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chunksworld · 3 months ago

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Swim

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.

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You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—

“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”

Shit.

Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days.

It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju.

It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night.

“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?”

That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”

“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.

Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”

“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?”

Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking.

The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug.

Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.”

It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.

“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.

“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.

And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.

You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back.

You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now. She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”

Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs.

“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two.

You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.

Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.

“I want to see that cock. Now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.

Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—”

Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.

Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now.

Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.

“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in.

Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.

You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers.

Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure.

“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm.

“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone. “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”

“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you.

You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.

As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below.

Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.”

You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again.

Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.

She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”

Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.

“I guess I could be convinced.”

Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.

You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already.

“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet.

“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”

#izone smut #minju smut #kim minju smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

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i-cant-sing · 5 months ago

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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

tteotlma · 1 month ago

Text

Unspoken

to everyone he's the indestructible wolverine, to you he's just logan —

Bf!Logan/Reader (3.5kw)

a/n: I’m kinda over smut rn.. It requires too much thinking rn and I just want some love so…

tw: mild sexual content, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, mild language, domestic fluff

---

Everyone wonders how exactly you managed to bring the bad boy home to mom. Okay, not exactly, but close enough. When you started showing up around Logan, everyone was thrown for a loop.

"This is Y/n," he would introduce you for the first time at a group outing. He unknowingly blocked you from his table of teammates, so you put a hand on his arm to move him over.

Smiling brightly at the group, you introduced yourself as his girlfriend. Scott and Jean were stunned, while Ororo just smiled. She moved, took out a seat beside her, and patted it. You'd look at Logan, and he'd give a curt nod before saying he was going to get you both a drink.

As he left, he placed a small hand on your back, and you smiled at him before he walked away. Settling beside Ororo, you made yourself comfortable.

"Alright, alright, now tell us the truth," Scott huffed, stuffing his face with the complimentary peanuts in the middle of the table.

"I'm sorry?" Your eyebrows squeezed together, making Scott chuckle.

"So you're really his girlfriend?" he asked, while Jean gave you a careful eye.

"It appears that way, doesn't it?" You turned away just in time to grab your drink from Logan, taking a sip before looking back at Scott.

Logan had told you a lot about Scott and their complicated relationship - a sort of "I have to like you because we're family" kind of thing. You'd never held any resentment towards Scott, but you were aware that sometimes it could seem like he thought less of Logan.

Scott didn't say anything further, instead continuing to munch on peanuts and occasionally cracking jokes, flashing you his award-winning smile. The group settled into casual chit-chat, with Logan's body pressed beside yours despite sitting in separate chairs.

His arm slung around the back of your chair, his thumb occasionally brushing against your arm - a subtle reminder that despite all the people in the bar, you could freely focus on whatever, knowing he had you.

As the night wore on, stories and laughs were shared, the alcohol doing a good job of loosening everyone up, especially you and Logan. You were still at a point in your relationship where everything felt fresh to the outside, so the idea of PDA was still nerve-wracking. Granted, you and Logan had touched each other a lot, but that was always behind closed doors. In public, Logan preferred to be more of a guard dog, always standing over you wherever you went.

It never bothered you. In fact, you relished the fact that Logan never left your line of sight; he made you feel protected and special. He never pushed your comfort level, and vice versa. You were acutely aware of Logan's character flaws, and mixed with the fact that it had been years since you'd dated anyone, it was nice not having to force the physicality between you two - it came naturally when it wanted.

Like right now, the comforting atmosphere and lightheartedness had you leaning into Logan's warmth. Your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, and his arm slipped off the back of the chair to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in. His hand lightly tickled your side as you absentmindedly ran your nails up his denim-clad thigh, the repetitive motion and feel of the micro-grooves beneath your fingers keeping you grounded.

You tried paying attention to the conversation, but each time Logan laughed, your whole body would shake along with his, and the deep rumble of his laughter would erupt from his chest - a sound you wished you could melt into.

"So why are you with Logan?" Jean asked, her cheeks flushed as she stared between you and Logan, watching the way his fingers played with the fabric of your shirt.

You ripped yourself away from thoughts of your boyfriend and tried to focus on the question at hand. "I'm sorry?" you said, having heard the question but unsure how to answer.

"Why Logan?"

You shifted in your seat to stare at the beefy man beside you. He looked down at you, a small smirk on his lips.

"Why Logan..." you repeated, pondering how to put into words the way this man made you feel.

How do you even put into words the way this man makes you feel? As mentioned before you hadn’t dated in what felt like forever but with Logan everything fell into place.

Everyone at the table probably assumes that Logan would be the most dismissive lover ever, a taker not really a giver but oh boy were they wrong.

To you, it felt like you were the center of his universe.

Whenever Logan would spend the night, you’d always wake up to an empty bed. At first Logan would run out of your place as soon as the sun would hit but one morning when you thought you were alone you slipped into one of Logan’s shirts you had lying around and when you pad to the kitchen you find the giant man surrounded by a rush aroma of coffee. And it’s been like that ever since.

Whenever Logan stays over he’s always up before you. The smell of coffee wafting throughout the apartment coaxing you out of bed. Once in the kitchen there’d be Logan in all his morning glory, shirtless with sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips, pouring the hot liquid into your favorite mug knowing you’d never say no to it.

He doesn't ask how you take it, he’s never had to. He just places the mug softly in front of you as you sit on a stool and watches you take a sip with a small smile.

Placing the mug down, you return the smile, and like clockwork Logan rounds the counter, turns your chair, and places himself between your legs. Your hands find their place at his side as he holds your face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on your lips. These quiet morning moments are just one of the many things you cherish about your life with Logan.

But it's not just the gentle moments that make your relationship special. Logan's protective nature extends to all aspects of your life together, including the more practical ones.

There have been a few times you've come home thinking someone's broken in. Loud clanging could be heard as soon as you walked in. You grabbed an umbrella from beside the door and stalked quietly toward the sound. When you finally turned the corner down the hallway, you noticed the bathroom light was on. With the umbrella held tightly, you stepped closer to the bathroom. There you found Logan tinkering under the sink, the clanking sound coming from the metal against the pipes. He was muttering to himself, brows furrowed in concentration, his muscles constricting beneath his dark blue shirt.

“My handyman.” You tease, discarding the umbrella and leaning against the door frame watching him work.

Without looking back at you he says “Someone’s gotta do it, darlin’.” You let out a small laugh, before walking away to get him a glass of water. When you come back he’s finishing up.

He wipes his hands with a towel, and takes the glass from your hand.

“My hero.” You say, finding your spot against the doorframe, smiling up at him, eyes filled with adornment for the man in front of you. He just pulls you in close and kisses your forehead.

“Can’t have you dealin’ with this kind of thing.” He says.

“Oh but sir,” You feign innocence, a small smirk growing on your lips. “I don’t get paid until Friday,” You hook a finger in his belt loop giving it a tug. “However, shall I repay you?” You cock your head to the side, and Logan quirks an eyebrow before playing along.

“Didn’tya know? I take other forms of payment.” His voice is low as he grabs your hips guiding you backwards. You laugh as he quickly shuffles backwards into your room.

The both of you stumble onto the bed, and Logan’s weight presses against you just enough to make you feel deliciously suffocated. His eyes are filled with mischief as he hovers over you, hands resting on either side of your head.

“Oh my, what form of payment were you thinking of?” You ask, voice playful but becomes breathless as he leans in to nose at your neck, lips lightly brushing against the soft skin of your neck.

He chuckles slowly, “I think y’already know sweetheart.”

Before you can say anything he catches your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, making it clear how he plans to collect.

His weight grounds you, as the teasing is forgotten, replaced with a slow electric pull of desire. Logan’s hand skims all over your body, gentle but firm, reminding you that you’re his in every way that counts.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Now, ‘bout that payment.. Don’t think that was enough, princess.”

You bite your lip, giving him a coy smile as your fingers slide down his chest. “Well, I’d hate to leave a debt unpaid, Sir.”

Logan leans down to brush his lips against yours, his voice a gravelly whisper. “Then you better make it worth while, buttercup. I don’t do all this hard work for nothin’.” He teases.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. “Oh don’t worry. I always leave a generous tip.”

With a grin, Logan kisses you again, deeper than before. His hands continue their exploration as the playful banter gives way to something more intense, and heated. And just like that, all thoughts are replaced with only the two of you tangled up in each other, lost in the moment.

While these passionate encounters are exhilarating, they're not the only moments you treasure with Logan. In fact, your favorite kind of moments are often much quieter, born from the shared fatigue of long days and the comfort you find in each other's presence.

Your favorite kind of moments would have to be the days Logan comes over after a long day, the kind that left both of you feeling drained by the time the moon came over the horizon.

You’d flop onto the sofa as soon as you’d get home, letting the tension ease away from your muscles when five minutes later Logan opens the door, which you left unlocked for him.

Without saying a word he flops beside you, causing your body to follow the cave of the cushions and melt into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and he snakes his arm around your waist, heavy hand resting on your hip squeezing lightly.

“Hi Baby.” You whisper, caressing his face. He looks down at you with hooded eyes and gives you a small smile.

“Hi,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a soft, lazy kiss before pulling back and resting his head against the back of the sofa.

You hum contentedly, your arms tightening around him for a moment, the tenderness between you growing. Logan shifts beneath you, his large hands easily grabbing your legs, guiding them to rest over his lap. With a bit of maneuvering, he ends up leaning on his elbow, his arm still wrapped protectively around your waist, while you’re stretched out across the sofa, your legs draped over his, your bodies intertwined in the most comforting way.

He’s partially laying down now, with you tucked securely against him, and the gentle weight of his arm across you feels grounding, the two of you perfectly melted into one another.

“How was your day?” you ask softly, fingers gently caressing the back of his neck. Logan doesn’t respond right away— he instead lets out a low huff and buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Awe, the poor kitty.” You tease, patting his head lightly. Logan grunts, but the hint of a smile plays on his lips as his grip tightens around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah.” he mumbles, clearly too tired to give much of a response. You smile, allowing yourself to soak in the warmth of him, but after a moment, the thought of washing the day away crossed your mind.

You run your fingers through his hair one last time before sighing. “I should go shower,” you say, gently pulling away from him. Logan lets out a gruff dissatisfied grumble as you move to sit up, his arm still draped around you.

“Stay here,” he mumbles, a hint of a pout in his voice as he watches you sit up.

You chuckle softly, stretching as you stand and walk toward the bathroom. “You could always come with me…” you say casually, your back still to him as you head down the hallway.

Logan’s eyes follow you, and he huffs, pushing himself off the couch. “You know I’m not saying no to that.”

Before long, you’re both under the warm spray of the shower, the day’s exhaustion melting away. Logan stands still, eyes half-closed, letting the water run down his body. His skin glistens under the spray, rivulets tracing the lines of his body. You breathe in the steamy air, heavy with the scent of soap and Logan's own earthy musk.

Squeezing shampoo into your palm, its crisp herbal aroma cuts through the steam. Your fingers slide through Logan's hair, now slick and dark as ink. He leans into your touch, a low rumble of pleasure vibrating in his chest. His normally guarded expression softens, the furrows in his brow smoothing as your fingertips work small circles against his scalp.

Logan leans into your touch, his broad shoulders loosening as your fingers work their magic. The taut muscles beneath his skin gradually unwind, melting under the warmth of the water and the gentle pressure of your hands. You can feel the subtle shift in his posture as he surrenders to the soothing sensation, his breath deepening and slowing in response to your careful attention.

The steam swirls around you both, creating an intimate cocoon that seems to exist outside of time. You take your time, savoring the quiet vulnerability of the moment, your fingers moving with deliberate care through his hair.

"Mmm," Logan murmurs, his voice husky and low. "S'nice."

His eyes flutter open, meeting yours through the misty air. The look he gives you is unguarded, full of a tenderness that makes your breath catch. You continue your gentle massage, feeling the last remnants of tension melt away beneath your touch.

You guide him under the spray, watching as the water sluices away the soap, leaving his hair gleaming. Your hands trail down to his shoulders, feeling the solid warmth of him. The shower continues for a few more minutes, the rhythmic pattern of water creating a soothing backdrop.

Logan steps out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabs your plush robe from the hook and helps you slip it on. The soft fabric feels warm and comforting against your skin, still flushed from the hot shower.

Logan's hands linger for a moment on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Cozy?" he asks, his voice soft. You nod, enjoying the simple comfort of the moment.

As you make your way to the bedroom, Logan settles on the edge of the bed while you rummage through the dresser. You pull out one of Logan's well-worn t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, slipping them on. The familiar scent of him envelops you, a comforting mixture of cedar, a hint of motor oil, and something uniquely Logan.

Despite countless cycles through the washing machine, his scent clings stubbornly to the fabric. It's as if it's woven into the very threads, resistant to detergent and hot water alike. You breathe in deeply, savoring the aroma that's quintessentially him - a scent that speaks of strength, of safety, of home.

The shirt hangs loosely on your frame, soft from years of wear. As you pull it over your head, you're wrapped in an invisible embrace, Logan's presence tangible even in this simple piece of clothing.

Turning around, you catch Logan absent-mindedly rubbing the towel over his head. You can't help but smile at the sight. "Here, let me help," you say, fetching the hair dryer from the bathroom.

