#it was so hard to chop it down to just 7 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jillsandwhichs · 2 months ago

Text

Caress

Chapter 7 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You and Joel cuddling in bed turns into something beyond that

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 2.5k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Making out, Dirty talk, Blowjob, Breast play, Unprotected P in V, Missionary/Mating press, Use of 'Daddy', Praise kink, Words of possessiveness and Joel cums inside of you

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

The cracked window just to your right blows in fresh cool air. It hits the exposed parts of your body. The slim gap between the bottom of your tank top to your sweat pants gets the brim of it. Your shoulders get coated with the breeze and you feel goosebumps form on your arms soon after. Your hair flails and drifts to wherever the wind may blow it. Your body slightly shivers and that's what caught Joel's attention entirely.

"You cold baby?" Joel whispered to you. You are in his arms. You have been for almost an hour now. There are days where the two of you just rot in bed with nothing better to do. Call it laziness, call it boredom, but you enjoy it. The warmth of Joel's broad body against yours is one you'll never ever get over. Despite the chilling air roaming in your guy's bedroom, his heat supersedes that.

"Just a little bit, but you're keeping me warm." You patted his chest with your hand. Joel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "Here," The man grunted as he sat up for a moment and pulled up the red & green plaid comforter that matches the set to your guy's shared bed. You leered and slowly laid your head back onto his chest as the blanket fit your guy's conjoined form. "Is that better?" "Definitely." You replied quietly, nestling your head into the crook of his neck.

He smells good. You can smell an outdoorsy scent on him. It makes sense; Joel spent a good hour or two outside today chopping wood for the fire place & working on his truck. You breathed in deeply, then pressed a kiss to his hot neck. You felt Joel's hand that was on your waist begin to caress you. He did it with such love. You swear, if you could, you would totally fall asleep in his burly arms right now but you still have to cook dinner tonight for the two of you so no naps for you!

Joel turned his head to face you and he smirked. "You tired babygirl?" "A little bit, yes. My insomnia has been kicking my butt." You snorted and began to run your hand up and down his chest. You could feel his stomach lifting up and down with each breath he took. You love the way his stomach bulges out—his body is the sexiest thing to you. Joel moved his hand up to your hair and stroked it. "Sorry darlin', I wish you could sleep through the night peacefully." "I wish." You murmured.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. You yearn to kiss him. Joel always teases you about how much you kiss him and cling to him. Honestly, you cannot help it. You're crazy about Joel—but not as crazy as he is about you. Joel breathed in a sharp breath and kissed you back. You felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and he pulled you on top of him. You giggled and detached from the kiss. "You're quick with it, hm?" You spoke in a cocky, playful voice.

Rolling his eyes, Joel spanked you and laughed. "Don't push your luck baby." You smiled at his words and drew yourself down to him again. Your thighs are on either side of his torso, straddling him indefinitely. You could feel his hardness form through his boxers and you smirked into the kiss. That smirk was Joel's opening. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and held the back of your neck, ensuring you wouldn't be able to pull away from the deepening kiss.

The way he gets turned on so quickly will never not be attractive to you. You're glad knowing you have a boyfriend who is obsessed with you and can become aroused within just seconds. You began to grind yourself against him as the two of you made out. You heard a gutteral grunt release from deep within his throat. "C'mon now baby, don't start unless you plan to finish this." Joel stated sternly. You pulled away from the kiss and held eye contact with him. "Don't worry," You cooed as you pulled your hair back, earning wide eyes from him. "I'll finish what I started."

You trailed down his body. With each inch you slivered down, you left a kiss on his body. His cheeks, his lips, neck, chest and down to his puffy stomach—no where was untouched. You could visibly see his hardness. It makes you wet. You need him. You bit your lip and gazed up at Joel. His eyes were already on yours and you pulled his dick out of his thin, black boxers. His erection sprung out, it was free at last.

"Mmm, been a bit, huh?" Joel snickered, watching you jerk him off for a few seconds. You could feel him twitch in your hand each time your hand got closer to his tip. He is sensitive and you love to tease him because of that. You ran the pad of your thumb over his slit and he winced. "Do not start that babygirl, I'm warnin' you." Joel sternly noted to you. You giggled and kissed his cheek with haste. "Sorry Daddy."

Daddy. God, Joel revels in the fact you like calling him that. He thinks it's the hottest thing in the world. Joel relishes in it. "Jesus Christ." He murmured as you pulled your head down to his length. You licked his tip, causing his hips to jolt upwards. You smirked and licked it again, this time managing to scoop up all of his pre-cum. You like the taste. However, you yourself are sick of the teasing. You want him deep in your throat.

You wrapped your lips around his dick and started to suck him off. You heard Joel grunt and while taking a quick glance, you noticed his head already tossed back. You bobbed your head up and down and took him very deep into your mouth. He is already practically deep throating you. One hand rested on the bed whereas the other remained on his base as you sucked his cock, jerking the parts your lips weren't on. "Fuck sweetheart, you really know how to use that goddamn mouth of yours." Joel praised you.

Your spit drained out onto his length. You coated his member in your wetness. Your tongue was working absolute wonders on him and Joel can't get enough. "That's it. Daddy's good girl is takin' is amazin'ly." Joel huffed out. You picked up the pace in which your head moved. You want to taste him, make him cum in your mouth. "Mmph." You moaned around him. His dick is making you choke at this point, but that's on you. With how much you're taking and how fast you're going, it's bound to happen. "You're beautiful like this." He said softly.

Joel's hand went to your hair and he helped keep it back considering it kept finding it's way back in your face to pester you. He didn't pull on it, no, he held it gently and let you do your thing. "I don't wanna cum baby so when I say stop, you stop, alright?" Joel stated. You opened your eyes and glanced over at him. He was gawking at you. He smirked when he noticed you looking into his eyes. "Fuckin' hell." He spat out. Your teary eyes turned him on immensely. It's so attractive to him when you get like that.

Continuing to blow him off, you figured he'd let you go on until he finishes. Clearly not.

You whimpered as you felt a tug on your hair pull you off of his dick. You coughed and wiped the spit from your pink lips. Joel breathed in deeply and looked over at you. "Sorry babygirl, I was 'bout to cum, had to stop ya." Joel chuckled and caressed the side of your face, then wiped some excess spit off of your inner lip. You smiled and kissed him. He kissed you back and this time pinned you beneath him as he mounted you.

With a smirk, Joel leaned down and began to kiss and suckle on your neck. You let out a moan and wrapped your legs around him. You are desperate for him. "God," Joel said hungrily against your neck before he left one final kiss on your throat before pulling away. "I'm goin' fuck you so good." He laughed out. You giggled and lifted your hips up, providing Joel the opportunity to take of your sweats. He smirked and from the waistband around your midriff, he ripped your sweat pants off and set them on the side of the bed.

You sat up and took your tank top off—you're completely topless since you aren't even wearing a bra in the first place. Joel licked his lips at the sight of your breasts. He laid you back down into the bed by kissing you and as he did this, you felt his rough hands squeeze your soft, jiggly breasts. You moaned and encased your legs around his torso again. When you did that, he pushed himself into you and you felt his erect cock once again but this time against your clothed pussy.

"Baby," You moaned out against his lips. He flicked his thumbs over your nipples and groaned. "What darlin'?" He whispered against your lips as he kissed you again. He wasn't letting up. Joel is relentless with how much he likes to mooch on you. "I want you. I want you now." You whispered to him, lifting your head up to kiss him hungrily. Joel let out a breathless laugh and smirked. "You're goin' have me baby, don't you worry." Joel then adjusted himself.

He hooked his arms around your thighs and pressed them down. You felt his dick on your pussy and all it did was make you want to beg for him to stick it inside of you. "Alright baby." Joel muttered. He pulled your panties down and smirked as he set them to the side. "Gotta fuck my babygirl." He added on. You watched as he grabbed a hold of his length. He aligned it with your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you.

You let out a soft moan with each inch that entered you. He's big, the width of him is unbelievable. The man is practically stretching your walls out. The position he has you in as well only makes him able to go deeper inside of you too—this all works out very well in his favour. You smiled at him and put your hands up onto his cheeks. You felt his beard, his scruff, scratch against your hand. You love touching him in anyway. It's always pleasant.

Once he was fully inside of you, Joel wasted no time. He pulled out and shoved himself right back into your tight cunt. You whimpered and went to touch his face again but this time, he pinned your wrists down above your head. You let out a giggle and leered at him; Joel getting all dominant on you is always exciting. "God sweetheart, you are so fuckin' tight. You are fuckin' made for me." Joel grunted as he thrusted into you at an already fast & hard pace.

"Oh Daddy—just like that." You hummed out, closing your eyes and biting your lip with a grip that could kill. You heard Joel huff out and sigh. You know what calling him Daddy does to him. "Call me that again." Joel ordered. You released your lower lip from your teeth to speak. "Only you can make me feel this good... Daddy..." When you called him that again, he began to fuck you with even more speed and roughness.

You don't know how it's possible but Joel always manages to plow you with more eagerness each time the two of you fuck.

"Such a good girl," Joel let go of your wrists and tucked his face into the crook of your neck. His arms went back to pinning you down in the mating press position—one of his favorites. "Daddy loves making you feel good." Joel finished up his sentence. You could feel him twitching inside of you. That all too familiar feeling of orgasming was becoming of you. It creeps up on you and snags you out of reality for a good minute. Joel is the only man who has managed to make you cum as good as he does. He's perfect.

The only sounds filling the bedroom you two are in is your guy's hefty breathing and your smooth skin slapping against his with each pump. Occasionally, the sound of your pussy's wetness being juiced can be heard. Joel loves that sound specifically. "C'mon baby, shit, you're squeezin' me." "I can't help it. You're making me feel so good Daddy." Saying that only made him get closer to his peak. This is why he didn't want to cum earlier—so that he could save it for this, the initial love making.

Joel pulled away from your neck to gaze at you. "Who do you belong to?" Joel asked you. You giggled and looked into his piercing brown eyes. "You. I belong to you, Daddy." It was almost hard to form words with how good he's fucking you. Your stomach is beginning to burn up and your legs are trembling as if you just got done finishing a marathon run. Joel mumbled to himself before talking again. "Tell me you're all mine, that I own you." Joel stated, pressing a kiss to your forehead afterwards.

Despite him being extremely possessive and kinky, you can't deny he's still your precious Joel whose only goal in life is to take care of you... And to fuck you senselessly.

"I'm all yours. You own me. I'm yours to use, Daddy." You stared into his eyes, knowing your words, the feeling of being inside of you and you gazing into his eyes would be his breaking point. "Oh Christ." Were his last words before you suddenly felt his warm cum seep deep inside of you. You moaned and dug your nails into his meaty back. You felt his big hands squeeze your thighs as he came inside of you. The feeling was intense and very much needed. God, you love Joel.

After he rejuvenated himself, he pulled out of you and smirked. "Did my babygirl get to finish?" "No, but that's okay." You spoke as you went to sit up but he shook his head no and with haste spun you around. You landed on your stomach and he lifted your ass up, bringing a smack to it and smirking. "I can handle another round, can you?" You giggled and lifted your head up from the pillow. "Of course I can, Daddy." You then pressed your bum up against his man hood.

That itself, gave him the green light to absolutely destroy you.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smutshot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou #tumblr fyp

516 notes · View notes

nymph-ette111 · 4 months ago

Note

What if Jeff, EJ, Toby, Masky, Hoodie, and Ben (separately) found Y/N silently crying? Would they help or try to calm down Y/N?

That's it, sorry if I chose too many creepypastas ❤

I hope you have a great day/night!!

(I love your writing style aaaaah! Luv ya >< )

Sorry if I sounded cringe ;)

WARNINGS; JEFF BEING AN ASSHOLE LIKE USUAL/TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MENTIONS OF A DECAPITATED BODY

AUTHOR'S NOTE; NO ONE HERE IS CRINGE!! and I love you too <3 was giggling and kicking my feet writing masky and hoodie's part LOL

TOBY;

-the first thought that comes to his mind is that somebody caused this.

-may be a bit rough when asking what's wrong, because like I mentioned before, he just jumps into the conclusion that it's someone else's fault.

-Toby is a little... impulsive when it comes to solving his problems, always going the aggressive route.

-basically what I'm trying to say is that he is willing to chop up someone's body if they did something bad enough to make you cry.

-he will pry the information out of you, whether you want to or not.

-he doesn't realize that this makes things worse for you :( let's be realistic, imagine crying to your boyfriend because someone bothered you just for him to leave and come back covered in blood holding the head from said person's decapitated body.

-he'll even try to hug you, not caring if he is covered head to toe in blood, not caring if the smell was overwhelming your senses. he'll get upset if you refuse his "affection" and "comfort". sometimes Toby's thinking is... hard to understand.

-99% chance you're going to throw up from the sight alone. what I'm trying to say here is Toby's attempt at making you feel better is nowhere near what it's supposed to be.

-but if that wasn't the case and your crying was because of something else like an insecurity, just the overall stress of your day, basically anything that doesn't involve another person he'd be less aggressive.

-wouldn't really know what to say so he'd just go for physical affection and hope that it works.

-now this part depends on you since not everyone likes physical touch when upset. if you don't mind it then he's going to hold you until you feel better. if you don't he'd respect your wishes but he won't leave, even if you ask him to.

-would kiss away your tears one hundred percent.

-i'd give him about... 7/10 less if he brings back a corpse with him but the physical affection is nice :)

JEFFREY:

-love how your relationship is hanging on by a thread.

-it's surviving off of hopes and prayers bro.

-Jeff believes that he should be the only one who can make you upset in any way shape or form. I'd say he doesn't take the idea of someone else making you feel bad very lightly.

-not even in a "oh, someone made my partner upset! not on my watch!" he's just offended because it feels like someone took his place or something.

-yeah did I mention he's toxic as fuck.

-i honestly don't know how he'd react... contrary to popular belief I don't think he'd go out of his way to kill somebody because they made his partner upset like Toby would. in Toby's case it's out of pure love obsession and the need to please you. in Jeff's case he'd probably kill for his own benefit which I mentioned before, someone taking his place.

-fuck it he'd probably kill the person just to torment you, he enjoys that shit.

-however if it's your own feelings regardless of what it is, he'd pretend to not care.

-i think I somewhat implied it in my "stretch marks" post that he doesn't know how to handle his partner's emotions. insecurities or not, big chance he won't do anything, probably throw an insult or two just to make you feel pathetic.

-damn I don't think any fluff post with Jeff would work.

-how can this motherfucker even be nice.

-and if you're asking, no he would never break up with you. you boost his ego a little too much and he doesn't want to lose that.

-he doesn't want to admit it but he's attached to you to a certain degree.

-i'd give it... why are you even reading this it's an obvious 0/10

EYELESS JACK;

-im torn between making EJ the feral demon he is or making him more... human.

-i think I lean towards the more human side when writing for Jack but that might change in the future. expect all of my headcanons to change since I'm still trying to figure this out. even for his personality.

-i should make a poll for that... ANYWAYS

-regardless of the reason, he'd react pretty much the same way.

-he's so sweet and comforting it's actually insane :(

-he's naturally awkward but the voice, the way he weighs and genuinely considers his words before speaking, trying to find the best way to make you feel better can make anyone instantly fold I'm TELLING YOU.

-bro sounds smart and is smart just the way he talk to you is enough to make you move on from whatever had happened.

-intelligent men are so

-head scratches after he's done giving you his advice and point of view of the situation.

-my husband<3

-tries to get you out of your room after that, or just include you in whatever so you wouldn't think about it again. like offering to invite you to the infirmary, there's always an extra seat for you there :)

-i might be biased but 9/10

BEN;

-i've said this before and I'll say it again, does not know how to comfort people. especially ones he cares about.

-he just... stands at the doorway (or floats, whatever you like)

-if it was another person he laugh at them right away, but considering you're his partner he'd fight the urge for your sake.

-actually he might laugh a bit but if he notices that you're clearly serious about what upset you he'd drop it.

-would download a virus on the other person's devices.

-he thinks it's funny.

-he genuinely tries to make you feel better tho, just doesn't know how :(

-if you're insecure about something then he'd react similarly to my "stretch marks" post and try to convince you that whatever it is about you, it's beautiful.

-might come off as corny tho.

-either way... I'd give him a 5/10 maybe even 6/10 if bullying kids on roblox cheers you up.

MASKY;

-regardless of the reason, he'll ask what's wrong but secretly hopes you don't want to talk about it.

-he is a teen tiny bit awkward.

-kind of like Toby, he goes for physical affection and hopes it's enough to take your mind off of it somehow.

-but the hugs this man gives...

-might as well stay there forever.

-just imagine him holding you tight to his chest, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. a cig hanging loosely from between his lips UGH

-can you tell I'm listening to lana del rey while writing this.

-again he might not offer much in terms of... actually saying something to comfort you but his hugs are enough and if they aren't then girl what the fuck is wrong with you.

-i need him.

-i give 8/10

HOODIE;

-another one who relies on the physical affection only because he's a selective mute.

-unless you know sign language.

-unlike masky, instead of a hug you're sitting on this man's lap.

-his mask up to the bridge of his nose, scruff facial hair grown from years of not taking proper care of himself rubbing against your flush cheeks, strong arms holding you tightly against him.

-i genuinely cannot continue writing this so I'm ending it here because another word of describing this man will have me tweaking out 9/10

499 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 7 months ago

Text

Time Traveller AU part 9

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. Part 8 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 10 is here.

"I think you should take off your veil now. You need to impress the princes so that one of them could take pity and marry you. Or you could try black magic-"

"Baris, I will pull your tongue out and strangle you with it if you say another word." You muttered, holding your head in your hands.

After Baris landed the "marriage bomb" on you last night, you've been stressed. Why did I have to teach Mihirmah? Why did I have to accept the bracelet? Why did I-

"You have bags under your eyes, and considering that they're the only feature visible, its not good-" You threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. You hadnt slept at all, how could you? You tried to figure out a plan, that didnt work. You tried to fix your time machine, that was not going to work at all without tools.

