey. Is that true? Let me check.”

She scowls, and then almost looks offended that you don’t know that already (You do. Caitlyn also has a darkened, heart-shaped birthmark indented in the crook of her inner thigh—but that’s just for you to know, thank you very much).

Your voice raises a pitch. “Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants!”

Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look. “It doesn't say that.”

You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

Oh, now Caitlyn’s cheeks go red. You push valiantly past the triumphant flutter in your heart, in favour of continuing your teasing. Hey—there’s no schedule today, the dorms are all to yourselves—and you’re on a roll.

“Look. They wanna steal your eyes and put them in a boba drink.”

Thoroughly fed-up with your antics, Caitlyn snatches the phone out of your hand, and you immediately squirm, to lunging for it. Caitlyn’s ridiculous height advantage has the one-up on you, though, and you puff out an aggrieved yelp of protest when she dangles it above your head, like a dickhead.

“Hey, what the fuck?” You complain, like your comeuppance wasn't exactly what you were hoping for. Except you were more aiming for a pin-you-against-the-fridge, fuck-the-insides-out-of-you type of comeuppance. Not a sordid reminder that you need a stool to reach the top of Caitlyn’s head. “Don’t lord your freakish Frankenstein genetics over me!”

Caitlyn laughs, eyes flickering down. “Are you on your tip-toes right now?”

Your eyes narrow, because you do not appreciate having the tables turned on you. Your hand shoots up to cup her jaw, tilting it upwards. Caitlyn softens, putty in your hands, adorable furrow in her brow melting away along with her pride as she sinks into your palm with a soft sigh, arm falling to her side.

There we go.

“It’s not my fault you avoid socials like the plague. I’m just doing my duty to take care of my leader’s PR. Your fans are starving.”

Caitlyn grumbles, “Well, let them starve.” though it comes out pinched between smushed lips, cheeks squishing like a dumpling. So heartless, like she’s not the industry’s princess and probably makes up a total of 50% of the company’s annual income. You know exactly why, as you cradle her face in her palms and watch as she leans upwards because no matter how disgruntled Caitlyn acts, or how shockingly humble she is under that front of aloof, arrogance–she definitely preens under attention.

Just. Only yours.

“Hey, you know what? We should go live right now.”

“What—?” Caitlyn stammers, flabbergasted by the sudden change in direction, “Don’t—“

Too late. Within seconds, you’ve swiped your phone back from her limp hands and flipped the vlive on. Recording. Like, now. Damn, you're speedy.

“Ah..” Caitlyn’s expression smooths over to that charming, impeccably gorgeous grin of hers that shows off the sharp curves of her cheekbones and has won her the hearts of a nation.

You pull her to the couch, and under the scrutiny of the camera—Caitlyn acquises with little more than a subtle elbow to your ribs, when the both of you go thudding into the cushions with a low oomph.

Then, you flop against her chest, and the stream of hearts that ensue are absolutely incredible, comments rolling in faster than you can read them. There’s a reason why the two of you are the most popular pairing in the group.

“Hm. Is it on?” You muse, faux confusion tugging on your pretty features. Knitted brows and a plush little pout always do the job, especially when you add a sneak of tongue. No doubt to be screenshotted and re-uploaded countless times, within the next hour. “Hello? Can you guys hear us?”

Which is, you know, the perfect time to grab Caitlyn’s dick through her pants.

A choked noise resounds beside you, and you don’t glance over, for you’re too busy fiddling with the phone and the settings and all other kinds of bullshit that is really just an excuse for you to focus your attention on snaking a hand down Caitlyn’s waistband, just out of view of the camera. “Oh! It’s working. Did you miss us?” You beam, as Caitlyn struggles not to either sock you in the stomach or throw her head back and moan.

If anybody notices Caitlyn’s pupils are suspiciously blown, it doesn’t come up. What does come up, is her ever traitorous cock that lilts immediately into your touch. Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

“Aw, little Caity’s missed me, too,” You croon, as your sneaky fucking fingers stroke idly along her girth, underneath the veil of her sweatpants and just over the thin fabric of her underwear. Caitlyn visibly bristles, because, 1. You’re jacking her off. 2. She hates that your coo instigates a flood of love-bombing so intense, that the hearts on the screen almost completely obscure the both of you. 3, and the most important one; you just gave her dick a nickname!

“Cait.” You tease out, eyes glittering, not even bothering to conceal your amusement as Caitlyn’s hips buck upwards, her fingers pinching against your sides, lips completely shut mum, for fear she’ll let slip a moan on camera. “C’mon. Say something. You missed them too, right?”

Gods. Caitlyn hates you. She really, really hates you. Just—not enough to not shove your hand away when it starts to peel away the waistband of her underwear. If only because the feeling of precum soaking its seat, sticking to her skin, and not because she’s itching for the sweet relief of your hand around her cock.

“..Hi,” Caitlyn forces her winning, boxy grin, and the years of practice make it an admirably unstrained effort. Maybe she really should go into acting. “Mm. Long time no see, hm?”

“Unnie’s being awkward, today.” You snark, all sly, and Caitlyn shoots you a glare. She’s rewarded by the sudden, fervent warmth of your hand wrapping around her dick, and then the harsh tug of your fist that has her knees jerking upwards and her dastard slit spurting out a shiny, hot glob of precum. She swallows back a low, strangled whine, like a dry pill. Oh, Gods. She’s supposed to say something.

“Ah, just..—we’ve—ah—”

In a rare show of mercy (because apparently, you’re not out to throw both your careers to the dogs), you swipe the phone back with the most cherubic, triumphant grin to adorn your face, literally ever. Catilyn lets slip a barely-audible hiss as your fingers coil, just a little tighter, stroking up and down—thumb running back over the swollen, gloatingly shiny cockhead.

“We just had a long time in the practice rooms for our comeback, yeah? So we’re pretty tired. Right, unnie?”

Oh, you're really pushing it, now.

“Mm. We’ve been—working. Really hard.” She has to lean out of the screen to release a silent, desperate gasp, nails digging into the back of the couch as she tries to rut up into your hand in a way that doesn't obviously send the sofa, trembling. You idly thumb over her slit, smearing the thick, embarrassingly copious amounts of pre down her length. It twitches in your palm, as you ramble on about schedules and the comeback and spoilers and other things that have long become white noise in Caitlyn’s ears. Her hips chase your touch, brazenly, now. She barely even realises when you’re calling it quits; early, too. Because obviously, this was all just to fuck with her.

“Caitlyn,” You sing-song—smirking (supremely unsubtly), at the camera. “Say bye-bye.”

She only just registers the comment. Barely. “Bye.” Caitlyn’s voice is a low croak, hips arching upwards off the couch just as you end the live. Just in time, too, because—

“Oh, fuck.” Caitlyn releases the longest moan of her life, cum spilling over your fist, and she collapses back into the couch. Your phone falls from your hand, and you’re practically shaking with laughter.

(“Little Caitey,” Caitlyn grumbles, after the fact, with your head nestled between her thighs in apology, “That’s preposterous. What’s so little about her?” Nothing. But there’s no fun in that, is there? At the slow, sly smile spreading on your face, Caitlyn groans. “What?”

“You referred to her in third-person.”

“..Please just suck me off already.”)

#(っ ‘o’)ﾉ⌒💥my works !#arcane #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn kiramman fanfiction #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn kiramman x you #trans!caitlyn #arcane x reader #arcane smut #written solely for me but if u enjoyed it. i adore you #surprisingly not the most self-indulgent thing i’ve penned but close #kpop!caitlyn

2K notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 5 months ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙dont call me kid | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her) (also some subtle lando norris x reader bc i cant help myself)

genre: social media au

warnings: angst!! sorry charles is the bad guy lol

summary: in which a very illicit affair finally gets out and you face the backlash

a/n: obsessed with this request ahhhh i need to write more angst!!!! also yea okay IM BACK IM BACK

request!!!: singer!reader and charles date but he kept it private so no one knew which is why they break up and like the fall out when ppl find out abt it online <3 maybe her healing and him regretting it? or like her moving on with someone else

my masterlist

fc: holly humberstone

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

f1gossip

liked by user3, user17, user44, and others

f1gossip charles leclerc seen out shopping today with girlfriend alexandra saint mleux

view all comments

user6 what hahaha

user7 so y/n must've been a while ago right??

user8 crickets from y/n

user9 they're so cute together y/n is deffo trying to split them up or something

user10 this whole situation is weird imo

user11 right like im confused and dont think y/n is the villain??

user12 be fr charles fumbled y/n.

user13 okay 😂

user14 sureeeee

user15 yuppp y/n defenders rise fr!!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, and others

charles_leclerc the good life ☀️

view all comments

user16 omgg charles & alex are so cute together

user17 omgg such gorgeous pics

user18 dont know who im more jealous of

carlossainz55 looking good 🏝️

charles_leclerc who, me or the beach?

carlossainz55 no comment

user19 charlos you will always be famous

user20 alex is the best wag <3

user21 ahh a leo leclerc cameo we love to see it

alexandrasaintmleux i love summers with you 🫶

charles_leclerc it is an honour to be in your company

user22 STOPPPP

user23 me whennn omg

user24 downgrade from y/n lol.

*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*

user25 justice for y/n much 🙄

*comment deleted by charles_leclerc*

user26 wait is he deleting comments about **

yourusername 📍 london

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and others

yourusername back home ❤️

tagged: yourbff

view all comments

yourbff love you

yourusername love you

user27 is this charles’ attention seeking fling 💀

user28 geez & she thought she could compete with alex

user29 ikr she's the wrong vibe fr

user30 emo vibes

user31 here u go here's ur clout 💀

user32 music sucks too

user33 lando in the likes? her nxt target bro

user34 bffr even he doesnt want her

user35 wtf is this comment section

user36 why so much hate???

*comments on this post have now been limited*

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

ynupdates

liked by user11, landonorris, yourbff, and others

ynupdates y/n spotted in a parking lot talking on a phone call this afternoon!! the first sighting of her in over three months ❤️

view all comments

user43 OH MY GOD FINALLY

user44 ew stay hidden

user45 girl get off a y/n fan page then 💀

user46 omg she looks happy or is it just me???

user47 i hope she's healing🥹🥹

user48 our girl is back omg

user49 A CAR PARK?! HAHAHA

user50 she real for dat

user51 y/n we miss you 😭

user52 COME BACK Y/N

user53 okay wait why is no one talking about lando norris in the likes

user54 this is so atrociously random.

user55 maybe he's a fan🥹

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, sabrinacarpenter, and others

user56 OH MY GOD

user57 FINALLY

user58 new music please im praying

user59 Y/N WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH

ynupdates omg finally. war is over

gracieabrams so effing glad ur back.

yourusername dont you know it

phoebebridgers thank god, my queen is back

yourusername for good!!

billieeilish im locked tf in

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc glad you're back y/n!

landonorris cant wait for the world to hear your voice

yourusername thank u lando 🥹🥹

landonorris of course. always thinking of you!

yourusername means so much xx

user60 im healed.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

yourusername you'll be flushed when you return ❤️ hi guys :) sorry that it's been a while... here's a lil peak into what i've been up to. my new song ‘illicit affairs’ is yours now.

view all comments

user61 oh my god

user62 WHAT STARTED IN BEAUTIFUL ROOMS ENDS IN MEETINGS IN PARKING LOTS???

user63 the way literally all the leaked pics of y/n with charles were in cars too...

user64 omg the song is so so heartbreaking... fym it dies & it dies & it dies ?!?!?

user65 OKAY BUT WHAT ABOUT THEY LIE AND THEY LIE AND THEY LIE

user66 A MIIIIILION LITTLE TIMES

user67 omg what did that man do to my girl

user68 such a beautifully heartbreaking song

user69 u showed me colours u know i cant see with anyone else:(

user70 u taught me a secret language i can't speak with anyone else:(

user71 okay but the lyrics look at this idiotic fool that u made me & for u i would ruin myself a million little times are so so heartbreaking like she fr got bullied off the internet over this secret relationship bro

user72 alex in the likes? lando in the last pic? is my girl winning in every category rn

user73 karma

landonorris such a beautiful song

yourusername tysm i rly appreciate u listening 🥹

landonorris 🧡

user74 now kiss

oscarpiastri amazing song y/n!

yourusername thanks osc <3

carlossainz55 as always such a lovely song. you're a rare talent y/n!

yourusername 🥹🫶

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by landonorris, user17, and others

f1wagupdates charles leclerc's wag alexandra saint mleux was seen last night leaving a restaurant alongside singer songwriter y/n y/l/n, who was recently connected to leclerc as having had a secret romantic fling together. what do you think is going on here?

view all comments

user75 oh my god

user76 WHAT???

user77 shit's about to get crazy 💀

user78 WHAT DID HE DO

user79 lando in the likes???

user80 y/n's biggest fan lol

user81 he's so real

user82 wtf are they talking about bro

user83 y/n stealing charles' new gf she's real

user84 im on board with this new friendship

user85 someone spill the tea RIGHT NOW im desperate oh my god

ynupdates

liked by lilyzneimer, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynupdates y/n seen out last night in PARIS with lando norris. don't know what to think. head = empty.

view all comments

user86 what

user87 what

user88 WHAT?

user89 why is half the grid and their wags in the likes

user90 hello?

user91 what's happening

user92 IM SO CONFUSED Y/N PLEASE SPEAK PLEASE

user93 they're just friends, right?

user94 😂 yeah.

user95 charles found dead

user96 girl i need answers im foaming at the mouth

ynupdates you and me both

user97 FREE USSSSS

user98 so much has happened the past few months but im just even more confused than ever

liked by yourusername

user99 WHY DID SHE LIKE THIS

user100 @.yourusername you lurker

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername look at this godforsaken mess that you made me 😊😊😊

view all comments

lilyzneimer 🧡

liked by yourusername

user101 HELLOOO??!?!!

mclaren good sweater choice!

landonorris i second this

oscarpiastri i third it

yourusername 😭😭

user102 what's going onnn

user103 new mclaren wag jus droppeddd

liked by landonorris

user104 i feel like this is confirmation that charles and alex are over.....

liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux

user105 THEM LIKINGGG

user106 not the comment section lurking i cant cope

alexandrasaintmleux most beautiful mess in the world

yourusername oh, you 🥹

user107 she's real for this....

user108 charles is crying i think

user109 SHE WONNNNN

user110 need answers but im happy she's happy

user111 we've learned patience 🙏

user112 fanbase growth 🧡

yourusername love u

user113 Y/N!!!?!:!:!:!:!/!:!/:£:&;£;

landonorris 🧡

yourusername 🧡🧡

landonorris 🧡🧡🧡

user114 SHUT UP LMAOOOOO

THE END ❤️🧡

1K notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 10 months ago

Text

Time Traveller au part 8

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 9 is here!

Everything around you warped as you jumped off the cliff. You closed your eyes as you heard Baldwin scream your name in agony, the air whipped around you and you hoped that you returned to your house, hopefully with a soft landing.

You fell onto the hard ground on your arm, breaking it. You screamed before biting your lip to hold it as you realised that you had landed... in a forest.

You pulled out your time machine and read the time and place.

1530. Ottoman empire.

Oh hell no-

You tried to change the time to return to your present world, but the dial buttons were broken and you couldnt do anything but hope it'll work again and return you back to your time.

Blinking away the tears, you clutched your arm and struggled to stand up, groaning in pain. The fall had knocked the air out of you, and made your entire body ache as you staggered towards a tree for support.

This has to be- Baldwin must've cursed me for leaving him.

Fixing your gown, you removed your wedding veil to make a hijab and used the length of it to cover your body like a chaddar. Clutching your broken arm, you began walking. Where? You dont know, but you need to get out of the forest first as you didnt pay much attention to "Man V/S Wild" because the first episode you watched started off with Bear Grylls drinking his own piss and you didnt think you'd ever be in a situation where you would need that kind of skills.

"And I wont." You huffed, walking. Besides, the wild isnt the only thing you need to survive. You're a lone woman in a forest where good samaritans arent the only ones to cross it. And you dont think you have a fighting chance against strangers with a broken limb.

The sun was starting set by the time you made it out of the forest and you saw a small cottage. If it wasnt for the old woman tending to her chickens outside, you wouldnt have approached her. But alas, thirst and exhaustion overtook stranger-danger and you walked upto her.

"W... water?" You croaked in Turkish, sweat dripping down your face as you clutched your arm. Yes, you learnt the language as a child when there was no cable and the only place you and your brother could watch TV was at your Turkish neighbours house. Granted, all they ever played was soap dramas, but hey- your family was poor and you had to make do.

The old lady's eyes widened at your state and she rushed inside to get water. By the time she came out with her husband, you had passed out.

When you came to, you were lying in bed while the couple fretted over you. It turned out that the old man used to be a physician, so he popped your broken arm back in place and immobilised it expertly so that it allows for optimal healing of the bone. The old lady made you some food and thats when they asked what happened.

"I fell from a tree." You took a bite of the warm meal. "I was hiding there from some slave owners. I lost my parents a few days ago and when they found out that I was alone... they wanted to take me and sell me to the palace." Lying isnt that hard for you when you have so many true events to back you up.

The old couple pitied you and offered you their home. "You could stay here for as long as you'd like. We dont mind. In fact, we'd enjoy the company." You smiled gratefully. As days passed, you began helping them around the house with chores. They were lonely and they enjoyed having you around. You found out that they used to have a daughter but she was one day taken by the Janissaries (members of the elite infantry units that formed the Ottoman Sultan's household troops) to make her part of the harem and they never got to see her again.

It had been a month since you'd been living here. Your machine hadnt worked again and you didnt have the tools at hand to start working on it. You did accompany the old man to the town when he'd go get groceries, but you didnt risk finding a scholar or craftman to help you. No, the moment your eyes landed on the Topkapi palace at the other side of town, you had turned on your heel and already started making your way back to the cottage. As tempting as it was to see just how the sultans were, you were not going to try your luck by being trapped in that castle that had weird politics. Everyone was everyone's enemy- the heirs, the wives, the concubines, the eunuchs- everyone.

You and the old man had just returned from the town and you were trying to calm him down. Apparently, he got into a heated argument with the shopkeeper who was quite influential and lent people money, but he asked for high interest rates on return.

"I'll help you. Maybe I can find some work-" you offered but the old man absolutely refused. He didnt want you to leaving the cottage, especially not alone to go work with these scummy people he did not trust.

You smiled sadly. Perhaps you reminded him of his daughter.

"He's always been like this, but when Ayla was taken, he started loathing the sultan. How can you just break a family like that?" The old lady said as she stirred the pot. You hummed as you set the table, when the old man suddenly burst through the door, looking alarmed.

"Dear? Whats wrong?" The old lady walked up to him. He was looking at you.

"Janissaries- they're here." He said with dread. "The merchant- he must've sent them here! Quick, hide Y/n!" The old lady nodded in agreement as they began pushing you. The old man lifted up a wooden panel from the floor, revealing a small compartment.

"Hide in there and dont make a sound!" They said as they covered the space back with the wooden panel. You held your breath as you peeked through the slits in between the panels.

Just a few moments later, 5 men in red uniforms and swords resting on their sides, brazenly walked in.

Janissaries.

"Where's the girl?" One of them asked as the others looked around.

"What girl?" The old man asked as he pulled his wife closer to him.

"Dont pretend you dont know. We saw you walking in the market with a girl. Where's she?"

"She left. Her parents took her back. What do you want from her?" The old man replied.

The Janissaries kept looking around, going through rooms to find you.

"You havent paid your loan back. We're just here to take her while you make arrangements for your loan."

"I told you she's gone. And I told the merchant I already paid off his loan. With interest."

"Yes, but the interest increased last week. You didnt pay that."

"What does it concern you? You work for the sultan, not the merchant!"

"The merchant is friends with me, a Janissarie. If he's bothered, then I'm bothered. And if I'm bothered, then so is the sultan. Now, hurry up and tell me where she is."

"She's gone-" the old man was cut off by a punch.

You gasped, but quickly covered your mouth as the Janissarie's head snapped in your direction. He couldnt see you, but you could see him.

The old lady was crying now as she tended to her husband on the ground. The Janissaire looked back at her.

"If you dont tell me where she is right now, you will become a widow." He threatened her.

The old lady couldnt say anything as she kept on crying, but she made the mistake of looking at the wooden panel you were hiding under. That was enough of for the armed men to figure out.

They pulled the panel away and there you were, looking up at them with fear. They didnt have to communicate as they pulled you out and threw you over his shoulder, making their way out to their horses.

The old couple begged them to not take you away, but despite your best efforts to break free, you never stood a chance.

"Let me go-" You were silenced with a hard slap. The Janissarie looked at you.

"I will only say this once. I am taking you to the palace. If you make a single sound, I will slit your throat right then and there. If you run, I will behave very badly with you. Nod if you understand."

Some time later, you had been dragged into the Topkapi Palace. The guards talked amongst themselves about you, as if you're deaf.

"We should just sell her to the slave traders." One said.

"Or we could give her to the merchant and he can pay us more than the slave traders." Another said.

"We'll see who will pay the higher price for her. After she spends the night with me." Your eyes almost popped out of your socket.

The creep laughed as he yanked you close by the wrist. "Maybe I'll keep you permanently, tied to my bed-"

Allah, now would be a great time for the time machine to work. I dont care if I disappear before their eyes, I cant stay here-

"Well well well, what do we have here?" The Janissaries all straightened up at the new voice. "Bothering another woman of the harem? After you were almost beheaded the last time you stared at one with your pig ugly eyes?"