You plug it in and step between Logan's legs, gently taking the towel from his hands. The dryer hums to life, and you run your fingers through his hair as you work, watching it become soft and fluffy under your ministrations.

"Look at you, all fluffy," you tease gently, running your hand through his hair.

Logan's eyes crinkle with amusement. In one swift motion, he pulls you close, guiding you to sit across his lap. "You're one to talk," he rumbles, nuzzling into your neck.

You laugh softly, your fingers still playing with his hair. It's so soft now, and you can't resist running your hands through it again and again. Logan lets out a contented sound, almost like a purr, leaning into your touch.

Gradually, you both shift to lie on the bed, limbs tangled comfortably. Logan's arms are wrapped around you, holding you close like you're the most precious thing in the world. You continue to stroke his hair, feeling the last bits of tension leave his body.

The room is quiet now, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing. As sleep begins to tug at the edges of your consciousness, you feel utterly safe and loved in Logan's embrace. His breathing deepens, and you know he's drifting off too.

Few moments out of thousands flash through your mind as you sit at the bar, Jean's question hanging in the air. "Why Logan?" The memories of tender mornings, playful banter, quiet evenings, and the feeling of absolute safety in his arms all blend together, forming your answer.

You look up at Logan, who's watching you with a mix of curiosity and affection. The warm glow of the bar lights catches the amber flecks in his eyes, making them seem to smolder. You can feel the solid warmth of his body pressed against yours, his familiar scent - a mixture of leather, pine, and something uniquely him - wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You turn back to Jean with a soft smile, the taste of your drink still lingering on your lips.

"It's hard to put into words," you begin, your voice warm with emotion. The words catch in your throat as a flood of memories washes over you - Logan's rare, genuine laugh that always makes your heart skip a beat; the feeling of absolute safety in his strong arms; the tender moments in the quiet of the morning when he thinks you're still asleep. You open your mouth, ready to pour out your heart, but then you catch yourself. The intimacy of those moments feels too precious to share in the bustling, noisy bar.

Instead, you simply say, "Let's just say, when you know, you know."

The conversation moves on, but you can feel Logan's eyes on you, sense his curiosity. As you both leave the bar later, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth inside, Logan gently tugs your hand, pulling you close.

"What were you really gonna say back there, darlin'?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. His breath, warm and smelling faintly of whiskey, ghosts over your cheek.

You look up at him, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the softness in his usually stern eyes. For a moment, you consider telling him everything - how he makes you feel, why you love him. But something holds you back. Maybe it's the lingering effects of the alcohol, or the magic of the nighttime city around you, but instead, you stretch up on your toes and press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I'll tell you someday," you murmur against his mouth, feeling his lips curve into a smile. "But for now, why don't we head back to my place."

Logan's arm wraps around your waist as you walk to his truck, and you lean into him, savoring the moment. The unspoken words hang between you, a promise for the future, as sweet and intoxicating as the night air.

---

a/n: quick! somebody call a dentist -- i think my teeth are rotting,,

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eringobragh420 · 3 months ago

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🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian shares one of his darker fantasies, and his girlfriend is 100% up to the challenge. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Somnophilia (the interest in having sex with a sleeping person [in this case, NOT rape, consent is given]) oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum. 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I'll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @wrestlinginme Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

He’s had his hand on his dick for the last thirty minutes, leisurely stroking, not even half-hard yet, but he’ll get there. Lying on his side, he watches her silhouette in the darkness, breathing softly, muscles randomly twitching as she falls further and further into the land of sleep. His head is propped on his fist, dark eyes roaming her form from her hair spread out on his pillow to her jawline, shoulder, bicep, and the irresistible dip of her waist that leads to the curve of her hip. The sheet, tucked under her arm, is concealing a smokeshow of a body he knows to be mostly nude, save for a tiny pair of panties, and he has no idea why it’s taken him so long to get here. A soft snore from the beautiful woman beside him, and he no longer cares.

Gently, he relocates the hand from his bulging boxer briefs to her hip where he applies gradual pressure as his palm passes along the skin just below her belly button. She rolls in his direction, settling on her back just as he hoped she would. He kisses her neck, mouths her ear, paying close attention to the hot spot behind it. She smells so sweet, so fresh. He buries his face in her hair for a long moment, simply inhaling and exhaling. Inhaling and exhaling. He pinches the sheet between thumb and forefinger and inches the soft cotton down below her breasts. His cock spasms while watching her nipples turn to tiny pebbles upon exposure to the cold air, and he can’t help but lean forward and take the one nearest to him into his mouth. He eyes her closely, on the lookout for any indication she could be waking up. Finding none, he becomes bolder and twists his tongue around the nipple, sucking ever so gingerly. He looks up again—still no response from her.

What is it about touching a sleeping woman? Is it the power? The helplessness of the small female beside him? Or does he maybe want to feel like she’s his property? He doesn’t know. It’s been a fantasy for years, ever since he saw some guy sleep assault a girl on a porn site, but he’s never been comfortable enough with a woman to tell her about it, let alone ask for her explicit consent to touch her while she slumbers. But this girl’s different. After she told him she thought maybe she wanted to rim him—and he picked his fucking jaw up off the floor while adjusting himself at the same time—he let her in on one of his darker fantasies: his desire to fuck a woman while she’s essentially unconscious. To his utter surprise, she’d jumped at the idea, and after unequivocally granting him blanket permission to do whatever he wanted with her while she slept—adding, “I’m not sure how much you’ll really accomplish before I wake up,” and Damian instantly, mentally, accepted the challenge—she took it a couple steps further. He could do it whenever he wanted—she didn’t want him asking for authorization beforehand, she didn’t even want him to mention it after they ended their discussion. Aside from that, she’d taken the opportunity to remind him—with eyes the shade of obsidian—that she sometimes takes muscle relaxers.

She’d been sore all evening from spending the day at development, hinting every few minutes or so how much she’d love a back or a foot rub, or maybe he could massage her thighs? He’d feigned soreness as well, particularly his hands from weightlifting, and she scoffed her way across the living room and into the bathroom, Damian’s eyes following until he could no longer see her. A moment later, he heard the sound of a pill bottle, and a smirk grew on his lips. He could handle her anger for now because he knew exactly where the night was headed, and the pretty little thing gulping down two Flexeril had no fucking idea.

He reaches for her other breast as he continues to suck, softly rolling the nipple along the pads of his fingers. Her eyebrow flutters, causing him to reluctantly back off, though not completely. Testing the waters once more, he cups a breast and squeezes, his hips humping against her leg accordingly. She remains inanimate, and his smile is wolfish as he moves down her body, taking the sheet with him—kissing over her ribcage, licking at her belly button. He rises to his hands and knees, eyes focused on her serene features. Every move he makes now is calculated, deliberate. He hooks his thumbs under her panties, discreetly pulling them down her legs. A tiny wad of lace in the palm of his hand, he presses his nose inside and sucks through his nostrils, filling his senses with her primal fragrance. He tosses the material over his shoulder before maneuvering himself between her legs, stretching his long body behind him, and the bare lips before him are glistening.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, leering at his meal while skillfully arranging her legs over his broad shoulders. Her skin is like satin against his cheek as he grazes the stubble along her inner thigh. The closer he gets to her pussy, the more he smells her arousal, and his eyes roll back as he inhales until his lungs threaten to burst, much like his cock is promising to bust through his underwear, maybe even the mattress.

His tongue swipes across her bare, slippery lips, the flavor of her washing over his tongue, and his entire body jerks—in the space of a millisecond, he lunges forward to devour the best pussy he’s ever tasted, realizes his mistake, and successfully restrains himself, all of which results in a strong twitch. He stills, eyes rising haltingly, certain he would find her staring down at him. She’s blissfully comatose, breathing softly. Damian lets out a breath he doesn't realize he’s been holding.

He kisses her thighs, returning his attention to the masterpiece before him. His long tongue bypasses her lips, that familiar tang coating his taste buds once more. He focuses on the nub at the top of her clit, sliding down with the underside of his tongue, repeating the action several times before abandoning the licking for sucking. He pulls her ass closer to him, his mouth covering her entire pussy as he trades the sucking for licking again. He dips the tip of his tongue inside her, groaning as he laps at the source of her juices. Her hips roll against his mouth, and his eyes rise to watch her turn her head, moan so softly he’s not sure he heard it all, and there’s a brief smile on her lips before it disappears, she stills, and her breathing falls into an even pattern. Suddenly, a wave of her essence falls across his tongue, and he’s positive it’s cum, and he can’t do this anymore.

He unleashes himself from his underwear as he climbs into a kneeling position between this ethereal, vulnerable woman’s legs. He massages the spongy head of his cock along her drenched slit, head falling back, eyes closing. After a long moment, he returns his attention to her, guiding his dick carefully inside her. He expects her to wake at some point, now that he’s changed course from simply eating her out to having to fuck her out, but he has to know how far he can get before her beautiful eyes flutter open.

He can’t remember a time—after the first several times—he’s had to inch himself so slowly inside the tightest, wettest heat he’s ever felt. Christ, is he fucking dying? This is surely what hell must be like. Never being able to fully submerge himself inside a pussy ever again? Certainly sounds like damnation to him. Feeling a hand on his knee, his eyes open—when did they even close?—and her eyes are moving behind their lids. He pushes himself further inside her, and her hips lift, and he slides into place like a fucking puzzle piece.

“Fuck,” Damian whispers, cutting off a roar beckoning from deep in his chest. Her jaw drops and she sucks in a breath, eyelids trembling as they lazily open. Both her hands are on his knees now, squeezing them below her thighs as he holds them up with his own.

“Papí,” she breathes.

Damian’s cock twitches, his grin ravenous, and he hunches over to press his lips to her ear. Moments like this, he wishes he was shorter so they lined up a little better, but the thought is fleeting and unimportant. “Si, mi vida,” he rumbles. “I got all the way inside your cunt before you even woke up.”

“Christ,” she respires, nails scraping up his thighs, tickling his sides. She clutches his face with soft hands and pushes him away enough so their eyes can meet. Hers are wide now, brows knitted together. “I’m so fucking wet,” she all but sobs, “and you’re inside me, and I don’t know how any of it happened.”

Damian presses his lips to hers. She’s slow to react, and the lackadaisical way her lips and tongue massage along his is enough to make him come undone. “My mouth, baby girl,” he tells her. She blinks slowly up at him. “I ate that pussy.” She groans, arching her back, pressing her nipples to his chest, and there really isn’t much in the world he loves more than feeling those little pellets against his skin. “And you came all over my tongue.”

“Mmm,” she mumbles, ending with a soft giggle. “You love it when I cum on your tongue.” Damian’s eyes narrow as he watches her—how awake is she really?

“Mhmmm,” he agrees, nodding. “So I had to fuck you, whether I woke you up or not.” He thrusts, both of them sharing a moan.

She nods. “You feel so good.” She stretches her arms under her pillow, luring her boyfriend’s eyes to her breasts once more. “God, I’m so full.”

“Tell me what you want,” Damian says.

She nods again. “Please fuck me, Papí.”

Damian sits up on his knees and grabs hold of her legs. Gripping the undersides of her thighs, he spreads them so he can watch his cock as he pulls it out. The goddamn thing glistens in the moonlight, and he shoves it back in her pussy only to pull it out again so he can admire his artwork. She bites her lip, eyes closed. Her tits are bouncing now, and he isn’t going to last, because she’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, and sometimes, like right now, he can’t believe she even chose him in the first place.

It only takes a few more pumps, and he pulls out, stroking himself until he shoots load after load of cum onto her stomach, a few shots landing on her left breast. A satisfied sigh escapes her lips as she reaches down to dip her fingers in a pool of his cum, and Damian watches with hooded eyes as he catches his breath, and she brings those soaking fingers to her mouth. She sucks them behind her lips, keen on swallowing everything she can.

Damian collapses on the bed next to her, a pleased smile splitting his lips. She rolls over, tucking herself into his side, leg wrapping around his.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” she mumbles.

Damian’s arm comes around her, his hand settling on her hip. “It always is, corazón,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “It always is.”

🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Si, mi vida - Yes, my life 🎀 Corazón - Sweetheart

#damian priest x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #damian priest kinklist #damian priest smut #wwe #wwe x reader #smut #damian priest imagine #damian priest #damian priest fanfic #damian priest fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fandom #wwe smut

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fbfh · 5 months ago

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curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 9

wc: 3.2k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? apparently????

warnings: emotional damage!!! unusual behavior from ben, reader has a lil mini breakdown, reader is a just a tad autistic coded and has kind of a meltdown??? could also be read as emotional distress so interpret how you will

summary: ben gets weird during a tourney game and your gut is telling you something you probably shouldn't ignore.

song recs: twisted - aviva, cradles - sub urban, rabbit heart - florance and the machine, heads will roll - yeah yeah yeahs

a/n: YOOOOOOOOO IT'S GETTIN JUICYYYYYY. also our cat I mentioned in the an of chapter 8 has settled in well. he's so talkitive lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING HAPPY PRIIIIIDEEEEEEE~~~~~ BEEEEE WHO YOU AARRRREEEE FOR YOUR PRIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDEEEEEEEE

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE YELL AT ME IN THE NOTES AND ILL ADD YOU LOL

You take in a big lungful of the crisp, springtime fresh Auradon air as you crawl out of your rabbit hole and back into Overland. Roots and twigs and grass stick to your skirts, but you don’t mind much. You check your pocket watch in a panic, and scurry to the tourney match. You’re merely a pebble’s throw away, so you reach the bleachers quite quickly. Late, granted, but not too late. Not horribly, irreversibly, all-endingly late. You climb up to your usual spot in the bleachers, only a few seats away from the isle kids. Well, Mal and Evie, really, since Jay and Carlos are out on the field. You try to wave at the girls, but they seem much too preoccupied with the game to notice. You understand their fascination, tourney matches are simply addictive.