"You could be wrong." You mumbled, opening your eyes as you stared ahead. "This bracelet could be nothing but just a kind gesture. It is not a marriage proposal. You're wrong-"

Baris cut you off. "I know it seems impossible, considering how you look, even I'm surprised- but I'm never wrong, Y/n. I've worked here for more 25 years, I know what everyone thinks." You stared at him with a pinched expression.

"You have to help me, Baris."

He smiled. "Of course, you'd be lost cause else wise! I'll get the seamstress to make you some new clothes-"

"No, I meant- you have to help me escape. I cant- I dont want to get married!"

He scoffed. "Darling, we're alone right now. You can drop the "I dont wanna marry a prince and enjoy the luxuries of the world" act."

"I mean it!" You huff.

"And why is that?"

"Because-" you bit your lip. What excuse can you possibly come up with to satisfy him?

"I love someone else."

"How tragic." He said monotonously. "Love has no place in the harem. You're here to attract, serve and please the royal family." He walked closer to you, leaning down as he lowered his volume. "And I'm going to give you some advice: you better not use that excuse again, never even MUMBLE about having a lover again, not unless you want to be tortured and executed for being a traitor."

You knew what he was referring to. The harem, the concubines, the whole palace was filled with jealousy. If anyone were to hear about this, they would use it against you, conjure up such vulgar lies that the sultan will chop off your head.

"Baris I cant-"

"You dont have a choice, Y/n." He cut you off harshly. "I suggest you suck it up and pretend to be happy or else you'll be in for a hard life."

"Now, get ready. You need to teach a lesson."

"You look sick."

You resist rolling your eyes. "Yes, I know I'm ugly. Thank you for keeping me updated."

Mihirmah shook her head. "No, I mean you dont look well. Are you alright?"

No, I lost sleep because of you and-

"Just tired, Mihirmah. I think we've should stop here today." You watched her beam.

"Finally! Now we can celebrate!" Mihirmah clapped her hands as the servants brought in some tea and sweets. She had initially wanted to celebrate her victory from last night as soon as you came in, but you wanted to get the lesson done with so that you could leave.

"You enjoy it. You did a good job." You tried to excuse herself but she frowned.

"I did. And so did you! I mean, the way you made Mahidevran shut up! It was amazing!" She took a piece of sweet and handed it to you. "Besides, my father appreciated your efforts as well-"

You looked down at the bracelet. This was more of a death sentence than a gift.

"Mihirmah." You took off your bracelet. "I- I appreciate the sultan's gift, but I cant accept this. Its too much- its-" you mentally rolled your eyes at your next excuse. "Its above me."

She furrowed her brows. "Even if that may be the case, which its not because you fully deserve that after the showdown, you still cannot refuse or return a sultan's gift, much less one that he made himself!" She tilted her head. "What is really going on? Why do you not want the bracelet? And dont say its not to your taste, because lets face it- you probably have not seen jewels like this in your life."

Biting the inside of your cheek to prevent the insults from slipping out, you took a breath.

"I... heard that..." you took another breath. How do you say "I dont want the bracelet because I dont wanna marry any of your brothers" without sounding narcissistic. "I... I heard that there might be a different meaning behind the bracelet. That it may signify... something else."

"Which is...?" She prompted you.

You exhaled.

"That I might be considered to be... a spouse for a sehzade."

Mihirmah snorted as you looked down to conceal both your embarrassment and fear.

"I'm sorry- what did you say?" She was laughing now. You continued to look down. As long as she's laughing and not getting mad at you for even suggesting such a thing, you're fine. Besides, if she's laughing then it means that all that bullshit Baris was spewing earlier was just that- bullshit.

"You think- my father, the sultan, wants you- YOU, to marry one of his sons?" She wiped a tear away from her eye as she laughed. "That is the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard. True, father does only give handmade gifts to those he considers close, but I dont think thats true in your case, Y/n. You're just my teacher, that's all. Besides, even if you were to be considered as a potential spouse for my brothers, you have my mother and Mahivdevran standing in your way. And trust me, they're going to marry their sons to someone they like. You- they cant even tolerate you as my teacher at this point of time."

Sighing in relief, you nod. "Well, that's great to hear-"

"Wait." Mihirmah narrows her eyes at you. "If you thought that my father wanted to marry you to one of his sons, why did you want to return the bracelet? Did you- did you not want to marry my brother?"

Oh shit. "Mihirmah no-" You tried to pacify her.

But she snapped at you. "What? You think you're better than my brothers? Any of them? You'd be lucky if Mehmed or Mustafa chose you, if such a miracle does happen."

Your eyes were wide at her venomous tone. You dont know whether it was because she was protective of her brothers, or if she just really hated the idea that you would consider rejecting royalty.

A few more moments of silence went by. "You misunderstand me, sultana." You chose her title to please her. "I know of my status, and I am well aware of how... lowly I am to be a part of this family. The only reason I was returning the bracelet was because... I didnt want the harem to assume things and threaten or hurt me. I am aware that the sehzade have their favourite concubines, much better equipped to their tastes. But if they were to see this bracelet gifted by the sultan on me, they would... it would cause misunderstandings. I just wanted to avoid that."

Your words were carefully selected to not aggravate her any further, which it didnt but they also didnt calm her down.

Mihirmah's face was still sour. "The concubines are smart enough to figure out who's a competition and who's just a mere servant. You have nothing to worry about."

The words stung but... you just bowed and took your leave instead of slapping her across the face.

Mehmed had just turned the corner when he saw you leaving Mihirmah's room with tears pooling in your eyes, the niqaab only causing them to look more prominent.

He entered Mihirmah's room, finding his sister looking angry as she gazed into space.

"Mihirmah?" He sat down beside her, noticing how she didnt immediately light up as she always did when he came. What did you do to piss her off so much?

He cupped her face to look at him. "What's wrong? Tell me."

You're laying in your bed, arm over your eyes as you try to think of a way out of here.

When will the time machine work again?

Its not like you can go out of the palace to get help or even tools to work on it, and you always fear that someone just may walk in on you tinkering with the machine. The only place where you can get privacy in this palace here is the dungeons, only because its dark and oh-so-daunting that it doesnt really attract people there.

There's a knock on your door. With a grunt, you get up and open the door, only to find no one there. Your room was in the harem, but it was on the upper floor, so you could see the whole area from above, including the silhouette of someone leaving the harem doors.

Normally, you wouldn't have bothered with the "door bell pranks", but you made your way down because 1. you're not familiar with what this might mean, maybe some royal summoned you and you're to follow the servant. 2. you're bored.

When you left the harem and looked to your left, spotting the back of a girl in red dress, you knew she was baiting you to follow her. So you did, turning around the corridor only to be body slammed to the wall.

3 women surround you, blocking any escape routes. They're all glaring at you, and you recognise their faces. They're the concubines.

You clear your throat. "Well? I suppose you have something to say that you couldnt say in there."

The brunette in front of you narrows her eyes. "Who do you think you are?"

"Why dont you tell me?"

Her glare intensifies. "You think you can just bat your lashes and whore yourself to the sehzade?"

"Heh?"

The raven haired girl on her right grabbed your throat and banged your head against the wall behind. "Dont play dumb! We know you're trying to marry the prince!"

The blonde on the left banged your head against the wall this time, gritting out "Stay away from sehzade Mustafa!"

"And sehzade Mehmed!" the brunette warned, repeating the same assault as the other two.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you rubbed the sore spot on the back of your head. "None of your accusations are true. Unlike you, I actually have a respectable job here-"

"We saw the bracelet! You think you can just prance around here, pretending to be this holy and pure, untainted girl while we work ourselves to the bone to get in bed?!" The brunette screamed at you, getting in your face.

You pushed her away. "First of all, I am not interested in marrying anyone. Secondly, the bracelet means nothing than a job well done. And finally- you seem to mistake your status over me. I dont work for you, or under you. So, this is for earlier-" You slapped her hard across the face, making her fall. The other two were in shock, and you took that as an opputunity to slap them too.

"Now, we're even." You huffed, adjusting your niqaab before turning on your heel to leave. You needed to slap them, not only because you need to let them know they cant bully you, but also because you needed to release some steam. It felt good, you wont lie. You may have even imagined some people's faces as you smacked them-

"Omph!" You're pushed to the ground, flipped over onto your back. You grab on to the hands that are wrapped around your neck, eyes wide as the brunette starts to choke you.

"You stupid bitch!" She screamed as you fought hard to pull her hands away. She yanked the veil off your face, smacking your cheek hard enough to scratch you with her sharp nails.

"Laira stop-" the blonde tried to pull her off you but Laira continued to beat you.

"Hand me the torch!"

"Laira-" The blonde started again but the raven haired grabbed the fire sconce off the wall and handed it to Laira.

You stared in horror as she brought the torch closer to your face, the heat radiating. She grinned manically, one hand still squeezing your throat.

"You're not even that pretty for a sehzade. Did you use black magic on them?" She clicked her tongue, while your eyes were fixated on the torch. "I guess, it wont be futile to ruin your face for guarantee."

"Please no-" she choked you harder with her man hands that you just couldnt seem to pry off, and you sort of became paralysed as the dancing flames took you back to the night in the desert, when the assassins set your tent on fire. Everything slowed down, and noise drowned out like in the movies.

Salauddin. Help-

The flames suddenly vanish from your view as Laira is thrown off you.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" The man roared behind you. Your eyes moved from the shaking concubines to your saviour.

Ibrahim pasha.

"Pasha bey-"

"Shut it. Guards! Throw them to the dungeons!" Ibrahim yelled and automatically, 4 Janisarries appeared from behind him and dragged the wailing girls away.

Ibrahim looks down at you, his eyes shifting from rage to sympathy. He crouches down and helps you sit up, his touch gentle.

"Are you alright, Hatun Y/n?" You're staring at him in a daze, your body has not recovered enough to physically react, almost on autopilot.

Say something.

"Y/n?" He asks again, his brows furrowing as his concern deepens. Why does everything sound so far, so low?

He snaps his fingers near your ear, and your brain finally reacts.

"Y-yes." You tear your gaze away, looking at the fire torch lying on the ground far from you.

Fire. Second time you were almost burnt to death.

"Come on." He helps you up, gently tugging you to follow him. A few shaky steps later, you follow him to your room.

He sat you down on the bed. "There we go." Ibrahim pasha scanned your face for any burns or injuries, noting the nail marks from the slap.

"Baris Agha!" Ibrahim called and a few seconds later, the eunuch stumbled in.

"Yes, pasha- ya Allah, what happened to-"

"Baris." Ibrahim snapped at him. "Get me bandages and healing balm. And keep quiet about this." Baris only nodded before following orders.

You cleared your throat. "I... thank you for saving me, pasha." Ibrahim smiled courteously as he sat on a chair nearby.

"It was my duty. Sultan Suleiman had asked me to keep an eye on you."

Your brows furrowed. "Why?"

Ibrahim looked at the bracelet around your wrist. "I suppose you did something to make him pleased."

He relaxed in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. "So... what happened with the concubines?"

"Misunderstanding." You said dismissively.

"And what that might be?" He prodded. When you didnt reply, he sighed. "I am the pasha, the sultan's right hand. I am supposed to know what happens in the palace."

"Its nothing of significance. You can let the girls out of the dungeon."

"I'm afraid that decision is not upto you." Ibrahim deadpanned. "If you do not wish to tell me, fine. I have other ways of finding out." He made his threat clear and began standing up.

"Wait!" You clenched your niqaab, looking at the veil in your lap. "I'll tell you, but... you cant tell anyone."

Ibrahim stared at you before nodding, sitting back down.

"There may have been a rumour... the cocncubines- they think that the bracelet, a gift from the sultan means that I am... special." You mumbled the last word.

"Special how?"

"They think... that the sultan wants me to be his... daughter-in-law. Actually, they think that I am wooing the sehzades- Mustafa and Mehmed."

"And are you?" He asks immeadiately.

"Of course not!"

"Why not? Anyone would love to marry a prince."

You scoffed. "I would never want to be a part of this family, not even as a teacher."

He raised a brow. "Hate the Ottomans?" You shake your head. "No. But I wouldn't want to be a part of it." You clicked your tongue. "Everyone in this palace is a slave. The concubines, the servants, the wives, the kids, you and me too. The wives of the sultan, they have all the luxuries one could imagine... except for the loyalty of their husband. Not to mention, they have to live in constant fear of being replaced and be in paranoia forever because everyone who is not family, is a threat to her. The kids? If you're born a boy, sure- you are immediately given a superior status, but with such power and princely status also comes with its own drawbacks. The boy will have to always be compete with his brothers, not because he wants to be the next sultan, but for survival."

In Ottoman empire, there was a common practice of fratricide- a tradition where once the next sultan is chosen, the new sultan is allowed LEGALLY to kill his brothers, stepbrothers, nephews and even female relatives (sisters included) as well, so as to get rid of any future competition or betrayal by his own family. In a nutshell, it was done to prevent civil wars.

"If you're born as a girl, then you may have a better chance of survival than your brothers, but that's still not guaranteed. Not to mention, you are raised to be married off to someone that will strengthen the royal family. Not to someone you love." Ibrahim watched you as you continued. "Its not better to be a servant either. Always being threatened, questioned about your loyalty, having to take the fall for the higher ups. The eunuchs, who think they are all high and mighty and control the court, you and I both know that their job to "protect the women of the harem" wasnt even their choice. To be forcefully castrated as children, forcefully ripped from their families, forced to serve the royals... they dont have a choice. I dont have to tell you how degrading it is to be a concubine."

"And me? How am I a slave?" Ibrahim asked.

You smiled sadly. "You know very well, and youre just trying to see how much I know. Your past is not a well kept secret, pasha." You kept quiet, and Ibrahim realised you already knew about his life.

Ibrahim, born as Orthodox Christian, was enslaved during his childhood. He and Suleiman became close friends in their youth, or perhaps forced to convert to Islam and then raised to befriend Suleiman. Suleiman appointed Ibrahim as grand vizier when he took the throne.

"How do you know?" Ibrahim's gaze was sharp. "I know a lot of things, pasha. But dont worry, I have no ill intent. If anything, I want to be as far from this life as possible. Perhaps... you could help me with that?"

He raised a brow. "I dont think that is an option for you right now." At your frown, he explained. "The safest place for a woman like you is here."

"Did you just forget that my face was almost burned off moments ago?"

He chuckled, shaking his hand. "Of course not. But you need to understand that you cannot just up and go without a word, especially after the sultan just gave you a handmade gift, and whether or not it signifies that he's considered you for one of his sons, it does mean that he considers you important. His majesty will not just accept your leave for no reason." Ibrahim leaned forward, clasping his hands. "As for your safety, you can leave that to me. I will make sure no harm befalls you again. I promise."

"But what about the sehzade? The rumours?"

He hummed thoughtfully. "If you're so concerned about that matter, then you should just avoid the princes as much as you can. Keep your niqaab on, continue your lessons with the princess and avoid interacting with people as much as you can."

Well, its not a bad suggestion. If you make yourself scarce and draw less attention to yourself, you can slip out of the palace and leave unnoticed.

"Oh, pasha?" You called him as he stood up to leave. "Can I request you not to tell about this incident to anyone?" You pointed to bruises on your face.

He grinned and nodded. "Of course. But it is not me you should be worried about talking." At your confused face, he chuckled.

"Baris Agha still hasnt returned."

Mihirmah and Mehmed were in your room just a few moments after Ibrahim pasha had fetched the bandages from below and treated your wounds, further confirming that Baris was spreading the news about your attack all over the palace.

"Y/n! Who did this to you?" Mihirmah traced the bruises gently as she sat beside you on the bed, while Mehmed sat in front of you, on the seat previously occupied by Ibrahim pasha- just closer this time.

"I dont know." You lied, pulling yourself away from Mihirmah's concerned touches. Oh you're still mad at her.

Your evasiveness didnt go unnoticed by her, as she dropped her hand and her mouth settled into a thin grim line.

"Why did someone attack you? What happened?" Mehmed asked, cutting the tension.

You shrugged. "I dont know." You fiddled with the niqaab in your lap. There's a big bandage on your cheeks, so while you couldnt exactly wear your veil again, you suppose in a way your face was somewhat covered?

"Probably mistook me for someone else. Or just a misunderstanding." You tried to brush this off.

"Still, it shouldnt warrant such a reaction. We should investigate-" Mehmed started but you shook your head.

"Ibrahim pasha is already looking into the matter. He'll take care of it-"

"I am the sehzade. I will look into this personally." Mehmed stated before leaving the room before anyone could stop him. Ah, to be the knight in shinning armour for a distressed damsel.

You and Mihirmah sat alone now. The air in the room was thick, the silence thicker. Mihirmah glanced at your nonchalant face, your eyes fixated on the ground, not caring how uncomfortable the silence was making the princess.

It was clear she had to break the ice.

"Y/n." She called. "Yes, sultana?" You answered, but your eyes still remained on the ground.

Sultana. Not Mihirmah, like she'd allowed you to call her, but sultana.

She pursed her lips. "I..." She paused. What is she supposed to say? Sorry? The word is as foreign to her as it is to any royal.

"I dont like the things you said this morning." She finally stated. "You shouldnt have said those things."

You resisted the urge to scoff. Is she really trying to pin this on you and make you apologise? Entitled brat-

"You're right, sultana. I was out of line. I suggest we should just stick to our lessons and avoid talking about anything else. I'll be careful not to bring up any other topic." You stated monotonously.

Mihirmah frowned. Why are you saying this? Why are you being so difficult?

"Stop it." She warned. You nodded. "As you wish, sultana. I'll arrange another Quran teacher for you." Your words only enraged her further.

"I said- stop it." She ordered but you're hell bent on making her apologise- a dream, but still. You clicked your tongue. "I suppose I'll hand in my resignation to the sultan and explain to His Majesty that it was my fault for being a useless servant who is just not capable- ow!" You finally looked at her in disbelief.

She pinched you. Mihirmah pinched your arm. Hard.

And she had the gall to glare at you, with some anger and remorse in her eyes.

"What did you do that for?" You spat, hissing as you rubbed the area she'd assaulted. There was going to be a bruise, for sure.

Her frown deepened. "You- I told you to stop, didn't I?!" You watched her trying to contain her rage, her body shaking as she tried not to wrangle you by the neck. "I- I dont want you to leave."