"Baris Agha, she is not part of the harem-"

"She became property of the sultan the moment you brought her in the palace." The man snapped at them as he stepped in front of you. Judging from his clothes and his effeminate mannerisms, you figured he was a eunuch. "Lets take a look, hm?" He gripped your chin roughly and tilted your face from side to side, a grimace appearing on his face.

"Not pretty enough to be a concubine. Tch. Maid it is."

Bitch.

"Baris Agha, you cant just take her from us-"

"Need I remind you of the woman from the sultan's war winnings you lot lost because you were drunk? I see, I should go and remind sultan of that." At that, the Janissaries scowled but kept quiet.

"Now stop standing there like buffoons. Go to your posts. And you-" Baris Agha gave you a pointed look. "You dont look from around here, but I'm going to assume that since you havent screamed or tried to run off, you understand what I'm saying, hm?" You gave a nod. Baris Agha rolled his eyes before turning on his heel, beckoning you to follow him with his index finger. "Hurry along. We have to train you for the feast tonight. A few servants died of smallpox, so we're a little short staffed."

You were lead to a hamam (a common bath area). Baris Agha was talking to the old lady standing outside. "She is the new maid. Have her prepared for tonight, hm?" He told the lady who ushered you in.

Baris Agha waited outside the hamam as he heard you shriek and yell, but he was unfazed. Everytime a new girl is brought here, she has to go through the same thing. A hot ,steaming bath, an invasive medical check up, a little degradation, nothing out of the norm. It is necessary to do this because if you are to serve the royal family, it wont bode well for you to be carrying any diseases or... any pride.

"You're lucky I'm short on servants or else I would've thrown you into the sea because I would never wish anyone to see the gait of a cow." He scolded you during your "maid training".

You bit your lip to stop the curses from slipping. You cant risk pissing off anyone here until you can find a way out, or your machine works. You've read details about the life in Ottoman empire, and sure majority of them were muslims, but they still had egos as large as Mount Everest.

"Baris Agha! Baris Agha!' A servant came running upto him. "A fight broke out in the harem! The concubines- ah! Its a mess!" He flailed his hands around in exasperation.

Baris's eyes widened before scowling. "I'll kill them all today! I swear! These women are more trouble than they're worth for!" He grumbled before looking at you.

"Keep moping, I'll come back. Dont do anything stupid or I will make you dig your grave!" He threatened before leaving with the servant.

As soon as he was out of sight, you considered running. But you dont know your way around this maze of a palace, and you dont wish to run into Baris Agha when you're trying to find your way out of these hallways. You need to be careful and find a way out. So, you slowly made your way towards the other end of the corridor while mopping (as an excuse when Baris returns and asks where'd you go) and peeked around the corners. When you found no one, you slowly walked down one end of the hall where you saw a door at the end while the right side of the hall overlooked the palace grounds and the other side of the hall had no doors but had these wooden windows that were shut so you couldnt see through them. You reached the door and opened it slowly, expecting another hallway, but instead you were in a room. Not exactly a bedroom, since you didnt spot a bed, but perhaps a sitting room? Or maybe a study room, judging from the desk in the corner. In the center of the room, there was a huge pile covered by a purple silk cloth. This couldnt possibly be a storage room, right? You walked upto the pile and pulled the cloth off it, revealing an amalgam of... fine things. There were fancy vases, some antiques, swords and a few paintings.

The paintings were stacked one upon the other, and you took a look at the first one- it was Arabic calligraphy. The background was beige with the calligraphy in beautiful black ink. And you recognised the words written. Its Ayat ul Kursi, from Surah Baqrah in Quran. The words were written so elegantly, however as you read the verse, you spotted an error. It was a minor one, but there was a dot missing from one of the letters and now it would be misspelled and the words wont make sense.

You could just walk away. You should walk away. Find a way out. This is not your mess. And this should not bother you.

"If you see something wrong, then you should do everything in your abilities to correct it. Don't be selfish, Y/n." Your brother's voice rung in your ears.

With a sigh, you walked towards the desk and picked up the the quill pen dipped in ink.

I'm only doing this because this painting may one day be passed onto the future generations. Cant have them making the same mistakes. You walked back to the painting. This is the word of Allah. I cant just ignore the mistake.

You placed the 3 foot canvas on the desk and carefully placed the dot to correct the mistake. You held your breath the entire time to prevent your hand from shaking. When you were done, you breathed and backed away.

"What are you doing?" You froze. This- this is not Baris Agha's voice. No, it- it held too much authority.

"I asked you- what are you doing?!" The voice boomed.

"I- I-"

"Turn around." You slowly did and you looked at the man in dark robes in front of you. He was neither a servant, nor a Janissaries. You looked at the fury in his grey eyes, and then your eyes travelled upto his head.

You dropped into a bow, head low.

"I- I apologise, sultan!" Of fucking course! Why wouldnt a sultan- THE SULTAN SULEIMAN, be the one to catch you in the act.

This is it. This is the day I die. He will have my head cut off-

"I asked you, what are you doing?" He asked again. "Who are you?"

"I- I was... I was fixing an error, your majesty." You gulped, head still down. "I am- I am a new servant, sultan. I- I did not know this was your room- I was- I got lost-"

"What mistake?" He cut you off. "Rise. And show me the mistake."

You slowly rose up, though you kept your eyes casted down. You turned back to the painting as he walked up next to you, and you raised your shaking hand to point the area where the ink was still wet.

"The... the dot was missing from this letter. It was spelling mistake. I... I couldnt just leave it... in good conscience." You explained in a small voice.

There was complete silence for the next few minutes. Is this the part where you should start begging him to spare your life? Or should you keep your mouth shut and hope he gives you a less painful punishment?

"Bring the next painting." He commanded without taking his eyes off the current one. You picked up the next canvas and it also had Arabic calligraphy. With his permission, you placed it on the desk as well.

"Well?" He looked at you and you stared back at his grey eyes in confusion. "Check for errors."

You looked back at the painting, another Quranic verse from Surah Rahman. And you spotted the error right away. Again a small mistake, but still if the diacritical marks are not present, then the pronunciation will be wrong.

"Here. And here as well." You pointed out with your finger. He nodded at you to fix it. This time it was much harder for you to stop your hand from shaking, but fortunately, you did.

"Now recite it." You looked at him in surprise. Recite it? You cant stop your hand from shaking with him looking at you and he expects you to recite it out loud in front of him?!

What kind of test is this? And if I mess up, will he have me killed? Oh God, he's going to kill me.

Closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling, you began to recite Surah Rahman.

Just pretend he's not here, pretend your brother is in front of you and you're reciting Quran to him like you did as kids. Its normal, its just you and Qasim. You and your brother.

You opened your eyes when you were finished. Suleiman was looking at you... shocked.

"That was... my goodness. That was mesmerising." The sultan praised you once he overcame his shock. "And you recited it all from memory. Are you a hafidha?" (someone who has memorised the Quran)

You nodded. The sultan looked even more surprise. He's never heard of women memorising the Quran in his lifetime, and you? You look so young, just in your 20s. Did you really learn the Quran with such perfect recitation?

"How? Who was your teacher?"

"My brother." Which was true. Qasim, your older brother memorised the Quran when he was very young. Your parents sent him to the local mosque to learn and since he was blessed with eidetic memory, things werent hard for him.

You, on the other hand, were not blessed with photographic memory. You werent gifted like Qasim, and since he's always been the shining star, the all rounder, he was your competitor by nature. So while your parents didnt send you to the local mosque to memorise Quran because you're "too young", you made Qasim teach it to you.

He was more than happy to. Qasim, just like his name, was always the "generous one". The one who shares. He's the older brother, the provider. You're the younger sister, the competitive brat. Together, you two made a great duo. Qasim's recitation was far better than yours. His voice brought comfort to the soul.

Once you were able to memorise Quran, you and Qasim would often participate in those Islamic trivia and competitions which would often have some cash prize at the end. And since money was tight at home, you'd both participate and win many such prizes.

"And where's your brother?" "Dead. My family is dead." Well its not like he can go and confirm your story. "I was brought here by the Janisarries. They planned to sell me to slave traders. Then Baris Agha came and made me a servant, saying I belong to the sultan now. He gave me a mop and I was cleaning and then I found my way here..." You explained your situation further, hoping he'd take pity and let you go.

"What's your name?" The sultan asked very calmly.

"... Y/n."

"Y/n." He tested the name. "How would you like a job?"

"I- I'm not a good servant, ask Baris Agha. He'll testify-"

"Not as a maid. As a... teacher."

"Teacher?"

"Mhm. Quran teacher. Teach my daughter Mihirmah how to recite, if not memorise it as well as you, hm?"

"I-" you paused. You need to word this out carefully. "I'm honoured that you considered me for this position, your majesty, but surely, there might be someone else more suitable for this job."

He shook his head. "They're all men. I think if my daughter could have you as a role model, she might be inspired to learn."

"I... I have to go home-"

"Home? To who? You have no family." Of course, your lie backfires.

Seeing your hesitance, he sighs. "Look, you're not a slave here, Y/n. No Muslim in my empire is, so I wont force you to stay here but I think it would be safer for you. A young girl in her prime, living alone in this harsh world- you know just as well of the dangers. Today my Janissaries brought you here, and I will deal with them. But tomorrow, someone else might take advantage of the fact that you have no one to rely on."

You remained silent. He was... right. But-

"If you were to stay here and be Mihirmah's teacher, then I give you my word- no harm shall befall you. You will be under my protection."

Your time machine hasnt shown any signs of working yet, and you dont think you can stay hidden in this empire and avoid people for long, so-

"I accept."

Suleiman smiled. "Good. I think the ink is dry now. Place them back with the pile." You picked up the canvases and brought them back to his collection. As you were placing them down, you noticed the canvas on the bottom, the one you never picked up.

Your face paled.

"Sultana, please focus-" you were trying to get the young princess's attention, which you now realise was a feat in itself and exactly why Sultan Suleiman asked you to teach her.

"No." Mihirmah said. You took a deep breath. She has no interest in reading the Quran, how are you supposed to make her learn a few verses?

She was the Sultan's only daughter, so she was spoiled to the core. Just 19 years old, with high cheek bones, blemish free skin, her ash brown hair that shone, she was the epitome of beauty and the apple of her father's eye. You'd just love to yank her by the hair or smack her with a ruler to make her focus but you also would like to get out of here alive.

"You shouldn't use violence when it comes to Islam. It'll only drive the believers away." You heard Qasim's voice in the back of your head. "I never had to discipline you with hand to make you memorise. If I can teach you, then so can you." He had a warm smile on his face.

But I'm not you, Qasim. I dont have the patience of a saint.

"Alright, sultana." You closed the Quran with a sigh and clasped your hands. "What do you want to do?"

Mihirmah grinned, feeling victorious over you giving up so quickly. "I want you to tell my father that I gave my best in trying to learn this but you dont have the time or skill to teach me. Tell him that you think it might be best for me to take break from learning Quran so that I can regain my focus." She said as she crossed her arms over chest.

"No."

Her smile faltered. "No?"

"No." You confirmed, staring at her dead serious. "I do have the time and skill to teach you the Quran. Why should I lie about myself for your incompetency?"

Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" You asked, collecting your things. "I am not your slave or servant to order around. Your father, the sultan, hired me for a job. I'm the teacher, you're the student and at this moment, I have authority over you."

You stood up and looked down at her with no expression. "I was told the young princess was fearless and as strong as her brothers. I now see they were wrong. If you dont wish to learn, then have the guts to tell your father."

As you turned around to leave, you were immediately thrown against the wall, making you bang your head against it. Enough. You're done playing nice.

Sorry Qasim, but some people need violence-

You were turned around and slammed against the wall. You were about to yell at her when you felt something sharp press against your throat.

Mihirmah's eyes were full of fury. "You do not get to talk to me that way-!" "Is that an Omani khanjar?" You looked at her silver dagger.

Mihirmah's rage was replaced by surprise. "You... you know about it?"

You scoffed, insulted. "I'd be a fool not to notice it."

She titled her head at you, an amusing glint in her eyes.

"Oh my- you even have the pugio! How did you get it?" You were in complete awe at Mihirmah's large collection of daggers and swords.

Mihirmah beamed. "My brother got it for me on his recent conquest. He got so much stuff in the war prize for dad, but they let me pick first. Mustafa had brought dad some antiques, gems, paintings-" your heart sank at her words.

So that painting... it was from the spoils of war?

The painting that you saw earlier when you were putting back the canvases- it was a portrait. Of you. The same portrait that Baldwin had commissioned for you. The painting that survived over 400 years, except for the lower part of your face that was smudged and faded.

Suleiman looked over your shoulder as you stared at the portrait. "Mustafa found this in a church during the war. The locals claimed that the portrait belonged to some king who lost the love of his life. Hm. Seems like he missed her too much." He explained, tracing his fingers over the smudged area of the painting, and you wondered what Baldwin had done to make the area so faded.

You were glad that you had drawn your chaddar over your head and kept your face down or else you're almost certain the sultan would've recognised the resemblance between you and the portrait. After you'd left him, you immediately decided to wear a niqaab and cover your face to prevent anyone from recognising you as the muse from the painting.

"Y/n." You were snapped out of your thoughts. Mihirmah raised a brow at you. "So... how do you know about the daggers? You dont look like... well, you know."

Should you even be surprised at how condescending she is? Mihirmah may be the sultan's only daughter, but you were also the only daughter AND the youngest child of your family.

You can be just as bitchy.

"What? Just because I'm not a princess, I cant know about daggers?" You scoffed, looking back at her collection on the table.

Mihirmah's lips quirked. "Well, how do you know then?"

My cousin took me to the forensic musuem at his medical college and I was so mesmerised by all the murder weapons there, including the daggers, that I spent an embarrassing amount of time researching about each type of blade which was interesting for me because I am a historian.

"My dad was a blacksmith." He was not. Your father was a pharmacist. "I used to watch him make different types of blades and swords. Travellers would often stop by and let him sharpen their blades, and thats how I know about different kinds of blades."

She nodded, satisfied with your explanation. "You know your blades... but do you know how to fight with them?"

"No, sultana. I am just a lowly peasant who does not have to face the troubles of warding off potential suitors and princes like you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

When she didnt reply, you looked up at her and saw the evil glint in her eyes.

"What?"

Her smile widened. "I have a proposal that would benefit the both of us."

You stared at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding what she meant.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No-"

You were flipped onto the carpeted ground with Mihirma pinning your arms with her knees, pressing the dagger against your neck.

"Anddddd you're dead." She smiled victoriously above you before getting off you and helping you up. You coughed to catch your breath and scowled at her. "I should tell the sultan about how you beat up your teacher."

Mihirmah chuckled. "I am not beating you up. I am teaching you how to fight, and dad would approve that I teach a young women how to defend herself." "But I dont want to learn how to fight." "And I dont want to learn Quran. But if I have to do that, then you can at least do this so that you know just how difficult it is for me to learn the verses."

You adjusted your veil and glared at her. "Cant you find someone else to be your sparring buddy?"

"No. I like you. You dont seem to be too afraid of me and you stand your ground." She admitted before looking at you fussing over your niqaab. "You know you can take that off around me? People dont burst into my room without knocking, so feel free to take that off."

You contemplate for a moment. It is a little hot in here, and you're sweating like a pig after that knock down.

You remove your veil, but keep the scarf over your head and take a seat. You felt her eyes on you, but you didnt look at her as you opened the Quran.

"What are you staring at?"

Mihirmah sat down beside you as you finally looked at the gleam in her eyes. "What?" You asked again.

"Nothing. I just thought you'd be... prettier."

You couldn't help the sound of disbelief that left from your lips.

This cun-

"Well, I'm so sorry sultana that you had to witness the ugliness of my face with your precious eyes that are only worthy of seeing pretty things. My sultana, just say the word and I'd sew pearls into my skin for your pleasure, or I could always just-" you pick up your veil to cover your face again, but Mihirmah's hand caught your wrist and she was giggling.

"You're easy to tick off." She chuckled. "I was only kidding. You look... alright."

You feigned a smile. "Well, how will I ever repay that priceless compliment?" You rolled your eyes as she laughed again.

"Now that we're done with your entertainment, lets start our lesson for today."

Its been a week since you arrived in Topkapi palace. You had been given a room in the harem with the concubines because- well they didnt have quarters for religion teachers, so here you were.

The room was small but adequate for you. Nothing fancy but you're grateful for that. Dont want these concubines seeing you as a threat or something.

You groaned as the servant kneaded your shoulders. You were currently getting a massage from a girl you had befriended. Your muscles were sore from the all the times Mihirmah had flipped you over or slammed you against the wall. You were sure you were gonna have numerous bruises by the time she memorised one surah.

Your deep tissue massage was interrupted by Baris Agha bursting through your door. He shot you a glare before pushing the girl away from you.

"If your majesty is done with her rub down, would you care to grace us with your mighty presence?" He mocked. You opened your eyes and sighed.

"Hello to you too, Baris Agha." You sat up. "What do you want?"

"The sultana has demanded your presence."

"I already gave the sultana her lesson today." You mumbled before going to lie back down but Baris Agha grabbed your shoulder painfully to haul you up.

"That was Mihirmah sultana. Your presence is required by her mother, Hurrem sultana!" He gritted out.

Hurrem sultana? "Why?" You asked, fixing your niqaab over your face.

"Why? Why? Who do you think you're to be asking questions? Make haste!" He yelled at you before pushing you out of the room.

You followed behind him as he told you how to courtesy in front of her and not to do this or that, but you were focused on why you'd been called by the sultana? And that too, at dinner time? Wouldnt she be busy with her family?

Finally, you reached her chambers. Baris Agha entered first and you followed closely behind him, falling into a deep courtesy right after him.

"My Sultana, this is Hatun (lady) Y/n, Mihirmah's sultana's teacher." Baris Agha introduced you.

"Rise." You heard her say and you dared to peek at her and your breath was caught.

If Mihirmah was the epitome of beauty, then Hurrem sultana was something entirely out of this world. Red hair that sat in a intricate bun atop with a crown, milky white skin that had no marks, and those radiant green eyes that shone just as bright as the iconic emerald ring on her finger.

If you didnt know the dates, you wouldnt have guessed her to be a day over 40. But she was well in her 50s, and Allah... were you envious of Turkish beauty.

Truly, this was not a place for an insecure person to be around. You probably did stick out like a sore thumb among the bewitching beauties.

Baris Agha elbowed you to make you avert your gaze, and thats when you spotted Mihirmah sitting beside her looking sheepish.

"So, you've been the one who Mihirmah has been spending so much time with?" She looked at you pointedly.

So much time?

You looked at Mihirmah who was avoiding your gaze. You looked back at the sultana. "Well? Tell me how much my daughter has learned?"

How much? She hasnt been able to memorise a single surah.

You cleared your throat and spoke carefully. "Sultana, its a gradual process-"

"Surely, she must've memorised something? After all, thats why she's been refusing to spend time embroidering or looking at her proposals."

"Mom-" Mihirmah tried but was silenced by a look from her mother.

Hurrem looked back at you. "So, Hatun Y/n, do you have something to say? Or has my daughter been lying to me about spending time with you?"

You looked at Mihirmah who was looking at you with pleading eyes and you connected the dots. Mihirmah has lied to her mother about spending her time with you, and now wants you to lie for her as well.

If you do, Mihirmah might be safe but you risk getting caught. If you dont lie, Mihirmah gets in trouble, but so will you. And not just at Mihirmah's hands, because she will hurt you for snitching, but you suspect that she will twist more lies and lead you into more trouble with both her mother and father.

What to do?

"Mihirmah sultana is... a good student. The best one I've had so far." Well, you werent lying. She was your first student so technically she had no competition. "Everyone has a different pace of learning, my sultana. But its not about how fast you learn, its how much you learn. I'd prefer to take years to learn the surahs over not understanding the meaning behind them, the lessons hidden in them."

Yes, this is a safe answer. "Mihirmah sultana has shown great interest in reading the Quran. She listens very attentively to the translations." After bribing her with duels.

"I have no doubt that she will one day be a good Quran student. As long as she never stops reading it, maintains her connection with the Holy Book and Allah. The process of learning never ends."

Hurrem's calculated eyes read you. She gave a single nod. "Very well, Hatun Y/n. If you say so." Ah finally. Disaster avoided, and now Mihirmah owes me for lying-

"Mihirmah, you will recite the surah Hatun Y/n taught you tomorrow at dinner. Your father and I will be very pleased with your progress." Hurrem stated, making both your and Mihirmah's eyes widen because her mother knows her daughter well. She knows Mihirmah is not prepared and challenged her like this so that she can get rid of you as well, allowing the queen to focus on finding a suitable proposal for her daughter.

"Mother-"

"Mihirmah, go and sleep now. I dont think you need to prepare anymore for tomorrow, as you have told me just how great of teacher Hatun Y/n is." Hurrem smiled cunningly. Of course, she'd lay traps for her own daughter if it meant she could prove a point.

You and Mihirmah left the sultana's chambers together before walking to the princess's chambers.

"Thank you, Y/n for saving me!" Mihirmah said as soon as you two entered her room. She turned around to look at you, only to find you out on her balcony.

"Y/n? What are you doing there?" She walked up behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. "Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking if I should jump to my death from here or ask Baris Agha to get me poison. What do you suggest?"

"Y/n!" She pulled you away from the balcony. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Whats wrong with you?!" You yanked your arm out of her grip. "Why did you lie to Hurrem sultana that you've been spending day and night studying with me when you damn well know that you have the attention span of a fish?!"