You yourself hadn’t been one for sports - aside from the occasional caucus race - that is, until Ben joined the tourney team last year. He must have spent every spare moment leading up to his first match trying to explain the rules to you with no luck, but the moment the referee blew her whistle, you were enamored watching him play. And it’s simply been that way ever since. No matter what it is, you know it will be a fantastical time if Ben’s the one playing. This seems especially true today.

Ben tears up the field like an absolute animal - no pun intended - and within minutes has scored yet another goal for Auradon. The Fighting Knights are pulling out all the stops, and through even your unwavering faith in Ben’s athleticism, it’s starting to look like a close call. You pull out a teacup from your bag, the china cool under your fingertips. It’s adorned with a white catchfly and chestnut print, but you don’t pay much attention to it.

Your eyes are locked on Ben as he races down the field, and you pour the spout of your tea pot shaped bag into the cup. Warm, perfectly brewed rooibos and nettle tea trickles from its spout. You shake it absentmindedly a few times, and some lemon slices and lavender sprigs fall in, floating atop the beverage. You take a sip of the warm, perfectly seasoned herbal tea, nearly choking on it as Jay drags Carlos across the field. You watch with bated breath as they move strategically, setting up Ben to score the perfect winning goal. The ball flies straight into the net, and you jump up, cheering and applauding, not even noticing the rooibos and nettle tea stain on your skirt. The crowd roars right along with you, applauding and cheering deafeningly while the announcer congratulates Auradon Prep on their win. Before he can even finish speaking, Ben grabs the mic from him.

You stop dead in your tracks, brow furrowed.

That’s not like him.

Not at all.

“Excuse me, excuse me!” Ben pants, still out of breath as he tries to get the crowd’s focus. “Can I have your attention please?”

The stands quiet as he speaks.

“There’s- uh, there’s something I’d like to say!”

What in the Knave’s good name is he doing? Your mind races, trying to remember if he’d said anything about something like this. Were there any speeches, any announcements, anything like that he was going to make after the game? You can’t remember him mentioning anything like that. Besides, he always runs his speeches by you first to make sure it comes across the way he intends it too. Even something as small as an opening statement or homework presentation, he always gets your feedback first. You watch the way his eyes dart around, the way he hesitates as he tries to figure out what he’s saying. Your stomach drops. He’s improvising this. This whole situation feels surreal. Most peculiar, and most definitely unlike him.

After another moment of floundering, he finally addresses the crowd.

“Give me an M!”

The crowd complies, shouting out the letter and mirroring the shape he’s making with his arms.

“Give me an A!”

“A!”

While the crowd complies yet again, throwing their arms over their heads in an A shape, your eyes fly over to Audrey. You’re afraid you know where this is going, even though it makes positively less sense than the most twisting turning riddles you’ve ever encountered in Wonderland. Your horrified, bewildered expression is the opposite of her hopeful one, and you realize you’re thinking the same thing. Your stomach sinks in a sick, twisting feeling. Your mind races in a dreamlike panic.

He can’t seriously be asking Audrey to marry him, could he?

There’s no way. There’s simply no chance that the Ben you’ve known for longer than you’ve been brewing tea would do something so… impulsive. Everything about Ben is calculated. Well thought through. Ben agonizes over each and every decision, he lies awake at night paralyzed by the potential consequences of each action, each choice not being thought all the way through and analyzed from every possible angle. If proposing to Audrey was even a thought in his mind, he would have told you about it.

There’s simply no other way. There’s no possibility this was even an option in his mind. Just last week when you had quietly implied that maybe he should consider ending their relationship, his silence spoke louder than any words could have. You had seen that. You saw it in his eyes. There’s no way he could be changing his mind that quickly, and not consulting you - or someone about it? You know you would have gotten wind if he even implied he was toying with the notion. Ben does not flip-flop. So what is… this?

“Give me an L!”

Audrey’s face drops. Yours floods with relief.

He’s not proposing.

“C’mon, I can’t hear you!” Ben calls out into the mic, hyping up the crowd. They yell Mal’s name again at Ben’s encouragement. You think you see where he’s going with this. It makes sense - Jay and Carlos each got a big starring moment during the tourney game. Now, Ben is giving a shout out to Mal and Evie so they can share in the glory, and won’t feel left out. It’s a brilliant idea, you realize, but you still can’t figure out why he didn’t plan something like this ahead. Did he realize last minute that Mal and Evie might feel excluded? It’s possible. And right now, it’s the most rational explanation you have for this unusual behavior. Before you can feel too relieved, he leans into the mic. You wait for him to instruct the crowd to give him an E, beginning to spell Evie’s name, and-

“I love you, Mal!”

Your stomach drops. You freeze again, brow furrowed more than before. The world around you spins as you stand in the crowd, disoriented. He says it like a deathbed confession, the words tearing from his throat. Through your confused stupor, you can hear the sincerity, the yearning in his voice.

What?

You don’t even think to look over at Audrey, but you’re sure as anything her expression is exactly the same as yours - completely and totally shell shocked. Probably moreso, you think, she is his girlfriend after all. But is she? Anymore, that is. You can’t imagine she would want to be after a display like that, after Ben publicly-

Ben…

Ben.

His gaze flicks over to you for a split second, not even long enough for you to silently ask him what the hell is going on. But it’s just long enough for you to see a flash of something. A look in his eye. Fear. Confusion. Everything you’re feeling for him right now. His attention is ripped forcefully back to Mal. Whatever was there, you can’t see it now.

“Give me a beat!” Ben demands overzealously to the band. They start playing something for him, something loud and fast. Ben begins singing Mal’s praises. Literally. You’re still frozen, sick with a cold, confused feeling that makes the world around you feel like a strange dream. Unreal. You begin to question if you are dreaming. Through your dazed state - which you only later realize has begun to be accompanied by hot tears blurring your vision - you could swear you saw Mal and Evie share some sort of look, whisper knowingly. They giggle. Mal pulls a zip top bag of cookies out of her jacket pocket and they both start giggling. Laughing.

A noise catches your scattered attention and you notice Ben has launched himself into the stands, crowd surfing to get all the way over to Mal. He climbs down, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. It’s so intense, so passionate, so unlike him to do something like that in public. You start to gasp, but you can’t. The stands are so loud, each noise feels like a gunshot deafening you. Your lungs feel like they’re being squeezed from the bottom up like paint tubes, gripped by an artist desperate for the last drops of cadmium yellow deep.

His hand rests firmly on the small of her back.

Just like it does on yours.

Something sickening twists through you, contaminating your heart and sapping away at your strength. Audrey’s voice cuts through, piercing and shrill as she announces to Ben that Chad is her boyfriend now. You see them kiss in your peripheral vision, eyes still locked on the way Ben’s hand sits on Mal’s back. He doesn’t seem to notice Audrey either, or at the very least, he doesn’t acknowledge her. Normally you’d giggle privately at how much that would irritate her, but nothing so frivolous crosses your mind just then.

“I love you, Mal!” Ben exclaims into the microphone. “Did I mention that?”

He leans closer, aching for her, needing her. But she puts her hands on his chest, trying to keep more distance between them.

“Mal,” he begs, panting as his breath fans across her face, his cheeks flushed. He grips her tighter, leaning closer until he’s practically dipping her. The crowd watches, shocked at the sight of Prince Ben - who is known for his diplomatic reserve and continuous composure - acting so bold in public. “Will you go to coronation with me?”

“Yes!” Mal’s response comes a little too easily.

You stare off into space in his general direction, choked with disbelief. You feel so frightened and confused and unwelcome. It’s a cold, isolated feeling of strangeness you’ve been running from since you could walk. You knew what people said about Wonderlandians, what they whispered behind your back when they thought you couldn’t hear. It was always Ben who made that feeling go away. He had seen the change in you, too. The more time you spent together since you were littles, the more he included you and sent disapproving princely looks to anyone who dared to tease you or make you feel like you’re not a part of Auradon, the more it started to work. He saw you relax, saw you believe him when he said he was happy to see you. He saw the shame and paranoia from accepting the fact that everyone around you was teasing you behind your back, spreading lies and rumors fade away.

Ben watched you grow into yourself the moment he showed you that you were safe to do so. Now, after ten years, that horrible feeling is back and Ben is gone. You turn, rushing out of the bleachers, hopping down to solid ground and turning underneath the stands. You’ve barely stopped before the world caves in around you, and the familiar scent of earth and night and the good kind of confusion envelop your senses, like a hug from your mother.

You fall down the rabbit hole, and you weep. Shamelessly, loudly, uncontrolled. Your tears fly off into the air above you as you fall, no longer afraid of prying eyes. You cry and cry, losing your sense of time and space as you fall deeper and deeper away from the world that never seems to lose amusement in stinging you when you least expect it. You take in a breath, but before you can let it out as another aching sob, you’re plunged underwater.

Your eyes flare open in the deep waves around you, the black void of a sky above. You kick yourself up to the surface, gasping as you tread the current carrying you downstream. The water splashes around you, getting into your mouth, and it’s salty. A stork sails by on a little wooden raft, adjusting her captain’s hat. “Well, that would do it!” She exclaims in a thick, Wonderlandian accent. “I was wondering what caused these high tides.”

She maneuvers her raft towards you and hauls you onto it, her gangly legs wobbling awkwardly as she keeps her balance. She pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and hands it to you, her long feathers tickling your fingertips.

“Dry your eyes there, dearie, or else we’ll be having to build a new dam!”

You sputter an apology, which she dismisses goodnaturedly, and begins singing a confusing sea shanty as she navigates the waves, coming and going as you try to calm yourself. After a few minutes, a particularly large wave pushes you two over the river’s edge and sends you spinning into the forest.

“Well, there you have it.” She says, taking off her cap and dumping out water, sand, a few shells, and a very irritable codfish. She unties the strings of her raft, gathering up the large sticks used to make it into a bundle, and tucking them under her arm.

“Quite useful, you know,” She says softly, before handing you a piece of nicely shaped paper. It reads The Two Blwo’s Shipping Survise. “And if you ever need something lickety split, I do hope you’ll give me a call.”

She tilts her hat and lopes off through the woods into darkness.

You plop yourself down on the nearest thing - a large, bioluminescent blue mushroom with little purple spots that makes a sound like a big deep drum when you sit down on it. Several smaller mushrooms varying in size scatter near the base of the one you’re seated on. As you pull your foot up to get comfortable, you graze a few of the litter ones, and let out different tones and types of drums too. Normally this would fascinate you. Normally you would be taking pictures, writing about them in your journal, and trying to learn how to play a song on them - if they’re in the right sort of temperament, of course. But today you don’t even notice.

Your mind is still spiraling, sucked down into a whirlpool of the day’s events. You go over and over what happened, hoping to make sense of it, but unable to really process anything. That was so strange, Ben is acting so strange. Why is he acting like that, you wonder. Did he hit his head? Has he somehow been possessed by a very extroverted poltergeist? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even make nonsense. Even in Wonderland, there are still patterns, there are still rules and motivations for doing things. Even if those rules and patterns don’t make sense to anyone else, they’re still real. Wonderland is illogical and absurd, but it’s not purely random.

You rock yourself comfortingly on the bouncy mushroom, the soft noise providing an ambiance that helps you start to think again. There’s no feasible pattern or non-pattern or non-pattern pattern to Ben’s behavior. If there were one, you would be able to find it, especially if you know him as well as you do. And you do. You glance down and see some beetles marching in a line, carrying leaf umbrellas to avoid any more falling tears. You wipe them from your cheeks quickly.

“My apologies.” You say, your voice polite and fragile. The head beetle chirps, clicking his wings and tipping his hat. He ushers the others past your mushroom quickly, putting their leaf umbrellas onto an umbrella leaf bush nearby.

A few bread-and-butterflies flitter over, carrying a tray of tea and cakes. They place it before you gently, brewing you a cup of blackberry earl grey with extra honey. You thank them, and they nod, flittering off and leaving a trail of buttery breadcrumbs as their wings flap. They land nearby, listening to you mutter to yourself as the line up to form a loaf. The tea and cakes are delicious, full of jam and honey, and they steady your nerves. You take in another breath, less shaky this time, and begin to think. Not panic, really think.

“There has to be a reason,” you mumble out loud, “There simply has to be. Ben doesn’t just lose his composure like this. He’s not devoid of sensibilities and decision making. He’s worked so hard to hone his reputation as someone trustworthy, someone full of common sense and compassion, and that… being that person for Auradon is everything to him.”

You place down your tea cup firmly, brow furrowing as your confusion melts away to determination.

“Everything! He would never do something so… impulsive, and foolhardy, and- and… not like him!”