"But sultana-" "Mihirmah. You call me Mihirmah." She emphasised.

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress your smile. "I am just a dispensable servant-" You jumped back when she went to pinch you again.

"Will you stop doing that?!" Your arm still hurt from her first attack. Mihirmah's nostrils flared. "Will you stop acting like a brat?!"

Your throat made a sound of disbelief. "I am acting like a brat?! Have you looked in the mirror recently?"

"Yes and I look very beautiful! Unlike your busted face!"

"Oh so you just get to insult me?" "I am not insulting you! I am DESCRIBING YOU!" She screamed as you glared at her. Mihirmah took a few deep breaths to calm down. "I am not calling you ugly, I was just referring to the bruises on your face. How did you manage to get beat up so badly? Did you not learn anything from my sparring lessons?"

"Sparring lessons? You mean the times where you would flip me on my back or throw me against the wall?" She glared at your accusation. "How is it my fault that you dont fight back?"

Mihirmah's gaze flicked the arm you were holding, the one she'd pinched. "Does it still hurt?" Her voice was much softer this time.

"Would you like me to pinch you back to demonstrate how much it hurt?" You spat back and she scoffed. "I didnt pinch you that hard. You're just sensitive." "Sure, you must only have meaty man fingers." You grumbled as she gasped and smacked your bruised arm, making you hiss.

The two of you glared at each other before Mihirmah wrapped her arms around you and looked up at you with a small pout.

"This doesnt work on me." You muttered, making her grip tighten around you.

"You know you're not a servant." Mihirmah whispered, looking up at you with puppy eyes, but only you knew the real Ronda Rousey in her.

"You're my friend, Y/n. Or the closest thing I have to a sister." "If you were planning on beating up your sister, I'm glad your parents didnt have one."

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment." Mihirmah scolded you. "I dont want you to go. I dont want you to be hurt, either. So just- I'm willing to let things go back to the way they were before this morning, if you are."

You stared down at her. You knew you were never going to get a real apology, Mihirmah was too prideful. You couldnt make her feel ashamed for her actions, or hold her responsible. So, you'll have to make do with this.

"Fine." She broke into a grin and squeezed her arms around you tightly before letting go.

"Now, tell me! Who were these girls who attacked you? I'll skin them with my daggers!" Ignoring her sociopathic tendencies, you shrugged. "I dont know, Mihirmah. I dont know who they were- I'm still new to the palace."

She hummed before her face lit up in realisation. "Wait! Baris Agha did say something about concubines. I'll ask Mehmed too when he returns with more information from Ibrahim pasha!"

While you are trying your best to hide the incident about your attack, unbeknownst to you, the news has spread like wildfire in the palace. A maid saw Mehmed entering Ibrahim pasha's office, and when she reported it to her friend, she then told her about how she overheard the eunuchs talking about a fight breaking out between the concubines and someone else, and then someone added that they saw Ibrahim pasha, Mehmed and Mihirmah in your room, so you were involved too. It wasnt long before this news reached Hurrem and Mahidevran, only this time it was more dramatised.

"The concubines tried to kill Hatun Y/n! It was only by pure luck that sehzade Mehmed saved her! And now her wounds are being tended to by Mihirmah sultana while sehzade Mehmed and Ibrahim pasha are punishing the concubines!" Gul, the chamber maid, told Mahidevran.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes. "Why did they save her? She's just a teacher." The queen didnt understand why the royal children were going through such lengths to get justice for you. Fights in the harem break out all the time.

Gul fumbled with her thumbs, avoiding eye contact with her queen. Mahidevran's frown deepened. "What is it, Gul?"

"I- sultana- I just heard some rumors, its probably not even true-" "Out with it!" Mahidevran snapped.

Gul licked her lips as she spoke. "Um- I overheard that sehzade Mehmed has been... spending a lot of time with Hatun Y/n. Especially after the dinner where Mihirmah sultana recited-"

Mehmed... spending time with you? Why? If he wanted to sleep with you, he could have any girl from the harem. So why you? Why you, a Quran teacher, a conservative girl who covered herself from head to toe? Surely, Mehmed hadnt been bewitched by your physical appearance- not that you had any, in her opinion. And then Suleiman seemed to like you to, so for Mehmed to fancy you would be because-

Mahidevran's eyes widened at the sudden realisation.

"Get me Mustafa. Now!"

"Hatun Y/n was attacked by the concubines! Ibrahim pasha saved her and carried her unconscious form to her room!" A maid reported to Hurrem.

"Why was she attacked?" Hurrem asked, bored.

The maid hesitated to answer. "I am not sure, sultana, but the word is that the concubines were jealous of the attention Hatun Y/n was getting from sehzade Mustafa."

Mustafa? No. What possible business could you have with Mustafa? From the past week's events, Hurrem was told that you'd spend most of your time with her daughter, and only moments with Mehmed when he visited his sister.

"Mustafa isnt interested in Y/n." Hurrem stated, more to herself than to refute the maid's claims.

The girl nodded. "I'm only telling you what I heard, sultana. And... I also saw sehzade Mustafa leaving Mahidevran sultana's chambers to visit Hatun Y/n earlier today, just moments before I came here!"

Hurrem halted as she tried to make sense of the information. Mustafa was out all day because of the hunt, he wasnt supposed to return before dinner. Which means, he was fetched, likely by Mahidevran. Who probably informed him about your attack and now he went to check on you.

But why? Even at the dinner the other day, Hurrem didnt detect any sort of affection from Mustafa for you, or you from him. You both barely glanced at each other.

Maybe he's just checking in on you. That's all it is to it.

"How badly was Y/n injured?" Hurrem inquired.

"I didnt get a chance to see her yet, she's been with Mihirmah sultana since the event, but I heard that her unconscious body had to be carried by Ibrahim pasha himself! And- and that he even bandaged her up-"

"Ibrahim pasha?" Hurrem whispered to herself. What business did he have with you? He could've easily had a servant tend to your wounds, so why did he personally do it himself?

Ibrahim. Mustafa. Mahidevran. What are they upto? Hurrem knows Ibrahim doesnt like her, that he favours Mahidevran and Mustafa over her, that he wants Mustafa to be the next sultan-

Hurrem's heart sinks as she pieces it together.

"Get me Mehmed. Now!"

Suleiman was having dinner with his family. Both of his families- Mahidevran and Mustafa joined him tonight as well. He was happy to have them together, all well and healthy.

Except... something was off.

Suleiman's gut could sense it. The children were making small talk, his wives as well, but he could tell. There was some sort of tension.

It was Mihirmah that made him finally speak up.

"Mihirmah." He called out the girl who was playing with her food. "You've barely eaten. What's wrong?"

The room immediately fell dead silent, the attention now focusing on Mihirmah.

She smiled nervously, taking a small bite. "I'm fine, baba."

But Suleiman could see that her usual bubbling aura was somewhat depressing. "Mihirmah." He called her name more sternly, and this time, her smile faltered as she finally spilled.

"I'm just worried for Y/n."

Suleiman frowned. And when he looked at everyone else, it was clear that they knew something he wasn't aware of.

"What happened?"

Baris Agha was having fun riling you up. "So, you're telling me that both sehzade Mustafa and Mehmed, the two crown princes racing to be the next sultan, are visited you?" He snickered as you shot him a glare. "Can I just suggest you to remove the niqaab for the wedding-"

"Baris! Shut up!" You raged at him. "Dont think I dont know you were the one spreading the lies about-" "Lies? About what? About you being attacked? By concubines who are jealous of your- I dont know, I'm sorry what it is that these men seem to be enraptured with-"

There are hurried, intense knocks on the door. Baris opens the door as a servant stumbles in, out of breath.

"Hatun Y/n! Sultan Suleiman has summoned you! Now!" His tone signified that you're not to waste time.

"Why did he call for me?" You whisper to Baris as the two of you rush down the hallways.

"Perhaps he wants to formally ask you to marry one of his sons-" "Baris!" He grinned. "What? I have a sixth sense-" "YOU HAVE NO SENSE!" You yelled. "Have more sense than you." Baris grumbled.

"Why are you even following me? Dont you have a job?" You wanted him to stop vexing you.

He snorted. "And what? Miss out on all the fun? Besides, you know as the future sultana, you will need me-"

"I swear, as soon as I'm finished meeting the sultan, I am going to throw you off the roof."

The two of you turned the corner leading to the royal dining hall, and you bumped face first into Ibrahim pasha's back, the man catching you by the arms before you fell on your ass.

"P-pasha? What are you doing here?" You asked, backing up once you got your footing.

"Sultan sent for me. What are you doing here?" Ibrahim asked, equally confused.

"He summoned me as well. What do you think its about?" You watched the cogwheels in his mind turn and the realisation dawn on him.

"The attack earlier." He exhaled, closing his eyes as he tried to figure out his next steps. "We cant- you cant tell him the truth!"

"You want me to lie to the sultan?" He rose his brows. "Please, Ibrahim! I- I told Mihirmah and Mehmed and then Mustafa that I didnt know who the attackers were, or why they attacked me! If you tell them the truth-"

"Y/n." He grabbed your shoulders, staring into your worried eyes. "I promised to protect you, didnt I? I intend on keeping my promises."

You both entered the dining room together, bowing to the royal family sitting there.

"Y/n." You looked up at the sultan. "Is it true? Were you attacked?"

You were quiet for a few moments, resisting the urge to glance at Ibrahim to figure what to say, before nodding hesitantly.

"Y-yes, sultan." You trailed your eyes back to the ground. These people, they were warriors. They didnt have any technology back then, and they had to rely on body language to read people.

And you didnt want to risk him catching you in a lie.

"Are you alright?" Suleiman's voice was much softer now. "Did you go to the infirmary?"

"I'm well now, sultan. Thank you for asking." You meekly answered. "I was saved in time, thanks to Ibrahim pasha."

Mahidevran's eyes narrowed at you. Ibrahim saved you? Of course, you'd lie about that, so that no one would suspect you and Mehmed getting close. She thought to herself.

"Ah, Ibrahim pasha." Suleiman's voice turned serious. "You were the one who saved Y/n?"

"Yes, sultan." Ibrahim confirmed.

"And you have the attackers in custody?"

"Yes, sultan."

Suleiman slammed his fist on the table, rattling everyone. "Then why the hell wasnt I informed of it?!" Ibrahim kept his head down as the sultan continued to rage. "Why does everyone seem to be aware of this matter, except me?! Answer me, Ibrahim!"

Hurrem couldnt help the smile that curled on her lips. She was glad to see Ibrahim getting in trouble, perhaps Suleiman will finally get rid of him for once and for all-

"It's my fault, your majesty!" You announced suddenly, and everyone's focus shifted to you. "I- I was- I was shaken up from the attack and I- I made the pasha stay with me. I was too scared- I didnt think I was safe- so Ibrahim pasha left to make arrangements to assure me I was safe! He was busy because of me. I'm sorry! If- if anyone should be punished, it should be me!"

You held your hands together tightly to stop them from trembling. The room fell silent at your explanation, with you and Ibrahim holding your breaths.

"Is this true, Ibrahim?" Suleiman broke the silence.

"Yes, my sultan." Ibrahim answered. "After I had saved Hatun Y/n, I wanted to assure her of her safety, so I was busy interrogating the concubines who attacked her. After they confessed, I wanted to check if anyone else in the harem had any ill intentions for Hatun Y/n, so I was engaged in checking everyone who could be a possible threat. I was on my way to inform you, but you summoned me before I could."

"Concubines? Why did they attack Y/n?" Suleiman asked, wanting to know the result of his interrogation.

Ibrahim answered without missing a beat. "They were jealous of Hatun Y/n's bracelet." You looked at him but the pasha kept his eyes ahead at the sultan. "From what I gathered, Hatun Y/n refused to give up His Majesty's handmade gift, and when she put up a fight to defend your present, she was subjected to a harsh beating and had her face almost burned."

Suleiman's eyes widened. "Burned? Because of a bracelet?"

"It was what the bracelet represented, my sultan." Ibrahim's statement made your heart sink. He better not tell him about the "daughter-in-law" theory.

"The concubines think that you... favour Y/n over them." Ibrahim's words set fire to your cheeks and you had to bite your lip to suppress the gasp you almost let out.

Ibrahim decided to change the "daughter-in-law" theory to "3rd wife/bedwarmer theory".

"What rubbish?!" Suleiman slammed his fist on the table again, and perhaps everyone in the room was silently grateful for his rage and disbelief, as it disapproved the theory and quelled any future rumours. "I only see Y/n as my daughter, nothing else! How dare they slander me like that?! How dare they hurt someone I care about?! Ibrahim, execute those wretched concubines!"

Your eyes widened at the order. Preventing their death sentence was the only reason you lied and kept this charade up. You cant risk more people dying and history changing forever because of you!

"Y-your majesty!" You fell to your knees, your voice wet. "I- I beg you- I beg you on the behalf of the concubines, please- have mercy!"

Everyone watched in surprise as you cried for mercy for... your attackers?

"You... want me to forgive them? Despite what they did to you?" Suleiman asked, watching in disbelief at your tears wetting your niqaab.

"It- it was wrong- but please, they're just- they're just young girls. They made a mistake, they shouldnt pay with their lives!" You tried to come up with better reasoning. Aha!

"Sultan, I- we are Muslims. You are a role model for Muslims all over the world right now- but you have a role model as well- someone you havent met or seen, but you follow his advices and footsteps every day. Its Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)- and- and he advices us to be forgiving and merciful." Ibrahim watched you try to persuade the king.

"On the Day of Judgement, when we beg and grovel Allah for forgiveness, would He not forgive us happily if we show mercy to His creatures? If we forgive His mankind?" You pleaded and Suleiman was touched by your words, so-much-so that he walked over to you and pulled you by your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your veiled forehead.

"You're too kind, Y/n." He whispered, before nodding at Ibrahim. "Dont kill the concubines. But find a fitting punishment for them, Ibrahim." The pasha bowed his head obediently.

"And find Y/n her personal chambers in the royal wing." Suleiman stated, making everyone surprised.

No. Room in the royal wing only meant more contact with the royals themselves. This was the last thing you needed-

"Your majesty-" He held up a hand. "Dont protest, Y/n. You were hurt because of my present and while I appreciate that you defended it, I do not wish to see you hurt. Ibrahim, find her a room and shift her there by tonight. And assign a few guards and servants to Y/n as well. I dont want her to feel unsafe again." Suleiman looked at Ibrahim with a serious expression. "I trust her in your hands, Ibrahim."

"Of course, your majesty." Ibrahim nodded.

Suleiman looked back at you, a gentle smile on his face. "I would like you to join us for dinners now." He gently pushed your back and Mahidevran immediately scooted a bit closer to Suleiman's seat and patted the space beside her... and next to Mustafa.

Hurrem glared at the blatant display of intentions- Mahidevran showed her "generosity and humbleness" by letting you sit next to her to please Suleiman, and also make you sit next to her son to get close with.

At this moment, both queens are under the impression that Suleiman wants you to be his future daughter-in-law, so both women think that the other is making her son court you because the first one to marry you will produce a heir, further legitimising the prince's claim to the throne and becoming the next sultan, especially since Suleiman views you to be the perfect, pious woman who would be the perfect mother for his grandkids.

The only difference is- Mahidevran wants you to be Mustafa's spouse, not because she thinks you're a good match for her perfect son, but because she wants to speed up Mustafa's claim to the throne. She knows Suleiman prefers Hurrem over her (Hurrem's five kids are proof of that), and since she has no child other than Mustafa, Mahidevran is at disadvantage and she needs every advantage she can get, no matter how savoury it is- like you.

Hurrem on the other hand, does not want you as her Mehmed's spouse, because you're not what she had in mind for her precious son. She wants someone soft, demure, submissive, beautiful and more importantly- someone she can control. But she also knows what game Mahidevran is playing, and since Hurrem doesnt want Mustafa trying to steal the throne from Mehmed, Hurrem will have to just- get rid of you.

"So... the sultan just said that outloud?" Baris ate a date from the fancy table in your brand new chambers. "He just announced that you're his "daughter" to everyone?" He heard you groan a yes from your place on the bed- face buried in the pillows.

"And Mahidevran sultana made you sit between her and sehzade Mustafa?" He heard you groan another "yes".

Baris plopped down next to you. "So you're marrying Mustafa. Huh, didnt bet on that-"

"You bet on this?" You asked miserably, finally pulling your head up. "Of course, need to make money. Unlike you, not everyone has the oppurtunity to marry into royalty-"

You smack a pillow right across his face. "If I hear you talk about marriage again, I will strangle you."

Baris rolled his eyes, fixing his hair that you'd messed up. "I dont know why you're so upset. Did you want to sit next to Mehmed instead? If so, maybe I can still win the bet-"

"I dont want either of them!" You stated frustratedly, sitting up. "Do you not get it- I dont want to be a part of royalty! They're- they're all mad! My life would be in constant threat- from jealous concubines, possessive mother-in-laws, throne hungry princes. I dont want that!"

"Is it because you want Ibrahim pasha?"

You blinked at him. What? "What?"

Baris rubbed his chin. "Oh come on, I saw the way you two looked at each other before you entered the dining room- how the pasha promised to protect you, even from the sultan's wrath."

"Are you like- fishing for anything? For fun?" You shake your head at him.

Baris gave you a look. "Really? What about you going in and lying to protect him? He didnt even say anything before you took the chance to save him."

"I saved him because it was the right thing to do! Not because I love him!" You exclaimed, throwing your hand in the air. "If this is how you think, please- PLEASE resist the urge to ever help me! I dont want a proposal coming from you just because you saved me from choking."

Baris glared at you. "First of all- I'm never going to be as blind as the sehzade when it comes to love. Secondly, you'd be lucky to have me as a husband. At least your offspring will have a chance at looking somewhat normal-" You lunged at him and put him in a chokehold while Baris grabbed at your hijaab covered head to pull you off.

Your fighting match is brought to a halt as someone knocks on the door.

Mustafa stands outside your door, surprised to see Baris looking slightly disheveled when he opened your door.

"Baris? What are you doing here?" Mustafa asked, watching the eunuch fix his collar.