Mihirmah pouted. "Well, I had to come up with an excuse as to why I didnt want to do needle work or look at suitors... how was I supposed to know she'd bring you in for questioning?"

Narrowing your eyes at her, you gritted out. "You should've just told her that you'd rather spend the time beating up servants and throwing knives at pillows for target practise!"

She crossed her arms and huffed. "What, are you mad at me?"

You chuckled humourlessly. "Oh no. No no- how dare I? Why would I be mad at you for being the reason your parents will send me to the gallows? Or would they rather chop off my head?"

She shook her head. "No, I wont.... I wont let them do that." Mihirmah sighed. "I'll tell them the truth tomorrow, come clean."

"Oh great. So then you'll be safe from trouble but I'll still be dead because I LIED to the sultana! Thanks a lot!" You exclaimed.

"Well, then what do you suggest we do?!" Mihirmah was getting short tempered now.

You dragged your hands over your cheeks before heaving a sigh. "The only thing we can do. Make you memorise a surah." You held up a hand before Mihirmah could speak. "I'm not kidding. And... I have a plan. Just... you'll need to stay awake the entire night."

"Mihirmah- Mihirmah, wake up." You nudge the sleeping princess, awake. Its been 7 hours into your all nighter and Mihirmah's been asleep for 2 of them. You heard her groan from her position, head resting on the table.

"Mihirmah!" You called her harshly, shaking her shoulder. She smacked your hand away and continued to rest.

Thats it, I'm going to yank your hair-

The door opened making you turn. A young man was standing there, his eyes landing on Mihirmah and then at you.

"Mihirmah?" He called her name gently, but the girl who you'd been expecting to be dead asleep suddenly jumped up at his voice.

"Mehmed?!" Her eyes sparkled before getting up and jumping into his arms, just as you turned your head away and picked up your veil to wear.

Sehzade (prince) Mehmed, second son of Sultan Suleiman, first son of Hurrem. The 24 year old prince hugged his sister and spun her around, the two siblings laughing. Though you already know of his fate- the prince will die young. He will not inherit the throne.

"When did you come back from Manisa?!" Mihirmah asked him.

He pecked her forehead. "Just now. I made my way straight here and I was expecting you to be asleep, but.... what exactly is it that you're doing?" Mehmed asked, and Mihirmah followed his gaze to you.

"Ah. This is Y/n, she's my Quran teacher. I have to memorise a surah and recite it at dinner." She explained.

He raised a brow. "Since when did you have such an interest? Let me guess- father?" She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Forget about that, tell me about your adventures! Come on-" You cleared your throat loudly, making both siblings look at you.

"What?" Mihirmah asked.

"Sultana, we still have to prepare for tonight." You said as gently as you could without popping a vessel in your head.

Mihirmah waved you off. "No need! I've already memorised the surah! I'm all prepared-"

"Sultana." You cut her off. "Memorising is one thing... reciting it properly is another. Your parents will be expecting perfection which-with all due respect, you are nowhere near it."

There was deafening silence in the room as you and Mihirmah stared each other down, neither woman backing away.

"Y/n, I said I'm done for tonight. That means, I. Am. Done." Mihirmah emphasised.

"I'm the teacher and I took responsibility over this matter in front of the Sultan and Sultana. I decide when you. Are. Done." You replied back in the same tone, hands folded in front of you.

I am not letting a spoiled brat ruin my life.

Mehmed looked at the two of you, confusion clouding his mind. Mihirmah doesnt let anyone talk to her this way and get away with it. Usually by now, you wouldve been thrown into the dungeons for torture. He knows his sister and her crazy tendencies, so he doesnt understand why she's putting up with this.

There is something deeper going on here.

"Both of you, stand down." You both broke off the intense stare off and looked at Mehmed. Clasping Mihirmah's hand, he pulled her to the ottomans and sat down beside her, gesturing you to sit down on the floor pillow.

"Now, tell me what is going on?"

After explaining the mess Mihirmah had dragged you two in, Mehmed hummed.

"Mihirmah." He looked at his sister. "It doesnt matter if Y/n told the truth or the lie to mom, she'd be in trouble either way. But there is only one way you wont be in trouble, and that is to pass this test. Prove mom wrong. You can do it- hey, look at me." He cupped Mihirmah's cheeks. "I know you can do it. And to show you my support, I will stay by your side the entire time. Now, lets practice, hm?"

You and Mehmed left Mihirmah's room at 8 in the morning, letting her to catch some shut eye.

You mutely yawned under your niqaab, though your back wasnt as silent when you cracked it. You heard Mehmed chuckle behind you, and you quickly composed yourself.

"My sister wore you out, huh?" He had a tired smile on his lips, eyes drooping but still a glint of amusement.

"Of course not, sehzade." You noticed the small cut on the outer end of his left brow. He had ash brown hair, similar to Mihirmah's. If you didnt know better, you'd think the two were twins with how much they resembled. Thick lips, strong nose, high cheek bones.

"You shouldn't lie to a prince, you know?" He rubbed his eyes. "Mihirmah... she is a little-" Annoying? Bitchy? Selfish? "-headstrong, but she's always been this way. Dont take it to heart. She is a good person, you just need to be patient with her."

You stayed quiet as he spoke. What could you really say? Ah no, your sister is actually just a spoiled brat and needs a kicking down?

"Mihirmah likes you, Y/n. It is a lot to ask but... I would appreciate it if you would continue to have her back."

"As you wish, sehzade."

Mehmet gave you one last smile before leaving. "Get some sleep, Y/n."

You turned around and started making your way back towards the harem to your chambers, your mind occupied by the thoughts of the painting Baldwin had made.

I need to destroy it. You decided. If it has survived 400 years, it might survive another 400, and I dont want to take the risk of it appearing in a museum one day.

You're walking down the hall, trying to remember which room it was you had found the paintings in when suddenly you're yanked to a corner.

"hey-!"You're silenced by a hand covering your mouth. A woman was holding you.

"Shh. Its fine. I just want to talk." She pulled her hand away, making you take a huge gulp of air. "What? You cant say hello like a normal person?" You spat at her. She narrowed her eyes at you. "Watch your tone. I'm Gul, the sultana's lady-in-waiting." Or just personal servant. You thought. Wait, sultana?

"Hurrem sultana-" "No, Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of Sultan Suleiman and the one you should always obey and respect. Now come along, she wishes to talk to you." She began pulling you down the corridor.

"Talk to me about what?" She didnt answer you.

Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of the sultan who eventually fells out of his favour when Hurrem arrives. She was able to give birth to one son- sehzade Mustafa, the eldest heir of the sultan, who will also not inherit the throne and will be executed on the orders of his father.

You can only guess how protective Mahidevran would be of both her son and the throne, seeing as she only has one child compared to Hurrem sultana's five, four of which are male heirs. And she has every reason to be threatened too because Hurrem has done what has never been done before.

Hurrem sultana was a non muslim woman captured from Crimea, sold as a slave in Constantinople, became a concubine in the harem and slowly rose to the ranks to be Suleiman's favourite, and later, become his legal wife. She bore majority of his sons, and broke the traditional rule of. "one imperial concubine - one son", was beaten up by Mahidevran which angered Suleiman, earned the title of Haseki Sultana (which means "favourite") and it shocked everyone because never before was a slave elevated to the level of becoming the legal wife of the sultan.

Hurrem sultana was force to be reckoned with. And as history shows, Hurrem would be the victorious one.

Finally reaching the sultana's chambers, you were pushed in by Gul. You immeadiately fell into a courtesy, not wanting to anger the sultana.

"So... who exactly are you?" You looked up, brows knitting in confusion at her question. Mahidevran was sitting on her ottoman, her face expressionless as she stared you down. She was beautiful, her features sharp and slim, collar bones prominent along with her long neck, she looked like a supermodel. But... Hurrem was prettier.

"I- I'm Y/n." You answered her, but she didnt look satisfied. "What is your relation with Hurrem? Are you sleeping with her son, Mehmed?"

"I- I beg your pardon?" You stammered. She stood up and strode to you, making you back up.

"Do not lie to me, girl. My servants saw you entering Hurrem's chambers yesterday, and leaving with Mehmed today."

"Its not what it looks like, sultana." You shook your head. "I am not a concubine and I am not sleeping with anyone! Sultan Suleiman hired me to teach Mihirmah sultana Quran."

"That doesnt explain why you were with Hurrem or Mehmed."

"Hurrem sultana wanted to know how far her daughter has progressed in her lessons and asked Mihirmah to recite a surah at dinner to prove that she's been studying. Sehzade Mehmed and I were with Mihirmah sultana all night helping her prepare for tonight." You explained the situation and Mahidevran stared at you with no expression. For a moment, you thought she didnt believe you but then her lips quirked up.

"Dinner, you say?" You gave a hesitant nod. "Very well, off you go."

As soon as you were out of the room, you leaned against the wall and placed a hand over your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart. Mahidevran may not be as pretty as Hurrem, but she was definitely scarier. You really did think she was going to torture you.

Weakly, you began walking again. You want to go back to your room and sleep off the headache that was forming, but you still have the stupid portrait to destroy.

Where the hell was that stupid room?

After an hour or so of roaming around and avoiding Baris Agha because you dont have it in you to put up with insults, you finally found the room. You softly knocked on the door first, checking if the sultan or someone else was in the room. When no one answered, you slowly opened the door and looked around. No one was there.

You walked inside and spotted the pile still there, and when you removed the silk off it, everything was still there- untouched, including your portrait.

"What are you doing?"

Second time. You've been caught in here for the second time.

Baldwin has to have cast a curse on you. There is no other explanation for such badluck.

You turned around, praying it was Baris Agha or anyone else, just not the sultan.

As soon as you spotted the royal turban, you could hear Baldwin laughing in the back of your head.

You bowed. "Sehazade- I-"

He looked older than Mehmed, so your best guess was that this was Mustafa.

"I asked, what you were doing with my war loot?" So, it is Mustafa. Mihirmah did say he went on a conquest recently.

"I was-" you cleared your throat. "I was merely admiring the calligraphy."

He tilted his head to look behind you. "There's no calligraphy on the portrait."

"I was admiring... the portrait."

"Were you planning on stealing it?"

"What? No." You peered at him through your niqaab. "It would not be the brightest idea to steal a large canvas and walk through the palace that is littered with guards."

He hummed. "You could go out the window."

"And ruin the painting or risk breaking my legs?"

"Huh. So what do you think would be the best way to steal this painting?" What kind of trick question is this?

"Not that I am stealing it, but if I were to- I'd most likely remove it from the canvas and roll it up, tuck it under my dress or hide it somewhere else and then leave with it. Or maybe pass it to another person, to make myself less suspicious."

"For someone who claims they're not stealing it, that does sound like you put a lot of thought in it." Mustafa admitted.

You frowned. "I was just pointing out the obvious. As I said, I am not a thief!"

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Y/n, Mihirmah sultana's Quran teacher-" He chuckled. "Sure, that's believable."

"Its true."

"You expect me to believe Mihirmah, my little sister who would much rather spend her days skinning someone, is learning Quran?" He smiled, making dimples appear on his cheeks.

"Its not by choice. Sultan Suleiman hired me." He stopped smiling.

"The Sultan... hired you?" Mustafa asked. What- why would his father hire you? You're just a young girl, almost the same age as Mihirmah.

"You can ask him if you dont believe me." You were tired of being insulted. What, does he think you're not smart enough to teach someone? Or just plain ole ugly?

"I-"

"Y/n! Ugh! There you are!" Baris Agha voice cut through, and as soon as he spotted Mustafa, he bowed, but you saw the momentary glance of confusion of why you were with him.

"Sehzade." Baris greeted him. Mustafa acknowledged him with a single nod. "Please excuse me, but I must take Hatun Y/n. Mihirmah sultana has demanded her presence."

Mustafa nodded again, letting Baris Agha drag you out by the arm. He looked at you trying to free your arm from his painful grip while Baris chewed your ear out. Mustafa shook his head before turning around to look at the portrait you were "admiring".

It is... something.

By dinner time, your head was pounding to the point you thought someone was hammering a nail in your head. Instead of spending the rest of the day catching some sleep, Mihirmah had demanded you help her dress "modestly" for her Quran recitation tonight. She wanted a look that really captured her "angelic and spirutal" personality.

You were sure your eyes were blood shot, from the lack of sleep. You didnt eat anything since yesterday, because you were almost constantly with royalty and God forbid you ate with them. No, they're "superior" and you dont deserve to eat or take care of yourself unless they allow you to.

"How do I look?" Mihirmah asked you. You were standing outside the royal dining room, where she would first go and have dinner with her family before showing what she's learnt so far.

"Like you just returned from Hajj pilgrimage." You rolled your eyes. She shot you a glare. "You look fine, Mihirmah. Just... stay calm and remember what I've taught you. You got this." She nodded before entering the room where her family awaited her.

You leaned against the wall and sighed, about to close your eyes to take a power nap when Baris Agha nudged you.

"Wake up! Sultana and sehzade are here." He whispered harshly, just as you spotted Mahidevran and Mustafa walking down the hall. You and Baris bowed with the guards.

"Sultana. Sehzade." Baris greeted them sweetly. "The dining hall is currently occupied. Sultan Suleiman is having dinner with his family."

"And what are we, Baris?" Mahidevran snapped, making Baris's courteous smile falter. "I am his first wife, Mustafa- his first son. We have more right to be here than Hurrem and her kids."

"Sultana-" Baris tried to persuade her but she beat him to it by walking past and knocking on the door.

"Enter!" Suleiman called from inside. The servants opened the door, allowing Mahidevran and Mustafa inside.

They bowed to Suleiman. "I hope we're not interrupting, sultan. We just heard that our dear Mihirmah would be reading Quran today and I just couldnt stop myself from coming. I just want to witness our little Mihirmah becoming so connected with her religion, perhaps even inspire me." She smiled widely, placing a hand on Mustafa's back. "I brought her elder brother to show our support. May we join you, sultan?"

Suleiman stared at them before nodding. "Of course, Mahidevran. We're all family here."

Mahidevran couldnt help the smirk that formed on her lips as she saw the pissed off look on Hurrem's face and the alarmed one Mihirmah's. While Hurrem did hope to teach a lesson to her daughter to not lie to her, she wouldnt want to do it by embarrassing her in front of Mahidevran.

The doors closed and their dinner began. You leaned against the wall again to rest your eyes but of course, Baris Agha had to mutter incoherently about the whole situation.

"Allah! Allah! What are we going to do? This might as well be the start of another war inside! Hurrem sultana and Mahidevran sultana head-to-head again-" He elbowed you hard, making you yelp. "Did you tell Mahidevran to come here?! I swear, I will yank your tongue out and strangle you with it."

"Baris Agha, at this rate, I'll be the one to strangle you if you touch me one more time." You threatened, shoving him away roughly.

"You little-" The doors opened again, a servant walked out.

"Hatun Y/n. Sultan has summoned you."

You walked inside, courtesying to the royal family.

Suleiman had this gentle look in his eyes. "Ah. This is Y/n, the teacher I hired for Mihirmah." He introduced you to his family, unbeknownst to him they'd already met you. He looked at you. "I wanted you to be here as Mihirmah recited for us."

"I'm honoured, sultan." You said softly, eyes to the ground as Mihirmah stood up and walked to the center of the room.

Suleiman gave her a nod to start.

Mihirmah took a deep breath in, closed her eyes and started reciting.

إِنَّآ أَعْطَيْنَـٰكَ ٱلْكَوْثَرَ "

فَصَلِّ لِرَبِّكَ وَٱنْحَرْ

"إِنَّ شَانِئَكَ هُوَ ٱلْأَبْتَرُ

15 seconds. Thats all it took for Mihirmah to recite the shortest surah in the Quran, with almost perfect qirat. The surah that usually took 10 minutes for children to learn, took Mihirmah all night to memorise with near-perfect pronunciation. Sure, this was not what anyone was expecting, especially not Hurrem when she challenged you and Mihirmah, but the deal was to recite a surah from Quran, by memory. It just so happened to be the shortest one, the easiest one. You won fair and square.

"MashAllah, Mihirmah. That was beautiful. I am so proud of you." Suleiman beamed, his eyes shining with pride. Mihirmah grinned, running to kiss her father's cheeks.

"Yes, Mihirmah. That was... nice." Hurrem feigned a smile, just happy that she wasnt embarrassed in front of Mahidevran.

"Thank you, mom. I guess I just had a really good teacher." Mihirmah shot you a grateful look, making everyone in the room look at you. Your face flushed, and you were grateful for the niqaab to hide your face.

"Oh- um, you're just a keen learner, sultana." You said softly.

Mahidevran lips quirked up, and Hurrem saw the evil glint in her eyes. "Oh Mihirmah, you read so wonderfully. Your voice- ah! It just moved me. Please, Mihirmah- would you be kind enough to recite for me again? I'm sure your father would love to hear you as well."

Mihirmah's brows furrowed slightly. "I- of course, sultana." She closed her eyes and was about to recite the same surah again when Mahidevran's voice stopped her.

"Oh no, Mihirmah. I was hoping to hear something else."

Mihirmah's face fell. "But this is what I've memorised-"

"That's quiet alright, sweetie. You can always read it from the Quran. This isnt a test!" She chuckled. "I'm sure your teacher has taught you the basics! Here, I even brought the Quran with me." She handed Mihirmah the Holy book.

So this is how she planned to embarrass Mihirmah. She knew the young girl was neither interested nor good at learning Quran, so now when Mihirmah would stammer upon her words, then Suleiman and Hurrem will be ashamed that their Muslim daughter, at the age of 19, cannot even recite properly. Hopefully, this might even cause the couple to fight and Mihirmah to fall from the graces of her father's eyes.

Nervously, Mihirmah slowly opened the book, turning to the first page. She cleared her throat, as it'd help.

It didnt.

Mihirmah stammered and stumbled over her words many times, to the point that the first surah that should've taken less than a minute to recite, ended up taking way longer than anyone would like to admit.

As Mihirmah finished reading, you could see the tears welling up in her eyes and redness in her cheeks. She was utterly embarrassed, she felt she had let her parents down.

"Oh Mihirmah~" Mahidevran cooed. "That was.... not good at all, darling."

"I-" Mihirmah tried to muster up an excuse but the sultana did not care.

"I mean- you were just a disaster! Stuttering and making so many mistakes, and that too with the book open!"

"Mahidevran, enough." Hurrem warned.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes at her. "What? Oh Hurrem, I am not trying to embarrass Mihirmah! In fact, I think she's not at fault. Well, not completely. I suppose she just doesnt have a good teacher."

Everyone was now looking at you.

Is this how everything ends up becoming your fault and you're the one who gets punished?

Fuck. This.

"Excuse me?" You couldnt help the irritation seep in your voice.

Mahidevran raised a brow at you. "Am I wrong? You were supposed to be the one responsible for teaching our princess Quran. And yet, she just made a fool out of herself. You tried to fool us by making Mihirmah learn the shortest surah, but look at her now- barely able to read from the book!"

Your eyes widened. Is she for real?

"I think you're wrong, sultana." Everyone looked at you as you stated boldly. "Yes, Mihirmah sultana did stammer and made mistakes as she read but I think thats much more valuable." You sighed. "Mihirmah sultana had to make twice the effort to read the Quran than one usually would, but she will also get twice the reward from Allah for her efforts. She knew she wont read well, she knows she's just a beginner at this stage, but she didnt let it stop her. And Allah will reward her for that, He knows what was in her heart, her intentions, despite what anyone has to say about her skills."

"And as for "trying to fool" anyone here- "You looked her dead in the eye. "I find that accusation insulting to the very core. You say that I made Mihirmah sultana memorise the shortest surah in the Quran. I did. Surah Kawthar is indeed the shortest surah, but does that mean it is less important? Not worthy to be read, or be in the Holy Book altogether?"

Mahidevran was frowning as you looked at her. "Do you claim to know better than Allah as to what should or shouldn't be in His divine book? Surah Kawthar may be the shortest surah in the Quran but it is one that I find deep comfort in. As the surah translates-

Indeed, We have granted you ˹O Prophet˺ abundant goodness.

So pray and sacrifice to your Lord ˹alone˺

Only the one who hates you is truly cut off ˹from any goodness˺.

And what does this tell us? The background of these verses is that when our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) lost his son, his enemies, the non believers would make fun of him that "Islam will end now because Muhammad had no male heir to continue to grow the religion, to spread the word of Allah." But Allah wouldn't abandon his beloved prophet, even when he was depressed.

This Surah was sent down when the nonbelievers of Makkah taunted the Holy Prophet (PBUH) because he had lost all his male issues, and called him 'abtar' or insulted him for some other reason. The present Surah gives an answer to the taunts of the nonbelievers, and maintains that there is no justification for calling the Holy Prophet (PBUH) an 'abtar' only because he had no male child alive, not only because his lineal offspring will remain till the Day of Judgment, though from his daughters, but he was destined to be the spiritual father of a multitude of sons in all ages to the end of time, sons who were to be far more faithful, obedient and loving than the sons of any father, and they will outnumber the followers of all the Prophets that came before him. The Surah has also highlights the great honor and respect given to him by Allah.

I also like to think that the reason why this Surah was included in the Quran was so that Muslims in general would also be comforted by the word of Allah. That all the Muslims, even if they were not from Prophet Muhammad's direct lineage, we are his ummah and so we will also enjoy the river Kawthar.