You stand up quickly, landing on your feet.

“I must get to the bottom of this.” You pause. “Or top. Either way.”

You gather your things, fix your hair, and wring out the water from your dress. Even if Ben doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, about his future, the very future of Auradon and all who reside within it, you do. Your loyalty to Ben simply cannot be broken by a day like today. You won’t let him throw away everything he’s worked towards for no reason. For any reason! If he’s just gone mad, that’s one thing to be dealt with. But there’s a good chance he’ll come back to his senses sooner or later, and you refuse to let everything to hell in a handbasket until he does.

You are going to figure this out. You’re going to do as much damage control as needed until Ben is back to you and Back to himself. And he is going to come back to himself. You’re sure of it.

Filled with tea cakes and determination, you summon a rabbit hole back to Auradon, and jump through. You flip and twist through the darkness, falling past a bookshelf that floats along with you for a moment, offering a few titles that might prove useful.

When light breaks the surface and you hear the cracking of polished stone floors, you climb through and emerge into the library. You dust the dirt off yourself and off your hands, setting down your books on a table. You begin to look around, rushing through the library and moving with purpose. You pull book after book off the shelves until you can hardly carry them to the checkout desk. Many of them will be fruitless, you’re sure, but anything is better than nothing in times like these.

“Doing some light reading, Ms. Liddell?” The librarian asks, chuckling at the imposing stack of books you’ve placed before her as she scans through them.

“There’s nothing light about it, I’m afraid.”She looks up, surprised by the unusual heaviness to your voice, the sharp, focused determination. “Thank you, madam.” You say, grabbing all your books and marching off to your dorm. You have a lot of reading to get through.

#curiosity #curiosity is a wonderful thing #ben florian #ben florian x reader #descendants #descendants x reader #daughter of alice #daughter of alice!reader #liddell!reader

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milksnake-tea · 1 year ago

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━━ interlocks

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: braiding their hair ❀ ˎˊ- characters: nanook, yaoshi, lan, xipe ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: maybe ooc charas, but otherwise, none! just a bunch of fluff :) ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: this is my cooldown fic from the dan feng one HDFSIJK after this (and maybe a jing yuan fic if i feel like it) it's event time baby !! xipes is kinda short tho bc idk how to work w them so far so BHFDS not exactly happy w it but ehhh

Nanook closes their eyes at the feeling of your fingers sifting through their hair. It's rare to see the usually violent Aeon so at ease, especially in a domestic situation like this.

Their hair is soft, but incredibly messy. Even still, it isn't so bad so that you couldn't work with it. Nanook watches you languidly as you braid, not minding if you mess up one or two times.

When one of the Ravagers enters, all Nanook needs is to stare at them from the corner of their eye to drive them off. This is their special time, after all.

You comment on how much they seem to enjoy this. They merely nod before closing their eyes, allowing themself to immerse themself in your ministrations.

Yaoshi only allows you on the basis that they get to decorate you as well. It's only fair, after all. And with their multitude of arms, it won't be an issue.

You end up sitting on their lap, braiding the locks that drape over Yaoshi's shoulders as they hold you with two arms, and style you with the rest.

Yaoshi's hair is incredibly easy to braid - it's almost as though you're working with silk rather than hair. The Aeon hums a little tune from a world unknown to you as they decorate you with ribbons, jewelry, flowers, whatever they could get their hands on.

By the time you're finished, Yaoshi was already cooing at how adorable you look, all dolled up. They praise you for your work, petting your head, but they prefer to pay attention to you rather themself.

Let me just say. Lan's hair is the absolute best to play with. It's just so beautiful, with the way it glows in different colors when you move it. It reminds you of one of the many moons in the universe.

Lan rarely stands still, so you're likely either sitting on their back (horse part ???) while they run throughout the galaxies, or they're sharpening one of their arrows while you work. They love the feeling of you messing with their hair, especially since they have so much of it.

However, your hairstyles usually don't last long, unless you braid them extremely tight. They typically become undone in the next few minutes due to Lan's constant movement. Lan apologizes the best they can, but they're always willing to let you try another hairstyle, now that you have a blank canvas again.

Xipe is... Difficult to work with. They have three (possibly four if they have one in the back) heads, each with their own head of hair. So if you're braiding only one's hair, be prepared for the others to begin complaining. What goes to one head goes to all, remember that.

It's hard work, but don't worry, Xipe rewards you later on. They grant you a kiss from each head, singing you gentle praises for your labor.

They're also quick to show off to their followers, with Family all rejoicing and cooing at the "blessing" given to Xipe by their lover. Braiding and styling becomes part of their customs as a show of affection for one another.

Meanwhile, you're just standing there in confusion, because all you wanted to do was to have a little quality time with your lover.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #nanook #yaoshi #lan #xipe #nanook x reader #yaoshi x reader #lan x reader #xipe x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️

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machveil · 2 months ago

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CoD Headcanon: Parallel Play

self indulgent? oh yes lol today I bring you my parallel play headcanons with: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, and König!

tw: innuendos with John

context: parallel play is often seen with kids - where they ‘play’ without interacting (I’m sitting with my blocks, you’re sitting with your Barbie - we’re playing near each other, but not directly with each other). it can carry over into adults though, of course, since it is just a form of interaction

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Simon doesn’t really know about the term parallel play, but he does do it. if he’s just gotten back from deployment, or he just needs some him time, he’ll do his own thing. that said, he does like to be able to see you so he’ll stay in the same room as you

he’s perfectly content watching a game on the couch while you scroll on your phone. he’s a big fan of comfortable silence between the two of you. he’ll check in sometimes with a, “How’re ya doin’, lovie?”, or asking what you’re looking at

he doesn’t specifically seek it out otherwise. if you need some time to yourself he understands. if you want him to leave the room he will… but he’ll be just outside the room. if he wants to be near you but you’re not in the mood he’ll drag a chair towards the room you’re in. he’ll grab his phone and sit outside the door while he waits for you to come out

if you bring it up later he pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, “Hm? I was just relaxing, nothin’ more.”

John “Soap” MacTavish:

you like your personal space, so does John! you can do whatever you want, just know he’s going to come up behind you. you’re reading a book on an armchair? he’ll sit on the floor between your legs and poke around his phone - he wouldn’t mind poking around elsewhere though. you’re watching tv in bed? no problem, John will just take a nap next to you… he’ll just drape an arm and leg over you. course, he wouldn’t mind delaying the nap if you want to pay attention to him

he just likes touching you and being close. he’d rather be in your personal bubble while you’re doing something. granted, he knows when to back off. if you actually need a moment to yourself he’ll sulk, but he leaves the room. he tries his best to leave you alone but he’ll come back every five minutes asking questions, “Need a water? I can grab you a— nah? Okay.”, “Where’d you wan’ to eat tonight? I can make a reservation.”, or, “Hey, cannae find the remote, seen it?”

if you really, desperately need alone time your best bet is sending him off on errands or locking the door to the room you’re in. he’s a sweetheart, but he feels he’s doing his absolute best when giving you attention. I mean, when you give him attention it makes his problems go away for a while, he just wants to do that for you

he means well, but he wants to do stuff around you. besides, he’d have more fun partaking in a different type of parallel play…

König:

a man that knows what parallel play is, no doubt. he looked it up as an adult because he felt weird about not wanting to interact with people… but wanting to be near them? absolutely relieved to find out it’s a thing other people feel

not that he doesn’t like doing things with you, he absolutely does, but his go-to way of interacting with people in parallel play. he can read his little history book while you do your own hobbies. he likes a comfortable distance, you can sit on your bed, he’ll sit on a chair in the corner of your room

is so happy if you enjoy parallel play because it’s always comforted him. he used to do it a lot throughout his childhood and teen years, more often than not simply being in the same room as his mother. when it came to other kids? he was too awkward to approach them, and he felt comfortable just being near them (before problems surrounding his height and appearance came up)

of course, he wouldn’t mind if you sat with each other too, “Hm? Ja, come here, liebling. You can sit with me.”

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toon-tales · 4 months ago

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Here it is! Part three! Omg, I'm so excited for this!

Let's begin!

Ok, so, I know a lot of people say that Poppy hasn't changed a lot in the third movie but let me stop you right there!

Here's our girl, our happy-go-lucky queen cutely dressed and if I may, waiting for her boyfriend to compliment her looks like he always does

But then she notices something is wrong

You can see in the third pic, she was thinking how to approach the matter, because this, after all, is her boyfriend's old home, where he used to live with his grandmother. And in the fourth pic, her brows are even more furrowed

And here, oh my gosh this scene:

Can we look at Poppy, PLEASE?!

She's paying her full attention to Branch. She wants him to talk, to open up to her. HER EYES ARE FILLED WITH HOPE SHE'S ENCOURAGING HIM TO TALK TO HER

Skip, skip, skip, skiiiiiip, annnndddd here:

"I'm not hearing no!"

Branch doesn't look sad, he doesn't look mad, he doesn't look scared, he doesn't look uncomfortable, and most importantly, he doesn't look forced

True, Poppy was all "We are so in!", but unlike in Twt, she actually listened to Branch when he wanted to talk to her, and Branch actually talked when something he didn't like was going on. Do you even see how much they've grown?

Now, Poppy knows how hard life is without a sibling, and she doesn't want her boyfriend to just take his family for granted. Her heart was in the right place, people

And Branch didn't say no! He didn't refuse! They talked, different opinions and different thoughts and different mindsets, yet they worked things out

And yeah, I know Branch was probably thinking 'what have I gotten myself into' in this scene

But the entire movie was just Branch having issues and dealing with them. And Poppy was trying to help him. Also, in case you haven't noticed, things do not work out the way Poppy has imagined, just like in Twt, but the difference? Later, she didn't leave Branch alone to go save Floyd, she went with him. Now, I hear you saying: she went because Branch didn't say anything to her, while they fought in Twt, that's why she left him

Wrong!

Let me remind you that Branch lied to her, kept things from her, kept his feelings from her, didn't open up, and literally was being sarcastic and you can see she was hurt in this scene

And they're in a new relationship which Branch is already beginning with hiding stuff, yet she put all that behind because -I'm not gonna say boyfriend - the man she loved, needed her. So, yeah. She's changed

Takes a deep breath

Now, let's move on, shall we?

I just wanted to point out how Poppy was looking at Branch when he was trying to yet again hide his feelings. She knows what's up

Moving on to this scene:

The way she's telling them to include Branch? The pure happiness and excitement on her face for him! PLEASE?! May I remind you that SHE WASN'T SINGING WITH THEM BUT WAS THIS HAPPY FOR BRANCH?!

Now, I've already talked about the scenes I'm going to talk about now in the analysis posts, but I'm gonna copy-paste them here because I don't want you people going to those posts, then return to this one and lose your focus and vibe

You have Branch, whose brothers' return has reopened scars he's been trying to close for so long, and has just found out his brother is being held captive, and is now in a rescue mission to save him and sing the perfect family harmony, the same thing that they failed miserably at the last time so they walked out and never talked to each other again, comforting his girlfriend. Poppy needed time, needed him, and he was ready to give her all the time she needed and stay with her. Proof? He didn't move until she has left first, ensuring she was ready to leave

Then we have Poppy, who has just found out her boyfriend has been hiding secrets from her, and watched as he reluctantly agreed to reunite with his brothers, and discovered she had a sister that she knew n o t h i n g about, and that this sister was so afraid to leave her safe place and go with her, deciding to go help Branch save his brother. She took one last glance at the walls separating her from Viva, then walked towards Rhonda, silently signaling she was ready to leave.

They were both dealing with stuff, needed time to open up/stay, yet each one thought of the other

Then this scene was SOMETHING ELSE-

"Where are you going?"

"To save Floyd, alone. I didn't need them growing up and I don't need them now." He didn't even look back when he said, "What are you doing?"

And the look of disbelief on her face. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you!"

He literally gave her a blind eye, didn't look at her. He didn't want to get weak. "Why bother? Aren't you gonna leave me eventually anyway?" He was certain. He didn't wait for any reassurances because he didn't want to hear any and live a lie again. "Everyone else does."

But despite that, Poppy did NOT give up on him

"I have been by your side from the moment we've met, and you've been by mine. Let's give each other some credit here."

'and you've been by mine' this wasn't about her, but about THEM. This line has so much depth and meaning for their relationship

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you."

He started with the apology because he knew what he just said was WRONG. He knew she wasn't leaving, they've always been there for each other. And I don't think he thanked her for coming, maybe for reminding him? I mean, that's Branch we're talking about, he would surely have thoughts and insecurities about people leaving him

But Poppy's always there to remind him that she's always there

His mission is her mission. She was willingly going for an insane rescue mission, and face people BRANCH HIMSELF didn't know anything about, all the while trying to deal with the separation between her and Viva. But she was going with him. Because that's just them

All they wanted was for the other to be happy

And in the end? It worked out just fine

So, to sum up this post, and the previous two: no, Branch isn't perfect like we claim, nor Poppy is, too. Hiding things? Sure, that happens. Lying? Happens as well. Disagreements? Oh, yeah, lots of those. But in the end of the day? They work things out

Branch is perfect for Poppy, and Poppy is perfect for Branch

That's just love, and it doesn't have to be perfect all the time

Sooooo, that's it? Omg that was fuuuun!