"Ah sehzade! Oh I was just helping Hatun Y/n adjust to her room. Shift her things in here." Baris faked a smile.

Mustafa nodded before lowering his voice. "Is she awake?"

"Yes yes- please come in." Mustafa walked inside just as you appeared out of the wooden divider screen, adjusting your niqaab.

"Sehzade." You gave him a courtesy. "How may I help you?"

Mustafa gave you a gentle smile, his moustache quirking up handsomely. "I would like to ask you to spend the day with me tomorrow."

You froze, and you didnt dare look at Baris who you knew was sporting a smug look because you didnt want to throw your shoe at his face in front of the prince.

"I- I think I am busy with Mihrimah sultana tomorrow-"

"No, I asked her. She said she's happy to skip her lessons for tomorrow." Mustafa cut your excuse. "I'll come by after breakfast. Good night, Y/n."

Even though Mustafa said he'll see you after breakfast, which for royals was just an hour before noon, you were woken up by Baris at the ass crack of dawn.

"Baris! What the hell?" You glared at him when he yanked the covers off you. Baris grinned at you. "As much as I'd like to believe in beauty sleep, its so not helping in your case. Come on, you need a bath and a lot of other stuff!"

He'd brought fine silk gowns and matching niqaabs (which you insisted on wearing despite Baris voicing his displeasure).

Currently, one of the maids had just finished doing your eye makeup- which in this case was kohl, and some dried berries crushed to a fine powder to make a rouge sort of shade.

"Since your eyes may be the only thing the prince sees, we need to make them bewitching!" Baris had commented before spraying you down with a lot of perfume.

"That's enough!" You push the bottle away as you coughed at the musky, earthy perfume. "Isnt that for men?" You ask coughing.

Baris's grin only widened. "Its sehzade Mustafa's favourite attar! I had to bribe his chamber servant to tell me this. And you my darling-" He sprayed you again. "-need to smell like him so that he thinks you two are a perfect fit!"

"That is literally the stupidest thing I've heard-" your insult is cut short as your vision is blinded by Baris flipping up your veil to reveal your lower half of the face and him applying some crushed berries juice to your lips.

"Just in case you have a change of morals and want to kiss the prince." He jumped back when you tried to slap him.

Soon, Mustafa came to fetch you. You two were currently walking through the royal gardens, with you giving curt answers so that he would lose interest in you and leave you alone.

Your dismissal didnt go unnoticed by him. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Read." You answer looking at the well cut hedges. "Have you been to the royal library?" He looks down at you, finding you gazing at the flowers. "Yes. I've already read all of the books there." In college, of course.

"All of them?" His disbelief makes you look at him. Finally. Mustafa thinks.

"Of course." You answer, offended.

"Even the royal ancestry book?" Mustafa raises a brow at you.

"Yes." Your brows furrow. "Ask me anything."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "I doubt you know more about my ancestors than me."

When he looked back at you, you were still looking at him expectantly.

"Ask me."

Mustafa's curiosity got the best of him at your determination.

"This is- this is incredible." Mustafa commented, his eyes wide as he looked at the ancestry book from where he basically quizzed you. He didnt know he was talking to a historian who had pulled all nighters for pretty much every major empire for finals.

"How did you learn all of this?" He asks you, still double checking your answers.

"Oh... I have good memory." You mutter, making him shake his head at you with an amusing smile.

"Of course, I should've figured. You're a hafidha, you're passionate for learning." And passionate for making money in trivias.

Mustafa closes the book. "So, since you've read every book in here, I suppose you must be bored?" He doesnt wait for an answer when an idea pops in his mind. "Come on, lets go."

You follow him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. "Go where?"

"To get you new books." He looks over his shoulder and gives you charming grin.

Your steps falter. New books? "We're leaving the palace?" He hums.

You havent left the palace since you came here, mostly because you havent been able to leave.

You match his pace. "Lets go!" And Mustafa finally sees you excited for the first time today.

With a few Janissaries and some disguise, you all head out into Istanbul. You're looking around the city like a kid in a candy store, only you're looking for a something or someone to help you fix your time machine.

The market comes into view along with the sound of hawkers trying to attract customers. Of course, the only shopkeeper who wasnt yelling was the blacksmith, allowing his hammer to garner the attention of serious clients.

He could be of use. If you're able to find some tools, maybe even get some metal films, you could try to spark a charge and trigger the time machine to work.

You start to take a few steps towards him when Mustafa grabs your shoulder and pulls you back to him. "Where are you going? Stay close to me. I dont want to lose you." He tells you, almost in a chiding tone, but his hands carefully pulling your robes around you said otherwise.

He lead you towards a bookshop. Mustafa nodded at you to go ahead, explore and get any book you want. He'll buy it.

While you were busy browsing, Mustafa couldnt help but steal glances at you. He didnt understand why he was doing this- he couldnt really see your face, or anything except for your eyes.

Your eyes, they were pretty but its not their beauty that really captivates him. Its the swirl of emotions in them. The mystery in them, like there's... more to you. Like you're hiding something.

Perhaps it was your mannerisms. Your dismissive nature, your tendency to not be impressed easily by their eccentricities or status, almost as if you've lived with royalty before.

Maybe he likes how different you treat him him. How you dont bend over backwards to please his family, or try to pursue him or his brothers. In fact, you almost seem to be avoiding them altogether.

You intrigue him. Badly. Amusingly. Adorably.

"I dont understand! Where could she have gone?" Mihirmah whined to her brother at lunch. Mehmed only raised a brow. "Who? Y/n? She might be in her room recovering from yesterday's events. She was pretty shaken up-"

"I already checked! She's not there!" Mihirmah sighed before laying her head in his lap, and he began patting her hair. "She went out with Mustafa but she still hasnt returned! Its lunch time and I planned on teaching her sword fight! For self defense, you know- so that she doesnt get beat up like last time."

Mehmed's hand stopped patting. "She's with Mustafa?"

She nodded. "Since morning!"

"Huh." Mihirmah sat up, looking at her brother puzzled.

"What? What is it?" She asked him.

"Nothing." He faked a smile, but Mihirmah knew him like the back of her hand. "Mehmed. Tell me."

"I just... dont understand why Mustafa is spending time with her." He stated, standing up to walk to the balcony. "She's your teacher. What business does Mustafa have with her?"

Mihirmah watched her brother stiffen suddenly, watched the way his jaw ticked as he looked down the balcony. She stood up and joined him, following his gaze to see what he was looking at.

Its you. And Mustafa. Finally returning to the palace, servants holding piles of books following behind you two. What's even more bizarre is to see Mustafa smiling down at you while you giggled, covering your mouth despite the niqaab, making you look even more bashful.

Even Mihirmah hadnt ever seen you so joyful, and yet here you are- laughing so gleefully with her eldest brother. Step brother.

It rubbed her off the wrong way.

"You want her?" She asked him, her voice so hollow that it made Mehmed look at her.

"What?"

Mihirmah looked at him, her eyes stern. "Do. You. Want. Her?"

Unwavering determination. Thats what he saw in his sister's face.

Say the word, and it'll be done.

Mehmed stared at her.

"Yes."

"I hope you had a good time." Mustafa asked you as he walked you to your chambers. You nodded. "I did. Thank you, sehzade." Despite your best attempts at dismissing him, Mustafa was very persistent at breaking down your walls. And sure, part of you giggled and pretended to be flustered at his words, you mainly acted cordial so that he may take you out of the palace more often. He was your only way out at the moment.

You both stopped outside your door, the servants walking past you to place your books inside. Mustafa looked satisfied.

"If you ever need to go outside again, feel free to come to me, Y/n." He offered, before taking out a small box from his pocket and handing it to you.

Your heart dropped. A ring? Now? This fast? No no no no no-

You opened the box and you felt life returning back to you. It was a gold broach adorned with rubies and a diamond in the center, encaged in an intricate heart pattern.

"I may not share my father's gift of handcrafting jewels, but I do happen to be skilled at acquiring precious jewels on my conquests." Mustafa informed you as he took the broach from the box and looked at you for permission before pinning it to your hijab, just below your collar bone.

You were too stunned to stop him or even turn down the gift, though Mustafa took your silence as awe.

He adjusted the broach.

"Perfect." He whispered, looking into your eyes.

You watched him leave with a grin, finally able to breathe when he was out of sight.

With a sigh, you enter your chambers, half expecting Baris to be sprawled over your bed waiting to tease you for details on your outing.

What you werent expecting was... her.

"Did you have fun?" The sultana asked, her eyes sharp. "I've been waiting for you, Y/n. Lets have a chat, hm?"

Shit.

"You're abnormal." Your hands stop adjusting your hijab as you glare at him through the mirror.

"What?"

Baris tilted his head. "You're abnormal." He repeated.

You turn around from the vanity and glare at him. "Is this another way of calling me ugly?"

"Tch. No, I have words for that." He shook his head. "I meant, you've been acting weird since yesterday, after you returned from your secret outing with sehzade Mustafa."

"You're imagining things." You mumble, turning back to the vanity mirror and picking up the broach Mustafa gave you.

Baris scoffed. "I am not. I may have been busy with the younger royal kids yesterday, but I did manage to catch a glimpse of you giggling and blushing when you returned with the prince." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So that means, the day went good. Something happened on the way to your chambers." He narrowed his eyes at you. "Did you kiss him?"

You whipped your head. "Baris!" He palmed his face. "Sorry, I forgot you're the religious prude. Did he kiss you?"

"No, Baris! No one kissed anyone." You began pinning the broach to your hijab, the same area where Mustafa had placed it yesterday. But you werent able to, too frustrated at the interrogation.

Baris grabbed the broach from you and pinned it in place. "So, you two didnt kiss, bought you enough books to make a you a scholar, and gifted you this broach, and you're disturbed because...?"

You frowned. "I am not disturbed. You're just reading too much into this."

"Fine, dont tell me. I'll find out on my own." You walked past him to teach your Quran lesson.

As much as you'd like to think that you're sly, Baris is right. Something did happen. After you'd returned to your room, you were met there by Mahidevran sultana.

You were reasonably scared because you thought that she's here to torture you or even kill you because you've been "seducing Mustafa" or whatever rumour Baris has spread about you.

But you were surprised when she told you that she wants you and Mustafa together, in marriage. As soon as possible. For the next half hour, Mahidevran basically told you all about the likes and dislikes of her son so that you would accustom yourself to them and then emphasised how supportive she would be of you to be her daughter-in-law. She even encouraged you to... sleep with him, she didnt say it directly but you got the meaning behind her words.

At the end of her lecture, she warned you to not spend time with Hurrem or any of her offsprings, besides Mihirmah because you are her teacher and even then told you to keep your interaction strictly formal and minimum.

When she was about to leave, she spotted the broach on your clavicle and beamed, almost proudly so. When you confirmed that Mustafa gave it to you, and started to take it off to return it to her, she stopped you and told you to wear it everyday. EVERYDAY.

"My son has given you something. You should be honoured. Cherish it." Mahidevran ordered.

The main reason you didnt tell Baris about Mahidevran and her confusing but threatening demands to court Mustafa was because of Baris's blabber mouth that couldnt hold a secret if his life depended on it.

And you have enough on your plate as it is.

You enter Mihirmah's chambers, bowing as you spot her.

"Ah! Welcome! Sit, sit!" Mihirmah pats down the seat next to her and you're slightly suspicious of her energy.

She's upto something.

You sit down beside her, opening the Quran. "I think we should start with-" She closed the book in your hands.

"In a minute. Lets talk first, hm?" She smiled at you. "How was your day off yesterday? Well rested?"

Your shoulders sag slightly. Of course, she wants to know about your day out with Mustafa. Baris probably blabbered something to spark her curiosity like this.

"Yes. A much needed break. Quite refreshing." You tell her, purposely keeping away from the details, lest she gets the wrong idea again and accuses you of whoring around your "ugly self" to her brother.

"Mmhm. Had fun with Mustafa?" Her sharp tone made you look at her.

Is she implying something?

"The prince was kind enough to get me some books." You told her cautiously, trying to ease the tension. "I think you'd like some of them-"

"Mustafa sleeps around." You blinked at her. What were you supposed to do with this unsolicited information.

"Okay...?"

She shrugged, picking up her cup of tea. "I'm just saying- he's been with a lot of women. The other day I was reading a verse from Quran where it mentioned adultery. Then I realised- thats what Mustafa is. An adulterer."

"You read Quran without me making you-"

"Mustafa is an adulterer, Y/n. Allah will not forgive him. He's doomed for hell."

"Actually, if he repents sincerely-"

"He's doomed, Y/n. Doomed." She reiterated.

"By that logic, so are most of your ancestors. I think most men, kings and princes commit adultery-"

"Mehmed doesnt." She stared at you. "He's never slept with anyone. He's a good Muslim man. Allah will be pleased with him."

What is going on here? "Um... okay. That's great news for sehzade Mehmed."

"And for you." Mihirmah announced. "You are the lucky one."

"What?"

She let out a sigh of frustration, as if she has to state the obvious. "Mehmed likes you- no, he loves you-" "Loves me?" "Shh! I'm still talking. You have caught his eye for some reason, so you should end whatever it is that you have with Mustafa and be loyal to my brother."

The room was silent, the two of you staring at each other- you, in confusion. Mihirmah, in determination.

A crow croaked outside.

"First of all, I have nothing going on with sehzade Mustafa. Secondly, Mehmed said he loves me?" You asked while trying not to show resentment.

Mihirmah scoffed. "He doesnt have to say it, I know it."

Your tension deflates to some extent. Okay, so she's just making up stuff. This can be handled.

"Mihirmah, I understand how-" you resist the urge to roll your eyes "-you may think Mehmed may be attracted to me, I am honoured, really. But I can assure you, Mehmed does not love me."

"No, I love you." Your head whips around at the sound of his voice.

Mehmed. He's standing behind you.

"Sehzade-" you begin standing up to bow to him, but he holds up a hand.

"Mihirmah's right. I love you." Mihirmah beamed proudly at standing correct.

Your eyes could only widen in horror as Mehmed sank down to sit right beside you, and with Mihirmah on your other side, you were trapped between the siblings.

"I. Love. You." Mehmed repeated, his hazel eyes staring into yours.

After several moments of silence, a crow croaked again. Mihirmah nudged you to say something.

"Um-" You cleared your throat. "Ugh... thank you."

Mehmed's brows shot up in surprise while Mihirmah broke into a fit of laughter.

"Thank... you?" Mehmed asked, and you would've thought he was mad if it werent for the amused smile on his face.

Mihirmah continued to laugh, and you had to look back at her to make her stop. "I-I'm sorry, Mehmed- this was- this was just too funny. I mean, she has a prince, the next heir of the empire confess her love and all she says is "thank you"?" She said, chuckling as she wiped the tear from her eye.

Mehmed glared at her playfully. "Well, maybe she's just shy around you." Why are they talking about you like you're not right there?

Mihirmah hummed, then nodded. "Perhaps you're right. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. I have to do something-"

"What? Why? You dont have anything to do." You stopped her from standing up. You dont want to be alone with Mehmed.

"I do!" She narrowed her eyes at you.

"Like what?"

"Like-" her eyes zeroed in on your broach. "-pretty. Mustafa gave it?"

"Yes-" you yelped as she grabbed it and pulled it off you, ripping the niqaab it was pinned with along.

"Mihirmah!" Mehmed yelled at her, his eyes stern. You could only stare at her in disbelief before turning away from Mehmed to hide your bare face now.

"Oops! I'm sorry Y/n! I'll go get you a new niqaab- this one is all torn!" She said without an ounce of remorse before leaving the room.

Mehmed shakes his head as he watched her leave, before turning his attention to you- or well, your back.

"Y/n?" He called out to you softly. "I'm sorry for Mihirmah. She... she doesnt mean you any harm. She's just- she sometimes doesnt realise how hurtful her actions can be when she's trying to help someone."

When you didnt reply, Mehmed grew slightly worried. "Y/n?" He sighed when you didnt reply. An idea popped in his head as he looked around the room before looking down.

You heard the sound of cloth ripping, your heart dropping as you assumed the worst. He wasnt going to-

Your head turned around just as Mehmed's hands encircled around your head, a red cloth blocking your view of him.

"Mehmed?" You whispered, scared. His frozen hands seemed to snap out of it and began encircling round your head, the red cloth in his grip brought closer to your face. Thats when your eyes landed on the bottom of his red shirt (kemis). It was ripped.

Mehmed had torn his shirt to make a niqaab for you.

His eyes were focused on tying the makeshift veil, securing it before they landed on you.

"Y/n?" He called your name gently again, his concern growing at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes. He softly sighed as a his hand reached up to wipe a tear that escaped your eye.

"You're that scared of me?" After a few moments, you sniffled as more tears escaped your eyes and you shook your head. "Then?" When you didnt reply, or couldnt as you continued to cry mutely, he took it as a sign that you were humiliated because of Mihirmah removing your veil.

He took a deep breath and cupped your face gingerly before pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

"My mind is occupied by you. I think about you all the time. Perhaps...I only think about you, moon." He wiped another tear with his thumb. "I love you, my moon. I fear I... I love you too much. My heart holds so much love for you, I can hardly call it my own anymore." He then kissed your teary eyes one by one.

"I know you... you dont love me yet, but one day, when you find yourself being generous, I want you to be the one holding my heart in your hands. Its yours, moon. Yours."

Baris waited with a few guards and servants outside Mihirmah's room, when Mehmed left the room with a satisfied smiled on his face. Baris noted the bottom of his torn shirt but before he could comment on it, Mehmed asked him where Mihirmah was.

"She went to see sehzade Mustafa. Shall I fetch her?" Mehmed waved him off, saying he'll go get her himself, after all- Mihirmah still had to finish her lesson with you.

Mehmed had just turned around the corner when you came out of the room.

"Y/n-" Baris called out to you but you sped past him, and he didnt chase after you when he saw your red eyes.

He'll tease you later, when you're not so sad. For now, he has to report the sight of this to someone.

Even if Mihirmah hadnt bumped into Mustafa and proudly showed off the broach he'd gifted you, the news would've still somehow made its way to him by the servants whispers.