Kawthar refers to a river in paradise, which translates "a river that contains abundant goodness" and we will enjoy the greatest honour and respect, as our Prophet Muhammad's ummah."

You took a deep breath. "So, Mahidevran sultana... do you still accuse me of fooling anyone?"

The room was dead silent. You may have indirectly insulted Mahidevran and broken so many rules, but everything you said was true. It was clear. You were smart and educated, Suleiman had no doubt about it when he first met you. And now, he was only more reassured of his decision to make you Mihirmah's teacher.

"Very well said, Y/n." Suleiman broke the silence. Standing up, he walked over to Mihirmah, holding her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead, comforting his daughter.

"I am very proud of you, Mihirmah. I can see the hardwork you did." He hugged her again, pressing another kiss to her forehead as she sniffled softly. "I knew you'd do well, so I brought a gift for you."

Mihirmah watched as a servant brought a wooden box lined with velvet and gems. Opening it, she gasped softly.

It was a gold bracelet with rubies and emeralds, lined in an intricate pattern.

Hurrem smiled as Suleiman put the bracelet around his daughter's wrist, before bringing her hand to his lips and pecking it.

He was a proud father.

"And Y/n-" You stiffened. Suleiman turned towards you, his body towering over you. "You did a fine job at not only teaching Mihirmah, but also helping us understand the significance of Surah Kawther."

A servant brought box, similar to Mihirmah's. Opening it, you saw a bracelet, identical to Mihirmah's.

"This is for you." Suleiman smiled as he placed the bracelet around your trembling hand.

"I- sultan-" you tried to return it but Suleiman silenced you.

"I crafted this with my own hands. It'll be rude of you to refuse." Your eyes widened at his serious tone and you immediately bowed your head.

"T-thank you, sultan." He hummed, returning to his seat while Mihirmah hugged you, giggling.

Dinner continued on as Mihirmah and her siblings began chattering once you left, but something had disturbed both Hurrem and Mahidevran.

"What happened inside? Catfight?" Baris Agha, the gossiper asked as you stumbled out of the room. His eyes fell on the bracelet and he snatched your hand. "Allah! Allah! Did you steal this?! I will have you-"

"Sultan Suleiman gifted it to me." Baris dropped your hand.

"S-sultan? Sultan's gift?" He whispered to himself in disbelief, but you were already walking away. You were tired, your headache had now turned into a migraine and your energy levels had dropped. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and at this point, you dont care if you wake up or not.

But sleep is for the fortunate ones. For you, Baris Agha was written.

"Y/n! You- stop! Listen!" He ran up behind you, pulling your shoulder to make you stop. "You- Sultan Suleiman gifted you the bracelet?! Do you know what this means?"

You heaved a sigh, your vision getting blurry. "Baris, just- just shut up. I need to... sleep." You turned around and started walking, not realising just how blurry your vision was, or how you were leaning against the wall for support.

All you saw was blurry figure standing in front of you, before you lost your footing. The figure caught you, and you heard Baris yell your name before losing consciousness.

Hurrem was in Suleiman's chambers. She was going to spend the night here, it seemed. Suleiman had summoned her himself tonight.

Suleiman walked inside, and when he spotted his wife, he smiled. Hurrem returned the smile, walking upto him and kissing him.

"Suleiman..." She whispered against his lips. "You summoned me?"

"I did." He lead her to the bed, sitting down. "What do you think of Y/n?"

She tilted her head. Y/n? "I suppose she is a good teacher. Smart. Well educated, at least religion wise."

He let out a hum. "What else?"

"What else, Suleiman? I dont know her." Suleiman chuckled, making her even more confused. Why are you being brought up right now?

"Well, try getting to know her better." "Why?"

Suleiman shrugged. "You'll know in due time."

Hurrem couldnt put her mind at peace the rest of the night. Why was Suleiman curious about you? He couldnt possibly want you- no. No. She saw him with you. He practically looked at you the same way he looked at Mihirmah. Thats why he gave you both the same bracelets-

Oh no.

You woke up when you felt something cool on your forehead. Opening your eyes, a wet rag blocked your vision. You pushed the rag away, accidentally touching the hand that was holding the rag there.

A man was sitting on your bedside. He had honey-coloured eyes, short, well kept dark brown hair and tanned skin.

"You can let go of my hand, Hatun Y/n." He grinned.

Your face turned red as you dropped his hand. "I- sorry."

"No worries. You're just disoriented from earlier. Exhaustion, the physicians say." He chuckled, standing up and you noticed Baris standing in the corner now. "You will need to get used to working long hours, especially now." Baris raised his brows at you as he said that, making the man laugh again.

"I will take my leave now. Take care, Hatun Y/n. And let me know if she needs anything, Baris."

"Of course, Ibrahim pasha." He bid farewell to the vizir.

The man said before leaving. Baris immediately rushed to you, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Who would've guessed- the preacher to be the tempteress?"

"Excuse me?" You glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Baris waved you off. "Well, be flattered! I mean- you're going to be married to a sehzade soon-"

"Woah woah! What are you talking about?"

Baris stared at you. "Oh, you really dont know, do you?" You looked even more puzzled. Baris grabbed your wrist, showing you the bracelet. "This is made by sultan Suleiman. The sultan only gives handmade gifts to family and close relatives. And since I've been here since the sultan married the first sultana, I know you're not his secret love child, which means..." he waited for you to catch on, but giving up when you took too long.

"Y/n, if you're not related to him blood, then you will become related to him by becoming a part of his family. Which will be by you becoming his daughter-in-law!" He exclaimed.

Your face paled. No, no!

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies, darling." Baris tapped your chin. "And I suggest you hide your bracelet for a while. Dont want the concubines to get jealous, hm?"

So?? Thoughts??? Who do you think will be the yanderes? What do you think will happen next???

PART 9 is here!

#yandere x darling #time traveller au #king baldwin x reader #yandere male #yandere harem #yandere x reader

1K notes · View notes

asksonicverse · 3 months ago

Note

You dont need to answer but I just wanted to tell you I adore Paradox being like "I hate all of them except" and then listing everyone except like 2 guys, honey you don't hate *all* of them you expressly don't hate *most of them*

Extremely charming characterization i adore it

[Creator Special number 2!]

So glad someone noticed that, I was originally going to have him name EVERYONE except Boost but then I was like “nah, Mania is just too annoying for Paradox to tolerate him”

And thanks! I’m trying to be… consistent with my characterization of each of them and stay in line with canon but like… URGH sometimes I want to deviate so bad just to indulge but I resist!

Needless to say tho, prism is probably going to get more affectionate later on. Rewatched Sonic Prime again and bro is a cutie patootie!

Headcanons… headcanons… hmm

Well, starting with the obvious, Paradox goes to therapy as I’ve mentioned which I think is hilarious. He and Lance are the only Shadows who really have their shit together which is why I think Sonadow works well for them? (we stan healthy relationships guys)

I do head canon that Eight doesn’t like being touched really at all anymore. After the metal virus, he grew so used to the fact that he couldn’t touch anyone that it sorta just stuck. He does it to save people, but not anything more. :(

And while I’m a sucker for the Trans Sonic HC I decided not to implement it in this particular AU!

I really want to include Captain Sonic and Shadow, but I haven’t played nor watched a serious play through of the game. (I’ve only really listened to a bit of the Snapcube dub..)

can someone tell me if Shadow is a Barista or a Mechanic in that game btw?? I google it, nothing pops up. I could’ve sworn there was something about a mechanic.

Uhh I LOVE Sonic Frontiers, fire game. If I include that one, it’ll ALSO be Sonamy since I’m pretty sure that game takes place before SA2 in canon?

I’m trying to keep the Sonics and Shadows balanced but I’d love to add Generations Shadow and Sonic. Just thinking of names already I get “Doom” for Shadow and “Emerald” for Sonic. (Referencing the fake emerald from their interaction in the shadow story)

Unfortunately I haven’t seen the Archie comics or Sonic Underground so I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Someone also asked about if I’d ever include different AU’s: maybe if those AU creators gave me permission I’d be down to do a collab for a few asks or something!

Nope!

I dunno I just..! … how do I do? I’m fast. And you’re slow. That’s how I did it. /ref

Ahahah just kidding! But I am very fast. A few years ago I convinced myself I was a “slow drawer” because I was in a discord server with someone I looked up to (and holy cheese they could draw out fully articulate sketches in like 30 seconds!)

So I got insecure and taught myself to draw really fast. So now I just.. zoom! This does have a terrible draw back where I will very frequently forget smaller details.

Like if you look at half the posts, Shadow is missing his eyeliner and other markings frequently.

THIS IS JUST HILARIOUS TO ME YOU GUYS. PLEASE—

I’ve gotten SO many asks in my box about using Maria to calm the Shadows down or trying to give Shadows “Maria plushies”

Imagine you’re having a bad day and you get a plushie of your dead sibling thrown at you??? LMFAOOOO

I CANT I CANT I CANT PUT THEM THROUGH THAT 💔 Also I see every single ask.

“Do you all like Latinas” and “sonic which shadow is the hottest/shadow which sonic is the hottest” have all been engraved in my brain

Was joking with a friend on how that second question would come out LMFAOO

Previous | Next

#ask the sonic verse #creator special #maria robotnik #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog

473 notes · View notes

witherby · 4 months ago

Note

we NEED more mermaid and damian content 😔🙏

(i dont know if ur accepting requests but maybe we could get a glimpse of Jon? its fine if not!! just a silly thought!!🫶🫶)

ANYWAYS I LOVE UR WRITING (and im new to ur blogs 😿)

I haven't read any of the comics... Jon is the kind one and Kon/Con is the bad boy with the attitude, right? I sure hope so, but if he isn't, then it's an AU, take it with a grain of salt! Haha.

Here's your "glimpse" of Jon 😈

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader, part 6!

The Masterlist is here!

You're awoken from your sleep by a familiar disturbance in the water.

Swish, swish, swish. Swish, swish, swish.

You bump harshly into the sides of your castle spire as you practically claw your way out, long tail unfurling as you get free, and you propel yourself eagerly towards the top floor where the opening to your tank is located. You're a blur in the water, stirring up the aquatic fauna and creating ripples from how fast you're going. You barely pay it any mind, too overjoyed by the presence of a person you didn't think you'd get to see again.

Your sense of time is shaky, especially after breaking your own routines in the wake of your separation from Damian, but you'd know that summons from anywhere. You could feel its disturbance from a mile away.

Did he miss you as much as you missed him? You hope so. Oh, you can't wait to be reunited!

You break the surface with a happy trill, arms extended to embrace your favorite caretaker, and flop over the lip of the tank with him in a tangle of limbs. Your arms encircle his shoulders, webbed fingers skittering against the familiar texture of the wetsuit, and you nuzzle into a head of black hair with a coo.

He's here! He's here, he's back, he's finally with you again! You're so happy —

"Ah — whoa! It worked! I can't believe it!"

You stiffen, eyes snapping open as you process that voice.

That's not what Damian sounds like.

When you take in more details, you come to understand the mistake you made faster and faster. The shoulders you're hugging are too broad. The hair you're nuzzling is too long. The wetsuit you're touching is a different color. The caretaker you're holding is too tall.

You draw back, chittering, and stare at soft, blue eyes, instead of your favorite glittering green.

"Hi!" The boy greets cheerfully. "I'm Jon Kent, your new primary — wait, no, waitwaitwaitwait!!"

You push yourself away from him and turn to get back into the water, but a pair of arms around your waist halts your progress. You snap your teeth threateningly, and the land creature at least has the decency to look chagrined. He's lucky you're too hungry and tired to put up much of a fight at the moment.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you," he insists. "Look, look — I brought you a bucket of food, and I grabbed you some new puzzles and toys, and I'm in a wetsuit! Bruce told me you know what that word means, because you used to swim with Damian."

You elbow Jon roughly in the stomach. He groans, but continues to hold you. There's not enough of your tail currently in the water to slip away, either. You hiss, annoyed.

"Please," the boy insists, "give me one chance! We don't have to be best friends, but you need care. You're underweight, you're overtired, and my dad says you need those patches on your tail looked at. My job is to help. I just want to help you."

Jon tugs you close, mindful to stay out of swiping range of your claws, and rests his chin on top of your head.

"One swim. I won't touch you anymore, either. Let me at least pop into your tank to clean up the discarded food and straighten up the place, okay? Just one swim together. Deal?"

You squirm and wriggle, snapping your teeth a few more times to try and slip out of his grasp. Unfortunately, Jon is stronger than he looks, and you really are overtired. The fight doesn't last much longer before you're slumped against him and panting slightly.

"Please," he murmurs again, using your name to get your attention. The fins on the sides of your head twitch, and you finally weigh your options.

A long amount of time has passed. When you see Damian walking people through the tunnels under your tank, he no longer looks at you. You are exhausted, and bored, and lonely. You miss him terribly.

You have caretakers. They are not Damian, but there are still people that come to see you and maintain your home. Jon wants to be one of those people.

You do not have to like Jon, but he has offered to play with you and look after you like Damian once did. You don't want a new playmate, but...

Maybe...maybe it will be okay. Your heart yearns for Damian, but you can nurse that particular wound yourself while letting others tend to the physical injuries. You can allow someone else to occupy your time, as long as you don't get too attached lest they, too, get dragged away from you.

Was that the problem? Was Damian taken away because you wanted him to be your life partner? Would you be able to maintain a bond with someone else as long as you remained unmated?

Jon gently calls your name again. His grip has gone slack around your waist.

"Can we be friends? Or at least cordial?" He asks you, very patiently. "Pretty please? With sprinkles on — you're a mer, you can't have sprinkles — uhhh, with fish flakes on top?"

Hmm. This new caretaker is a little bit stupid, but he's got the spirit.

Fine.

Your shoulders slump, and you hum and turn towards the bucket he set a few feet away. Jon perks up immediately.

"Really!? Thank you! Thank you so much, oh, you have no idea what a relief this is!"

He lets you go and you shimmy back into the water, leaving your head above the surface as he grabs the bucket and holds it out to you.

"Here you go. If you want more, I brought two. You can have as much as you want, I promise!"

Your eyes dart towards the doors, where you watched Bruce take your favorite person away, where there is no sign of his return, then they flicker back to Jon, and you take the bucket.

Everything will be fine. It won't be the same, but it will be fine.

Damian makes his way stealthily through the halls. The other staff members know he's not supposed to get near your tank, and if they caught him now, the jig would be up.

Luckily for him, the other staff are all idiots, so when he finally makes it to the door and swipes his father's pilfered key, the lock clicks apart and he waltzes inside your enclosure with a grin.

"Princ —" he starts to call, only for the rest of his sentence to get caught in his throat.

He watches Jon Kent, the new caretaker, adjust his wetsuit and put a rebreather on, then jump into the water where you're spinning around in cheerful circles to play with him. He watches Jon carefully spin with you, then get dragged further into the tank with your hand on his wrist. He watches a gentle smile paint your face before you swim too far down for him to see you anymore.

It took months of work for Damian to build that level of trust with you. Months. And this moronic, gap-toothed, clumsy little plebian had come in and done it in two measly weeks? Was he that skilled of a Mer caretaker?

Damian leans against the wall when his knees threaten to buckle, feeling sick.

No. Maybe he wasn't an expert handler. Maybe you just liked Jon more.

Damian was aware of his decidedly "prickly" personality, and for the most part it suited him just fine. You certainly didn't seem to mind, especially after warming up to him. Was there any warm up at all, with Jon? Or did his winning smile and people-pleasing attitude charm you instantly?

Would you eventually give him some of your scales, too?

It doesn't matter, he thinks, quickly stumbling back out of the room with a thundering pulse and burning eyes. He's seen the joy on your face. His misguided sense of importance, of thinking you needed Damian in order to be happy, of thinking he meant just as much to you as you did to him, was clearly wrong.

You'll be just fine.

#mermaid au #damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #jon kent #damian wayne #c'mon...you didn't think I'd make it that easy did you?

514 notes · View notes

inside-lees-mind · 1 year ago

Note

just watched a tiktok that essentially went ‘check your tone b4 u talk to my girl/dont talk to my wife like that’ and now i need protective naruto charas w this.. team 7 ?! (and maybe the other konoha 11 (+ sand sibs kinda fit this too but omit and add whoever! no pressure!!))

I love how this is definitely pretty much canon to Sasuke’s character lol

Some are modern AU, some aren’t. It’ll be pretty much obvious, but if it’s not, it doesn’t matter too much.

I only did team 7 (Kakashi, Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and Sai) this time since the entire Konoha 13 and sand siblings can take a while and I just did all of them on my last post.(sorry no Yamato, I don’t know how to write for him tbh)

Fem reader

“Watch your Tone before you speak to my girl.”

Naruto Uzumaki

He can’t figure out why this guy is actually flipping his shit over something so small?

All you did was bump into him while you were trying to turn around from the counter in the kitchen. The party was packed, but the kitchen wasn’t quite as bad. You didn’t think you had to watch your every step so carefully.

The guy, clearly drunk off his ass, turns around and tells you to watch yourself. He throws out some basic insults, nothing too deep, but the attempt pisses your blonde, hotheaded boyfriend off.

The guy reaches for you, probably to tap your shoulder, throwing out some “flirty” comment meant to degrade you.

Naruto shoves the dude back, “watch your tone when you talk to her. That’s my girl.”

The dude, with as much respect for Naruto as he had, nods quickly, scampering off.

Naruto pours you another drink, giving you it as he pulls you onto the dance floor.

Sasuke Uchiha

Somebody talking down to his wife?

He knows damn well you can handle yourself, so he’ll stay back, but if you look at him for some help, he’s coming right on over.

He caught wind of the guy telling you off for being weak, saying you’re no help so you have no business ever being a ninja.

He can’t help but wonder what the hell this guys problem is. His wife isn’t weak. You’re one of the top ninja in the village, without a doubt. Maybe he has an issue with women?

“Don’t talk to my wife like that. You’re half the ninja she is.”

Sai

He’s right there and some dipshit has the nerve to talk down on you IN FRONT of him????

It was over something that was common knowledge to a person native to the village your team was visiting, but you simply didn’t know. You’d apologized many times. Wasn’t that enough?

He’s very subtly sassy at first. He’s monotone and flat in tone, but he’s being snarky. You can tell and the dude is catching on.

As Sai gets more pissed off, he gets more obvious.

Because it takes a bit to make him actually feel any which way, this dude is just a dickhead. And Sai isn’t having it

“Watch your tone. Talk to her right. Or we can handle this elsewhere?” Sai is smiling, but it’s a threat.

Sakura Haruno

She’s fuming when she hears somebody talking down to you. How dare somebody shit talk her girlfriend while you’re just trying to shop.

You’d gotten the last of something, since you were there first, but some Karen ass woman wanted it and was telling you why she deserves it more than you.

You’d explained kindly how you got to it first, but looked about ready to give it up and hand it over.

Sakura wasn’t going to let this woman step on your toes

“Watch your tone when you talk to my girl.” Sakura balls her hands into fists beside herself, but doesn’t raise them.

The woman is scared because Sakura is lowkey jacked and now she knows she’ll never be safe again. She gives it up.

Kakashi Hatake

This person didn’t know you were with Kakashi, without a doubt.

You were in a book store, and apparently you’d accidentally bumped into some girl and knocked all the books out of her arms. (She was carrying way too many without a basket for some reason)

You apologized, helping her pick them up, but she wasn’t letting it go.

She kept insulting your thinking skills and asked if you’re going blind. Over all, just things Kakashi knew weren’t true or didn’t matter. It was an accident. (And if you were going/are blind, it’s still, and more so, not your fault so he’s trying to figure out who tf this girl is??)

He waits to see what you do, but he won’t hesitate if he sees you need just a bit of help.

“How unhappy with your life do you have to be to talk like that?” Kakashi asks, closing his book. “You should watch your tone when you talk to my girl.”

1K notes · View notes

justarkive · 2 months ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch10

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: SMUT, super emotion heavy chapter, Jungkook is selfish as hell. oc starts getting sus, super domestic shit, field date, profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol! , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity, alc consumption, jk cant stop thinking of his enlistment :((

smut warnings: THEY FINALLY FUCK!! protected sex, dry humping, nipple play, deepthroating, oral f + m receiving, missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl but like her back is on his chest??, spanking, clit rubbing, clit spanking, idk guys its kinda nasty. BIG DICK JUNGKOOK DUH, oc cries during sex, its too big </3 oc is slightly tipsy but not enough to cloud her judgement.

wc: long.

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92

a/n: it took me a little while to get this chapter out so i apologise but its here!! they finally fuck. jungkook is honestly a dick for what hes doing atm but they are so so sosisisoss cuteeeee aaaa!! im not the best at writing smut as you can tell from this probably and my other chapters, but enjoy ;) and as always thank you for reading and lmk what u think!

masterlist < prev | next >

You wake up feeling wrecked.

Like, full-on regretting every life decision that led you to staying on the phone with Jeon Jungkook until 5 a.m. Your eyelids feel like they’re weighted blankets on your eyes, your body refuses to cooperate, and your brain is running on fumes.

Still, you blindly reach for your phone, squinting at the screen. There’s a text waiting for you.

Jungkook: good morning:)

Jungkook: don’t even argue. im picking u up at 8 tonight.

You blink. Once. Twice. But the messages stays the exact same.

You: ??

You: good morning

You: Where are we going??

You: jungkooookkk

You: Hello????

Nothing. No reply.