Anyway, as usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

Part one

Part two

#Trolls #Trolls band together #Branch Trolls #Poppy Trolls #Broppy #Broppy analysis #Trolls analysis #That was it peopleeee #Omgggg

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maikissed · 2 years ago

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slow and messy

this is anyone you like type of shot, so enjoy. warnings: romantic c*ck sucking, duh(+18). probably poorly written, sorry.

Imagine a boy so infatuated with you that the slightest caress you grant him makes him intoxicated as he blush furiously and his beautiful eyes shine with an almost pleading expression. Moments of closeness like this makes his heart swell with adoration as he can’t get enough of you, of your smell, tender touch and gentle lips. You are so beautiful in his eyes that his chest feels heavy, overwhelmed by the fact that you’re all his, in body, soul and mind. Your loving gaze and fond smile turns him putty in your arms and it almost drives you crazy knowing that you’re the one who makes him feel like this. You love to go slow with him, thriving in these moments filled with long deep stares, delicate passionate kisses on his mouth, his neck and chest. You mark his body with traces of your fingernails as soon as you notice his breath shallowing and his eyelids closing shut, because he is so turned on and yet powerless, utterly at your mercy. You pay attention to every little reaction he grants you and realise you’ve never known you could be so enamoured with somebody.

You were kissing him, straddling his thighs, so lost in this blissful moment when you felt his hips buck up, desperate to feel you properly. You smiled into the kiss, delighted by your boyfriends eagerness and leaned back to admire the look of his swollen lips and foggy eyes.

“Be patient” you petted his cheek softly and he hummed leaning into your palm with his eyes closed.

He was so aroused, almost feverish and the sight of his flushed expression made your heart flutter with affection.

“You are so pretty” you whispered tracing the line of his lips with your fingers.

He took your hand in his gently and pecked your fingers with butterfly kisses. You could feel his hardness poking you through the clothes and almost gave in to the need to rock against him but you wanted to focus on his pleasure entirely tonight. So you slowly got off him to slide to your knees in front of him, biting your lip nervously when you spotted the look on his face. He swallowed hard, focused on your actions and his fingers that were placed on his thighs twitched slightly as if he wanted to reach out to you. But he stayed still and you shot him a cheeky smile, putting your palms on his thighs to glide them up and rest near his crotch, but not exactly in the place where he needed your attention the most. He was still watching you intensively while you started to unbutton his pants and then slowly took them off his legs. He was left only in his boxers and your mouth watered at the sight of his hardness visibly poking through the material. You’ve never actually went down on him, as your relationship was still rather fresh, but right now just the slight thought of it made your mind hazy. You took off your shirt, exposing the black little bra you were wearing and raised your hands up to tie your hair in a loose ponytail. Your boyfriend smiled at you lazily then. You rested your hands on his knees and leaned down, maintaining the eye contact all the while. He whimpered the moment you placed a hot open-mouthed kiss on his still clothed dick and the sound turned you on even more.

“Do you want me to suck you off, baby?” you asked sweetly and noticed a slight twitch of his member.

He thrown his head back with a chuckle, extremely weakened by your never-ending teasing and you put your palm on his dick to stroke him gently. He jolted, chasing your touch.

“Have you ever fantasised about it?” you murmured observing his little reactions.

“So many times” he breathed looking down at you.

You bit your lower lip excited by his confession and then grabbed the elastic of his boxers to finally free him fully. He lifted his hips up so you could take the garment off easily. You licked your lips at the sight of his erection and he blushed slightly, patiently waiting for your next move. He looked so sweet and innocent, looking at you with those big begging eyes, it made your heart ache. You placed his cock in a light grip of your little hand and bend down to peck the tip with a kiss and heard him intake a sharp breath. The muscles of his stomach tensed visibly when you licked a long stripe from the bottom to top and the moment you took him inside your warm mouth fully, he grabbed the back of your head with his hand gently, running his long fingers through your hair. You hollowed your cheeks working him slowly and dared to look up to spot him still watching you through heavy lids.

“You look beautiful” he breathed, his voice weak and raspy “You’re so good, baby”

His praise encouraged you more and you went back to play with the tip of his cock again, sucking it a bit harsher and he jumped up slightly as a low moan escaped his lips. You hummed closing your eyes and then leaned back to collect more saliva in your mouth to spit on his cock before putting it in your mouth again. The sight of this filthy act elicited a low grunt from him as he thrown his head back, completely lost in the pleasure. You sped up your movements, working the base with your wet, spit covered palm. You relaxed your throat to be able to take more of him inside your mouth and focused on steady breathing through the nose. You felt the tip hitting the back of your throat and gagged slightly, gripping his thighs. The whole act was getting messier by each second and you could tell he was close to reach the climax. His sounds were getting louder, his breathing more erratic and you moaned tasting the precum on your tongue. Shortly after you felt the twitch of his cock and he came inside your mouth abruptly, making you squeeze your eyes shut, his grip on your hair tightened. You leaned back, making sure that he’s watching you swallowing his seed. A few drops went down your chin so you used your fingers to gather it and lick the digits clean. He sighed absolutely enraptured by your messy appearance, his mouth slightly ajar, panting as if he put in a full match on the pitch. You rose up to lean on the couch with your knees on either sides of his thighs and bend down placing his face in your hands.

“I’m not done with you yet” you purred roaming his neck with your fingers.

He grinned sleepily with his eyes closed and you leaned in to kiss him on the lips sweetly.

#anyone you like #anyone you like imagine #football imagine #richarlison smut #mbappe smut #erling haaland smut #joao felix imagine #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #richarlison x reader #bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #trent alexander arnold imagine #mason mount imagine #and the rest of them tehe

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coldfanbou · 1 year ago

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Mile High

The replacement fic for day 18 is mile-high sex with Sana.

Length 1.3K

Sana x Mreader

After boarding the flight, Sana waited around for the plane to begin flying. She intended on doing one thing, and that was joining the mile-high club. The horny woman sat back and waited until her long flight was properly in the air. Sana tried to look like she was paying attention to the flight attendant's instructions; she had been on so many flights she could probably give her own safety presentation. Sana tapped her foot quickly, getting irritated as she waited for her chance. One soon presented itself, though. Sana had chosen a flight that would take place at night. She couldn’t have anyone seeing her walk into the cockpit. Your co-pilot ran out of the cockpit and headed straight to the bathroom. Sana took her chance and hurried into the cock pit, closing the door behind her before anyone could see her head in.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind you, you turn on the autopilot before looking at the intruder. You turn around and see Sana brushing her skirt with her hands. “You can’t be in here, Miss.”

“Aww, I can’t?” Sana asks as she steps closer to you. “I just wanted to meet the pilots and treat them to something for doing their jobs so well.” She says while lifting her skirt to reveal her panties. They were sheer lace and were open along the middle, making access easy. “So where’s your friend?”

“He’s, uh, sick in the bathroom.” You explain to Sana that your co-pilot at something that didn’t agree with him, and he was currently in the bathroom having a terrible time. Sana rubbed the back of her head; she planned to be double-teamed.

“Then I guess you’re going to be the one who gets all this,” Sana says while removing her shirt blouse. She takes your hand and presses it against her breasts. Sana moans softly, keeping her smile focused on you. “So what do you say? What to join the mile-high club with me?” You nod your head slowly. Sana bears her teeth, happy at your answer. She straddles your lap and tosses her blouse onto the floor. The young woman reaches behind her back and unlatches her bra. She watches you as she takes one strap off, giggling as you marvel at her. Sana takes off the other strap while holding her bra in place. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Sana giggles again and lets go of her bra, letting it fall between you. Her perky breasts have nice brown nubs atop them. They were already hard, you note. “Can you see how excited I am?” Sana raises herself, letting you get at eye level with her tits. You glance at her hard nipples and don’t notice you're slowly moving closer to them. Sana’s breathing quickens as she feels your breath on her tits. “Just a little closer.” She says in hushed tones. Once your lips meet her small bud, Sana begins running her hands through your hair, holding you close to her chest as you suckle on her tit. She moans lightly; some laughs mixing in as she feels your hesitant tongue tap her nipple. After some time, Sana pulls you off her breasts and kisses you. You feel her tongue move across your lips; it’s her way of asking for more. You grant her access and feel her invade your mouth.

Your hands wander Sana’s body, her smooth skin letting your hands glide across it. They reach her ass, cupping each cheek. You give them a slight squeeze, making Sana jump in your arms. “Naughty boy. I guess you can’t wait.” Sana hikes up her skirt and begins undoing your belt. You pull your pants down a bit, just enough for your cock to be free. Sana gives you a big smile, “Ooh, nice and big.” She says, giving your cock a squeeze with her small hand. She strokes it, her hand gliding along your shaft as she silences your moans with a kiss. She speeds up, making you struggle to stay quiet despite the kiss. Sana laughs, seeing her quick handjob put you near the edge. “Enough playing around; let’s get to the good part.” Sana rubs her slit against the head of your cock, coating in her juices. “Ah, it’s finally coming.”

She says with a smile. Sana presses the head against her entrance and lowers herself onto your cock. You feel her puffy lips give way to her warm walls. They hold you tightly as you push deeper into Sana. The pleasure almost feels like it’s too much. Sana looks to the cabin's ceiling, letting her moans fill the small room as she feels you enter her. “That’s it,” She moans. As Sana starts riding you, she looks through the windows and takes in the night sky. You take the opportunity to latch onto her breast again; this time, you’re not so hesitant and tease her properly, moving your tongue around her nipple before running your tongue over it. Sana moans louder as she feels your cock hitting new parts. Sana drives herself onto your cock, getting every inch inside her. The pleasure for her is great, and combined with you suckling on her breasts, Sana feels like she’s on cloud nine. She rocks her hips quickly, making you both groan. As you near your climax, Sana begs for you to cum inside her. “Fill me up,” She repeats as she bounces on your cock.

You can’t hold on much longer, and that time is further reduced when you feel Sana’s walls clamp down on your cock. Sana begins to move like a maniac, bouncing on your cock while rocking her hips wildly. “Shit, I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” She moans. Sana grabs onto your shoulders as she impales herself on your cock, making you cum inside her. The grin she has on her face is enormous as she feels the rush of warm cum fill her womb. “Ah! It’s here. It’s filling me up.” Sana groans as she continues to rock her hips.

Minutes go by before Sana climbs off of you. She kneels in before you and grasps your cock. “I have to clean you up at least a little.” She says before swallowing the head of your cock. Sana’s tongue deftly swirls around your shaft. Your moans continue as you recover from your previous orgasm. You warn Sana you're going to cum again, but she continues. She pushes your cock into the back of her throat; you feel it wrap around the head of your cock. The tight and warm space feels amazing. The added pleasure from her tongue swirling around your shaft makes it feel that much better. As your orgasm nears, Sana feels your cock begin to throb and pulls back, leaving the head in her mouth while she quickly strokes your shaft. You start to fill her mouth with your seed before Sana takes you out of her mouth and lets the final spurts of cum paint her face. She enjoys the warm liquid hitting her. Once you’re done, she opens her eyes and stares at you, “How do I look? Sexy?” She says in a teasing tone; she already knows. Sana can feel your cock grow harder in her hand.

The two of you decide to go more rounds, finally stopping an hour before the flight is supposed to land. Your co-pilot has been stuck in the bathroom nearly the entire flight, only coming out in the last twenty minutes to see Sana sitting in his chair with her face covered in cum and without her shirt. “Aww, here comes the missing piece,” Sana says while staring at him. “It’s too bad you couldn’t join us; I really wanted to be double-teamed,” Sana tells him. He stands there awkwardly, wanting to say something but struggling to come up with the words. The look on his face tells you everything; he’s cursing himself for getting sick on the flight. Sana stays in the cabin far after the other passengers have left the plane, her face still having some cum splattered on it and her clothes a mess.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #sana smut

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leepace · 1 month ago

Text

Rotten ٭ Hwang Intak

✮ day 26 of piwon kinktober

✮ intak x afab!reader

✮ wc: 2.8k

✮ warnings: incest, degration, slight dubcon

author note: you will NEVER catch me writing anything like this again 😁 special thanks to @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts for hosting!! 🦇🖤

“You’re so self conscious,” Intak’s voice was back with a bite. Sweeping across your shorts, one of his hands inched closer, reaching down to swipe between your legs. “Don't get me wrong, but I don't technically view you as a woman.”

────୨ৎ────

The wet squish of your shoe stomping against the rain puddle made you grimace. The rest of your drenched way home was now accompanied by a wet sock, with it only being one more thing to add to your rain soaked items. Using your tote as a makeshift umbrella, shielding you from the elements, you sighed out in relief once reaching your front door.

“It’s pouring out ther–,” your sentence was cut short by your face smashing against what seemed to have been another wall once walking through the threshold.

The wall moved, revealing that it wasn't new construction you hadn’t been told about, but Intak blocking your way into the living room.

“Watch where you’re going,” it was like he hadn't registered your entrance at all.

He was standing there with car keys in his hand, his attention going back to your mom who was paying very little mind to Intak’s pleading eyes. “Please! I’ll even drive under the speed limit.”

“Your dad said no, don't start thinking you can come to me expecting a different answer,” She told him, not stopping the tidying she was doing.