"Oh this broach? Its pretty, isnt it?" Mihirmah smirked, showing it off to Mustafa. "Y/n gave it to me."

"She... gave it to you?" His gift. You gave it away?

She nodded. "Mmhm. She said it wasnt that precious to her, so she gave it. She was going to throw it away, but it went well with my dress so I took it."

You were going to discard his gift? Just like that?

"Mihirmah. There you are." Mehmed walked over to her. "Mustafa." He greeted his brother.

"Mehmed." He looked at his shirt. "What happened to your shirt?"

Mehmed grinned. "Nothing." He then looked at Mihirmah. "Come on, Y/n is waiting for you. I talked to her."

Mustafa could only watch the two siblings beam at each other as the taste in his mouth soured.

His broach. Torn shirt. Mehmed "talked" to you.

Mahidevran could feel her blood boil at the complaints Mustafa brought to her. Even if he didnt, the maids she'd hired to spy on you had already reported of everything they'd witnessed. You and Mehmed alone in Mihirmah's room.

Did you not understand a single word she said? Does she need to give you a more stern warning this time?

"Hurrem must've put them upto this." She muttered, before her gaze flickered to her worried son. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dont worry, Mustafa. I will fix this. You focus on Y/n, hm? You deserve her, my lion."

So? How was it?

Part 10 is here!

#time traveller au #ottoman empire #ottoman #yandere baldwin #yandere Salauddin #yandere x you #yandere x #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yandere #yandere x darling

973 notes · View notes

ajortga · 5 months ago

Text

love at first glance

pairing: tara carpenter x bass guitarist!fem reader

word count: 5.5k+

summary: in which tara admires your bass skills, then admires you even more.

author's note: please bear with me, i don't know what i'm doing but i'm just hoping these scrambled words just go well. tv girl mentioned!

based off request!

tara carpenter x masc! fem reader and reader is in a band, maybe like lead guitarist or bass? but like tara goes to a concert with all of the core 4 (+anika cuz i miss her) and like is mesmerized by reader. maybe they make eye contact during a song or sum? they leave the concert and tara is still thinking about reader and reader is still thinking about tara. cut to like later maybe at a party or a bar and they bump into each other and chop it up, but reader is like awkward-ish?

You’ve always had a love for anything that was related to music. Your parents made you take singing lessons ever since you were little.

At first, you hated it. Singing Mary Had a Little Lamb in different keys was not entertaining. But as you grew older and probably didn’t need to sing that song every practice, you began to use your house’s grand piano that was left untouched for years. And then, being able to sing and knowing your keys inside and out wasn’t so bad after all.

You spent countless times in the living room, the echo of your voice lingering against your house as you learned your favorite songs.

You wrote songs and composed as you experimented with your voice and the keys. It was almost never surprising when your parents caught you up late at night under your pillow, pencil scratching notes across lined pieces of paper. In every single talent show, audition, or musical, your name would be signed. Everyone in your family knew that one day, you’d grow to be a musician.

People would even begin to see you whenever they were at warehouses and you’d be playing a piano. At every gathering, your relatives would ask, “Where is that little Y/N?” And your parents would look at each other with a knowing glance, both saying confidently, “Probably in the living room with that damn piano.”

You loved listening to music, making music, playing music, feeling your emotions in music, god, every time you’d go out, your earphones would be in your pockets.

So when you were gifted an acoustic guitar for your 12th birthday, to say the least, you were fucking thrilled. Instead of playing the piano 7 days a week, you’d play guitar for half those days. Gosh, was it hard learning a string instrument after playing piano for half your life? Maybe. But you loved it.

You’d practice and practice, gradually getting better, then you’d play the electric and bass. And was the bass guitar a hell of a sound, you loved it.

Then, the best thing ever happened to you. You had grouped up with your friends and quickly became a band with all your talents combined. Slowly but surely, did you begin to realize how far you had gone. Because in a blink of an eye, you were at concerts, fingers pressing down on your strings as it electrified through stadiums and arenas while people cheered.

Cheered for you. That’s something you’ll never regret in your entire life.

You turn your bass’s machine head, plucking each string as you tune them before your concert. Nights like this never get old, you’d always be left with the adrenaline from every concert, like your body was refreshed when you slept under your hotel room’s covers.

As your hair and makeup stylist’s makeup brush dabs across your cheeks, you trace the outline of your bass guitar and look at yourself in the mirror. Layered hair, a black tank top over your toned arms, hidden beneath a red leather jacket. Your favorite part would probably be your nails painted red to compliment your hands. You had to keep them short though.

What would this night bring you? Everytime you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the faint echo of your bass vibrating through, lights swaying into the crowd, a smile forming on your face.

Every night had something different, there were different people, a different crowd, it makes you feel different every time. Yet you still feel the thrill and pride swell against your chest.

Junia, one of your closest friends that plays the drums, pops her head in. “You look hot,” she grins, “Jess said she’d come to pick us up at 40. You’re going to kill it, Bass.”

Bass. What an original nickname, you lean your chin into your palm as you raise your eyebrows, “You know it, June.”

7:45.

Tara looks at herself in the mirror, Mindy and Chad screaming at each other while playing Jenga in the background. She pushes a stubborn strand of hair away from her eyelashes while she curls them.

“CHEATER!-” Mindy yells, making the brunette flinch and breathe in frustration. She was not going to get her eyelashes pulled out.

After Tara was done with a cropped graphic tee, a jean skirt, and a cute little white bow in her hair, she walked through the hallway and into the living room, still adjusting her gold hoops.

There, Anika and her sister seemed the sanest out of them all. On the other hand, the twins were fighting over the remote.

“Babies,” Sam mutters, pushing her dark brown hair back.

Anika pulls the remote out of both of their hands easily while Chad mutters ‘what the fuck’ under his breath.

It was like being in a daycare. Tara ate a cookie while watching Anika throw the remote onto the sofa, wearing a lace tank top with jeans, “Mindss, why don’t we just leave the remote and find something else. Your hair is getting all poofy.”

“And a little dingussy,” Chad adds.

Mindy smacks him, “Don’t ever use ‘dingussy’ to describe something. It sounds sexual.”

Before they could say furthermore, Tara jumps in, mentally begging them to shut up for a moment, “You have the keys, Sam?”

Sam pulls them out of the pocket in her jeans.

Tara gives a small nod, looking a little over Sam, “Anika, tickets?”

“Yep, 5 of them,” she says, pulling out each ticket one by one with one hand and smoothing out Mindy’s hair with the other. When it was 5:30PM, they were all off, crawling into Sam’s car. Tara immediately sat in the passenger seat.

I’m not sacrificing my hair by sitting in the middle seat, she thinks as she looks back at Anika, who was basically separating the two twins that were probably yelling in her ear at this point.

“You guys will love them. Jess has always been one of the most talented people I know in music. I have no doubt her band will be the best on stage.”

When Anika had first mentioned when she won a giveaway for a concert. It was for a barricade, but it was stated that they were allowed to be in the front row, the tickets she won had granted her that. Tara wasn’t very interested. Music just wasn’t something she always listened to on a daily basis. But there were 5, and no way would she miss out.

So she listened to a song, played it on Spotify while walking to class.

The scene shifts to a local coffee shop in Woodsboro.

“Let me tell you, the bass was fucking amazing! Brilliant!” Tara yaps excitedly to the four people in front of her. She loved how well the drums, electric, lyrics, and bass sounded. The bass blessed her ears. She had immediately added it to her favorites.

“Bass, huh?” Anika smiles while drinking her coffee. “I think that’s one of the leads, Y/N. Jess always talks about how good she sounds, she usually comes up with all the riffs and lines.”

Y/N. It was unique, Tara made a note to remember it. Yet, she forgot about that conversation no less than 2 days after.

They all stepped out once they could see people lining up and buying the light up sticks that were controlled throughout the concert. Tara found it cool that the sticks had stars on them, in fact, the lights were one of the parts that made a concert a concert.

Mindy was yelling happily and doing a little dance once their tickets got scanned and they all ran to the front row.

Anika gave a cocky grin, “Maybe they’ll notice us because we’re in the front!”

It was thirty minutes until the background music came to a stop and the lights slowly started to dim. People were screaming, Tara’s heart was pounding against her chest. It was dead silent, whispers and occasional excited screams echoed.

“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Mindy whispers loudly, holding onto Anika as they look at the curtains.

They wait a moment, then two, and by the third one, drums begin to echo. ‘Tsst’ being echoed, before it follows with a loud 16th beat of drums. Then, the curtains open as Tara’s eyes widen.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

I'm trying to tell you something,

Something that I already said

The drums softly fill Tara’s ears, as she watches them play, she finally notices you. Perfect layered hair, messy in all the right ways. The bass girl. Something about the way the warmth of the light danced across your face in all the right ways captivated her. The way your deep red leather jacket hung over your shoulder, exposing your defined collar bones and toned arms while you pressed on strings.

Oh god, it felt as if a new story line with different love interests began to change for Tara. She could see the veins against your slim hands as they traveled across your guitar with ease. You mouthed the lyrics, enjoying yourself as you close your eyes and sway softly to the beat.

You like a pretty boy,

With a pretty voice

Who is trying to sell you something,

Something that you already have

The drums left Tara’s thoughts, now hearing you and the way that your bass adds on to the magic of it all. You’re just standing there, your bangs swiping across your features as you tuck it to your sides, smiling to yourself as you scan the crowd for a moment then look back down to your strings.

Maybe it was the way you looked like you were the right person for this part–to be on stage like you were meant for it. Or maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to the front row and landed on Tara’s wide ones. She could see the way you tilted your head and gave her a curious, wondering look, before giving her a small smile.

Oh my god, your smile was so cute. If she could describe it, it’s like the kind of smile that made her all giggly and was so contagious that she felt herself slowly smile.

The lights shine over your face, making everything about you glow. You pluck at the strings as you mouth the chorus to Tara. Her eyes searched all over your face. You don’t break eye contact with her.

But if you're too drunk to drive,

And the music is right

She might let you stay,

But just for the night

“And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along,” Tara mouths back in time with the song.

One of your eyebrows raise as the light shines onto you once again, god, she can almost hear your soft, breathy voice teasingly singing, “She might want a kiss before the end of this song..”

Anika screams, jumping up and down and hyping everyone up, waving her heart stick in beat with the song.

Because love can burn like a cigarette…

By the end of the concert, Tara was love struck. Very very love struck. It was late when her and the four of her friends walked out, the stars shining just a little brighter. She couldn’t get you out of her head. She might have grown gray hairs. How could you be more than any other celebrity crush?

She prayed to the universe that it would align you both together. Just like each star was in the night sky.

It’s bad, Loving Machine is playing and she can only think about you strumming your guitar.

Here she comes walking down the street,

Maddie Klein and her fabulous loving machine-

“Earth to Tara, hello?” Anika pauses the music, waving her hand into the girl’s face. It was almost like a record scratch moment as Tara blinked and looked around. “Oh, sorry, what?”

“Did you like the concert?” She asks, holding onto her star light up as the red light makes the glitter under her eyes sparkle. Anika was now in the middle, the car a little quieter since Chad was now in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah, I loved it.” Tara answers, half of her attention slipping away. She starts to see you from a camera, lighting cast against your tan skin, a TV effect on you, making your movements jerky.

The rest of the people are fading away, their voices, so loud and eager. Blah blah blah blah… Y/N.. Bassist. Love of her life.

Dreamy sigh.

Blah.. Blah.. “Yeah the bassist was hot.” Mindy’s voice suddenly being processed.

“What?” Tara immediately turns away from the window and looks at Mindy on the opposite side. Oh god, now she was going to have to fight for you? "No! Go find someone else to admire!” She grumbles, before immediately looking away.

The whole car shakes as they all laugh, playfully hitting Tara. “See? She was literally summoned, baby!” Anika giggles, talking to Mindy. “She wasn’t giving any shits when we were talking, and as soon as we talked about Senorita Y/N, she was like poof!”

Sam looks from the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised, “Already? One concert that lasted two hours and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger?”

Little fingers, those veiny hands that played so smoothly across the-

Chad turns around excitedly, like a child peeking at surprise presents, “She was literally captivated the whole damn concert! You should’ve seen her, a love sick puppy!”

Her sister cackles, the car moving as she keeps snorting, “Gotta admit though, she’s fine wine.”

“Sam!” Tara rubs her cheeks, she seriously hoped she wasn’t going to have to battle till death for you.

“Chill!” Sam coaxes, putting one hand up in the air, “I would totally go for her if you weren’t interested. Didn’t think you had a thing for ‘Sam accepted’ girls.”

The freckled cheek girl couldn’t help but sigh, the thought of you still lingering in her mind. Like a twinkling little Melody who’s lyrics couldn’t get out of her mind, even when she slept.

It had been a week. Tara says that she doesn’t think of you too often, but every single time she hears your band’s song, you end up in her mind for the whole day. Every time she steps into a coffee shop, she wonders if you’d be the person to give a free concert.

She wonders if you’re as sweet as your name sounds. She wonders if you’d hold doors for others or walk old ladies down the street. She wonders if your hand would fit hers. She wonders if you had even thought of her after the curtains closed.

She wonders if you smell good, if you’d smell like a musky, sweet, fruity vanilla-y scent with leather undertones. She sure hoped so.

To say the least, you’ve thought about the brunette just as much. You were having fun, strumming your guitar and feeling the beat radiate off your skin. Until you lay eyes on her. She had wide, brown doe eyes that made your knees buckle.

She was heaven-sent. You could even make out her tan freckled cheeks. And you were almost in denial when she was looking at you. It was always who was singing that people looked at, heck, you did too. But you were looking at her. And she was looking at you.

Plenty of people might have looked at you, but she was different. Like she was mesmerized by how you played. Like she was a moth to your flame.

In fact, you don’t know if anyone has ever looked at you with that much admiration.

The girl was so beautifully written, you wished you knew who she was. Instead, she was one out of 8 billion people out there, in a blink of an eye, a close of a curtain, she was off.

Tara looked at herself in the mirror, standing there like.. She didn’t even know, her serious eyes trailing down to what she was wearing, before turning to Anika slowly.

“Anika, I look like a hot dog.” She cries, looking at the way the costume swallowed her whole in the fitting room.

“That’s because you’re wearing a hot dog costume, Tar. But you look like a steaming hot hot dog!” Anika shakes her head, her head only visible since she was basically a whole mustard bottle.

Mindy waddles through the living room, a red ketchup bottle, a red dangling earring complimenting her poofy hair. “Has anyone seen my earring? I can’t find it! It was in my purse and I thought if it looked good, I’d totally buy this.”

Chad walks in the girl’s fitting room, slightly peeking as Sam walks out of her dressing room, a serious expression on their face, a cookie and milk costume.

Tara wants to laugh, but no way in hell was she going to wear this at a costume party, at least not at a serious one.

After actually taking it seriously, Tara decides on a pirate outfit, tying up her bandana.

She can almost hear the music blasting from her apartment, which is filled with laughter and chatting from her ‘family.’

Her eyes skim over her board, looking for her calendar that was usually meant for school, roaming around the small photos of you and a heart drawn over your face. She traces over it, before getting ready to leave, not even looking at the calendar.

Maybe the calendar was just an excuse.

After 5 songs and a half of your band’s music, the core five, including sweet Anika, open the door. A heavy scent of booze fills their senses, sweat, and a mix of perfumes all lingered. Not to mention, it was stuffy.

“Ugh, do they ever think about AC?” Sam grumbles, clearly not a party person as she gets whacked across the face from a toilet plumber that belonged to a person who was wearing a damn toilet costume. Mindy cackled, before tripping and almost crashing into them, luckily her girlfriend tugged her back.

They pushed against cowboy hats and random inflatable dinosaurs, across the dance floor, and to the drinks station.

Tara did not leave empty handed, her mouth gulping down the bubbly bitterness of alcohol.

She was buzzed, a few drinks here and she was flushed and giggling, so she made sure to think about her intake. As she parted from the other four to find a trash can, scanning the groups of people. Sometimes she found people she knew at school, cute boys, just people she’s seen.

Tara took a different route back to her friends, the music growing louder in her ears when she got near the dance floor, slivering through bodies. It was almost inevitable that her nose would scrunch, too strong of a perfume, or just sweat.. It made her nauseous.

Where was she going? She didn’t know, she stood on her tippy toes, her ruffled blouse crinkling as she searched for her friends.

Her face smacked right into someone, her hand automatically being placed on their chest. She opened her mouth, about to apologize and prepare for a scolding until her nose twitched. A fruity and sweet vanilla-y smell, and a light leathery contrast.. No?..

“Shoot,” you look down, your drink almost spilling on yourself as you look at the shorter person as you smooth out their hair. Did you ruin it? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Tara looks at her outfit, perfectly fine, no stains. Hearing your soft, breathy voice, it was unrecognizable to her at first.

“No, it’s totally fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Tara says, immediately looking up and seeing your big curious eyes.

Oh my god.

Your eyes search hers, like you’re scanning her. Like you feel you’ve seen her before. No, you know you have. But where? The trace of her nose, doe eyes, oh! Tara almost puts a hand over her mouth because she can almost see the swirling sense of recognition in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to ask about the concert, but you closed it. You don’t even know if she noticed you, maybe she was spacing out and was not acknowledging you during your concert a few weeks ago.

When it came to people, especially ones you crushed on, you were all stuttering words and pink cheeks.

The shorter girl sees the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and she registers what you’re wearing as her eyes trail down. And fuck, you looked angellic. Seriously.

A halo over your head and wings enveloping your sides. A black corset and ruffled skirt that showed a little of your legs, which were covered with tights. God, she thinks she can see the muscles as you cross one leg over the other.

It immediately makes you think she’s judging you. This costume was not your cup of tea, but your friends invited you to match with them, all angels in different colors.

The little pirate instead gives you a genuine look, “I like your costume,” she says, focusing a little too much on your toned arms and slightly flushed cheeks.

“I um.. Thank you..?” You bite your tongue, not knowing her name. In what chance do you get to meet the girl that made you think soulmates were real once again? At least a 1 in 300 chance.

“Tara,” she answers for you, pretending she didn’t already have your name embedded in the back of her head.