This man is actually impossible.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed, already knowing today is going to be a struggle. After a quick omw text to Nari, you somehow get to work. The usual chaos, the usual weird customers, the usual banter with Nari. Nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that the hours feel endless.

By the time you finally get home, you’re exhausted, but there’s no time to rest.

Because, of course, Nari is already on your ass.

“Oh my god, why the hell are you moving like a grandma?” she yells, yanking you into the bathroom. “You need to shower, like, now.”

“I just got home—”

“And Jungkook is going to be here in an hour, meaning you have maybe 30 minutes to get ready before the inevitable breakdown over what to wear. Go.”

You grumble but obey, stepping into the shower. The warm water is a blessing, and you end up standing under the spray for way too long, completely losing track of time.

Bad move.

Because when you finally step out, towel wrapped around you, you’re met with Nari’s wild eyes and a frantic, “You have five minutes before Jungkook gets here—”

Cue full-on chaos.

Nari is aggressively blow-drying your hair while you rush through your makeup, both of you talking over each other.

“Why are you taking so long—”

“I lost track of time—”

“You literally always do this—”

“Okay, but you’re not helping—”

The real panic sets in when it’s time to pick an outfit.

“What is he wearing?” you demand, rifling through your closet.

“I don’t know,” Nari replies. “How am i supposed to know?”

You pull out a dress. “This?”

“Too fancy.”

A hoodie. “This?”

“Too casual.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

Just as you’re debating throwing on pajamas and giving up entirely, theres a soft knock on the door which you dont particularly notice, too busy rummaging through your closet.

“NO!” Nari practically lunges out of your room for the door, blocking you from going anywhere near it. Opening it unimpressed, seeing Jungkook smug as ever.

“Do not let her know you’re here,” she hisses. “She will lose her shit. Be a gentleman, Jungkook. Wait.”

You frown, shouting from the bedroom. “Who are you talking to?!”

“Um. Myself!”

Suspicious. But you’re too distracted to question it.

Finally, you throw on something casual but cute—jeans and a sweater, safe and simple.

Nari peeks back to where your room is, then finally lets Jungkook in. “Okay, you’re good.”

You turn and leave your room, expecting him to have just arrived—only to find him standing there, looking way too nice. You freeze.

He’s in a button-up.

A fitted one. With nice pants. And his hair is styled in that annoyingly perfect way that makes him look effortlessly cool.

“…Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

His brows furrow. “Like what?”

“Like—like we’re going to a five-star restaurant.”

Jungkook blinks. Then shrugs, completely unfazed. “Didn’t know what you’d wear, so I played it safe.”

Panic sets in all over again.

“I need to change—”

“You look beautiful.”

“No, no, no, I can’t be underdressed while you look like that.”

Jungkook sighs. “You’re really gonna—”

“Yes.” You’re already bolting to your room. “Give me two minutes.”

Nari watches the scene unfold like it’s her favorite reality show. As soon as you disappear, she turns to Jungkook, arms crossed.

“By the way. Where are you actually taking her?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “A field.”

Nari stares. Confused, but trusts him anyway.

“A field.”

“…Yeah.”

“Jungkook, you dressed up this much to take her to a field?”

He shrugs again, completely unbothered. “Didn’t want to give it away. And it’s special, promise.”

Nari presses her fingers to her temples. “You realize she’s about to come out looking way too nice for a field, right?”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change. “Yeah.”

“…And you’re not gonna warn her?”

“Nope. It’ll be fitting.”

Nari groans, but ultimately just sighs. “Fine. But at least tell her to change out of her heels before you leave, or I’m gonna feel guilty.”

Jungkook smirks. “Deal.”

Two minutes later, you finally emerge, having swapped your casual outfit for something much dressier. Jungkook just smiles, saying nothing.

And as he leads you out the door, you have no idea you’re about to be wildly overdressed for a field.

You give Nari a kiss on the cheek goodbye, her giving you the usual playful warning of not doing anything stupid before you lock the door behind you and let Jungkook lead you to the car.

The warmth of Jungkook’s hand around yours startles you at first. Not because it’s unfamiliar, but because of how effortless it feels. There’s no hesitation in the way he intertwines your fingers with his, no anxious glances over his shoulder like he’s worried about being seen. It’s easy—too easy—and you’re not sure what to make of it. Something’s changed. Something’s made him suddenly not care.

Still, you don’t say anything.

He leads you toward the car, your steps falling in sync with his, and even as he lets go to open the passenger door for you, the absence of his touch lingers. You slip inside, settling into the seat as he rounds the front and slides in beside you.

“Where are we going?” you ask immediately, twisting to face him.

Jungkook merely smirks, hands steady on the wheel as he starts the engine. “Not telling.”

You huff. “Why not?”

“Because,” he hums, shifting gears before pulling out onto the road, “it’s a surprise.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hate surprises.”

“No, you don’t.” He grins, eyes flickering to yours briefly before returning to the road. “Patience, baby.”

The word slips from his lips so naturally, so effortlessly, that it catches you off guard. Your heart skips, but you force yourself to ignore it, focusing instead on the scenery passing outside the window.

The drive is quiet, but comfortable. Every now and then, you steal a glance at him—the way his hands grip the wheel, the sharp cut of his jawline, the soft curve of his lips as he hums under his breath.

It’s when you’re stopped at a red light that he catches you staring. Again.

His head turns slightly, and your eyes meet, his gaze dark and knowing. The corner of his mouth tugs up in amusement, but he doesn’t say anything—just watches you, lets the moment stretch between you until the light changes and he’s forced to look away.

Your face burns as you quickly avert your gaze, clearing your throat.

You swear you hear him chuckle.

By the time you finally arrive, you’re still mildly flustered. But the confusion quickly overtakes that feeling when you see the sign for the park, the open field stretching ahead.

You blink. “Wait—why are we at a park?”

Jungkook cuts the engine, then turns to you with a soft smile. “Trust me.”

You stare at him for a second longer before sighing. “Fine.”

Again, he reaches for your hand, pulling you along with ease as you step out of the car and onto the grassy path. The air is warm, tinged with the soft scent of wildflowers, and the sky is painted in hues of pink and gold, the sun dipping just below the horizon.

It’s beautiful.

And then you see it.

A blanket spread neatly across the grass, fairy lights strung up in the nearby trees, twinkling just faintly against the evening light. There’s a small picnic set up, a couple of bottles of wine and an array of food that—upon closer inspection—looks like it was ordered from a high-end restaurant.

You turn to Jungkook, raising an eyebrow. “You seriously made me dress up for a field?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Would you rather I took you to a fancy restaurant?”

You pause, glancing back at the setup. “No… This is perfect.”

And it is. It’s simple and intimate and feels like something entirely Jungkook—something that’s just for the two of you.

You settle down onto the blanket beside him, letting yourself take it all in. The quiet hum of crickets in the distance, the soft glow of the fairy lights, the way Jungkook sits beside you, one leg bent, the other stretched out, his gaze set on the sky.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, finally, he does.

“The reason I brought you here,” he starts, voice quiet, “is because nobody really knows about this spot.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s where I’ve always gone to calm down. After work, practice, tours—whenever things got too much.”

You turn to look at him, his features bathed in soft orange light.

“And I felt like you belonged in it,” he continues, finally meeting your gaze. “With me.”

Your breath catches.

And just like that, it’s no longer just a field. It’s his safe place. And now, it’s yours too.

The warm hues of the sunset had long faded into deeper shades of indigo, the sky now dotted with the first few stars peeking through the velvety dusk. The fairy lights strung up around the backyard glowed softly, casting a golden shimmer over the remnants of dinner. Plates pushed aside, your wine glass half-full, and the gentle hum of night settled around the two of you like a comforting embrace. The food is long gone, but the night is still young.

Jungkook, who had spent the last few minutes idly running his fingers along the rim of his water bottle, suddenly cleared his throat. “Okay, don’t laugh,” he started, reaching down beside his chair, “but I saw this thing online, and I thought it might be fun.”

You raised a curious brow as he pulled out a canvas, still blank, resting it carefully on the blanket between you. “Painting?” you mused, tilting your head.

“Not just painting,” he corrected, shifting in his place as if suddenly second-guessing himself. “It’s this thing where, like, one person starts a painting, then passes it to their partner, and they add something to it. And you just keep passing it back and forth until it’s finished. Thought it’d be nice if we tried it.”

The idea was so… him. Thoughtful, sentimental. Something that would leave behind a memory you could actually see, touch. Your heart swelled at the simplicity of it, the sweetness.

“You think of everything, don’t you?” you murmured, reaching over to take his hand, squeezing it softly.

His ears pinked, but he tried to brush it off with a casual shrug. “I just—thought it’d be nice. To make something together.”

You traced your fingers over the smooth surface of the canvas, something bubbling inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A nostalgia, a fondness for something you’d once loved.

“I used to paint a lot,” you admitted, eyes flickering up to him. “When I was younger. But life got busy, and I kind of just… stopped.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No way. You never told me that.”

You smiled, a little wistfully. “I guess I forgot. Or maybe I just didn’t think about it much anymore.”

He hummed, thoughtful. “I get that,” he admitted, glancing down at the canvas. “Sometimes I wonder if—” He hesitated, lips quirking in a wry smile. “If I wasn’t, you know, in one of the biggest bands in the world, maybe I’d dabble in art a little more. I love painting from time to time.”

You laughed softly. “Jungkook, you are an artist. Your art just exists in a different form.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something tender settling in his features. He didn’t say anything, just smiled, that small, knowing smile that always made your chest tighten.

A quiet moment passed between you before he reached for the paintbrush, dipping it into the paint and pressing the first stroke onto the canvas. A soft, curved line.

Then, he turned it toward you.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

The canvas starts out blank with Jungkook’s random green curved line, a fresh slate for the both of you to bring something beautiful to life. You sit cross-legged on the grass, the cool night air brushing against your skin, while Jungkook kneels beside you, sleeves rolled up, eyes alight with quiet amusement. His brush strokes are careful at first, blending soft pastels into delicate swirls. You mirror him, dipping your brush into a gentle shade of yellow, filling in the spaces between his colors, and for a while, it’s peaceful—just the two of you, creating something together.

Until Jungkook, the menace that he is, drags his brush across the page and suddenly there’s a cartoonish face staring back at you. A dumb little smiley face, right in the middle of your work.

You gasp, scandalized. “Jungkook!”

“What?” He grins, clearly unrepentant. “I think it adds character.”

“You just ruined it,” you huff, grabbing your brush and scribbling wildly over his addition, turning the face into an abstract mess of color.

“Oh, we’re doing that now?” He challenges, eyes gleaming, before he swipes his brush across the canvas again, this time completely disregarding any previous attempt at an actual painting. You do the same, jabbing color after color onto the canvas until it’s an explosion of chaos—brilliant, vibrant, utterly nonsensical. You’re both laughing now, breathless with amusement, hands stained with paint.

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook leans back, dramatically sighing. “You can have it.”

“Really?” You brighten, reaching for the canvas.

“You thought you could get away with it so easily?” His tone is teasing, and before you can react, he swipes his paint-covered fingers across your cheek, smearing blue and red onto your skin.

Your jaw drops.

You’re too whipped- more than you’d like to admit- to care that Jungkook has just ruined the full face of makeup you’d rushed through.

“Jungkook.”

He just grins. “What?”

“You’re dead.”

The next few seconds are a blur. You launch at him with your own paint-covered hands, swiping green onto his nose, red across his jawline. He yelps, scrambling up onto his feet, and then you’re chasing each other across the field, laughing so hard your sides ache. Jungkook catches you by the waist at one point, spinning you around, making you shriek before you retaliate by dragging your paint-slicked fingers through his hair.

“Okay, okay, truce!” He gasps out between laughs, both of you collapsing onto the grass, completely out of breath.

The world is quiet now, the night sky stretching above you in endless black, stars twinkling like distant dreams. Jungkook’s hand finds yours in the grass, fingers lacing together with ease. Neither of you say anything for a while—just lying there, hearts still racing, skin covered in smudges of color, the remnants of your laughter still lingering in the air.

And somehow, it’s perfect.

Lying on the grass, still out of breath, you soak in the quiet hum of the world around you. The night air is cool against your sweat-slick skin, but the warmth of Jungkook’s body beside you keeps you from shivering. The only sound between you is the occasional rustling of the grass and the distant chirp of crickets. It’s comfortable—so comfortable that you could almost forget that moments like this don’t last forever.

Jungkook, however, is still stuck in his head.

He shifts slightly beside you, staring up at the sky, his fingers absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. You feel it before he even speaks—the way his energy shifts, his body tensing ever so slightly as if he’s about to break the silence.

And then he does.

“Hey…”

His voice is quiet, thoughtful. You turn your head, looking at him, waiting for whatever is on his mind. He hesitates, lips parting just enough, but no words come out at first. There’s something there—something heavy, weighing down his chest.

You don’t rush him. You just wait.

Jungkook swallows, gripping at the fabric of his hoodie, his heartbeat thrumming against his ribs. Tell her. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind. You have to tell her.

But he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to break this. Doesn’t want to watch the light dim in your eyes. Doesn’t want to see the shift in your body language when you realize he’s leaving. Not yet. Not when he still has this—still has you.

So instead, he blurts out, “You should come to my tour next week.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“My show. You should come.” He turns his head to look at you now, his eyes searching yours, like he’s hoping you won’t catch onto whatever he was originally going to say. “You’d like it. You’d get to see me perform properly, you know, instead of just messing around.” He flashes you a smile, playful, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath it.

Your lips curve up. “You mean instead of hearing you hum while you burn eggs on my stove?”

“Exactly,” he breathes out, relieved that you’re going along with it. “Totally different experience.”

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Well… yeah, of course, I’ll come.”

Something in Jungkook’s chest tightens. You don’t hesitate—not even for a second. He doesn’t know why, but that makes it worse.

“Good,” he murmurs, looking back up at the sky. His heart is still racing, but not from the run earlier.

He knows he’s being selfish.

But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not tonight. Not yet.

The walk back to his car is slower than it needs to be. Neither of you say it out loud, but you’re both dragging out the moment, reluctant for the night to end. The streets are quieter now, the city winding down, but the tension between you is anything but.

Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours for the third time, but he doesn’t take it. You don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

When you finally reach his car, he hesitates before unlocking it, turning to face you instead. His eyes roam over your face, like he’s trying to memorize the night through you.

“You have work tomorrow?” he asks, voice softer now.

You shake your head. “No.”

He exhales, like that was the answer he was hoping for. “Do you wanna come to my place?”

The words settle between you, heavy with meaning. His fingers drum lightly against his car door as he watches for your reaction. There’s no pressure in his voice, no expectation. Just quiet hope.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, but your lips part before your brain catches up. “Yeah,” you say, barely above a whisper.

His lips twitch into a small smile, and he unlocks the car. The drive to his apartment is quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. The air is thick with unspoken words, anticipation weaving through every glance he steals in your direction.

When he pulls up to his building and kills the engine, he turns to look at you properly. “We don’t have to if—”

“I want to,” you interrupt, already reaching for the door handle.

His brows lift in surprise before he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he follows you out. You don’t know what’s going to happen next, but as you step into the elevator beside him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you know one thing for sure—tonight isn’t over yet.

You step into Jungkook’s apartment, the soft creak of the door marking the start of another quiet evening together. The place is… neat. Too neat. There are no plushies, no bright colors, just the quiet calm of minimalism. A stark contrast to your pastel-yellow chaos at home.

Jungkook is still holding the canvas you brought in from the field, walking in front of you. Your feet are sore—aching from running around the field, being on your feet for hours. You don’t say anything, though. There’s no need to complain. But Jungkook notices immediately, like he always does, his sharp eyes catching every detail, even the smallest of ones. You feel his gaze on you, and when you look up, he’s already sitting down next to you on the couch, inspecting your feet.

“Let me help,” he murmurs, gently tugging your feet onto his lap.

You blink in surprise. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gently removes your sneakers, revealing blisters that have formed at the top of your heels. The sight makes him frown, and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed, even though it’s nothing new to you.

“They’re nothing,” you protest, but he’s already examining your feet, looking concerned.

“Don’t act tough. This looks like it hurts,” he says softly, his voice gentle but serious. He disappears into his bathroom for a moment, coming back with a small tube of ointment.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”

But he doesn’t listen. He’s determined. He squeezes some ointment onto his finger and carefully starts rubbing it on your blisters. His touch is soft, careful, like he’s trying to heal more than just your feet. And there’s something so intimate about the way he’s doing it—like this simple act of care is his way of showing affection.

The quiet in the room feels warmer now, as he focuses on tending to your blisters, his brow furrowed in concentration. You lean back against the couch, feeling the warmth of his hands and the soft hum of the apartment. It’s almost… domestic. The sound of the soft swish of ointment being applied, the quiet hum of his voice as he checks if you’re okay.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmurs, focusing on each blister with an intensity you didn’t expect from such a simple task. “Let me take care of you.” His voice is low, almost soft. It’s the kind of tone that makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in that moment.

You can’t help but smile, just a little. “I get these all the time at work,” you say, trying to brush it off. But it’s clear from the way he’s treating you that it’s not just about the blisters. It’s about something deeper—something you can’t quite explain. But he knows what it is.

“That’s the problem,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of your ankle. “You don’t take care of yourself enough.”

You chuckle lightly, half-drunk from the wine earlier. “What do you mean? I’m fine. You’re acting like I’m falling apart.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a smile, but he says nothing. Instead, he finishes rubbing in the ointment, his eyes still soft as they meet yours. “You should let me take care of you more,” he adds, his words careful but intentional.

There’s a brief moment of silence, and you finally pull your feet back from his lap, sitting up. You glance around his apartment again, the stark, clean surfaces, the minimalist furniture that looks like it could belong to anyone but him. It’s… boring. Everything looks so empty. So… plain.

You smirk, teasing him. “This place is so boring, Jungkook. You need some color. And, like, a few toys… maybe a stuffed animal or two.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You think I need stuffed animals?”

You nod. “A hundred percent. Your apartment is practically a morgue without them.”

Jungkook chuckles, but there’s a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little flustered. “What do you mean? It’s—”

“You need some of my energy in here,” you continue, tipsy confidence taking over. You look around the room again and immediately start pointing out places where you’d put everything. “That shelf would be perfect for a few extra plushies, maybe a little neon light over there,” you gesture towards the corner of the room. “The couch could use a yellow throw. Maybe… a pillow? Or ten?”

Jungkook laughs, but there’s a nervous edge to it. “Maybe you should just do it, then,” he says. You can see the shy glint in his eyes, as if the idea is both absurd and exactly what he needs.

And you’re already nodding, a little too tipsy to be subtle. “I will,” you say with a grin, “It’s all part of my master plan. You’ll love it.”

The alcohol buzz makes you bold, and you’re already imagining what his place would look like, completely transformed into something warmer. More you. Maybe a little chaotic, but at least it would have personality.

Jungkook watches you, still a little flustered but clearly enjoying the way you’re taking charge. You feel a sudden warmth in your chest as you realize that maybe… maybe it’s just the beginning. This apartment. This moment. The way he’s looking at you.

Maybe you’re already home.

You’re curled up on the couch again with Jungkook, the TV playing something in the background, though neither of you are really paying attention. You’re lost in your own thoughts, flicking through your phone, when suddenly Jungkook shifts beside you.

“About these plushies,” he says, voice a little too casual, like he’s trying to hide the excitement. He disappears into his room for a second, and when he comes back, he’s holding something big, something fluffy.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait, no way…” you murmur, eyes fixed on the plushie he’s holding. It’s huge, like, absurdly huge for something meant to be hugged, and when you finally realize what it is, you burst out laughing.

“Seriously? How have you not had this on display?” you say, reaching out to touch it. “This is adorable.”

He grins sheepishly. “I’ve had it for years. Won it at an arcade, I don’t know, just never thought it was something I should show to someone.”

It’s a Hello Kitty plushie, and it’s wearing a purple onesie. Not just any onesie, though – it’s soft purple with a rainbow fade, almost like cotton candy. The plushie’s face is as sweet as ever, but the oversized onesie adds this adorable charm to it. Jungkook’s expression as you ogle it is almost funny in how genuinely embarrassed he looks, though you can tell there’s a soft, endearing pride hiding behind it.

You’re trying not to laugh too loudly, but it’s hard when you’re holding it in your arms like it’s the greatest thing ever. “Jungkook, this is too cute, I have something exactly like this from when i was young” you say, squeezing it to your chest. “How have you not shown this to me before? This is, like, peak childhood nostalgia.”

Before you know it, you’re tugging at the plushie, not letting go. “No, this is mine now,” you tease, pulling it away from him. Jungkook grins, and the next thing you know, you’re both in a tug-of-war, both unwilling to admit that you secretly want to keep the thing for yourself.

The fight only lasts a few seconds, though, and you find yourself tumbling into his lap (On accident… obviously.) the plushie now caught between you both. You’re laughing, but it’s a different kind of laugh – one that feels deeper, more genuine, like you’re both letting go of everything and just enjoying the moment.

For a second, you stop pulling at the plushie, both of you just breathing and looking at each other.

Jungkook’s hand is on your waist, his touch warm and steady. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and the energy between you two shifts.

The playful moment is still there, but it’s mixed with something else now—something more intimate, something that’s been building between you two for a while now. You can feel the tension rising as his hand brushes against your skin, and his breath becomes heavier. You’re so close now, you can feel his heartbeat in his chest as your body presses against his.

You both know what’s about to happen, but for a moment, neither of you move. It’s a moment suspended in time, the world outside of the two of you disappearing.