He grumbled out a response, throwing the keys onto the coffee table. You had already managed to make it up the stairs towards your bedroom when Intak came barreling past. His stomps echoed while walking up the steps, pushing past you with a hard shoulder.

It was an accident, you knew that, but that didn't stop the profanities leaking from your mouth as the momentum from Intak’s close proximity and your wet sock made you come crashing down against the hardwood floors. Your first instinct was wondering how you were possibly able to get him back, make him feel how you felt, but the pain from your ankle paused any of those thoughts.

“Shit,” Intak stood above you, watching as you clutched your knee to your stomach.

The chaos didn't stop there, your mom rushing up the stairs to see what the hell was going on. After helping you get back onto your feet, she helped you with your injury by running it under cold water and wrapping it in an ace bandage. Tucking you into bed, she handed you two Tylenols for your dinner that night.

You couldn’t care less, not taking the extra sleep for granted as you settled into your sheets. Feeling yourself doze, the darkness of your room grew as the sun set. Slowed breathing mixing with your heavy eyelids was only a concoction for one thing; sleep.

Your plans for that night were interrupted when you heard your door creak open. The drowsiness that had infiltrated your mind suddenly dissipated, but you kept still as you heard another click of your door as it shut.

“Hey. Are you up?” Intak grumbled out in a hushed voice.

Scowling, you reached for one of your pillows to chuck it across the room, watching as it did no damage to his stoic stance. With your limited sight in the dark room, you could still see the baby blue coloring of his sweatpants that matched the zip up hoodie he had paired them with. It seemed like he had a scowl on his face as well.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Intak pursed his lips together before elaborating his reason for being there. “She told me to come and apologize.”

“You couldn't have waited until after I woke up?” You asked, frustrated.

“I didn't want to wait, and I’d probably forget about it,” he told you honestly, not sparing your feelings as he did so.

Rolling your eyes, you shooed him off with a wag of your hand. It was like your body had finally decided to wake up at the same time, an aching throb coming from your leg. Intak was half way out the door before you called out to him.

“Wait,” you watched as he stopped before continuing. “You need to do better than that,”

That made him backtrack his steps, closing the door again with too much force and an annoyed expression. “What?” He asked, turning to face you.

You extended your leg out, showcasing your wrapped ankle. “It hurts. I’ll accept your apology if you massage it for me.”

Intak scoffed. “You’re joking.”

“You owe me,” you explained, pouting. “And if you don't, I’ll tell mom about the way you came in here.”

“She’s not my mom,” He mumbled under his breath. Without another protest though, he climbed onto your bed to begin rubbing at the swollen muscle.

“Owe–, that hurts,” Intak’s big thumbs were roughly running circles into your ankle. Kicking his hand away, you flipped onto your back, pointing at your shoulders. “It’s sore here too, you know.”

Intak sighed, but placed his hands onto your shoulder blades to continue his calculated movements. You wish you could see his face, probably sporting one of his dumb expressions as he loosened the muscles in your back. You sighed out a deep breath as he worked his knuckles against a harsh knot.

You were quick to note how quiet Intak had become. He was usually quick with his comebacks, quicker with insults. He had done none of that, the only sound shared between the two of you being your circulated breaths. The context of Intak’s feelings were only readable by the way his hands continued to travel down your back, reaching where your waist met your hips until they disappeared.

His touch wasn't lost for long, his hands going towards the back of your thighs to begin to knead at the fatty flesh. You could feel your breath stop and eyes widen at his bold touch, but didn't say anything to stop his wandering fingers. You were riding the high of the massage and knowing you had won a small battle against Intak.

Your breath then hiccuped, his fingers finding their way beneath the hem of your shorts, just barely gripping at the skin underneath. He didn't give you any time to register his placement before reaching his other hand to begin palming at the fabric that was the only thing keeping him from your ass.

“That’s not funny, stop it,” you finally told him, your voice muffled from the pillow underneath you.

“You’re so self conscious,” Intak’s voice was back, with a bite. Sweeping across your shorts, one of his hands inched closer, reaching down to swipe between your legs. “Don't get me wrong, but I don't technically view you as a woman.”

Rolling onto your back, Intak’s hands were forced to be placed on each side of you, his body now leaning over. You gave him an inquisitive look, wanting to know what type of game he was playing, while an uncontrollable blushed grew across your face.

His eyes were searching, scavenging over your body like you were a part of some research project he needed to ace. You were frozen in place when one of his hands returned, softer this time, resting it against your collarbone. He dragged it down your chest, only briefly grazing your breasts, running down your stomach until teasingly flicking the edge of your shorts.

Your mouth was too dry to speak. You prayed that there was someone out there listening, wanting nothing more for Intak to not hear the rapid thump of your heartbeat as he began to lazily trace against your bare skin that had revealed itself from your disheveled shirt. Snaking their way back up your stomach, his hands were now dangerously close to your boobs under your shirt.

Adrenaline kicked in. “Getting too excited?”

With your uninjured foot, you reeled back your knee to push Intak off of you, kicking him right in the groin. He staggered back, now kneeling with his weight against his heels. It gave you the opportunity to finally see what had been growing in between his legs.

Without a second though, you pressed your foot back onto Intak’s hard cock. “I was right, wasn't I? I can't believe I have to live under the same roof with a pervert like you. I thought you didn't see me as a woman?”

Your foot burrowed against his shaft as you rubbed across the length of it. Intak’s jaw clenched, with you seeing a fire beneath his eyes you had never seen before.

“That’s enough,” He grabbed your foot, yanking it away from him. Your legs now spread apart, he was now given full access to reach his hand beneath your shorts, swirling his fingers against your clit before swiftly leaving.

You watched as he brought his hand close for him to see. The slickness between your legs had transferred, his fingers glistening and wet.

Intak laughed, but there was an intimidating undertone. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“This isn't funny,” you told him again, breathless.

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

With that, Intak’s large hand grabbed at your shorts, pulling them down your legs with your underwear going along with them. You could feel his fingers shake as he did so, his eyes staring down at your now exposed skin. Even if his body was betraying him, Intak was still keen on not backing down.

You felt his fingers return, reaching down to place the pad of his pointer in between your folds. He wasn't graceful or gentle about any of it; a carnal drive taking over his pace. Grabbing onto the shirt of his sleeve, all you could do was breathe out a pathetic ‘no’ to fight back.

With Intak towering above you, you were able to see how his face contorted with lust and anguish, like he was trying to quiet down his conscience. His mouth hung open with his bottom lip jutting out slightly, his brown eyes hidden under long lashes. From this close up, you could even see the intricate detail of the skin around the scar on his cheek. Your admiration was cut short when Intak’s middle finger joined his pointer to press against your clit, squeezing it in between them.

Your breathing stopped while Intak got back on his knees, pulling you closer to him effortlessly. Keeping only one of his hands around your thigh, he continued his torment by teasingly pressing his fingers against your cunt. You had to clasp your own hand around your mouth when he sunk his digit down, giving you no time to adjust to your new fullness as he began to thrust his finger in and out.

“Intak–,” You choked out, not knowing what type of plea it was.

He didn't say anything, pumping his finger until you could feel the deep burning ecstasy in your stomach build. It was like he had noticed, a lopsided grin displayed across his face with focused eyes. You moaned out his name again.

Arching your back, your head pressed into your pillow beneath you, the sensation of Intak’s touch beginning to unravel you. Your hips rocked back against him and you were clenching around his digit, crying out as you came.

Taking his finger away unceremoniously, Intak slinked off his jacket and pulled at the bottom of his shirt to slip it off his head, revealing soft pecs and a flat stomach. You couldn’t stop to ogle though, with him immediately going towards his sweats to take them off as well.

“Wait, wait. Wait–, wait!” Intak was ignoring you, taking off his pants, freeing his angry red cock. It bobbed against his navel, looking like it weighed heavy with dripping precum leaking from its slit.

Your dry mouth began to water, your body going in the completely opposite direction of your words. Intak had begun to line himself against you, gripping his hand into your thigh, his fingernails digging into your skin as if he was trying to prepare himself.

“If you don't want this, you’re going to have to be more convincing,” Intak’s words were harsh, but the blow was lost by his low voice.

With his hand gripping where your thigh met your hip, Intak pulled you towards him, thrusting inside until he was bottomed out. It was like he had carved out the exact proportions with his cock, completely filled to accommodate him. You were more prepared this time when he rapidly began to thrust deep strokes.

“Shit,” Intak was gripping and clawing at your legs as he used them as leverage, getting lost in his own world as he fucked into you. He reached to rip off your lone shirt, his eyes landing on your breasts as he raised the fabric above your head.

He had pulled you so close that the bottom half of your body had laid across his thighs, becoming a ragdoll against him for his own use. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing against it at the same speed as his transfixed hips.

You were feeling the same sensation build again as you palmed at the bedsheets. You were on full display in this position, your legs spreading apart around him, your chest exposed. There was a slight feeling of compromise, at any moment someone could walk in and catch them.

“This is so embarrassing,” you whined out.

Intak dipped his body, letting go of your leg, his hand disappearing from your clit. Placing his hands on each side of your head, he leaned close, exchanging breaths. His movements had stopped, only briefly to give you a teasing smile that showcased how his lips made an indent on his cheek.

Without words, Intak wrapped both of his arms beneath your shoulder blades, forcing you to press against his chest as he held onto you. With one swift motion he managed to flip himself onto his back, bringing you along with him. He had you now on top, still clasping his hands around you as he started to thrust again. It was like he had gotten impossibly deeper by doing so.

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingernails scraping at the skins that met his hairline. Intak’s oversized arms pressed into you like there wasn't any room left to breathe in between the two of you. At that point there was no use to try and hide your rapid heart beat.

He met your hips by slamming your body against his, creating an echo in the otherwise quiet room. You couldn't help but bite down onto Intak’s shoulder, suppressing an uncontrollable moan. It was like he was splitting you open, driving his cock into you with a squelch. You felt one of his hands reach for your ass.

Intak’s breath tickled against your ear. “Is this embarrassing enough?”

Biting down even harder, you felt another orgasm roll through your body. It crashed into you like a hurricane, hitting you in waves as Intak continued the onslaught of his hips.

You could feel him faltering though, Intak’s movements becoming less precise the longer he kept you in his arms. His breathy grunts had turned into drawn on whimpers, grabbing at your ass to lead you barreling down onto him.

Cursing out, Intak’s cock began to pulsate, constrict, and he was suddenly shifting himself free to paint white streaks of his cum across your back. You could feel the hot stickiness drip down, a prevalent reminder of what you had just done.

You stayed there on Intak’s chest as your breathing started to become more controlled, having to wipe away sweat that had formed on your upper lip. With a grunt, Intak used the last of his strength to push your body off of him, as if you hadn't just been suctioned cupped to him seconds before.

Hitting your mattress, you could feel the wet cum become trapped in between you and your sheets. It was like your senses and reasonability came flooding back, a blinding redness glazing over your eyes as you watched Intak pick up his clothes that had been thrown about.

“Is your situational awareness really that bad? You ruined my sheets,” you informed him, sitting up to peel the fabric off of your soaked back.

“Why should I care?” Intak asked, lifting his arms to put on his abandoned t-shirt.

You could have sworn you felt steam wafting out of your ears. “You’re so–, I don't like you.”

“Feeling is mutual,” He had pulled his pants back up, the blue contrasting against his tan skin even in the dark.

Intak didn't say anything when he walked out, shutting the door behind him. You were now alone, still naked and having to deal with the mess he left behind. Scoping out the disheveled bed, on the corner post you noticed how he had left the zip up hoodie that matched his sweats.

It was like your body was two steps ahead of your brain as you grabbed the hoodie to put it on, bringing the cotton close so that it cinched around your body. Rubbing your back roughly against it, you wiped away Intak’s cum with the jacket he adored.

#hwang intak smut #intak #hwang intak #p1h intak #intak x reader #intak smut #p1harmony #p1h x reader #piwontober24

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ginkgo-phyta · 10 months ago

Note

At elementary school I bent down next to an open window, when I stood up I hit my scalp with the "corner" (I don't know the exact word, English is not my first language), hurting myself (even though I didn't tell anyone because I was embarrassed about it). Since then, I pay more attention to edges, always covering them with my hand. So it got me thinking, Spencer Reid x Reader where Reader, during dinner with the team, drops something and crouches down to catch it, when they move their hand to cover the edge of the table (in order not to injure themselves) it touches Spencer's hand (I'm being delusional about that video of a man doing it for his gf while I do it for myself, because I'm lonel an independent woman). Thank you for reading this <33

A/N: ahh i’m so sorry that happened when you were younger! i love this prompt tho, reminds me of all those moments in kdramas ehehe i too would want spencer reid to do this for me *swoons* i hope you enjoy, my love!

Summary: Spencer notices you covering corners of sharp surfaces to stop yourself from getting hurt. One evening, he decides to do it for you.

fluff, gender neutral reader, no warnings(?), 1.8k words

It was normal for Spencer to pick up on others’ behaviors, completely in-line for him to observe his coworkers and mentally note their different habits or time how long it ordinarily takes them to complete a task. Usually, he finished his desk work quicker than his counterparts, granting him plenty of time in between to people-watch. For some reason, however, he observed you the most. At this point it had been five months, one week, three days, fourteen hours and thirty-six minutes since you were introduced to the team, since you were officially a part of the BAU family, and Spencer was acutely aware of your movements for every one of those seconds.