“I’m Y/N,” you bite a smile, she probably didn’t recognize you. You take a small sip from your drink, nose scrunching at the taste.

“You’re good at the bass,” she says nonchalantly, and you almost choke on your drink.

You didn’t think she’d recognize you, but now knowing that, you tilt your head. “Thank you. It comes from years of practice. What did you think?” You were genuinely curious.

“I think you’re just so good at the bass..” She mumbles, again, trailing off, before clearing her throat. “I mean, the bass always makes the songs so much better! You know? It’s like realizing how amazing something really is when you notice it-”

“I appreciate it,” you say, now aware of your surroundings because instead of where you two just bumped into each other, you were sitting at a table. You turn your head, looking at where you were, probably near the back.

Tara took the opportunity to notice your damn jawline, so perfect and sleek and defined-

“I like your freckles,” you admit, voice breathy. You turn back to look at her while batting your eyelashes, Tara’s eyes trained on how your hands.. Veiny hands lifted the cup to your lips.

The compliment almost catches her off guard, because with all the compliments she might get, freckles were usually not on the list. It used to make her insecure, but the way you said it and looked said otherwise. The alcohol was definitely taking a toll on you, because you were staring at her with no shame whatsoever.

Wide, searching eyes, it looked as if you were trying to memorize every detail.

The flutters in Tara’s stomach would’ve lasted longer. Except her eyes teared away from yours as she could see a very familiar ketchup and mustard costume and two other people behind them.

“Oh my god!” She groans quietly, covering her face as she scoots deeper into the booth.

She completely forgot that she slithered away from them, getting side tracked.

The brunette could die from embarrassment. You on the other hand.. Just prettily sitting there with a curious look on your face, the small warmth of the lamp casting a glow onto your face.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back a small giggle as you peek at the costumes that you can almost kind of guess who they are to Tara.

“SHE’S LOOKING THIS WAY!” Mindy hollers, tugging the mustard bottle next to her as Chad scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Tara’s literally hiding from us.”

“Hold it up!”

They’re screaming at each other. You can’t hear it from all the music and party chatter, but you can definitely figure it out from their expressions. For a moment, they turn away from you, so you can’t see them.

You slip on a leather jacket that was in your bag.

A hiding Tara is in the corner of the booth, you raise your eyebrows at her.

It doesn’t take long before the four people across the room slowly turn to you in synchronization.

“Um, I don’t-” You start, feeling a little awkward.

They hold up a paper, and you can’t even see what the words are saying. It’s at least the size of a penny. And from here, you can’t even make out the words.

“Dingus,” Mindy shouts to her twin, noticing the confused expression on your face as you try to understand what the paper is saying. She finally turns the paper around after holding it up. “It’s too small, that’s why!”

One of the four holds up a finger, signaling you to give them a moment as they adjust, before turning around.

‘Give her your numbar’ The sign says, you still don’t get it. Oh, number. You grab a tissue from the booth, and take out a sharpie from your pocket. Sharpies were always needed whenever you went out. To write down something on your hand, to sign autographs..

You slip the paper to Tara, giving her a small smile. She was definitely embarrassed. She didn’t even notice you slipping it to her, because after 5 seconds of you sliding it to her again, she still was clueless! The girl, instead, turned around to look out, immediately still seeing her stupid friends.

You sigh, putting the paper into your pocket. You feel a little bad for her.

Party lights fill the empty crevices of the room while you scoot out of the booth and stand up, pretending you didn’t notice the four people who were staring into the back of your skull.

“I think my friends are playing some Uno, you wanna come?” You offer, guiding her out of the booth as you look down at her.

“Sure.”

As the game went on, the last two players in the center still battling it out, Tara could see you were all fuzzy and flushed.

You were definitely drunk. Too drunk to drive.

Your knees were nudged against hers, a little closer than expected, cuddled into her, but she didn’t mind. God no she definitely didn’t.

She was talking a lot, and you were always open ears and one of the best listeners. And then you would ramble and Tara would listen. It made you both feel heard and understood.

After a moment, you remember something.

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? Uh, my phone is dead right now and I have to text a friend where I’m at.” You lie, your words slightly mushed together.

“Sure,” Tara says, unlocking her phone and handing it to you, a little drunk. You try to ignore the fact that the wallpaper is you from the concert she attended weeks ago.

You slip into the contacts, adding your contact and changing the name to; y/n, the bass guitarist ♡.

She didn’t even notice for the rest of the night.

As the sun slept at night, Tara stared at the ceiling, her vinyl spinning while a crackled “Say Yes to Heaven” reverberated around her bedroom.

She wished she could’ve stayed so much longer, but her friends had to leave, and there was no way she was taking an Uber or driving when tipsy.

Tara wanted to ask for your number, but because you never asked, maybe you didn’t because this didn’t mean as much as it did to her.

Curiosity was getting the best of her as she checked the messages on her phone, wondering how you typed like to your friends. But to her surprise, there were no messages to a number she didn’t recognize. The last number was just to Sam.

Her nose wrinkled, swiping to check the apps recently opened as she clicked the recent one.

Dimples creased against her cheeks as she saw your name with a little heart. She immediately clicked to message you. But to her surprise, you had already done so.

y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: whatcha doing? i hope ur not asleep yet>:(

tara ☆🧭: thankfully not yet, i’m in bed. u know, i was going to be a little sad than i’d like to admit if i didn’t get your number.

y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: i did hand you a paper, but you were hiding in the corner of the booth and i thought it would be easier this way

It took her a moment to think of what to say, before she thought of something she never thought she’d do late at night.

tara ☆🧭: do u wanna call? maybe just talk to each other till one of us falls asleep.

You usually weren't the person to connect over facetimes and calls, sometimes you didn't know what to say in the moment. You don't know..

She doesn’t get a response for a minute, before her phone vibrates in her hand and she swipes to answer.

Your hair was let down loose, in an oversized tee that even then she could still see your collarbones. You give a sleepy smile.

“Tara,” you say softly, and something in Tara thumps because you look so happy to see her. She grins back, shifting so she could see you better.

“I’ve never really done one of these,” your quiet voice says, a warmer tone casting over your face. “Do you want to say hi to Cinnamon? He’s my puppy.” You say, pushing your hair back.

The brunette nods, “Puppies are so cute, my sister isn’t very fond though. They sometimes make her sneeze.”

“Oh, allergies you could get a poodle breed or something, Cinnamon doesn’t shed much,” you agree, your camera slightly shaking as she can slightly hear you call your dog's name in a cute voice. “Come here, boy!”

Seconds later, you bring out your puppy, which lolls outs his tongue as you press a kiss to his head. Tara can see your red nails as you mess up his hair.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tara says, looking at you through the screen with pure curiosity.

“I-” You pause, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “I think you should tell me about yourself first. It’s late and I want to listen to you. As much as I’d try to stay up, I’d fall asleep if you went second.” You murmur, cuddling with Cinnamon.

What you said made Tara feel something she doesn’t feel often. Appreciated? Well, she always wants to listen to others when calling, then she might go second, but when you brought up her going first? That made her feel fireworks.

“Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“What’s your favorite memory and why?”

As an hour, then two passes, you begin to tell Tara about yourself. She’s never felt so heard before. Both your lamps are off, now the only light from each others screens.

She can tell you’re beginning to doze off. The way you’re pausing and blinking sleepily before murmuring a little too softly.

“What is something that you hate?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your light breaths heard on the other end as you shift slightly and prop up your phone.

“Peppercorns..” You yawn, keeping your eyes half open. “They’re fine for seasoning, but when I bite into them, god.. It tastes so bad..”

You pause again, eyes heavy as you blink. “When you feel like you have to change for other people to like you. When you have to be someone you’re not because of people that don’t make you feel like you can be yourself.”

Tara nods, rubbing her eyes as she admires your defined features, even from the darkness. She could see the softness too. If she looked enough.

“I think those people make me feel the worst. Not wanting to be the one laughed at so you change to the one that’s laughing. Or when people talk down on the things you love. It hurts. And that’s something that I hope no one goes through.”

Wow, something about that makes her get to know the kind of person you are by a landslide.

“That’s a good response. What about your favorite fruit?”

“Mmm.. Watermelon. The sweet ones.. It’s so refreshing and…” You trail off, your eyes closing as your breathing evens out. Your lips were slightly parted, your puppy making a small whimper as he snuggles into you.

It’s silent, except for the faint white noise from Tara’s ceiling fan. You looked like a dream. Everything you talked about made Tara see nothing but good. And knowing that makes her feel like she should start seeing things the way you do.

A car passes by, the softest lyrics playing, it lulls Tara to bed.

We were listening to lovers rock

In her bedroom

You both fall asleep on call, maybe people were meant for each other.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega imagines #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #cairo sweet x y/n

692 notes · View notes

rayhalloffame · 19 days ago

Text

A little self indulgent but working in a career where you also have to be very precise with your hands. Carmen is down a chef and you’ve cooked with him enough to kind of have an idea of how his kitchen flows and what his techniques are so you offer to stand in.

Regardless, you struggle to keep up with the flurry of movements and shouting during dinner service. Someone is saying “behind” or “corner” or “yes, chef”, pans are sizzling, oven doors are slamming. Knives are chopping. Specifically, your knife into a steak, cooked to perfection by Tina. And then a loud bang startles you, causing you to slice into your finger. It stuns you more than anything else, knife dropping from your hand and onto the work station. Before you have a chance to move your hand blood trickles from your finger onto the wagyu. You’re frozen in place.

Carmen is shouting for wagyu to table 7, yesterday. Your lack of response is what causes his head to pop up from his position at expo, finding your ashen face staring at your hand. “Chef,” he says, waits a beat, then prompts you again to no avail. He dusts his hands on the towel hanging from his apron while he approaches you. You’re dazed until his hands come up to cradle your face, tapping one hand gently on your cheek and calling your name. It brings your attention back to present. Your eyes flick between his concerned ones and the steak sitting dead in front of you. “You alright?”

Your lip wobbles immediately. “I – the steak, uh,” you’re trying with a shaky breath. It’s not even the pain in your finger or the embarrassment. You just put the whole team behind by bleeding on a dish. Carmen’s brow creases. He wraps a hand around your wrist to inspect the wound that has now begun to pool blood at the site. “I ruined the steak, chef. I’m sorry.” Your eyes get glassier by the second.

Carmen nods curtly. “T, take over,” he asks, making brief eye contact with the small chef. Tina agrees, concerned but doesn’t ask questions. Carm returns his attention to you, brings his voice down an octave. “C’mon,” he says, applies some force on your wrist to nudge you backwards. “Step out.” The panicked, apologetic look you give him makes him more insistent, wanting to get you away from the chaos and prying eyes. He’s appreciative for Sydney when she commands, “Chefs, listen to the sound of my voice.”

He guides you quickly with a hand to the small of your back and the other still holding your wrist afloat. A tear is sliding down your cheek by the time Carmen has your finger under running water. He glances at you from under his lashes. “Hurts?” You shake your head and wipe angrily at your cheek. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmurs, softness so different from his harsh control of the kitchen moments before. It makes you feel worse.

“I got it,” you say gruffly around the frog in your throat, pulling your hand from his grip, “get back out there.” Carmen stands with his hands on his hips, watching you inspect your cleaned finger before wrapping a paper towel around it tightly. You turn off the faucet and brush past him to find bandages in the office and he follows.

Except when you do step into the office you stop moving. You drop your head and pull long shaky breaths into your lungs, hands clenching and unclenching. Carmen spins you by your shoulders and tugs you into him, triggering a sob to fall from your lips. He rubs a hand down the back your head comfortingly. “I don’t—,” he starts, “Bear, why’re you so upset?”

You start babbling, “I – I ruined the dish, Carm.” You get your works out between sniffles and hiccups, the collar of his chef’s whites wet with your efforts. “We were already behind an – and I was slow, and I bled on it and T – ina worked so hard on it.” You can feel Carmen’s nods against the side of your face.

“Its a kitchen, baby,” he says. “People get injured all the time. We refire and keep going.”

“I wanted to help and I let you down,” you sniffle. You calm yourself after a few moments. Realizing that you’re holding him up even more, you pull yourself from his embrace. “Go, go,” you shoo him, “I got this, I’m okay.”

Carmen inspects your finger when you unwrap it and decides it’s not dire, that you can care for it on your own if that’s what you want. He cradles your jaw, rubs his thumb across your cheek. You pull one side of your mouth up in a sad smile. “Could never let me down. I appreciate you stepping in for me and, uh, it’s nice. Y’know, seeing you in my space.” He nods, tilts his head to the side. “You’re okay.” Carmy reels you in to kiss the top of your head then lets you go. “Your station is still yours if – uh, if you want to come back.” You smile lightly at him in acknowledgement before he drops his hand and retreats. You do end up returning once you’re bandaged and composed, spurred on by the assuring expression Carmen gifts you each time his eyes linger on you.

#the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #I’m a people pleaser yes I’m projecting #I also work in medicine so precise with my hands… also projecting

207 notes · View notes

i2ycat · 5 months ago

Text

two wrongs don’t make one right

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis mistakes always happen, whether you mean to make them or not. but it’s not a question of ‘do you like heeseung?’ anymore, it’s more so: ‘why do you like heeseung?’. or in which, two wrongs just don’t make one right genre college!au, slight fluff, angst, established relationship word count 3k+ warnings cursing, crying, toxic relationship between heeseung and reader, implications of a professor x student relationship, heeseung is implied to have possibly cheated, reader cheats w sunghoon, everyone is of age, bitchy & manipulative characters, reader is insecure, small mention of smoking weed, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking it’s been 2 months since i last posted anything oh my…. erm! here’s a little fic before i disappear again lol <//3 i don’t condone anything that happens in this fic or any of their decisions!!!! main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

The weekend had rolled by faster than you could blink. One second, you’re rotting away in your room and the next, you’re hopping on one foot in front of your mirror, hastily getting ready for the day because you’re running 30 minutes late to your 10am coding class. You’re usually the type to wake up earlier than your alarm, but you were staying up way later than you usually would’ve the night before— staying up late to talk to your boyfriend of 7 months, Lee Heeseung.

Known to be the academy’s most influential guy, Lee Heeseung was, and still is, quite the character. Simply calling him influential would be a grave understatement though, because he descended from a family of powerful politicians and businessmen, even having the biggest corporation in all of South Korea— Lee Tech— as part of his familial pedigree.

It’s no secret that he has the entire world at his fingertips, and at any given moment, he could burn it if he wanted to.

But like how everything else in this world is unfair, Lee Heeseung wasn’t just disgustingly rich, he also inherited his mother’s celebrity looks— evident in his sharp features and overly charming personality. He has girls constantly eyeing him left and right, up and down, even when you’re around.

You went into this relationship knowing full well the certain costs it had to your own happiness and well-being. In the 7 months you’ve been seeing each other, you’ve never felt so insecure in your entire life. And despite his constant reassurances, you know that he couldn’t even begin to imagine half of the battlefield you were facing.

No matter how much you try to deny it, you were subconsciously fighting for his attention against people who were born to be at the same status as he is— in terms of wealth, power, and looks. You always hated being born into a grassroots-level family, but you knew that being salty about your birth-given circumstances would change absolutely nothing. So you worked hard as fuck to be able to get into such a prestigious university. You threw the entirety of your youth away to be able to be the first in your family to go to college, and here you are, barely hanging onto your scholarship because of some boy you met at a party almost half a year earlier.

They’re only admirers, he said. It was just you and him, he said. You just needed to trust him, he said, but that’s something easier said than done, especially for you.

“Running late again?” The security guard monotonously inquires. He’s seen this exact scene about a thousand times and more with other students before you, so he’s chopping the late slip and handing it back to you like clockwork, but this time with a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he had a good day but not good enough to warrant the toiling of doing such a challenging task.

Not that it mattered to you anyways.

You ducked your head in an informal ‘thank you’ before hurriedly leaving the stale office and into the hallways.

The hallways always seemed unending whenever you were running late, the rows of windows you ran past would multiply tenfold and the clock’s hands would run faster than it usually would— it felt as if time was warping everything within its reach.

Finally, the running reached its stop. You bent on your knees to catch your breath, the late slip crumpling in between your fingers in the process.

One.

Two.

You counted.

There was no reason to panic. Just walk in, hand the slip and sit your ass down. The visual in your head was clear and it somewhat helped to calm down your nerves. So with one last deep breath, you turn the brass handle and walk in.

You’re so damn dramatic.

The doors creaking reverberates in the small auditorium, easily catching everyone’s attention. You gulp down the lump in your throat as you watch your professor pass you a look of disapproval. It made your heart drop, because you were his best student and you hate disappointing people who expect great things from you. Your let your gaze angle towards the carpeted floors, making your way to the seat closest to the door.

When you feel as if you’ve disappeared into your seat, it was as if you could breathe again. You were finally away from the spotlight and people’s unnervingly curious eyes ceased trailing your every move. You should really start sleeping earlier or you’d have to get used to this.

“Hey,” Erin, your seatmate, whispers. Her voice tried to be as discreet as it could in a whisper… it didn’t really work. The professor gave her a stern stare as a form of warning, though you could tell it had an entirely different undertone, even from a mile away. It left a bad taste in your mouth, having to bear witness to such unprofessional exchanges of looks in an academic setting of all places. Erin, who bites her lip, scribbles whatever she was going to say to you on a torn piece of paper.

“Wanna know a secret?” It read with two boxes just right underneath it: yes or no. You look at her with a dumbfounded look plastered all over your face. You knew she was childish to a certain extent, but was she really that childish? Nevertheless, you tick the box on the left and send it back to her.

Cause you know, curiosity killed the cat.

You should’ve seen the conniving smirk plastered on her lips but you were too focused on your thoughts to notice anything else around you. She scribbles once more then folds it, dropping it into your hands with the hastily written warning facing you: “read it when you get home. preferably alone lol ;)”.

Then, class is dismissed.

You watch her get up from her seat and blend in with everybody else rushing out of the room, not missing the heavy glance she passes at the professor. You didn’t even want to stay any longer to see what happened next, so you started haphazardly shoving things into your bag instead, remembering to pocket the small note into the depths of your jacket.