That’s when you feel it. You feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against you. Jungkook’s hands immediately gripping your waist harder, stronger. This time- he’s not scared, he’s not hesitating. As if he’s been waiting for this as much as you have.

He pulls you closer, his smirk mischievous as he ground up into you. You haven’t even got started and you’re already fucking drenched. “Feel that?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Feel how much I want you?”

You moan softly, body arching into his, your hands tangling in his hair. “Shut up, kiss me,” you demand, pulling his lips to yours.

The kiss was hungry, carnal, nothing at all like the previous pecks or quick kisses you’ve exchanged. Your lips finally meet, and he wastes no time. His tongue invades your mouth as his hips move against yours in a rhythm that was both teasing and relentless.

Dry humping jungkook was… electric in a way, you could do it for hours, the friction between your bodies sending waves of heat straight to your pussy. Like seriously. There was something different about doing it with him, like you could probably do this rather than fuck-

A lie. But pretty close to the truth.

You feel your panties growing damp, clinging to you like it’s second skin, and you knew he could feel it too. You will yourself to push away the icky feeling and focus on the pleasure instead.

“You’re so wet,” He murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “You like this?”

You bite your lip, biting back a smile, nodding as he stood up suddenly. Your about to protest until he lifts you so… effortlessly and it has your panties absolutely drenched.

His strength was intoxicating. And you wrap your legs around his dainty, tiny waist, hands gripping his shoulders. He’s kicking the door open, rushing to what you can only guess is his bedroom, and you have no time to even process your surroundings, not like you’re expecting anything different than a bed and some boring white walls, maybe a desk, until his mouth is back on yours.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck as he carries you to the bed. Compared to his particularly rough way of handling you previously, he sets you down gently, just long enough to rip off his shirt, revealing his tatted arms and muscular chest. But after that, his hands are immediately back at your skin. You swear you see them itching to touch your skin while he took off his shirt as if removing his fingers from your warmth electrocuted the poor man-

The soft glow of his lamp casts golden hues across his skin, tracing every ridge and contour like a painter’s careful brushstrokes. And now you really take him in, hands running down the expanse of his chest and his abs. And he lets you.

His tattoos on his arm shift with every slow breath, the inked designs stretching over taut muscle, telling stories in a language only his body knows. Shadows dip between the carved lines of his abs, the definition sharp yet effortless, a testament to years of quiet discipline.

His collarbones catch the light just right, leading your gaze lower, where the steady rise and fall of his chest keeps time with the quiet space between you. He’s beautiful—undeniably so—but it’s not just the way he looks. It’s the way he holds himself, the quiet confidence in his stance above you, the warmth of his gaze when he catches you staring.

“Like what you see?,” he smirks, his tone low and teasing. Like always.

Without hesitation, you get up to your knees, ignoring him. Jungkook’s clearly taken a back when you start fiddling with his dress pants. Whimpering like a fucking dog. Mentally thanking yourself for drinking some wine cause you probably would faint doing this sober.

You aren’t waiting any longer. The sexual tension between you both has become unbearable recently and if today is another test to your patience…you’re definitely failing.

“Please-“ Your fingers trembling slightly as you unzip his pants, pulling them down to reveal the print in his black calvins.Pawing at his boxers. He helps you a bit, pulling them down and cradling your cheek with the other hand, almost as if he’s keeping you and himself grounded.

His cock springs free, and you shamelessly ogle at it. Thick and throbbing, he’s big. You knew he’d be big. There was always something about Jeon Jungkook that screamed ‘big dick energy’ - Like Nari would say.

A singular vein starts up from the bottom, leading all the way up to his engorged, pink, wet tip. His dick is clean of pubes around the base, but he has one thing that has always had you absolutely weak in the knees. A happy trail. Faintly trailing up just underneath where his abs start, and you genuinely don’t know how you’re still steady on your knees.

You aren’t really. His mattress is far too soft to kneel comfortably, but you don’t really care about it.

You waste no time when Jungkook’s patience has ran thin and he’s suddenly wrapping his tattooed hand around the base of his cock, filling the room with nasty, lewd, wet noises as he strokes it, and before you know it, he’s swinging it across your cheek with a soft smack before finally you wrap your needy lips around his head.

You tease him first, yet you don’t know if you’re teasing him or yourself- You tease him with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the slightly salty taste of his precum as his groans fill the space around you. “Fuckk-“ he moans out loud, and you’re taken aback by how vocal he is, yet you dont let it distract you from the real mission at hand… or mouth.

He threads his fingers through your hair, and it feels so fucking intentional and intimate you cant help but break the eye contact. His thrusts at first into your mouth start shallow- as if he’s hesitating. Testing the waters. But once your soft sucking turn into full on gagging around his cock, he’s gripping your hair tighter, guiding you deeper.

You don’t even know why. Usually you aren’t the one for deepthroating, in fact you absolutely detest it. But it’s different when it’s him, and you think you know why.

You moan around him, impossible not to. The vibrations sending him closer over the edge already, but he holds back. “Take it,” he instructs. You look up again, and he looks like he’s in a different world. You aren’t surprised when you see him staring right back at you, and you abide, hollowing your cheeks as much as you possibly can for him as he starts to fuck your throat, his hips snapping forward in a rhythm that was both rough and desperate.

The room is full. Full. Of obscene noises. Some you are sure you’ve definetly never heard before in your life. And you didn’t even know you could make them. They’re mixing with his own moans, and for the weirdest reason- your mind slips to the fact he has a dog- Bam infact, who’s probably somewhere waddling around in Jungkook’s apartment waiting to be put to sleep. You completely forgot to meet him. Oh dear. That poor dog…

Anyways.

You pull off with a pop, licking your lips and grinning up at him. He looks down at you, carefully removing the sweaty stray hairs rhat have stuck to your forehead and you can’t help but nuzzle slightly into his hands. You can’t help but think when you look back up that there’s something different about the way he looks at you.

Recently, you’ve gotten used to it. Since the first night you slept over, and Jungkook tasted you as if he was eating dessert for the first time ever. When he woke you up with breakfast. That specific way he looked at you and made you feel so… loved? you couldn’t handle it.

But this time, it’s different. It feels more intense, more intimate. You don’t dwell on it too long, fearing the outcome of it.

Your lips are swollen and shiny when you finally break the silence, it getting far too heavy than what this was- “Your turn,” You tease, breaking the tension, pushing him back onto the couch. You straddle him after ripping off your soiled panties and your sad excuse of a dress, which has now became a bundle of fabric resting above your waist. Thighs brushing against his, your poor little clit is throbbing as you feel his cock pressing against her.

You sit up for a minute, looking around the room and as if Jungkook can read your mind, you’ve noticed that he basically can, he’s reaching over to the nightstand, pulling out a packet of condoms.

You roll it on after ripping it open with deliberate slowness, giving a few languid strokes to his cock, which was now as hard as ever, and it’s shining a deep red in the light of his lamp, before you straddle his meaty thighs again, you’re sure you’ve leaked all over them- but you can’t bring yourself to care anymore.

Your eyes lock on his, and you will yourself not to look away. “Impatient?” he smirks, but you just smile and nod, positioning his cock at your entrance, nudging your folds slightly.

The moment you sink down on him for the first time it’s… euphoric. It feels like it goes on forever, stretching out as long as possible. It’s different to anything you’ve ever felt before, and you’re sure it has nothing to do with the sheer size of his dick- no. It’s because it’s simply him. And you know it. His cock fills you in ways that you could never imagine at home when you felt particularly lonely and needed some quick satisfaction from your fingers.

You look down at him, seeing that this position was probably not the best choice for the first time a dick this size is entering you, a pained expression on your face. Earlier, the slight buzz of wine had you particularly cocky and to be honest- you weren’t expecting Jungkook to be this… big. He notices your discomfort, his hands finding your waist like it’s second nature.

“Slow, don’t rush.” You nod, trying your hardest to settle the ache in your walls, trying your hardest to force your expression to be neutral, but it’s the hardest part now, his base- which is noticeably thicker than the rest of his length.

Frustration slowly builds up in you, your eagerness to please and also your eagerness to chase your own pleasure and release eating you up, but when Jungkook notices- because of course he does- he immediately stops you by tightening his hold on your waist and he holds you there.

“Too big?” He smirks, but his usual cocky remarks do nothing to help your frustration like it usually does, and he notices immediately. The furrow of his concentrated brows softening as you slip off of his dick and sit on his thighs with a huff.

He’s leaning up to cradle your face, kissing the corner of your lips with a sweet peck. Your own embarrassment creeping up, evident of the slight red blush on your neck. “Hey.”

You feel your own tears creeping up and betraying your attempted facade of being well… tough. It’s clear however, Jungkook isn’t convinced, he’s sitting up now. The ache in his cock suddenly not so overwhelming as he watches your tears get the best of you. “God this is so stupid- I don’t know why i’m crying-“

He shushes you. Simply hugs you, and suddenly the need to please- the need to clear your own pleasure- it’s gone as fast as it came. Jungkook’s arms ground you, you’re still slightly buzzing from the wine, and for a bit, you just lay there. The tears have somehow come to a stop, and you just breathe. For once tonight you finally breathe. Bare chest pressed against his, and despite how sexual it all sounds, its everything but.

Its been a while- A few minutes maybe, but the silence has slowly become deafening and the twitching of Jungkooks still-hard cock beneath your stomach has definitely not gone unnoticed. And moreso the ache in your lower abdomen. He notices the shift- how suddenly you brush off your discomfort. And like the gentleman that he’s always been, has none of it.

“Hey- Stop-“ You’re scrambling around in his arms, trying to shift your position. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable okay? Relax, i’m not going anywhere.”

“Please-“ You’re grinding up on his cock now, folds melting around his base like butter- moulding to the shape of it, as if you’re pussy’s never getting a taste of it again, trying to remember it. Above you, Jungkook’s gritting his teeth, his own pleasure being satisfied by you simply grinding on his dick, but the guilt from before eats at him, and he can’t focus.

He’s opening his mouth to say something before you get up, repositioning his cock at your entrance. You’ve had enough. Deciding to get over it. Get over the pain and ride his dick like you fucking need it to breathe oxygen. You don’t care, it’s happening.

Jungkook sees your determination, he is however, hesitant. The second his tip is swallowed by your lips, hes groaning, using every bit of composure to not thrust his whole cock into you and fuck you dumb. “Slow.”

It’s simple, his words, but they help. Tremendously. You slowly start sinking down, the easy part being a breeze, until you reach the familiar barrier and stretch of his base. He’s gripping your waist tighter than ever now, and you focus on his nails that dig into your skin as you lean down and capture his lips in a kiss.

Just to distract you.

You moan into his mouth when you finally get past it, smiling on his own lips.

Encouragement, thats all you needed. And despite the pain of the stretch, Jungkook’s own moans that spill into your throat distract you enough to start moving. “You’re doing so good. Im so proud-“

Your walls clench around him, as you gasp, head falling back when you sit up and detach from his lips as he fills you up completely.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, hands gripping your thighs. You finally pick up the pace, the ache from earlier soothing down a bit until its finally gone. And you laugh. You probably look so fucking stupid, but you laugh. Bouncing on his cock, the friction finally sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungkook’s always been fiddly. Being unable to keep his hands at one task for maybe no longer than five minutes. He decides his hands get bored of gripping your thighs, though they were really there so he kept his composure. Now they grab at your breasts, squeezing them softly, leaning up to lick the little nubs that erupt from between his fingers. And “Ffuck-“ It’s great. It’s fucking great. Because now you’re gaining confidence, his tongue just laps at them the same way he did with your pussy, and you gain speed. Satiating both of your pleasures.

Your plump ass bounces with each movement, soft slaps filling the otherwise quiet room. Jungkook of course, moves on from your tits to grab and squeeze at your ass. Perky breasts freeing from his hold and jiggling as you moved. He watches intently, letting you go at your own pace, and your heart just fucking clenches at it, he cares about you so much. Eyes dark with desire. “Yeah, babe.”

You go at it for a while, a mix of bouncing on his cock and grinding your little clit down on his stomach, before the pace suddenly is doing nothing to stimulate the throbbing in your core and before you know it he pulls out briefly, the loss making you whimper. And he redeems himself cause hes such a good boy. Gently flipping you around, helping you position on your hands and knees, pushing your back down into his sheets, which you also make a mental note of asking him what fabric softener he uses, and smoothing his hands down the expanse of your spine. He rubs the tip of your cock against your folds, fucking his cock there briefly before shoving it back into you in one quick move from behind.

“That’s it,,” he growls, his thrusts deep and relentless.

There’s something different about his movement now. It’s no longer slow. Calculated. It’s rather needy and rough, and you’re moaning obnoxiously, sure the neighbours are probably screaming into their pillows due to all the racket you two have made, but you dont care. Not anymore.

“Jungkook-“ He’s leaning down, hard chest pressed to your back. The proximity makes you blush, and the heat of his body envelopes your own, quickly making you realise how cold his room is.

His lips press against your ears, “Ugh, fuck” Deep, raspy moans travelling down them, and his thrusts dont lose rhythm. Not once.At all. His needy hands grab at whatever he can, your waist, your tits, briefly pulling on your nipples before he’s leaning back up and delivering a sharp smack to your ass. It’s light, though, as if he’s worried if you wont like it.

And you��re quick to show him you very much do.

“Jungkook!” His head is tucked into your neck against, lips lapping up at the sensitive skin there, your manicured fingers grab at his hair, pulling him closer, trying your hardest to balance on one hand, your body being thrown forward with every single thrust.

And of course, he’s teasing you again. Giving you a fat, wet kiss on your cheek before ripping away from your hold on his hair and slowing his thrusts down.

He watches your pussy just swallow up his cock up in awe, slowing down his thrusts. Slow enough to make you scramble around, thrusting your ass back against his hips. And he stops you. Because he likes to torture himself, but he also wants to hold himself back. Cause he knows he’ll regret coming now.

He switches it up after trailing kisses along your back, soothing your whines with them. Gently. His ever so gentle hands pull your little body up and rest your back against the mattress. Cock still tucked inside you. And he realises that moment on, that hes so fucking whipped for you. And it’s dangerous.

Not like he hasn’t been since the start, but still.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, spitting down at your pussy, just because, pulling out again. Chuckles at the whines of protest from you. Slaps the tip of his cock against your pussy until he cant physically handle it and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. You open your mouth, ready to protest until he pushes your back onto the pillows.

“Spread,” he commands, his voice firm but laced with desire. And you obey. Like a “Good fucking girl.” Your breath hitching. Confused when he retracts completely, only to widen your eyes when he’s arching his body down and getting so close to your pussy until-

“Fuck!” His tongue comes out, licking at your folds, lapping at your hole, his fingers join in to rub your clit in slow, torturous circles. It’s nothing different to the first time he ate you out, but theres something different in the way it feels. And you can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but decide you won’t dwell on it further when a particularly harsh suck is delivered to your clit. “Mmmhhgh-“ He’s moaning. Full on fucking moaning into your pussy, and you’re not sure you can handle tonight any longer.

You were close, so close, hips bucking against his mouth as you whimper his name. Grabbing at his locks, frantically tugging. You’re probably hurting his poor scalp, but you don’t care. And Jungkook? He looks like he’s absolutely loving it. Theres some movement on the bed, and surprisingly it’s not from your insistent squirming around, instead, Jungkook is grinding his cock into the duvet.

He goes at it for a bit longer. And for a millionth time tonight, you whine at his audacity to edge you…again! He presses one little kiss to your clit, and it makes the pink on your cheeks turn a darker red.

“Patience,” He pulls away before you can cum. You’re whining once again, at this point it’s all you can fucking do, but he’s quick to shush you. Moving you again with that same gentleness he’s had for half the night.

You’re now sat on his lap, except this time reverse cowgirl style. Now feeling extra confident, you slip his fat cock in your walls, moaning louder than ever tonight. Your close, He is too. You can tell by the way his cock slightly twitches inside of you. “So b-big.”

“Babe, fuck-“ Jungkook manages to get out. You don’t see the tortured expression on his face from how he’s been holding back this entire night, but you can hear it in his voice. And you start bouncing on his cock with a speed that you weren’t even sure was possible.

“Shit! Shit! Shit-“ Your hips are moving up and down with his now, and he can’t even keep up with the immense speed of your thighs clapping down on his. You bend down, grabbing on his knees for support, drooling onto them. You can practically see him smirking behind you ass he grabs at your ass cheeks like they’re fucking stressballs, watching them clap in his hands in absolute awe. A ring of white has accumulated under the condom, and the sight of your other hole just winking at him has him so tempted to just-

“Ah!” His calloused thumb starts rubbing at it, slow at first, but when your pussy clenches around his cock, he rubs at it rampant.

God this is so embarrassing.

You’re so fucking close. And at the worst timing ever, your knees start giving out, but Jungkook notices, and is also chasing his own release he’s been edging against the whole night, and he cant help it when he’s frantically grabbing your waist and pulling you back, your back now meeting his sweaty chest.

“Harder! Harder!” You chant between your gargled moans, he takes over, the speed of how you rode his cock just a few seconds is nothing to how fast he’s just jackhammering up into you now. “Fuck Jungkook!”

Wrapping his tatted arm around you tightly, his other hand is around your breasts, forearm pushing them up. You feel his frantic breaths and moans against the skin of your back, shifting slightly so your heads are next to eachother.

Jungkook genuinely has no fucking idea how he hasn’t cum. Especially when you turn his head to kiss him, even though you’re both practically moaning incoherent sentences that just sound like begs and pleas into eachothers mouths rather than actually kissing him. His arm moves down, rubbing at your little clit in fast circles, ignoring how his hand slips around occasionally cause of how wet you are.

You kiss him, shoving your tongue around his mouth, moaning into it. “Mmm, fuck Kook-“

The nickname slips from your mouth. And it seems to set him off, cause he’s looking at you properly now. Looking so deep into your eyes that you have to shift your gaze elsewhere. And before you know it.

He’s literally fucking drilling into your pussy.

“Say it again.” A spank to your clit.

“Kook!-“ Hands grab at your face again, holding your chin. Way harder compared to the gentle touch hes gotten you used to. Forcing you to look him in the eyes, making your lips pucker up in front of his as he pecks them.

“Cum on my cock like you were fucking born for it-“ He forces your gaze to your pussy, and that’s what does it, cause it finally comes crashing down on you.

“Nggghhgg! FUCK JUNGKOOK-“ He rubs at your clit even faster now, prolonging the orgasm that just rips through your whole body. His thrusts are relentless and he dosent stop, until he’s moving his face back to yours, moaning into your mouth as his cum spills in the condom.

He doesn’t slow down until you beg. Until you swear you see stars. But he keeps his cock tucked into you, practically eating your face at this point with short, little thrusts into your pussy. “Fuck.”

——

You’re lying on the couch in his shirt, the heat in his room finally starting to get far too uncomfortable, leading to Jungkook carrying you to the sofa. Not after cleaning the bed up by himself, insisting you sat awkwardly on his desk and watch. Not after he’d cleaned you up and hugged you obnoxiously tight until you had to tickle him for him to loosen his grip. Not until he calms you down with his lips against your scalp, leg tucked around his waist as if this was a regular thing between you.

And it probably is at this point.

The fabric swallows you up as you relax into the soft cushions. Jungkook’s in his own shirt, and his boxers, which—of course—look way too good on him, as usual. You feel like a kid playing dress-up in his oversized shirt and your own pair of his boxers that you borrowed. Your ruined underwear probably tucked somewhere between the mattress and his unsurprisingly boring headboard. You know it’s ridiculous, but you’re too comfortable to care.

The air is warm from the low hum of the AC, and the quiet around you is peaceful. Maybe too peaceful. It feels a little too… perfect. The kind of perfect that makes you want to take a deep breath, but you’re scared it might slip away if you do.

Jungkook’s lounging next to you, his arm casually draped behind your waist, his eyes half-lidded in that way he gets when he’s content. But you can’t help feeling like this is too much. Too close. Too perfect. Too… romantic. You start fidgeting a bit, your mind beginning to spiral, the weight of everything pressing in on you.

Your hand brushes against his chest, but your breath hitches for a second, and then you start pulling away, barely catching yourself before he notices. You feel stupid, but you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Jungkook, of course, notices anyway. His arm tightens around you, drawing you back in with that magnetic pull of his, but this time you don’t resist.

“Everything okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s that tone underneath—concern and attention.

You avoid his gaze, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt, like that might somehow make things feel less intimate. “Yeah, just… I dunno. It just feels… like everything’s happening too fast, you know?”

He doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he leans in a little closer, like he’s trying to read you, then grins that lazy grin of his. “You don’t have to worry about everything. Just be here. With me.”

You sigh, trying to hold onto the lingering unease, but it’s hard when he’s pulling you back so easily. You roll your eyes, trying to joke, “Okay, Mr. Perfect.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not perfect, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re close enough.”

You feel yourself relax against him again, but the uncertainty still nags at the back of your mind. And, just like that, he gets up with a small grunt, his muscles flexing as he stretches.

“Stand?,” he says suddenly, his tone commanding but playful.

“What?” You blink at him.

He doesn’t let you finish, hoisting you into his arms with a grin. You’re too caught off guard to protest, but the laugh that bubbles up from your throat is a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Jungkook, are you seriously carrying me right now?”

He just shrugs, his grin widening. “Yeah. You’re too cute to just leave on the couch.”