I’m just being cautious, he’d try to reason with himself whenever he’d catch himself staring a little bit too intently at you, watching your every moment a bit too closely. The other profilers around him, however, knew the true reason. Unbeknownst to Spencer, hushed whispers, knowing looks, quirks of eyebrows, twitches of smiles all passed around him every time he’d observe you. You were none the wiser, simply too engrossed in whatever task lay at hand to be privy to any peering gazes.

There were a few of your quirks that struck Spencer the most: the way you lightly tapped your fingertips against the computer keyboard as you brainstormed what to type next; how you made sure to thoroughly wipe your shoes on entrance mats before stepping into any space- even deceased victims’ homes; your habit of humming random, seemingly made-up tunes as you ate your lunch; and lastly, yet most strikingly, the way you would diligently cover sharp corners with your hands, obviously incredibly wary of them. The way you maneuvered around certain tasks confused Spencer, at first, but he found out the cause of your behavior purely by luck.

The first time he picked it up was watching you make coffee at the BAU kitchenette three weeks, two days, six hours, and fifty-five minutes into starting the job. Unlike Spencer- who would swing the cabinet open without a care in the world if it hit him in the head, too concerned about simply getting his caffeine fix- you would gingerly open the door at a forearm's distance. He noticed the way you’d wrap your palm over the bottom corner of the cabinet door, holding it that way while putting your coffee together with the other hand. The second time he noticed was five days, ten hours, and seventeen minutes after the first, when the two of you were looking over a crime scene nestled in the unsuspecting suburbs of Los Angeles. You and Spencer were combing over the murder site in the master-bedroom when something caught your eye. You had slowly approached the source of glinting on the baseboard below a window where the unsub was thought to have entered the home. Even though your eyes never left the mysterious material, your gloved hand came up to cushion the corner of the wooden blinds that had been left swung open as you crouched below them.

Spencer had given this habit of yours much thought over the next week, three days, four hours, and forty-nine minutes until Derek had revealed the wizard behind the curtain.

“What happened here, sugar?” the broad-shouldered profiler asked you from where he leaned against your desk, hand coming up to quickly and lightly tap your temple.

“Oh, this?” you breathe out, your own fingers replacing where the man’s had just grazed, pressing into the barely-noticeable scar. You chuckled at the memory, “When I was a kid, my head hit the corner of a window’s molding pretty hard…” your voice trails off a bit, zoning out as you massage the miniscule indent.

Derek audibly winces at the mental image, “Must’ve hurt like a bitch, huh?”

You nod in response, “I never told anyone, though. Now you know my deepest, darkest secret.” You shot him a playful grin before turning back to the case file on your desk where Morgan was helping you with a consult.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Spencer had overheard the whole thing. It all made sense now, the event clearly occurred at an impressionable age, leaving traces of trauma spurring your muscle memory. The young doctor made sure to file that information away in the recesses of his mind. He took a few minutes to think about it first, along with the other habits of yours he’d picked up on. Spencer’s mind began to wander, dreaming of the different possible backstories for each quirk. He wondered what other traits you might exhibit that he had yet to have seen. Was there anything you stopped yourself from doing, anything you were made to feel embarrassed about? He knew how cruel people could be. The prospect of someone humiliating you had him fisting his hands against his thighs, jaw clenching ever-so-slightly. That would be ridiculous, absurd even! All of your whimseys were just that; intriguing, charming, and…endearing. Wait, wait, no! Spencer shook the thought out of his head- that’s not what he meant! He turned back to his own work, deep in thought: Or…was it?

One month, one week, five hours, and twelve minutes after Spencer clued in on the lore behind your little habit, everyone was gathered at Rossi’s house for a team dinner. The eldest agent wanted to properly welcome you into the team, even though it had been quite some time since you started. Five months, one week, three days, fourteen hours and thirty-eight minutes. Everyone sat around David’s long, rectangular dinner table where he stood at the head, wine glass raised. He spoke your name, loud and welcoming.

“Chiedo scusa, I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to have you here. But, I want to quickly say how grateful we are to have you part of this team. People have come, people have gone, but you will always be part of the BAU family.” With a flourish, he urged everyone else to raise their glasses, “Salute!”

“Salute!”

“Here, here!”

“Cheers!”

“We love you!”

The mix of happy voices and delicately dinging glasses praising you warmed your cheeks in delight. The job was tough, but having people like these to work beside made everything easier. The flush painted over your ears and tickled the back of your neck when you glimpsed over to Spencer who gazed back at you with fond and tender eyes.

“Cheers,” he whispered, leaning in just a bit to clink his glass with yours, “We’re lucky to have you here.”

All you could do was shake your head as you chuckled, sheepishly taking in the way Spencer’s soft oak eyes peered at you over the edge of his water glass. You went to pick your fork up from the table mat, but your hands felt weak and palmy from being so close to the fluffy haired genius, causing the utensil to fumble out of your fingers. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, you were forming a not-so-subtle crush on him.

“Damn,” you whispered to yourself, craning your neck to see where the fork hard landed on the elegantly patterned rug. Quite a bit away from you under the table, unreachable by stretching foot. With a light groan you pushed out of your chair, settled on the idea of crawling under the table to get the fugitive cutlery. Out of reflex, your hand flew up to hold onto the edge of the dinner table to prevent any possibility of bumping your head against it. Instead of feeling smooth, rigid, temperate wood under your palm, you felt something soft and warm. Immediately, your hand flinched away and you looked up from the floor to see Spencer hands, large and steady, cupping the profile of the table.

“Oh, sor-”

Before you could even finish apologizing, his raspy timbre sang out, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

Your heart swelled with an unplaceable emotion. The flush from earlier returned with greater heat, spreading over every square inch of your body. It took you a moment of just staring at him in shock before his voice pulled you out of your daze.

“You can go, it’s okay,” his laugh was shy this time, eyes running from your gaze to focus on the conversation your tablemates were having.

You snapped out of your bewilderment, crouching down and fetching your fork before emerging back into your seat. Spencer kept his hand in the same position the whole time, picking at his own food and laughing with the others who didn’t seem to notice what you were up to.

“Thank you,” you said, all settled into your chair. Your words returned Spencer’s attention to you, a kind smile growing on his face.

“It’s no problem,” his hand lingered for a split-second longer than necessary before sliding into his lap. It had been a reflexive action, his subconscious fearing you would hurt yourself, but as the seconds passed he started doubting himself. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know it’s happened before.” The unexpected confession caused Spencer to look away from you, fearing he’d made you uncomfortable. With a light cough, he brought his napkin up to his face to feign wiping his mouth when in actuality he was attempting to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

“How’d you know?” You were surprised, but Spencer was relieved to hear no hint of distaste in your voice.

“I, um…” Another small cough pierced his train of thought, “I heard you telling Morgan a while back.” His chip dipped down a bit as he gulped down his worries.

“Wha-” Surprised, yet again, you couldn’t find the right words, your eyes searching for them in the intricate motif etched around the china plate staring up at you. “But that was so long ago…” your hands lay unmoving on the table, fingers picking at the corners of the place mat.

“One month, one week, five hours, and twenty minutes ago.” Spencer mumbled, gently yet matter-of-factly, picking at the pasta slumped before him.

Your eyes whipped up to look at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. Moments pass by as you take him in, absolutely floored at his memory. You’d seen him quote passing time before, that wasn’t shocking at this point, but the fact that he retained something so trivial about you left you dumbfounded. He sat there, chewing on the smallest pieces of pasta you’d ever see a person put in their mouth, acting as if his actions were embarrassing instead of…heart-warming.

“And you remembered?” Your voice was quiet, unbelieving and cheerful. It beckoned Spencer to you like minnow reels in trout.

He peeled his eyes up from his meal to look at you; your face, benevolent and compassionate; your smile, small yet loving; your eyebrows pulled up by a slivered string of affection. The hand resting unsurely in his lap moves up to gently grasp his water class, his pinky grazing against yours. He left it there, your own inching over indiscernibly to gain just a fraction of a bit more comfort.

Spencer smiled at you, balmy and adoring, his words widening the grin on your face.

“Of course I did.”

A/N: okay okay OKAYYY ANONN how was this?? ugh i loved this prompt sm i wish i had spencer reid to look out for me…even tho i, too, am a lonely i mean independent woman

does this count as a belated valentine's day fic? teehee

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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incognit0slut · 2 years ago

Text

Lock your door

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

All y/n wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige. Based on;

cw: 18+ explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), face sitting

wc: 3,9k (I'm a very descriptive writer you have been warned)

a/n: (reposted because of some error) I’m currently doing an ongoing series but once in a while, I like to write random plots, thus begins another series in which will all be one-shots based on songs i currently enjoy listening to… so yeah, this will be fun.

requests are open if you have a song in mind!

MASTERLIST

“…you better lock your door, and look at me a little more…”

Y/N WASN'T A SENTIMENTAL PERSON, but there was something about the way he looked tonight.

The fluorescent light coming from the hotel room danced across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. His eyes were in deep concentration as they scanned the document in his hand, his brows furrowed every time he came across something he couldn't comprehend.

Her eyes slowly raked down toward his Adam's apples, moving further across his chest, before they glided along the length of his arm. She couldn't help but notice the mesmerizing way his long fingers trailed along the words underneath his palm.

She always knew Spencer had nice, well-kept hands, but as she continued to observe them, she noticed how enticing they truly were. The size of them always surprised her, as well as the length of his fingers. But it was the veins running through the backs of his hands that really made her dry at the mouth, especially when the sleeves of his button-down shirt were folded above his wrists, showing off firm arms that didn't leave much to her imagination.

How long had she been staring at him? Gawking at him? It was hard to keep her eyes off of him when it was all she had been doing ever since she was introduced to the awkward twenty-four-year-old nerd that he was twelve years ago.

Twelve fucking years.

There should be some kind of reward for pining over your best friend for more than a decade. Y/n should be growing out of this yearning a long time ago yet somehow the more they worked together, the more it became hard for her to act as if every time his fingers innocently touched her skin there wasn’t this immense desire taking over her body, leaving her in a state of being completely swept away by the intensity of it.

Granted, Y/n knew she wasn't the only one attached to this infatuation. Words were never exchanged, although observing and analyzing people's behavior for a job helped her notice the exact same desire reflected in his eyes. She could tell in the way he looked at her, the way his pupils dilated every time he focused on her mouth.

But things between her and Spencer had always been complicated. Her early interest came unnoticed when the person he preferred to ask on a date was another one of their colleagues, and when he grew out of that brief crush and had the courage to finally ask her out, she was already in a relationship.

When that relationship ended begrudgingly and she needed a shoulder to cry on, Spencer's heart was already taken for a mysterious girl he guarded to himself. But that love affair only became a heartbreaking tragedy as it ended before it even began.

It was ever since then that Y/n made a mental note to never indulge her feelings toward one of the closest people in her life. She deemed it inappropriate after everything he'd been through, especially when he made it clear that getting involved with the opposite sex was the very last thing on his mind.

Until something shifted a few days ago.

She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the traveling into yet another foreign part of the country that made everything seem different, or maybe it was being in close proximity for more than forty-eight hours that had her watching him so earnestly.

But whatever it was, the sudden shift had her looking at the adorable young man he once was into this attractive, irresistible man she viewed as more than a mere friend. A man whose eyes glazed over her mouth this morning yet managed to be oblivious to how she was the one gawking at him now.

Maybe it was time to end their flirtatious dance. Maybe it was time to stop skirting along the what-ifs flowing in her mind. Y/n glanced at the man in front of her, watching the way his back hunched over the table as he buried himself further into deep concentration.

“Spence."

He hummed a soft response, his eyes still trailing the words printed on the document.

"Spencer."

He slightly tilted his head, an indication he was listening but kept himself busy as he continued his reading.

"Dr. Reid."

There was a certain cadence in her voice that sounded oddly pleasing. Spencer reacted to the low timbre of her voice with a glance, his eyes skimming along her leg which rested on top of the other, a glimpse of soft skin teasing his senses as the material of her dress lay softly against her thighs. His eyes snapped back to her face, noticing the lopsided smirk on her lips.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to take a break?" Her eyes shot toward the document in his hand. "You've been reading nonstop ever since I got here."

The latter statement was the one that caught his attention. "What's the reason you're here again?"

Y/n wondered whether explaining how she wanted to run her hands through his disheveled hair while he buried his face along her neck would be deemed appropriate. But she had too much pride to admit that. Instead, she uncrossed her legs with a satisfied glint in her eyes as she caught him staring.

She might not want to convey her attraction through words, but carrying out the art of seduction was a very different matter. Temptation had this alluring appeal that drew people in, a certain type of feeling that could often lead a person to do things they usually wouldn't do. And it was what she had in mind as she leaned over the table, the collar of her dress gracefully dropping with her movement, publicly displaying her cleavage.

"I thought you might need company," she simply said. "But I've been sitting here for almost an hour and you haven't engaged me in a conversation."

His eyes flared on the sensual way her breasts were pressed against her clothes before he quickly looked away. "Well, these documents aren't going to read for themselves."