When you leave the room, Lee Heeseung is already standing there, in all his lazy-fitted glory— messy bed hair hiding under a hood, donning the black hoodie you both bought as a couple’s set for valentines last week and the black sweatpants you bought for him to match.

“Hello, beautiful.” He coos, engulfing you in a tight one-armed hug. It gave you the opportunity to take in his woody yet elegant-smelling perfume, the same Jo Malone one he wore everyday.

Your heart swelled in its place, appreciating how, without fail, Heeseung would wait for you outside your classes whenever he could, even if they ended really late— late enough that he should be at home resting, but instead, he would spend that time waiting for you like the good boyfriend he is.

“Hey,” you smile into his chest. “Ugh, I woke up late again today thanks to a certain someone.”

“Wonder who that is? Maybe I should give them a word or two about keeping my princess up so late.” He pulls you from his chest to cup your face, coaxing you to fall deeper with that sweet smile of his. It never fails to make you feel like you’re the only girl in his world, like he’s got your back no matter what.

It was dangerous for such a smile to have the ability to make you forget about all your problems, even ones pertaining to him.

“You’re such a dork,” you roll your eyes at him as you push him away.

“At least I’m your dork, so naturally… it cancels out.” A boyish grin spreads across his face so innocently that you can’t help but press a kiss on his nose, immediately prompting him to blush a crimson red at your sudden display of affection. “What was that for?”

“You looked cute,” you shrug.

At this, Heeseung turns an impossibly darker shade of red. “You can’t just say things like that so casually and expect me to be okay.” The way he attempts to cover the blush in his face behind his hands makes you laugh, completely and utterly endeared by him.

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll give you a heads up, yeah?”

“You’re so mean.” He pouts.

When you got yourself entangled with the Lee Heeseung all those months ago, you didn’t think that he would have such a boyish and cute side to him. His public persona had always been this untouchable, charismatic guy who could get anything he wanted with a snap of his finger, so you could imagine the whiplash you experienced when the first time you ever kissed him, he blushed so deeply you thought he was drunk.

It made you feel special, being the only one to have ever brought out this side of him, like you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever bring yourself to hate me.”

“That… is very true, I’m afraid.” Heeseung sighs, catching your hand in his. “I’m kinda hungry, right now. Sushi?”

“Sure.”

—

Over the course of your entire life, there’ve only been a handful of times where you’ve been betrayed by people you trusted: first when you were twelve, being wrongly accused of having cheated on a test by your then best friend; second when you were the only one to have been thrown under the bus by people you thought were your close group of friends for smoking weed in your highschool’s bathroom cubicle; and third when you found out that Heeseung had been with Erin during the one-week break in your relationship.

The note passed to you by Erin from earlier in the month stays ripped into pieces in the palm of your hand. You’d forgotten all about it until a few hours ago, and you wished it had stayed that way. But you know by now that things never go your way.

You and Heeseung were on break for about a week, citing that you were not in the mental headspace to be dealing with a relationship at that moment in time because of your slipping grades, and he understandably obliged, even kissing your forehead goodbye as you left his apartment.

Erin’s written confession, if you could even call it that, echoes in your mind like a blaring alarm.

from girlie to girlie, your boyfriend came onto me while you guys were on your little break. must say, your boyfriend is talented at making people cry ;).

All you needed was a week to heal and sort your shit out before you went back into his arms, and he couldn’t even wait that long?

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to scream your aching heart away, to be left with nothing more than a void. At least then, you would no longer feel the hurt and betrayal Heeseung inflicted upon you with his actions, and the months of torment you’d endured just to seem worthy to stay by his side.

Did he even ever truly love you like he said he did?

The more you dwell on these thoughts, the more you could feel yourself physically slipping into a state of mental numbness as you stayed motionless on your spot on the carpeted floor.

It wouldn’t be until a few more hours later that Heeseung would enter your dorm, tired as ever from his basketball practice. It was routine for him to crash at your dorm on Tuesdays and Fridays—whenever he had basketball practices— because it was more convenient for him to get to his 9am class the next day from your in-campus dorm, compared to his condo that was 20 minutes away. Adding that you gave him the energy he needed for the days ahead, but now you’re contemplating whether that part was even true or not.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you from the entrance. “I’ve got to tell you about what happened to Jay at practice today-” he cuts himself short as he spots your leaning figure, head tucked into your knees, surrounded by torn pieces of paper.

“Y/n?” He quickly runs to your side.

“Seungie,” you meekly whisper as you lift your head, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes finally coming into clear view.

“Did something happen? What happened?” His hands make quick work to caress your face, tucking stray pieces of hair behind your ears and wiping tears away with his thumb.

Even after knowing what he had allegedly done behind your back, you couldn’t help but feel your heart pounding. This was the sweet, caring Heeseung you knew and loved. And so the thought that Erin could’ve been lying to you, flitters across your mind and nestles itself there.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” Your voice sounds hoarse and quiet, yet the silent pleading rings deafeningly in your ears. You felt so pathetic crying in your living room about a boy who might’ve technically cheated on you, then finding yourself putty in his hands the moment he shows you the version of truth you’re familiar with.

Why are making up excuses for his behaviour?

Gosh, your roommate would kill you if she knew how much of a loser you’ve become in Heeseung’s presence.

“Of course not, baby,” he pulls you into an embrace. “There’s nothing I could ever lie to you about.” Did this ease your trust issues in any way? No. But it did assure you that Erin was still nothing but a serial liar, wanting nothing more than to see other people’s relationships fall apart for her own selfish entertainment… you think.

You hum into Heeseung’s tweed pullover.

It was always like this. You don’t know how many times you’ve gone through the same thing, and you don’t know how many more times you can go through without fully losing your sanity. But you can’t seem to find it in yourself to pull away, no matter how exhausted your heart and soul becomes.

—

“Can’t believe you stayed with him, even after knowing what he did behind your back.” Erin sneers from beside you, clearly amused by your course of actions these past few weeks.

“Whatever I do is none of your business,” you bite back through your teeth. You’ve never liked Erin, but even more so after the stunt she did that almost cost you your entire relationship with Heeseung. You should’ve known that she never had good intentions to begin with, constantly lying through her teeth. “I know you lied about it.”

She raises an eyebrow at this, “You think I’m lying? Oh baby, you’re really so fucking gullible.” Erin could practically see the cogs turning in your brain, if the furrowing of your brows were anything to go by. “I’m saying that Heeseung has you completely under his thumb, and you’re dumb enough to believe anything and everything he says,” she plays with her pen, swirling it around her finger as she eyes you. “It’s whatever though, Heeseung likes good girls anyways.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think we both know very well.” She smirks, tapping the pen on her temple once then twice, before shifting in her seat back towards the front of the lecture hall.

Just what was her fucking deal?

It leaves you with more questions than answers, as you watch her diligently jot down notes from beside you. After today, you were for sure going to switch seats because there was just no fucking way you could survive the rest of the year this way.

—

You don’t know how you ended up here. The first minute you were being dumped by Heeseung, and the next you’re waking up with a raging hangover in his best friend's bed.

Heeseung technically didn’t dump you, telling you that he wanted a break the same you did all those months before. And you technically didn't end up in his best friend’s bed by complete choice. You were drunk out of your mind at a party last night, one that your roommate had dragged you to after seeing you in your depressed state for the past week. But no matter the excuse you try to conjure, it still doesn’t excuse the fact that you cheated on your boyfriend.

Your heart beats sporadically at the sight of Sunghoon’s bare back facing you, not because you’re flustered but because you’re instantly hit with the gravity of your own drunken choices.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

With heavy feet, you stumble out of his bed and start navigating through the mess of discarded clothes, and soon after, Sunghoon eventually stirs awake from the ruckus you were unintentionally causing in his shared dorm room. “Y/n?” He groggily calls out to you.

Fuck.

It didn’t take Sunghoon very long to figure out why the fuck you were in his room half-naked, piecing together the clues that lay around the expanse of his dorm. He clearly didn’t need to be a genius like Einstein to figure out that you and him had a drunken one-night stand. You—Heeseung’s girlfriend—and him—Heeseung’s best friend—had spent the night together. Intimately.

Right around the three-second mark, the same level of anxiety sank into his stomach.

Fuck, indeed.

“I made a mistake.” Your voice trembled, tears starting to blur your vision as hot panic courses through you.

“Hey, we were both drunk,” Sunghoon says, sitting up at the sight of you still half-dressed and starting to break down at the foot of his bed. “Heeseung doesn’t have to know about this. We both made a mistake, and don’t blame yourself because you weren’t the only one, okay?”

“But, fuck, it doesn’t change the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend. What the fuck was I thinking?” Your fingers fly to tousle with your hair, pulling at the roots to try and ease the pounding in your head.

You weren’t any better than all the people you were disgusted by, seeing as you’ve stopped as low. Memories from last night flash through your mind, as if to haunt you; the party, the flashing lights, the drinks, the kissing, the skin against skin. You felt so fucking sick to your stomach.

“We didn’t mean to sleep with each other. We were just drunk.” Sunghoon reasons, but no amount of gaslighting could change what’s already been done.

You were either going to live with this aching thorn by your side forever, or own up to your mistakes like a normal human being with a moral compass. With how deep you’ve fallen for Heeseung, you couldn’t bear losing him, yet both options entailed losing him one way or another.

It’s best not knowing what could potentially hurt, right?

Right.

284 notes · View notes

polly-pocket13 · 9 months ago

Text

ramen

katsuki bakugou x reader

It was 1 am in the morning, when you were standing in a pajama and with your headphones on in the kitchen. Currently, you were cutting spring onions for your ramen while you were singing along to a song.

All because you previously overslept dinner with your classmates. You were so tired from your workout after school that you felt asleep at 7 pm and woke up six hours later, pretty hungry. That's why you're in the kitchen at one in the morning making ramen.

The next thing you did was cut your finger because you weren't paying attention when you chopped the ingredients.

“Ah, shit.” you cursed quietly.

“It surprises me that this took so long.” you quietly heard Bakugous voice behind you.

You turned around and looked confused at Bakugou who was standing at the door. You put down your headphones and asked him, “What do you mean, and why are you awake at 2 am?”

“Firstly, I could ask you the same question, so why are awake at 2 am, dancing, singing in the kitchen and making ramen? Secondly, the way you're cutting things is terrifying, so it's a surprise that you cut your finger now and not earlier. You can be happy that you just cut your finger and nothing else happened.” he told you.

“Tzz, Dickhead. I am hungry, that's the reason, I am making ramens. And my cutting isn't terrifying.” you said and held your finger under running cold water.

You blushed.

How long he has been watching you?

“Show me your finger.” he said.

He was now standing behind you.

“It isn't that bad.” you said, turned around to him and showed your best friend your finger.

He covered your cut with a band-aid. You had goose bumps everywhere because he was so close.

You had a crush on your best friend Bakugou since the middle school, but you know he doesn't feel the same way for you.

This is the reason why you wouldn't ever reveal your feelings to him.

“Thank you.” you said and walked to the countertop, and slowly started to cut the ingredients for your ramen again.

“Like I said, terrifying.” he told you again and got behind you. “Let me help you.” he said and laid his hand on yours and helped you to cut your ingredients.

To be honest, only he was cutting the ingredients, and you just tried to breathe and also held the knife as he was so fucking close to you.

You could feel his breath on your neck.

“See, not that hard.” he told you as he finished cutting all the ingredients.

You said, “I could do it myself.”

“Sure, you could. But maybe you would have lost a finger.” he said and smirked.

You turned around so that you could look him in the eyes. His face was really close to yours. “Shut up, Kacchan. Sometimes, you are a Jerk.” you mumbled.

“Being a Jerk is a full-time job.” he only said and moved even closer to you.

What the fuck is he doing.

“You didn't tell me why you are awake at 1 am.” you said and tried to win some space, what didn't work out. “Couldn't sleep, there was someone on my mind.” he answered and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Who?” you asked.

“Sometimes you are really dumb, nerd.” he said and closed the space between your lips.

Maybe it was fate that you overslept the dinner.

a/n: I'm not sure if I really like it, maybe I'll delete it later on.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki x reader

667 notes · View notes

makkir0ll · 9 months ago

Note

hey hey hey! I was really inspired with the prompts for your event but no pressure, just take the ones that inspire you!

4 + futakuchi

7 + shirabu

15 + daichi

14 + tsukishima

22 + akaashi

24 + oikawa

33 + suna

46 + kuroo

48 + kita

51 + atsumu!

again congrats for the 200 followers!!

love all these prompts and it was hard to pick just one, hope you like it!

200 milestone event!

atsumu + 51 ("i could lift you up off the floor while kissing you"/ "excu- what are you doing?! put me down!")

warnings: slightly suggestive towards the end.

away games were the hardest for atsumu. the flights were long and tiring, the food wasn't the best, the hotel room mattress weren't as good as the one at his house. but most of all, he had to be away from you.

call it cheesy or whatever but atsumu hated being away from you, especially now that the two of you had just got married it was even worse. he hated that the food he ate wasn't cooked by you, the mattress didn't have your body laying next to his. but, it did make coming home so much sweeter.

when he walked through the door, yelling "honey! i'm home" a joke the two of you started to do after seeing it on a movie. he kicks off his shoes when he see's you run to him, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug as you pepper kisses down his neck and he takes in a deep breath, smelling the floral shampoo on your hair.

while he began to unwind form the long trip by taking a shower and using the same floral shampoo that you used on yourself, you started to make him a good dinner because after every away game he always complained how the food never tasted as good as yours.

as you're chopping up some vegetables you feel his arms wrap around your waist, water droplets from his damp hair falling down to your neck as he whispers how much he misses you in your ear.

" 'tsumu, i'm cooking right now please get off." you joke, trying to kick your husband away but he seems to hold onto you tighter, pulling you closer to his chest and with an exasperated sigh you drop the knife and turn off the stove so you can turn around to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and all attempts to act annoyed fly out the door when you see his lovesick amber eyes looking down at you.

"i missed you," he whispers, leaning down to press a small peck to your lips, "so much." he presses another. this time you hold him there, kissing him slowly taking your time to explore each other as if it's your first time. the position is uncomfortable though, you standing on your tippy toes, the only balance you have being holding onto his neck which is craned down somewhat awkwardly but he doesn't mind as long as his lips are on yours.

in the middle of the kiss you begin to lose your balance, toes aching from holding their position for so long and you stumble into him, leading to him breaking the kiss with a soft chuckle.

"don't laugh." you say smacking his chest.

"what, i ain't laughing love." he's biting his lip to contain himself. "can't help if yer falling for me, hm?" he teases.

"you're cheesy." you retort, cheeks turning bright red at your husband's stupid comment. even after years of the two of you being together he still manages to get reactions out of you.

"ya love it though," he whispers, leaning in for another kiss but you lose your balance, yet again. but he holds onto you, stabilizing you. but a light bulb goes off in his head.

pulling away from the kiss, a whine leaving your throat as you try and chase his lips he says with pride, "i could lift ya up off the floor while kissin' ya."

your eyebrowns quirk up, the random fact that he stated confusing you. "excu- hey!" your thoughts get cut off when you feel his arms wrap around under your butt to lift you up and it takes you by surprise. "what are you doing?! 'tsumu put me down!" you yell through fits of laughter as he picked you up with ease. it wasn't like atsumu never picked you up but normally you would atleast jump for him, so him picking you up with pure strength was something that (quite frankly) kind of made your husband ten times hotter to you.

with your legs dangling above the floor, swinging back and forth as he spun you around, causing more fits of laughter that erupted from your throat, making his heart swell. he slowly comes to a stop as your faces are mere centimeters away from each other, and being at eye level you take note of how his brown irises were almost barely visible with how dilated his pupils were as he looked at your flushed cheeks, messy hair, and bitten lips that were turning a bit redder. he leans in to kiss you yet again, this time it's deeper. the hands that were on your ass gave it a tight squeeze which elicits a moan from your mouth, allowing his tongue to go in to explore your mouth as he had done countless times before. without stopping his actions he begins to move, to what you assume is the direction of your bedroom, not for a second even thinking about putting you down. once he enters the space he kicks the door shut behind him with ease.

dinner could wait a bit, he wanted to get a head start on dessert first.

334 notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 2 years ago

Note

hi ml! was wondering if i could req a ron x popular!shy!reader? like his friends tease him because they don’t know how he landed her and they think she’s the more outspoken and dominant one but in reality he is and makes her flustered 24/7:) maybe smut if you want but no pressure! thank you <33

So apparently I'm in my Ron era Warnings: Hinting to bi reader, suggestive This isn’t as good as i wanted it to be but enjoy!

You turn to your close friend Hannah when Professor Snape gives the go ahead to start your potions, giving her a look and you both look down into your textbooks to hide your wide grins and bubbling giggles.

"Why hasn't he yelled at us once today though?" Hannah whispers, heading to the ingredient cabinets with you on her heels. "Probably got some head or something." You respond with a shrug only to have Hannah scoff and mutter a quiet "Right" which causes you both to erupt with laughter at the back of the classroom.

"Ladies! Is it necessary for me to tell you to shut it every. Single. Class." Snape roars from the front, his face turning red when you only break down even more at the irony, both of you turning to lean on something.

"That's enough! Ten points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!" Your hand flew over your mouth in a desperate attempt to keep quiet, your laughter only ceasing when a harsh kick on the back of your leg is delivered by Hermione.

"Oh no please keep it up, you'll only make it easier for Slytherin to win the house cup this year." Pansy states, winking at you as she walks back to her table. Hannah shuffles closer to you, whispering "I bet she has the fattest crush on you. And don't forget her little friends over there."

You look back at Hannah, jokingly flicking your hair over your shoulder. "After that kiss in third year? Of course she has a crush on me." You both sit down at your table, and you start sorting out the ingredients as Hannah flicks through her textbook to find the right page. "Hey Lav? What page is the potion on?" You ask the girl facing you, who stutters as she tells you the number.

Thanking her, you manage to catch the eye of your boyfriend across the room, noticing his other friends glancing at you and you tilt your head, smiling softly at him. He looks down so you avert your gaze, instead starting to chop up some fluxweed seeds.