“Please. You’re just showing off,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile that sneaks its way onto your face. It’s ridiculous, and you’re not sure why he does it, but there’s something so undeniably charming about it.

“I could carry you anywhere.” He winks as if it’s just a fact. “And I will, if you want.”

You roll your eyes, though a soft laugh escapes your lips. He’s impossible.

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the counter. His hands linger on your hips as he lets you settle, and you don’t even realize you’re already relaxing again until he turns around to grab his toothbrush.

“Hang on, I’ll get something for your makeup, and the paint.” he says, rummaging through the drawer. His eyes light up as he pulls out a tissue and water. “This work?”

You stare at him, trying to keep a straight face. “Water and a tissue?” You can’t even hide the laughter that bubbles up. “Are you seriously offering me that?”

Jungkook looks sheepish, but there’s a spark of humor in his eyes. “What? I tried.”

You roll your eyes again, but it’s soft this time, affectionate. “Seriously, though, you don’t have any makeup wipes, or… I don’t know, a proper remover?”

He freezes, his face contorting slightly as he remembers something. “Wait.” He digs around in the cabinet and finally pulls out a bottle of micellar water. “I forgot I had this. Don’t judge me.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh. “You’ve got a skincare collection, but not makeup remover?”

He shrugs with a grin, still not admitting he’s been slacking on the basics. “I take care of myself. Just didn’t think to get wipes.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Sure, because micellar water is so much better.”

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls the bottle open and starts using it on a cotton pad. “Fine, laugh it up. But It’ll still make sure your skin’s clean.”

You watch him, the familiarity of the moment bringing warmth to your chest. It’s domestic, sweet. In a way, you don’t even realize you’ve fallen into this routine with him. It’s easy, natural.

“I’m gonna steal your skincare someday,” you say, the words light but carrying a promise.

“Not unless you want to use my stuff forever.” His eyes are playful, though, as he pulls his shirt off and starts getting ready for bed. “I’ll keep you stocked.”

You stand in front of the mirror now, legs still wobbly, cotton pad in hand, gently wiping away the last traces of your makeup and the paint from earlier, The micellar water is cool against your skin, a grounding sensation, but there’s still an unshakable hum beneath your skin, a leftover buzz of adrenaline, of him.

Jungkook has discarded his shirt in the laundry basket, leaving him in just his boxers, and yet, somehow, he still looks so put together—so effortlessly beautiful. His bare chest is still slightly pink, flushed over from exertion, from being pressed against you for so long, and his damp hair falls over his forehead in soft waves. You can feel him staring before you even lift your eyes to the mirror, and when you do, his gaze is heavy, unreadable.

It’s not like he hasn’t looked at you before. He does it all the time, with that same quiet awe, like you’re something rare, something he can’t quite believe is real. But there’s something different about it this time. The way his brows twitch ever so slightly, the way his lips part like he’s about to speak, like he has something to say but doesn’t know if he should. There’s something behind his eyes, something dark and guilty, and for a second, you think he might actually say it. That thing, whatever it is, that he’s holding back.

“What?” you ask, voice quiet in the stillness.

“Nothing,” he says, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Then, before you can question it further, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His touch is warm, grounding, and he holds your hand like you’re something delicate, something precious, something he doesn’t want to let go of. He leads you out of the bathroom, walking you towards the bed in comfortable silence, and when you reach it, he tucks you in as if you’re a child, pulling the covers up over you with such gentle care that your heart clenches painfully in your chest.

And then, he’s slipping in next to you, immediately wrapping himself around you, pressing his body close, his arms caging you in. His nose nudges against your temple, his breath warm against your skin, and you don’t even think to resist. You just let it happen, let yourself melt into him, let him pull you in like you belong there.

There’s something about the way he’s holding you tonight. It’s different. He’s always touched you like he wants to, like he enjoys it, but this—this feels like something else entirely. It feels desperate, like he’s trying to commit the feeling of you to memory, like he’s afraid he’ll never get to do this again. His hold is just a little tighter, his touch lingering a little longer, his fingers brushing against your forehead in slow, absentminded strokes. And then there’s the way his lips hover over your skin, like he can’t help himself, like it’s in his nature to always be kissing you.

Your heart stutters.

Jungkook’s is racing.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is steady against your palm, but underneath it, his heartbeat is erratic, fast, too fast for someone who should be relaxed.

Jungkook can feel everything. The warmth of your palm against his chest, the soft, absentminded way your fingertips trace over his skin like you’re trying to understand the way his heart beats. It’s fast—too fast—and he knows you can feel it.

And then there’s you. The way you’re looking at him, brows slightly furrowed, eyes searching his face with something gentle, something questioning. Concern. It makes his stomach twist, makes his throat tighten, because you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him.

He shouldn’t be selfish.

He shouldn’t be holding you like this, keeping you this close, memorizing the weight of you against him like it’s something he’ll have to remember later. But he is. And when your fingers press a little more firmly against his chest, when you whisper, “Why is your heart beating so fast?” he nearly tells you.

Nearly.

He bites down on it, swallows back the words that threaten to spill, the truth that sits heavy on his tongue. Because if he tells you now—if he tells you that time is slipping through his fingers, that he doesn’t know how many more times he’ll get to have you like this—you’ll look at him differently. You’ll ask questions he’s not ready to answer.

So instead, he exhales slowly, forcing his body to relax beneath your touch. And then, finally, he settles on something—something softer, something safe.

“Guess I’m just trying to hold onto this.”

The words are quiet, slipping into the space between you like a secret, like something unspoken that neither of you are ready to pick apart.

Your fingers still against his chest. There’s a pause, just long enough for him to know you’re thinking about it, that you’re trying to make sense of what he means. But then you blink up at him, and whatever question was about to form in your mind, it passes.

“Dramatic much?” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, something light, something easy—something to make sure you don’t linger on it for too long. “You love it,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against your temple before pulling you closer.

And just like that, you let it go.

You don’t think about the way he looked at you in the bathroom, or the way his fingers linger a little too long against your skin, or the way his voice sounds just a little sad, a little wistful. You don’t think about any of it. You just let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself sink into the warmth of him, let yourself drift off with his heartbeat echoing against your palm.

Just like that, you press yourself against him, letting his warmth lull you to sleep, unaware of the way Jungkook keeps his eyes open just a little longer, staring at the ceiling—holding onto this, just like he said.

And neither of you say anything else.

Because in this moment, in this quiet, tangled-up mess of limbs and longing, the silence is enough.

266 notes · View notes

diz-eaze · 1 month ago

Note

please please please can you please write more modern au scara x reader 🥺🥺🙏🏻🙏🏻 feed… me…. a continuation of the latest one where he uses technology to stalk reader and become their roommate :3

luv ur writing!!!! it’s so humorous and lighthearted while still itching that yandere scratch idk.

even if u dont write a sequel just wanted to say i loved it <3 have a nice day

; thank u so so much ahhhh !! I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON MODERN AU SCARA TEEHEE (and just him in general... 4ever a scaranator). my indulgence is writing yanderes in a lowkey comical manner like yesss they are mentally ill but at least they're serving entertainment while you're in captivity !! like we honestly need more yanderes put into unserious-not-so-unserious situations <3 bc imagine seeing this one guy (scara) from your massive college campus being so deranged and unhinged about you and going... "wait,,, that's irl oomf??" NEGATIVE AURA I FEAR. anyways this isn't proofread bc I just barfed this out, so sorry for any mistakes! <3

; continuation to this post

; yandere, minor nsfw content, cyberstalker to roommate scara pipeline, gooner scara :D, half serious half silly, creepy behavior, do nawt be like roomie scara </3

additional yandere scara thoughts !!

an hour into being roommates, you convinced him to download snapchat just so you can have a snapstreak with him. he puts up a facade of being a nonchalant, cool, and mysterious guy (he consulted the online forums on what traits many people his age found attractive so now he's rolling with it until he's buried six feet under) so he cooly (not) rolls his eyes before taking his phone out. in your excitement, you crowd around him while he takes his time setting up an account (he's dying with joy inside bc !! ur so close to him !!).

you tell him upfront that this snapstreak shit is serious business for you and that you'd kick him out if he misses a day and he takes it so seriously, he would never intend to miss a snap from you in the first place, but your words caused him to lock the fuck in. so now every night, the moment the clock turn 00:00, trust and believe you'll receive a snap from him to continue your streak. it doesn't matter if you're awake or not, he is sending that shit asap ! (and yes, he does screenshot every snap you send to him and keeps it in a private folder in his gallery to look at whenever he hasn't talked to you in 3 minutes MAXIMUM.)

manifestations DO come true because now he's mutuals with not only your facebook account, but also on twitter ! life is a game and scara is a winner at it. he keeps his dump accounts a secret from you, it's for the better because if you looked at it, you'd send him away to a psych ward and, well, he doesn't want to be separated from you.

your facebook account is a private account, so scara couldn't infiltrate it back then. but the moment you accepted his friend request post-roommates era, the floodgates had opened. that night, he impatiently waited for you to retreat to your room so that he can eagerly and peacefully scroll through your entire account from most recent to oldest. he stayed up all night just screenshotting and saving any pictures you posted to his 3053 terabyte storage computer. he makes it his life mission to max the computer storage with every bit of information he can find on you, both internet and real-life (he documents it down the moment you look away from him).

inside his dump account on twitter, he retweets the mush gushy tweets that are like, "me and my partner don't argue, they tell me to shut up and I do" knowing damn WELL he's not in a relationship with you. but that's okay. because this is him manifesting you into making it happen. also randomly posts pictures of you accidentally falling asleep on the couch mid-study session with the caption, ":) so cute" ... ok!! this jackass thinks he's boyfriendcore 😂😂😂 like no put down that phone because you belong in a mental asylum sir.

he doesn't use reddit anymore because one time, he vaguely described your personality in a post of him asking for help to romance you, and some random in the comments called you unsavory names. he crashed out so bad that he called up his estranged mother (ei) just so he could get the connections to doxx them and ruin their life in the same breath. he hates it when other people perceive you because, in his head, they're severely mischaracterizing you as a person.

HE DEFINITELY TERRORIZES YOUR INSTRAGRAM NGL !! every morning, without fail, you wake up and find that some anonymous user is viciously yearning for you in your NGL confessions, and every time, you shrug it off because you think it's one of your friends playing a prank on you. "I want to be the towel you used earlier during your P.E class. I'm so jealous, I wished it was me licking your sweat away :(", "can you chew me the way you chewed on the cap of your pen.", "I love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you." ...err, how about we take a step back? :). but no. it's actually your roommate who sits across from you while you eat breakfast together. he definitely throws up in jealousy when he sees you post an NGL confession that he did NOT write !! the only yearner allowed in your life is him btw. it's the only morally correct answer.

during the dark times (pre-roommate era), a tale as old as time, but scara definitely used pornhub to jack off to anyone that resembled you and !! closed his eyes while doing so because in his head he truly just envisions him and you in the place of the actors. he was in so deep into it, he made an excel sheet that categorized actors based on how close they were to looking and acting like you. sigh. he no longer does this now that he's in such close proximity to you, just being in your presence alone supplies him with enough goon material to last him through the entire month.

small freakymouche interlude

entering true freak territory, cyberstalker-era scara was definitely so thirsty for you (i mean. he still is). sometimes, jerking off to porn that contain actors that resemble you isn't close to enough, he actually needs you. and looking at your LinkedIn profile would normally set him off the edge, but even that won't cut it occasionally. some days, he jerks off for hours - fist pumping his cock repeatedly, desparately, yet he's never able to come because he hasn't seen you in any of his classes yet :( but when he does... oh. You probably only shared one (1) class with him, and there's a chance you didn't even sit near him at all - but archons, just seeing you in real-life with his own eyes and not through the screen of his phone is enough for his dick to harden up. he quickly excuses himself 15 minutes into class so that he can have an emergency jerk session in one of the bathroom stalls. heavens forbid if you greet him that day because now he's doubling his jerk session just from your voice alone.

One time, he was aimlessly scrolling through his facebook timeline when one of your mutual friends posted a beach outing picture with your body being so exposed in ways he never thought he'd actually see (err, view). the way the golden sunlight only served to make your body seem so heavenly, so utterly temping - he started salivating. he almost detached his dick off of his body from how hard he was beating it that day :( that (cropped) group photo is still one of his top faves and he still looks at it every night before he goes to bed.

roommate scara is still working up the courage to one day sneak into your room while you're out so that he can obtain high-quality goon material. but for now he'll settle for accidental touches (that he definitely did NOT plan). one day, he swears it on EVERYONE'S soul.

there's a piece of sock you left behind in the living room and never saw again. when asked about it, scara will shrug and say he doesn't know where it could be. you assume you must have accidentally thrown it away during landry session. in reality, his dick has violated your sock so much it's become so crusty and icky.

speaking of laundry... roommate scara is definitely a loyal volunteer of doing both his and your laundry due to his... personal agenda. said agenda involves him inhaling every piece of worn clothing you have until he memorizes it before throwing it onto the washing machine. it's definitely his second favorite chore to do.

his favorite chore to do is washing the dishes !! this is because he licks all the utensils you used and even licks off any spare sauce, rice, noodle, etc. left behind on your plate :) this way, you're indirectly kissing him <3

but it's okay if he's gooning 24/7, because he's gooning out of affection. he's doing it for the love of the game !

closing thoughts <3

scara would very much rather shoot his foot with a gun than let anyone inside your shared living space. he's the ultimate gatekeeper. he claims he simply doesn't want anyone intruding his peace but he's just derangely jealous I fear.

scara runs LAPS around your dorm the moment you're even a MINUTE late from the time you told him you'd be home by. oh, it's 7:31PM even though you told him you'd be at the dorm by 7:30PM? yeah, your phone is going to get blown up by his spam messages.

he already planned out your entire marriage and vows in his mind. even has it saved on a google doc.

343 notes · View notes

silencesscreams · 1 year ago

Text

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

#lila writes #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter smut #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #marauders x reader #silencesscreams

2K notes · View notes

beiasluv · 1 year ago

Text

don’t you ever grow up | l. norris (4)

yourinsta’s story | landonorris’s story

maxfewtrell’s story

landonorris: you didn’t have to fact check me mate.

: no one or carlos is buying it mate, we know you’re just making excuses to spend time with yn

landonorris: not necessary to point out, at all 🙄

: of course

yourinsta: drive safely 😬

: he definitely arrived in one piece

yourinsta: good. McLaren still needs him.

: and you too?

message was not sent

: right away 🫡

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 25,926 others

f1gossips following the appearance of her son in the instagram story of landonorris, yn ln was spotted in the mclaren garage this morning.

credit to the video owner on twitter

view all 8,619 comments

username MOTHER (literally) is back in town

username Zak rn: 🧍‍♂️

username NO cause literally everytime she’s back in the paddock the whole team starts to work again 😭

username petition for yn to stay the whole season rn

username I miss archie with danny ric 😔✊

username IKR danny raised my boy

username NAH DONT DISCREDIT LANDO

username lando was the best uncle, fight me 🤷‍♂️

username i would never forgive what mclaren did to daniel ric, fight me 🤷‍♀️

username I’m sure Oscar’s going to be a great uncle as well 😔

username Y’ALL SEEN MAX FACT CHECKING LANDO? 😭

username rizz up that baby mommy‼️‼️

username carlos, once again, the scapegoat

username new here, Archie’s her son??

username yep. I’m guessing that she’s a single mom, we don’t know who the dad is

username she don’t need no man, SLAYYY

yourinsta

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 281,146 others

yourinsta congratulations to both of you!! the team is proud of you guys! honored to finally witness it first hand this time!! landonorris oscarpiastri 🧡🙌

view all 86,251 comments

oscarpiastri thank you! 👊 back to you

liked by yourinsta

landonorris thank you! 🍀🧡

username WHAT DID I FUCKING TOLD YOU?

username PETITION TO MOVE YN TO GARAGE FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON

username y’all are delusionalll the cars were meant for susuka

username DONTT CAREEE

username clover leaf. not slick LANDO

username ‘lucky charm’ my ASS

yourinsta

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 95,267 others

yourinsta thank you uncle lando!!

view all 26,972 comments

landonorris anything for the favorite driver title! 👊

danielricciardo not fair, I brought him snacks

yourinsta so it WAS you

danielricciardo maybe 😬

mclaren favourite boy on the grid!!

liked by yourinsta

username I LITERALLY SAW HIM TODAY WITH YN!! too cute 😩

username HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMM

username girly I would pay anything to be archie

username anyone coming back to this post after her sighting today 😭

username me 😔✊

username he grew up too fast

username I can’t BELIEVE that this was already one year ago

username ARCHIE STOP GROWING 😭

1 year ago

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 286,620 others

landonorris drivers by day, professional babysitters for life 👊

view all 107,269 comments

yourinsta thank you guys! dinner’s on me 🫡

landonorris anytime!

danielricciardo when’s the next time?

maxverstappen see you at p’s birthday 👊

carlossainz55 I have presents from spain 😄

yourinsta miss calos! -arch

yourinsta thankie!

liked by carlossainz55

username shut upp 😭😭 archie and p are best friends??

username i think they got to know each other through lando

username SHUT UP that’s fucking adorable my heart 😔😩

username it’s probably because they’ve spent so much time together at the paddock 😔🥺

username kudos to lando and everyone respecting yn’s decision to keep archie private

username i WOULD literally show off my son if he has lando, daniel and the whole grid as his uncles

username she’s protecting her child 🤷‍♀️

username ikr people. she’s not exploiting her child

yourinsta’s story

yourinsta

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 102,971 others

yourinsta summer break!

view all 26,071 comments

danielricciardo how’s arch doing! love from aus!

yourinsta hi danny! miss you! -arch

danielricciardo aw bud! miss you too! tim tams are on their way!

yourinsta i love you but i cannot go through the Tim tams phase for breakfast, lunch and dinner again 😭

danielricciardo one pack? 🥺

yourinsta fine😔

charles_leclerc nice to see you in monaco! maman looks forward to see you both again soon!

yourinsta thank you! it was nice meeting her, glad she loved arch 😊

username I AM SO JEALOUS OF ARCHIE WHAT?? HE KNOWS THE LECLERC AS WELL 😭

username SO NO ONE is talking about her story.

username lando, you’re acting fishy ASF

username the flowers, even inviting her to monaco for the summer break? yeah, that’s obviously what drivers and their engineers do right?? 😩

username MAX tell us something WE DONT KNOW

username he thought he was slick by giving the flowers though archie huhhh? well played, lando

username I feel bad asf for oscar 😭

username shut UP oscar definitely ships them so bad

username EVERYTIME she appears in McLaren challenge, oscar just exits 😭

username lando, this is your warning cus yn is for the girls ‼️‼️

username IKR?? she has been slaying as a icon for so long, and I can’t handle the thought of her being with lando 😭😭

username let her be happy with who she wants? PEOPLE

username he is no longer going to be ‘uncle’ lando 😭😔

username GOOD DAY FOR ME 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I’m sure they are mature enough 🤷‍♀️ she has been through archie's dad before. miss girl should know what she wants

username PREACH BESTIE

lando.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 384,281 others

lando.png back to the seas 👊 yourinsta

view all 96,281 comments

yourinsta thanks for babysitting! 🤭

lando.png always 🙌

username he didn’t even bother to tag max and his friends LMAOOOO

username he’s got his priorities straight

username when’s the hard launch bestie.

username it’s coming, bestie, I COULD FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING BRAIN

username delulu is THE solulu, PREACHHH

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen and 986,267 others

landonorris sorry guys :)

view all 320,159 comments

carlossainz55 congratulations, mate 👊

username A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR THE SCAPEGOAT

yall ate the poll uppppp 🥺🫶🤪 slayed

if you liked it, interactions and COMMENTS would be appreciated!! if not, then yolo ig.