She almost rolled her eyes at his response. "But aren't your eyes tired? Don't you want to take a break?"

He glanced at the stack of papers sitting on his side of the table. "I don't think that would be the wisest thing to do."

"Not even a five-minute break?"

"Especially a five-minute break."

She slumped in her chair as he diverted his attention back to his task, already engrossing himself in another document while ignoring the baffled look on her face. Was she looking at this differently? Was she wrong to think that some untold infatuation lingered between them all these years?

Y/n couldn't help but feel disappointed. Disheartened by the lack of attention, she abruptly stood up and moved along the carpet floor of his room. Her sudden movement caught him by surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that might actually appreciate my presence."

She heard him heave out a sigh as he got up from his seat. "You know you're welcome here."

"Am I though?" She taunted, her hand already on the doorknob as she threw him a look over her shoulder. "You barely glanced at me, Spence."

"I was working. You know I need to find any potential evidence from all these files."

A sense of guilt washed over her as she watched him take a tentative step forward. "I know. I just... all I wanted was for you to look at me." Her guilt-ridden concern was replaced by embarrassment when he didn't respond. She quickly shook her head. "You know what? Never mind."

An immense feeling of shame and embarrassment traveled through her body as she turned around. What else was there to do than to flee from his scrutinizing gaze? Her hand gripped the doorknob before she pulled it, ready to fly out the room when a hand suddenly hovered over the edge of the door, softly pushing it back into place.

The sudden silence unnerved her, picking the pace of her heart when she realized she was very much flushed against his body. She could feel herself trembling as her grip slipped off the doorknob. She watched the way his long fingers glided down the hard surface of the door in intense interest.

His rough hand engulfed the lock on the door and she felt his other hand grasp her hair, slightly moving it away for better access to whatever he had in mind. His tone was quiet but undeniably gruff when he mumbled, “It's not that I don't want to look at you, Y/n.”

This was not how she had expected the night would go. Well, maybe it was what she had hoped for, but now that it was actually happening, she completely froze on the spot. She didn't know what to do, the gears in her head were moving to initiate a proper reaction but immediately came to a halt when his other hand banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulders.

"But a five-minute break is not enough for me…”

His breath was hot on her neck.

“…to do..."

Her head lulled back as he pressed a kiss.

"…the things..."

Her skin shivered as he flicked his tongue.

"…I want to do to you."

She watched as he turned the lock back to its place, the sound a distinct echo in the room.

Everything went completely still. The air charged with an electric sense of excitement and nervousness, the type of charge that lead to anticipation. Spencer could feel the erratic pace of his heart as a surge of arousal rippled through his blood. It was definitely not a feeling he was used to, but it was very powerful and overwhelming in its intensity as he swiftly grabbed her arm.

Y/n let out an inaudible gasp when he turned her around, not because of the way her legs were stumbling by the impulsive contact, but by the sudden grip of his hand on her waist, steadying her momentarily in the midst of her trying to register what was happening.

"Spencer," his name a sigh from her lip. A hot spike raced through her body as if she had been struck by some force. Y/n took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her.

"What happened to your confidence?" He whispered with a coy smile.

She was growing dizzy, overwhelmed with the feeling of him everywhere, with how clear his intentions had become and how much she welcomed them. "I guess you've rendered me speechless."

And then his large hand cupped her whole face, tilting her up. His fingertips felt electric, for wherever they touched her skin tingled in a frenzy of static. She was mesmerized, captured by the spell he had on her.

There was a warm gust of air over her nose as he breathed out, "Are you sure?" His nose gently brushed against hers. "I'll stop if you tell me to."

Her fluttering eyes shot up at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as she waited for the moment to come, to explore every inch of his mouth. He finally pressed his parted lips on hers—and true to her imagination, his kiss was divine.

His lips felt soft and her mind went hazy when he started to move them. The push and pull of lips were exhilarating, the lazy mapping of their mouths molding together ascended the desire inside her. She exhaled a moan the moment he nibbled her bottom lip with a gentle brush of his tongue, her body burning with a new sense of need.

He gripped the base of her neck, keeping her locked to his mouth in their exchange of breaths, their tongues grazing, dancing, colliding with one another. And between her breathless moan of pleasure, he was making his own delightful noises, the various groans and growls coming from deep within his chest only made her beg for more.

Spencer slowly pulled away, eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers, gasping for the much-needed air. "You," he growled under his ragged breath. "Taste better than I imagined."

Her head was spinning. How could he consume her so much? They were practically pressed against each other like hot glue yet she wondered whether there was any possible way to crawl under his skin. It wasn't enough, she craved more. More than his kiss. More than his tongue—she wanted more of him.

Y/n slightly pulled away, her hands skimming along his arms before they grasped onto the bottom hem of her dress, and without warning, she managed to pull the piece of clothing over her head with one swift motion.

Spencer stood there, utterly impressed and furthermore aroused. His eyes raked over her half-naked body with absolute adoration. "I see you've gained your confidence back."

She threw her dress to the floor. "Most of it anyway."

There was nothing more bewitching than her half-naked form, yet he wanted more of her, he needed to have her fully undressed in his arms. Spencer carefully grabbed her hand and guided her further into the room. He slowly dropped himself on the edge of his bed and parted his legs, gently slipping her between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands gliding along her skin. "Gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous."

Her hands skimmed along his shoulders before she ran them through his tousled hair as she stood between the firmness of his legs, enjoying the pure admiration in his eyes. There was something mesmerizing in those hazel orbs, tantalizing her self-confidence as her fingers moved over to the front of her bra, unhooking the clasp before it slipped over her shoulders so effortlessly.

When she was finally free from the confinement of her undergarment, Spencer let out a satisfied sigh, because right in front of him were the most perfect breasts he could ever possibly imagine. His hand danced across her skin, feeling her body tremble underneath his palm as he let a thumb graze over her already hard nipple. The moan she let out was unbelievably exotic and there was nothing else he wanted to do than to hear more of it.

So he let his finger trail down her stomach before he grabbed the edges of her underwear and finally, but oh so slowly, pulled them down her smooth legs. Once they were off, he leisurely observed her nudity, his eyes sweeping over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the warmth radiating from her core made every part of him swell. He slowly guided a hand up her leg.

"Spencer," she breathed, clutching onto him even tighter. "Please."

His fingers brushed her inner thigh, so close to where she burned but not close enough for her to feel the satisfaction she desired. "Please what?"

She whimpered desperately. "Touch me."

"And where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere."

What was a man to do when he was asked with such urgency? Such fervor? Spencer looked up at her and smiled, placing a gentle kiss between her breast before motioning her toward the bed. "Lay on your back."

She did as she was told and when she was finally on her back with him pressed to her side, Y/n shuddered at the touch of fabric from his clothes. There was something vulnerable about being the only one naked, yet somehow the roughness grazing her skin merely intensified her arousal.

She inhaled a sharp breath as she was met with a pair of hooded eyes looking down at her with undeniable lust. She felt electricity in her body, hormones shutting down her higher brain, and from there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating. He leaned forward, a hand unhesitatingly pushing her locks out of the way to expose her slender neck. His rapid breathing sent shivers down her spine, his lips almost brushing her ear as she closed her eyes.

Spencer trailed small kisses along her jawline, down to her throat, and pressed another kiss on the spot below her ear. She let out a satisfied moan as he sucked the spot leisurely, feeling herself shudder at his touch, sending her into another trance of delight.

She writhed at the electrifying touch of his fingertips and the thread of control that seemed to remain in him snapped as he lunged at her, pressing into her mouth. She gasped at the force and like the man he grew to be, he took that opportunity to slip his tongue, tasting every corner of her mouth. Her taste overwhelmed his senses as he devoured her, hands sliding in her hair, tugging at her, twisting and moving her to his liking.

Her scent was filling his nostrils, her delicate fragrance intoxicating his brain, pulling him even deeper into the spell she was casting on him. His smile was wicked against her lips as his hand engulfed her breast, feeling her shiver underneath him, her breath becoming rapid as she felt his thumb stroking her nipple.

Her aroused nub tightened at his touch, screaming, begging for his utmost attention. He gladly obliged her desire, his mouth trailing down her collarbone, letting his tongue brush along the curve of her breast before his lips hovered above her swollen peak, ravishing it into his mouth.

She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as the sensation shot through her body, a thrill of arousal pooling in the heat of her core. He pulled away for a moment before ravishing her other peak, gently tugging it with his teeth before sinking in her flesh with the heat of his mouth.

"Beautiful," he murmured to no one but himself as his eyes took in the sight of her naked chest. His tongue flickered out teasingly on her hardening nub before he looked straight into her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

Then his finger continued its teasing brush, gliding along her skin as she writhed uncontrollably, waiting for him to touch the place she desired the most. It was torture. Evil, wicked torture as he leisurely took his time into taunting her that she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Spencer..."

He smiled amusedly, feigning innocence. "What?"

Y/n was never one to beg. Her job taught her to stand her ground and to be resilient whenever she had to face any type of obstacle. But right now, as his touch burned her skin in ways she never thought possible, she really didn't care.

"Baby, please..."

The unexpected term of endearment sent a sensational thrill along his body before a satisfied grin stretched across his lips. "Now how can I say no to that?"

This time when his hand slipped lower, she slowly suck in an anticipatory breath through her teeth that she held until his fingers swiped achingly light over her slit. She let out an audible gasp when she felt the pressure of his fingers over her, teasing her ever so slightly as her eyes rolled at the back of her head. He ran his fingers between her folds, making her flinch at the sensitivity and without warning, without mercy, they plunge into her.

A heavy tide of delight hit her, tension snapping inside. Strong waves emanate from her core, ecstasy racing through every inch of her body as his fingers swelled inside her wetness, moving at a rapid yet lazy pace. Her hips bucked against his fingers, following every movement they made as they stretched inside her, building the most sensational feeling throughout her body.

She closed her eyes, ready to simply enjoy the thrilling pleasure he was bringing to her when he suddenly pulled his fingers out and she whimpered at the loss. He dragged his tongue along his lips before lying on his back, pulling her along with me. "Come here."

She followed him, her legs on either of his side when he motioned her to move forward. "No," he hissed. There was a sudden shyness in his demeanor but his eyes reflected an immense amount of determination. "Sit on my face."

She gaped at him.

Never in a million years did she ever imagine those words to come out from his lips. If anyone told her that Spencer Reid, a certified genius with an IQ of 187, would ask her to sit on his face, she would've laughed. Yet here she was, crawling over him as he proved to her how lewd he could actually be.

Y/n felt the heat creeping along her cheeks as she settled on top of him, but his reassuring smile threw away any doubt she had in mind. He softly kissed her inner thigh before she lowered herself. She gripped the bed frame in front of her while his tongue flickered between her slit, and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh like a man starved.

Oh, fuck.

She must have said that out loud as she felt the vibration of his laughter on her skin. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hungrily. The view was making her dizzy. The way his eyes bore into her own as his tongue wrapped around her wetness made her grind her hips, seeking more of the fraction.

He gave a long, languorous stroke with the flat of his tongue and sucked her into his mouth, tugging ever so slightly she could feel the pull in her throbbing clit. Then he spread his mouth wide over that sensitive nub and sucked even harder, a sudden stabbing sensation making her cry in pleasure. Her whimpers and moans grew louder as the coil in her stomach tightened, his tongue moving faster while he felt her clenching around his mouth.

Y/n could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his tongue was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her that she knew she was approaching the end. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls.

And then she shattered—breathlessly, tiredly, heavenly. Her toes curled as she screamed out his name, releasing her grip on the bed frame before burying them in his tousled hair; pulling, grabbing, then throwing herself back as the intensity of the feeling rushed in her blood. She let out a sob as he eased her through her orgasm, rubbing her thighs while they shook around his head.

Her mind went completely blank a few minutes later. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak. She merely notice her body shaking with satisfaction as he carefully helped her down, settling her naked body on top of his. The gentle sound of his breathing filled her ears as she felt soothing hands running over her.

They stayed like that, drenched in her sweat with her head on his chest and her legs draped over him. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence. "You're amazing."

She finally had the will to lift her head up and laughed. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

The indicated compliment made him smile. Silence engulfed them and at that moment it seemed as if there were a lot of things to be said, but somehow neither wanted to initiate the conversation. He pulled her closer and she leaned in his embrace—then his phone rang suddenly before she could even relax.

She groaned. "How much do you want to bet that that's Garcia?"

"Or Hotch." Spencer's hand glided down her back. "We should probably see what they want."

"We should."

But they didn't move and his phone suddenly stopped its chime. Their peace was once again interrupted by another call that came from her phone this time. Y/n let out a sigh. "We should really go."

He nodded, but before she peeled herself off, her eyes cautiously narrowed on him. She could practically feel the blood and adrenaline pumping and coursing through her vein as a rush of hesitation enveloped her. "Can we... finish this later?"

But then her heart brimmed with affection at how his smile lit up, a wide, radiant grin that pierced her skin and traveled straight to her soul. And there he was, underneath the mature lines swept across his handsome face was the adorable man her heart had always ached for.

"Oh, absolutely," he spoke, his fingers trailing over her naked flesh. "We'll definitely finish this later."

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