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

3K notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 7 months ago

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙talk soon! | PG10˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: pierre gasly x leclerc!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: jus fluff, play fighting, ignore any & all dates

summary: in which your brothers (especially one in particular) think they have a stake in your dating life

a/n: i loveee leclerc!reader fanfics & protective brothers so this is a smash for me

request!!!: a smau where reader is charles sister and he discovers she is dating pierre from paparazzi photos and he goes fully protective older brother mode but in the end he is happy for them

my masterlist

fc: various brunettes from pinterest

instagram ->

ynleclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc hiiiiii

view all comments

user1 hiii y/n

user2 hi y/n we miss you!

liked by ynleclerc

user3 the second pic ! ! ! !

user4 stop soft launching we wanna know who it is now xx

charles_leclerc you & me both...

user5 CHARLES?!

alexandrasaintmleux y/n! i miss you please let's do lunch soon

ynleclerc im there 🥹🫶

user6 soso cute

yourbff my beauty

ynleclerc love you

lilymhe ur too good at being cool

ynleclerc want some lessons? (im just desperate to hang out with you)

lilymhe please! (me too i miss you)

user7 WAG BFFSSSS

user8 y/n is so cool i wish i was her

arthur_leclerc where even are you right now

ynleclerc only paris

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

f1gossip

liked by arthur_leclerc, user6, user44, and others

f1gossip pierre gasly spotted in public with y/n leclerc for the second time this week at the french open... is it just me or do they look pretty cosy together?

view all comments

user14 they're cute but im scared

user15 arthur in the likes loooool

user16 Y/N HIDE!!!!

user17 PIERRE HIDE

user18 omg they're so cute

user19 they dont gaf about hiding 🙈

charles_leclerc Y/N TEXT ME BACK

arthur_leclerc this isnt her post cha

charles_leclerc @.ynleclerc text me back.

ynleclerc 😊

user20 HAHAHAHA

user21 free her omg

user22 i hope at least arthur will protect y/n 🫡

arthur_leclerc nah im staying out of this one.....

user23 ARTHUR!! HELP OUR GIRL

arthur_leclerc she did this to herself unfortunately

ynleclerc my phone is staying on sleep mode & we're fleeing the country as i type this

charles_leclerc y/n where are you i just arrived in paris

ynleclerc 🫡 goodbye all

user24 screaming

user25 not all this on an f1 gossip page HAHAH

messages ->

instagram ->

pierregasly posted a story

liked by ynleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

arthur_leclerc oh this is bold

pierregasly scared for my life lowkey

user26 oh u guys r too cute together

user27 wish i could see ur dms rn

user28 i wouldnt wish to be u guys rn 😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux just for the record, i support you guys 🫶

pierregasly needed to hear this, thanks

user29 she looks soo happy

user30 obsessed with u guys together actually

lorenzotl sorry about charles

pierregasly 👍

charles_leclerc count your days, gasly

ynleclerc 📍 valencia

liked by lorenzotl, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc holiday, continued

view all comments

user31 ugh she's living my dream

user32 hard launch?

user33 oh her brother's are gonna love this 😂

user34 charles hasnt even liked

alexandrasaintmleux u with the kitty 🐈 wouldn't expect any less

liked by ynleclerc

user35 obsessed w alexandra ignoring her bf's drama

lorenzotl hope you're enjoying 🏝️

ynleclerc the peace & quiet? absolutely

lorenzotl come home soon please

ynleclerc 🤔

user36 hahaha he's begging

user37 i jus know charles is insufferable rn

arthur_leclerc cue charles in 3, 2, 1...

liked by ynleclerc, pierregasly

charles_leclerc lovely! now call me back

charles_leclerc if you have time to instagram you can text me back!!!

charles_leclerc y/n?

ynleclerc dont worry cha, im safe 🫶

charles_leclerc proof please.

user38 wait why is this kinda cute...

pierregasly ❤️

liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc STAY AWAY FROM HER

user39 ...nvm

pierregasly 📍 brussels

liked by yukitsunoda0511, ynleclerc, and others

pierregasly what the lady wants, the lady most certainly gets

view all comments

user40 the third pic omg

user41 charles is not going to be happy.....

user42 SHE LOOKS SO HOT THO

yukitsunoda0511 very bold

pierregasly too bold?

yukistunoda0511 i'll let charles be the decider of that...

flavy.barla oh y/n is so beautiful <3

pierregasly i know right?

ynleclerc oh im blushing now 🤭

user43 oh to be y/n

user44 giggling at this post & im not even y/n

user45 same omg even jus the caption ...

user46 this is soo pinterest mood board

yourbff holiday goals (gf goals)

liked by pierregasly, ynleclerc

landonorris 👀

ynleclerc THIS IS NOT FOR YOUR EYES

landonorris 👀

pierregasly lando, no.

landonorris 👀

ynleclerc im calling charles

landonorris WAIT NO

lorenzotl oh no

arthur_leclerc run, hide, take cover, etc. etc.

charles_leclerc what the

charles_leclerc WHAT IS THIS

messages ->

instagram ->

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

liked by pierregasly, ynleclerc, and others

user47 sooo cute

user48 favs omg i love their friendship

user49 is y/n back in monaco!! 👀

user50 & where is charles hahah

arthur_leclerc is y/n home and hanging out with you first?

alexandrasaintmleux ...no comment

arthur_leclerc oh charles is gonna be happy 😃

charles_leclerc ????

alexandrasaintmleux salut mon amour 🥰

charles_leclerc return my sister to me please

alexandrasaintmleux oui oui she's coming home 🫣

messages ->

instagram ->

ynleclerc 📍 monte carlo

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc balance has been restored ✨

view all comments

user51 the second pic ahahahah are they being held hostage

ynleclerc you cant see her but alex is off camera with a gun

user52 omg y/n 😭😭😭

yukitsunoda0511 so no more comment section arguing? 🤨

ynleclerc this i can't guarantee unfortunately

yukitsunoda0511 oh dont worry, we all love the drama

ynleclerc 🤨

user53 HAHAH one of us one of us

user54 i actually love them together

user55 TOO CUTE

user56 forever a ferrari girl omg🥹🥹🥹

liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc

alexandrasaintmleux finally 💞

ynleclerc you're telling me !!!

user57 sisters in law🥹🫶✨

arthur_leclerc disappointed. i love when you & charles are arguing

ynleclerc pot stirrer.

charles_leclerc very mature of you art.

user58 hahah how often do they argue omg

charles_leclerc i guess ur still my favourite sister

ynleclerc im ur only sister

charles_leclerc so?

ynleclerc i should always be ur favourite sister

charles_leclerc well sometimes you arent

lorenzotl ENOUGH PLEASEE!!!!

user58 HAHAH arguing again omg

user59 the most sibling siblings i've ever seen

pierregasly love you & your (crazy) family 🩷

ynleclerc love you for accepting me & all my baggage 🫣🫶

THE END 🩷

1K notes · View notes

the-winter-spider · 6 months ago

Text

Invisible | Part Two

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: unrequited love, self doubt

A/N: I dont do taglists they stress me out sorry 🫶🏻

Part One

The next morning, you’re yawning over a mug of coffee when Natasha walks into the cafe, a knowing glint in her eye as she slides into the seat across from you.

“Long night?” she asks, eyeing the bags under your eyes.

You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Just the usual. Bucky brought up Kate, though.”

“Ah.” Nat nods, her gaze softening. “And how do we feel about this Kate?”

You stare at your coffee, stirring it unnecessarily. “She’s… perfect. Of course. Just what he’d want.”

Nat sighs, leaning in. “Look, I get that you’ve been telling yourself he’ll come around, but maybe it’s time to look out for you instead.”

“I know,” you say quickly, but Nat raises an eyebrow, not letting you off the hook so easily.

“Do you?” she presses. “Because staying with him, being his friend while you wait for him to suddenly wake up one day and realize how he feels about you… that’s not fair to you babe.”

You blink down at your coffee, her words digging deeper than you want to admit. “But I can’t just walk away from him.”

“Maybe you don’t have to walk away completely,” she says gently, “but sometimes, you’ve got to put yourself first. Even if that means some distance.”

The thought of moving out feels like tearing away a piece of yourself. This apartment, these late nights with Bucky, the little rituals and inside jokes… they’re home. But the idea of watching him bring Kate deeper into your world, of hearing about every date, every moment, knowing you’re just a friend—that thought feels like something you might not survive.

You nod, though you’re not sure if it’s to Nat or to yourself. “I’ll think about it,” you say, more to fill the silence than anything else.

Nat gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just remember, you’re not invisible, not to everyone.”

Natasha’s fingers drum lightly on the table, her gaze fixed on you with that discerning look she wears when she knows you’re holding back. “You know,” she starts, her voice almost playful, “I could set you up with this guy I know from work. He’s got that ‘I could kill you with my pinky but won’t’ vibe. Smart, good-looking. You’d like him.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Nat, no offense, but I don’t need a pity date right now.”

“Who said anything about pity?” She smirks. “I just think you need a distraction. You deserve someone who’s actually looking at you.”

Her words hang in the air, and though you try to brush it off, the weight of them settles on you. “Maybe,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “It’s just… Bucky’s been in my life for so long. It’s hard to picture letting anyone else in.”

Natasha’s expression softens, understanding in her eyes. “That’s the thing with comfort zones—they feel like safe havens, but they can also be prisons. And I don’t think you want to be locked in a place where you’re always second to someone else.”

Your heart aches at the truth of her words, but you manage a half-hearted smile. “When did you get so wise?”

She rolls her eyes, pretending to brush imaginary dust off her shoulder. “I’ve always been wise, you’re just finally listening.” She pauses, then tilts her head, as if she’s remembering something. “So, tell me—why haven’t I met this Kate before? Didn’t we all go to the same college?”

You shrug, looking down at your coffee as if it holds the answer. “She and Bucky had one class together, last year. That was it. We never really hung out with her… or anyone he dated, really.”

Nat nods slowly, piecing things together. “So, she was part of your little world, just on the outside. And now…” She lets the sentence trail off, understanding that this is different, even for Bucky.

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling that ache return. “Now, it feels like she’s pushing her way into something that used to be… ours. My life with him.”

Natasha leans back, her gaze sharp but empathetic. “Maybe she is. But that doesn’t change who you are to him. And it doesn’t mean you have to let yourself be pushed aside. Just… remember, you’ve got people who see you, really see you.” She gives you a small smile. “Like me, and Steve, Sam and Wanda.”

You swallow, a knot of gratitude and sadness in your chest. “Thanks, Nat.”

“Of course.” She reaches for her cup, taking a sip before giving you another mischievous smile. “But I’m still setting up that date. You need someone who’s going to look at you like you’re the only person in the room.”

You laugh, but something about her words sticks with you.

Back at the apartment, Bucky’s in the kitchen, humming to himself as he attempts to cook. You lean against the doorway, watching him juggle the spatula and frying pan, the sight as familiar as it is painful. He catches you staring and flashes a grin, waving the spatula with a playful twirl.

“Caught you,” he teases, his blue eyes dancing. “What’s up, creep?”

You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, letting out a dramatic gasp. “Creep? Ouch, Buck.”

He laughs, his head tilting as he gives you that roguish smile. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He clears his throat and corrects himself, “What’s up, doll?”

There it is again. That name that no one else calls you—just him. And every time he says it, it feels like he’s pulling you close, holding you in his orbit. You try to ignore the way your heart flutters, pushing it down. “Better,” you respond, with a forced lightness, trying to keep things playful. “Just wondering how much of a disaster you’re about to make.”

He scoffs, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m a culinary genius.”

“Sure, and pigs fly.” You smirk, stepping into the kitchen to stand beside him, nudging his shoulder as he focuses on flipping whatever’s in the pan.

He rolls his eyes, but there’s that look again—the one that feels like he’s studying every detail of your face, like he’s seeing you as more than just his best friend, even if it’s only for a second. “Seriously, though,” he says softly, his gaze meeting yours, “thanks for putting up with me, couldn’t ask for a better best friend.”

You swallow, feeling that flicker of hope you know you shouldn’t hold onto, quashed in an instant. Best friend. You manage a small smile, not trusting your voice to sound casual. “Couldn’t ask for a better one, either.”

But even as you say it, you can’t ignore the ache in your chest. The line between you has been so blurred over the years, with the easy touches, the names he only calls you, the looks that feel like something more—until they’re not. Because he never seems to notice the way he lingers too close, or how his teasing feels like something deeper. Maybe, you think, it’s time to face that your friendship is just that: a friendship.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize Bucky’s speaking again until he nudges your shoulder, his voice low and warm. “Earth to y/n?,” he murmurs, breaking your reverie. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just… thinking,” you reply, smiling faintly as you avert your gaze. He leans down, peering up at you, an amused expression on his face, like he’s trying to coax you out of your thoughts.

“About me, obviously,” he quips, flashing a wink. “Go on, I get it—hard not to think about this face.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound spilling out before you can stop it. “Don’t flatter yourself Buck.”

He grins, reaching over and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a gesture so casual but so personal that it sends your heart racing. His hand lingers, his thumb brushing against your cheek for just a beat too long before he pulls away. “Can’t help it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me, doll.”

Your heart skips, and you force a laugh, hoping it sounds natural. “Get over yourself, Barnes. You’re lucky I even let you call me that.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, still looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room. It’s moments like these, the soft laughter, the playful teasing, that make you feel like maybe, just maybe, there could be something more—until reality crashes down with the way he looks away, casual as ever, turning back to his cooking.

“So, what do you say?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “We take off next weekend, you and me? Get out of the city, do something stupid?”

He says it so easily, the idea of just dropping everything and being with you. It’s the kind of offer that would mean the world if it came from anyone else, but with Bucky, you know it’s just him being Bucky—your best friend who doesn’t know the half of what’s inside your heart. You nod, forcing another smile, feeling like you’re breaking in two. “Yeah… sounds good.”

He grins, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a softness that makes your pulse quicken. “That’s my girl.”

The words are simple, tossed out casually as he stirs the pan, but they hit you like a punch to the gut. His girl. The irony isn’t lost on you—that’s all you’ll ever be. Watching him turn back to the stove, humming again, you wonder if it’s finally time to start protecting your heart, even if it means letting go of this impossible hope.

You stay quiet, watching him as he finishes cooking, every movement so familiar that it aches. The way he hums off-key, that little wrinkle in his brow when he’s focused. And yet, with each passing second, you feel the weight of Natasha’s words from the morning before. Putting yourself first. Even if that means some distance.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice when Bucky turns around until he nudges your arm, holding out a plate with a lopsided grin. “For you, my culinary masterpiece.”

You smile and take the plate, though you barely feel the hunger anymore. “Thanks, Buck.”

He tilts his head, squinting at you, studying you the way he always does when he senses something’s off. “What’s up with you, doll? You’ve been quiet.”

You quickly shake your head, putting on a brighter smile. “Nothing, just… tired.”

It’s a half-truth, and from the way he’s looking at you, you know he can tell. But he just nods, brushing it off as he leans against the counter beside you. “Well, you should get some rest, maybe skip that shift tomorrow. I don’t like seeing you so run down…plus its the 2nd Friday of the month you know what that means”

The concern in his voice stirs something painful in you, and you bite your lip to keep it together. Because it’s just like him to care, to look after you like this, but never in the way you want. You manage a nod and quiet “I know, bar night” not trusting yourself to say much else.

But Bucky, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, reaches out, ruffling your hair with that effortless smile. “I mean it, you work too hard. You’re allowed to take it easy sometimes, you know?”

Your smile wavers, and you look down at your plate, poking at the food to avoid his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

There’s a comfortable silence as the two of you eat, and for a moment, you let yourself forget the ache, just enjoying this small, simple moment. But then he starts talking about his weekend plans, and you feel the familiar twist of jealousy when he casually mentions Kate. How she texted him about some new art exhibit, how they’ll probably grab lunch afterward. Each word feels like a pin prick, a reminder that he’s drifting further away, letting someone else into a space that you’ve guarded for so long.

You take a steadying breath and look up at him, forcing yourself to speak casually. “So… you and Kate, huh? Sounds like things are getting serious..”

Bucky laughs, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Nah, I don’t know. She’s cool, but… you know me. Not exactly the settling-down type.”

The words sting, but you force yourself to smile. “Right, of course. Why settle when you’ve got the world at your feet?”

He chuckles, taking another bite, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. But then he glances over, catching the faint trace of something in your expression, and for a split second, his smile falters. “Hey… seriously, are you okay? You’re not your usual self.”

You force a laugh, waving him off. “I’m fine, Buck. Just… I dunno. Life, I guess.”

He watches you, a furrow between his brows as if he’s trying to piece together something he’s missing. And for a split second, you almost consider telling him. Telling him everything—that you’re tired of waiting, tired of pretending, tired of being his second choice. But before you can even open your mouth, he sighs and reaches over, squeezing your shoulder.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he says softly. “Whatever it is… I’m here.”

The tenderness in his voice is almost too much, and you have to look away before he can see the tears threatening to spill. “Yeah, I know….of course”

There’s another silence, and he finally pulls his hand away, turning his attention back to his food. You sit there beside him, the air thick with unsaid words, wondering how much longer you can keep this up.

When you finish eating, you start gathering the dishes, feeling the need to escape the kitchen, escape the weight of his presence. But Bucky stops you, taking the plate from your hands.

“I’ve got it,” he says, nudging you toward the living room. “Go relax, i’ll clean up.”

You give him a small smile, grateful for the reprieve, and you make your way to the couch, curling up with a blanket. But as you sit there, staring at the flickering light of the TV, you realize with a sinking heart that this—him, the late nights, the quiet moments—has become everything to you. And that maybe, no matter how much you want it, he’ll never feel the same.

From the kitchen, you hear Bucky humming again, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside you. And as you pull the blanket tighter, Natasha’s words echo in your mind: Sometimes, you’ve got to put yourself first. Even if that means some distance.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #bucky banres #bucky barnes x reader angst #Spotify

300 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 10 months ago

Text

Time Traveller AU part 7

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 8 is here!

"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.

You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.

No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?

No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.

You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.

"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."

"What? No. I'm coming with."

"Have you lost your mind?"

You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.

"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."

"But I-"

"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.

Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.

"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.

"I want Isabella."

"No."

"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"

"No."

"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"

"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.

"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"

"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."

"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.

"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.

"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.

"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."

Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"

You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."

Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.

"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"

"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."

"We can have it fetched-"

"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.

"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.

"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."

"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.

He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."

"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.

"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.

Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.

"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"

"Anything?"

"Anything." He assured her.

"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.

"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.

Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.

You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.

The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.

"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."

"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-

He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.

"Well? Hand it over."

"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.

Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.

"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.

Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.

"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"

You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.

It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-

"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-

A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.

You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.

Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.

Assassin.

"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.

The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.

"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.

The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.

"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.

As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.

You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.

Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.

Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.

And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-

You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.

You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.

The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.

You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.

Maybe you could bribe him?

"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.

You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."

He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.

He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.

"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.

"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.

Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.

Salauddin heard them before he saw them.

The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.

They're coming.

In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.

But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.

It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.

He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.

Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?

The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.

Do they attack now?

Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.

Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.

Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-

"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.

Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."

Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"

"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"

"Why are you here, Baldwin?"

Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.

"I'm here to meet my fiancee."

Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"

Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."

"Baldwin."

The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"

Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.

"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.

Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.

Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.

They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.

But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.

What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.

He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.

Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.

"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.

Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.

Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.

"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.

"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?

"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.

Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"

"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.

Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."

The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.

"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.

"The princess is gone."

There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.

"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.

"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"

The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"

"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.

The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.

Isabella.

"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-

"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.

"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.

"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.

Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.

"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.

"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.

Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"

Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.

"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.

"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?

Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."

The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.

Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.

Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.

That cretin was getting on his last nerves.

Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.

Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.

They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.

Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.

"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.

Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.

"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.

After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.

It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.

However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.

Your chaddar, lying on the ground.

You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-

You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-

You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!

Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!

"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?

You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.

You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.

You were locked in.

The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-

Abbas.

You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?

You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.

"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.

Wait. Circulation.

You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"

You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.

What in the-

The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?

No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-

NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-

The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.

Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.

Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-

Guy?

All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.

The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?

You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.

"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?

Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-

"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.

"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"

Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.

He thinks you and Abbas-

"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.

"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."

You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.

"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.

"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.

"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"

Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.

"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"

"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"

"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.

"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"

Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?

You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?

Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?

Enough is enough. You need to come clean.

"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."

Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.

"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."

"Lies! There's no proof-"

"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"

"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"

"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"

"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"

Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"

"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.

"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.

"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.

Thud.

You looked down to where the sound came from.

Guy's head dropped in front of you.

Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.

Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.

You could hear the ringing get louder.

Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.

He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.

Your consciousness finally gave out.

Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.

"Baldwin, she didnt-"

"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.

"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.

You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-

"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.

"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.

She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.

"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.

"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.

She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"

"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"

You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"

"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"

"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"

She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.

Wait, desert?

"We've left Egypt?"

"Yes-"

She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.

You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.

Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.

It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.

"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-

Or maybe he has decided to torture you.

"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.

Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.

"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.

Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"

"I never doubted you." He cut you off.

Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.

"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."

Your lips parted. What... what was he-

"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.

He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."

You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-

"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"

"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"

"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."

A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.

"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.

"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.

Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.

He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."

Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"

"I love you, Baldwin." You said.

His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"

"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.

Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.

Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.

The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.

Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.

And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.

Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.

But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."

"Traitor to the crown?"

He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."

He truly has thought of everything.

Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.

After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.

"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.

"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.

You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.

The key.

You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.

You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.

Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.

Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.

You turned to your side and closed your eyes.

Perhaps God saved me.

Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.

"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.

"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.

"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-

The ring.

"Its the-"

"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.

"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.

"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.

"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."

"Stressed? By what?" You asked.

"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"

You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."

"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.

"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.

Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.

Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.

You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.

But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.

You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.

Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-

Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-

Wait.

You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.

Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.

She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.

"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.

"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"

"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."

Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.

"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"

"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.

She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."

You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"

Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.

"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.

"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"

Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.

"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.

"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).

Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.

"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.

"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"

Isabella looked up, and she smirked.

"You have no proof."

You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.

"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.

She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."

"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"

You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"

"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."

Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"

"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.

"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."

Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.

"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.

It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-

The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.

"Baldwin, please give it back-"

"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.

"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.

"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"

Heaven? No fucking way-

"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.

"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"

Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.

Wait.

"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.

Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!

"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"

"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"

"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."

"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"

"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.

"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"

"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"

Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"

"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."

Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."

Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.

The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.

You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.

"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.

"No."

He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.

"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.

"No."

"I can help you-"

"No." You sniffled. "No one can."

The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.

"Abbas asked me to give you this."

You opened your palm to see-

A key.

The key!

But how did he make this? You never designed it-

You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.

Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.

"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.

"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"

"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.

"But there is no bathroom here-"

"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."

They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.

You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.

"Where are you going? I'll come with."

You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."

"Y/n-"

"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.

Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-

"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.

It didnt turn on.

No. No. No-

"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.

You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.

"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.

"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"

You banged on the machine, cutting him off.

The machine turned on.

You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"

You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.

The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.

So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.

Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁

PART 8 is here!

#yandere baldwin #yandere salauddin #time traveller au #baldwin iv #king baldwin x reader #the leper king #king baldwin iv #salauddin

2K notes · View notes