On the other side of the classroom, Seamus Finnigan mimics your movements rather clumsily as he wanders off into a conversation with the other boys on the table "No you don't understand, every guy in the school wants her and every girl wants to be her. So how did you manage to get her? You don't know how to talk to pretty girls."

"He was probably seduced." Chimes in Dean nonchalantly. "She charmed him hard enough that he got in bed and let her ride him until sun down. She was satisfied with what she saw and decided to keep him around." They all look up, starting to chuckle at Ron's reaction, and add onto the teasing until Neville looks like he's about to explode.

Ron feels his cheeks go ablaze and he looks up, watching you smile at something Hannah said. As much as he wanted to flaunt the fact that he was the one to approach you, he knew that your popularity painted you as a maneater. No one would believe him. Even as he walks up to you at the end of class, offering you his hand, he feels the boys’ eyes on you both, ignoring the rosy colour that appears on your cheeks. You giggle, taking Ron’s hand, and together you walk down to the Great Hall for lunch.

You sit next to Ron with his friends listening to Harry, who brings up the topic of romance once more, complaining about his failed attempts to ask Cho out. He looks at you and asks “How do I just ask her? I’ve backed out every single time.” You shrug, pointing at your boyfriend “Ask Ron, he was perfectly fine making the first move on me.”

Your response brings an unusual silence within the friend group. “Ron? Ron made the first move?” Hermione finally says, which brings alive a lot of questions from the surrounding teenagers.

“Wait I don’t understand… You guys didn’t think I was the one who came onto him did you??” You interrupt, feeling your face start to heat up again. “Yes we did!” States Seamus “This whole time you’ve been the popular girl who for some reason went for this thick in the head ginger! But he’s the one who charmed you… I see now.”

Ron scoffs and shakes his head, pushing his drink away from him and he stands up, offering you his hand once more. You take it, following him, and shrug at Hermione who gives you a questioning look.

“I’m sorry about them, but i think i have something that can distract you from their questions.” You hum, cocking one head to the side. “And what would that- Oh!” You squeal as Ron pulls you into an abandoned broom closet, firmly pressing his lips to yours, as you shyly place your hands on his chest, pushing him away from you. “You couldn’t wait could you?” You question him, gently pulling him back in, but it’s only when he presses himself against you that you understand why.

#ron wealsey x y/n #ron wealsey #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley smut #ron weasley #harry potter oneshot #harry potter angst #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter x reader #golden trio era #golden trio #hogwarts #shy!reader #rainydayathogwarts

2K notes · View notes

roguishcat · 6 months ago

Text

Augustarion Day 3 – Apron (MNDI) 18+

Warnings: Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually. Inappropriate use of Mage Hand, Oral Sex (Male receiving), PiV.

Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion

A/N: I tried to proofread.

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

You were busy preparing dinner when you could have sworn you felt a hand brush your side, then gently cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Whirling around, you saw that there was nobody there. In fact, everyone seemed to be doing something. Shadowheart and Wyll were speaking in low voices, Karlach was playing fetch with delighted Scratch, Gale was resting, and Astarion was reading a book in front of his tent. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

You went back to preparing the meal. Gale, for once, asked to be relieved of cooking duty, having taken several particularly nasty blows during the surprise attack. So he passed on the ladle to the only person in the group that could apparently be trusted with their meal. You did not know what made him believe that you were any better in the kitchen than, say, Shadowheart or Wyll. But, having taken a look at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, decided not to argue. You weren’t great at cooking, but you could manage a simple stew. Especially as Gale took care to write out step-by-step instructions for you to follow.

Then you felt it again. Phantom fingers brushed the back of your knee, making you yelp in surprise and almost drop what you were holding. This time you were certain that it wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks. Something or someone touched you and you were determined to find out who it was.

Eyes narrowing, you took another look at your companions. Astarion, whose idea of fun was pestering you when you were busy with something else, was your main suspect. Especially seeing as how he, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be really, really into his book. The book that you were sure you saw him read before.

With a huff, you turned back to the task at hand. If Astarion wanted something from you, he would probably tell you soon enough.

Minutes later, you heard him snap the tome closed as your vampire finally decided to come to you. You were chopping up vegetables for stew when Astarion approached you.

“Hello my sweet. Busy?” he all but purred, arms encircling your waist as he laid his chin on your shoulder.

“Not too busy to talk to you. How can I help?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything in particular. It’s just you know how much I enjoy seeing you handling a blade. And I am in a mood for a lovely chat with your lovely self.”

“Sounds… nice?”

“I can be very nice. In fact, I was nice enough to notice how tense you have been for the past several days. Travelling rough taking a toll on you, hm?”

“I suppose,” you frowned, not sure where exactly Astarion was going with this line of questioning. You felt as if he was toying with you, which he often was, leading you to say whatever it was that he wanted to hear, which you were probably about to do.

“You know how much I hate seeing you in such a state. And that got me thinking, how about I offer you a little stress relief? Just to make sure that you are in tiptop shape for all the adventuring that lies ahead, of course,” he ran his hand down your side, lifting your shirt a little to press his palm against your skin.

“Astarion,” you sighed with a smile, “if you want to get me alone and out of my pants, you have to wait till later. I can’t just let dinner burn because you are bored and wanting a stress relief of your own.”

“Tsk, you are no fun.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Luckily for you, my dear, you are in a relationship with the most creative lover!” he boasted, exposing his fangs in a cheeky smile. “You don’t even have to move, I will take care of everything. In fact,” he breathed down your neck, making a shiver pass through you, “I will not even touch you, in a way.”

You frowned, wondering what he was up to.

Seeing your confusion, he whispered his plan into your ear. Your face flushed from the mere suggestion.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Astarion!”

“My dear, this is happening. The only choice you get in the matter is whether you get to preserve a bit of your modesty.”

He took Gale’s apron from the bag near the makeshift table and shook it out.

“Apron or no apron?”

“Astarion, I really don’t think-”

“I’m not asking you to think, my sweet. You do enough of that every single day. I’m asking you a very simple question. Apron or no apron?”

“Apron,” you whispered shakily as he slipped it on you.

“Good choice,” he all but growled, pulling on the ties a little harsher than needed and making a tight knot. “And try to be discreet about it, dear. Wouldn’t want to alert the rest to what is going on right in front of their noses.”

The flush spread from your face to your neck.

“You are a terrible influence.”

“And you are thrilled by the thought, admit it. But darling,” he was suddenly serious, “this is all a bit of fun. If at any point it stops being fun, I will stop.”

You knew that this was always the case, Astarion would never force you, but were grateful that he made sure to point it out anyway.

“I know. I trust you,” you turned your head a little and pecked his cheek.

“And what are you two lovebirds talking about, hm?” Shadowheart said with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest. In spite of addressing both of them it was Astarion who she was looking at with distrust and annoyance.

“Nothing that would interest you,” Astarion moved and lifted both his hands, palms up, a perfect picture of innocence. “But if you are so concerned, I’m walking away now.”

“You better, Fangs!” Karlach walked past, on her way to fetch water. “Keep your hands where we can see them. Wouldn’t want to waste all that food just because you have nothing to occupy yourself with.”

“Tsk, you think so lowly of me. And just when I was about to renounce my old ways and become the poster boy for gentleman-like behaviour! There,” he sat gracefully on the stool next to Shadowheart’s tent, crossing his arms and legs petulantly, “happy now?”

You listened to the two bicker with fondness and went back to the task in hand. Absentmindedly, you wondered if Astarion was so distracted by sparring verbally with Shadowheart, a common occurrence, that he forgot all about you. The thought didn’t bother you, in fact you were a little relieved. What were you even thinking agreeing to something so lewd with everyone being right there? How unlike you, how scandalous!

But then you felt it again, this time on your inner thigh. Invisible hands insistently ascending until they reached the apex between your thighs, lightly brushing against the fabric there. Your eyes widened and you withdrew from the table with a jolt, unsure how you felt about the sensation. Your eyes snapped in the direction that Astarion took, but he seemed to have moved on from Shadowheart and was now arguing with Lae’zel.

Apparently, that did not require as much thought as one would think, because you felt the Mage Hand move towards you again. Thankfully, it was invisible. Something that he learned to do and was very pleased by the opportunities that newfound knowledge would offer.

Suddenly, you realised where you remembered the book Astarion was reading earlier from. It was the spell book that held the secret to advanced Mage Hand! The one that he told Gale that you accidentally sold to the vendor! Gale lectured you about the importance of keeping the travel trunk in perfect order for a tenday after that!

Just as you were about to march over to the elf and give him a piece of your mind, you felt the Mage Hand slip into your underwear. Looking down, you panicked. Perhaps the spell made it invisible, but the movement beneath the clothes would make what is happening rather obvious. Thankfully, the makeshift table near the cooking pot was high enough to partially hide you. The apron was proving helpful too.

You felt the tadpole in your mind stir as Astarion’s voice appeared in your mind.

I understand that this may be a little distracting, my sweet, but appearances must be kept up. Chop, chop!

You grit your teeth and lifted your knife. Right. Vegetables, meat and- Ooh, yes!

You felt a finger inside you and a thumb circling the swollen nub slowly.

Do try to stay still, darling. Conjuring up a second Mage Hand to keep you in place might make everyone in the vicinity aware of what is happening.

Bastard. That beautiful, devious, impossible bastard! As if staying still came easily to you at such times and he knew that far too well. Astarion so enjoyed in making you squirm.

My, my, you think me beautiful, my dear? Is this the thought dominating your days and surfacing during your dreams?

But of course this would be his only takeaway from listening in on your thoughts! You shoved him out of your mind and his mocking, sultry voice disappeared, but not before you heard an arrogant chuckle.

Being banished clearly did not sit well with Astarion as the Mage Hand doubled its efforts, making you put down the knife lest you dropped it on your foot and grip the table tightly with shaking hands. You bit your lip to stifle a moan and forced yourself not to rock against the fingers pumping in and out of you with increasing speed. This was torture. Sweet, overwhelming torture.

You buried your face in your hands as another finger joined the first two. It was too much and you were sure that someone was about to catch on and-

“Is everything alright?” you heard Wyll’s voice.

It might as well have been a bucket of cold water. You immediately straightened and looked at him with wide, panicking eyes. Did he know? He couldn’t have known! How could he possibly-

“Are you feeling quite well? You look like you are running a fever,” he was about to move around the table and towards you.

You had about ten seconds to make a decision. Because there was no way that you would live this one down. So you grabbed the ladle, shoved it into Wyll’s hands, and sprinted towards your tent, grabbing Astarion by the collar on the way. The vampire had the gall to give Wyll a wink and shout, “Do start eating without us!”

You half-pushed, half-threw Astarion into your tent and closed the flap, making sure the damn thing was closed properly. Then, you gave yourself a minute to calm your erratic heartbeat.

When you turned, you were greeted with the sight of Astarion lounging on the bedroll. He was very naked, giving you a lazy, knowing smile.

“Where did you clothes go? I took my eyes off you for no more than a minute!”

“Why so displeased, love? Did you need me dressed for what is about to happen next?”

The nerve of that man! Looking at you like a cat that got the cream! As if he knew that you would happily jump atop of that. He was right, of course, but that was beside the point.

“Why Astarion, who knew that you would get so excited over this? And I didn’t even have to undress or touch you for you to get this,” you motioned to his cock standing at attention, “worked up.”

That wiped the arrogant smile off his face. Hah! Take that you handsome bastard!

Closing the distance between you, you crouched in front of Astarion, taking him into your hand and moving it torturously slow up and down the shaft, eliciting a groan as he thrust into your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” he laughed in between gasps.

“Yes, very much, thank you.”

Keeping the rhythm, you started unbuttoning your shirt with your free hand. It would have probably looked sexy if the damn apron wasn’t still on you. Just as you wanted to untie it, Astarion stopped you.

“No. Keep it on,” he moved to help you out of your clothes. “I thought it looked rather fetching on you earlier.”

You nodded slowly, eyes fixated on his hard erection. You explored him. The very tip of his cock was traced with gentle fingers, then down the sides until your fingers went even lower, tracing around his balls before finally cupping them, kneading them gently, reverently.

Astarion was shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, allowing you to take your time. Feeling emboldened by his reactions, you spread his legs wider before lowering yourself, head between his legs. You kissed the tip of him before swirling her tongue around like you were savouring a treat. Slowly, inch by inch, you swallowed more and more before you stopped, unable to go any further. You sucked gently at first, before picking up speed, wrapping fingers around the base, stroking where mouth couldn’t reach. Your other hand rolled his balls in your palm.

“Oh darling, you must stop,” he groaned.

Freezing, you slowly pulled away and looked up at him with eyes heavy with passion. Did he want to stop? Was this too much?

He reached down and grabbed your shoulders, falling onto his back and dragging you on top. Sprawled on top of him, you could see Astarion was physically trying to hold himself back. He kissed you hard, leaving you breathless and panting.

Astarion rolled you over, his hips fitting between your legs. You felt the tip of his arousal pressing against your entrance.

“Eyes on me, my love.”

You could not resist it when he spoke to you in that breathy way.

“Always.”

You looked into his eyes when he thrust into you for the first time, making you moan.

You murmured the Silence spell between pants, unsure of whether you would be able to keep concentrating on it for long.

“Do you really think you will manage to concentrate on the spell, my sweet?” he mocked you playfully between shallow, teasing thrusts.

“You seemed to have managed well enough,” you bit back, arching off the bedroll to get more of him in, “or is arguing with Lae’zel and Shadowheart becoming second nature?”

“Oh, please, as if I could get a word in edgewise. Once those two get going any off-hand comment will do. You, on the other hand,” he finally thrust into you in earnest, his breath shuddering out of him in relief as he was finally nestled in you the way he wanted all afternoon, “may find yourself distracted so thoroughly that- oh fuck! You are so tight,” he growled, words failing him. Astarion grit his teeth as he moved his hips, lost in the sensation, ashamed of himself for wanting to come already.

Truth be told, running his mouth would only go that far in trying to make sure that you came first. But then he looked at you, eyes shut, cheeks flushed and felt a wave of affection. Because you were his and he was yours, and you were enjoying each other. No shame, no judgement. So he let go and decided to be in the moment with you.

“You are doing so well, my sweet,” he murmured, kissing your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. “So wet, so good. I wanted this… My love.”

As Astarion’s pace sped up, your legs came over his hips to wrap around him, unbelievable pressure building deep inside. And then you lost yourself in him, in his pants, the movement of his hips, the way his fingers dug into your back as his grip on you tightened. You whimpered for him to bite you. And as he did, you held onto him, wanting to feel more and then more still. You gasped at a deep thrust, tightening your walls around him when he hit a spot that made you cry out in pleasure as you came.

Astarion gasped when you closed around him. Faster, harder; he couldn’t help himself. He was rough and he knew it, but the way you felt didn’t leave much in the way of his control. His own release came suddenly and, thrusting erratically, he rode the wave of pleasure until he was completely spent.

He couldn’t move. And to be honest he didn’t want to move. He was still inside you snug heat, listening to the wild beat of your heart. Giving himself another moment, Astarion kissed your shoulder and reluctantly pulled out. He didn’t move much farther than that; his arm was under your shoulders in an embrace, and his head rested on your chest. He was content to listen as your breathing evened out and heart slowed down. When your tremulous fingers stroked a curl out his face, Astarion had a frightening thought that he was absolutely sure that you ruined him so completely with your love and affection that he would be unable to survive without your presence in his life. Of course, he would probably never admit it. Still, as you shared a slow, unhurried kiss, perhaps those bards had a point when they sang about love and such.

Dinner was an awkward affair. You looked at your bowl and your bowl only, your cheeks aflame as you physically felt the judging glares shot in your direction. Because you did exactly as they suspected. Abandoned the cooking pot to fuck the vampire. Surprisingly, it was Gale who came to your defence.

“Now friends, you shouldn’t judge these two too harshly. I’ve read many a book that mentioned the inherent eroticism of cooking. No wonder they got caught up in the moment!”

Shadowheart did not look convinced or impressed by that explanation, but mercifully chose not to say anything. Perhaps because against all odds the food turned out not as terrible as expected. Of course, that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that Wyll added salt and spices, and made sure your dinner did not burn.

“But perhaps food preparation should be left to me, after all,” Gale went on. “Speaking of, has anyone seen my apron?”

You were mid chew and almost chocked on your food.

“I spilled something on it, so I had to wash it,” you said, not reacting when you heard Astarion chuckle into his wine. “But you will get it back as soon as it dries,” you quickly assured Gale, feeling terrible for having used it at all.

“Splendid! I am rather fond of that apron,” he nodded, going back to his meal.

But Astarion too found himself unwilling to part with it. Which is why he swiped the apron quickly and discreetly, squirreling it away until next time. Because there would certainly be a next time.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#augustarion #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader

216 notes · View notes

celli-ohs · 23 days ago

Text

Show Must Go On

pairing: secret softie!park jongseong x reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: When you told the waitress to give your compliments to the chef, you didn't expect the chef to come out and thank you personally, and you really didn't expect the chef to be your classmate Park Jongseong. Realizing how bad this could be, he has you keep it a secret. That shouldn't be too hard for you to do he thinks, but you're full of surprises- and slip-ups.

before you read: character profiles | sunghoon series

warnings: language, loser enhypen

word count: 2.7k

tag list (open): @ancnymcnzjy @melancholy-z @lamin143 @soobinbunnie5 @benny1989fredd @bbsantc

note: part 2 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Entry 001: 22/05/24

Believe it or not, but Park Jongseong wakes up at 5 am every morning, and has done so for the past three years of his life. His friends would have a fit if they heard that, as he was notoriously known for running late to class every single day.

His teachers wouldn’t believe him either, as Mr. Lee himself has chased Jongseong down one too many times for trying to sneak into first period half an hour late by hopping the side gate.

(Riki’s stupid April Fool’s prank had him up at 3 am, his dad thought he was going crazy for how early he was up that day.)

But it wasn’t like he was doing crimes or wasting time before school. No, Jongseong was busy working his ass off at the restaurant his family owned, prepping the kitchen before they opened at 7:30 am sharp.

“Fresh eggs are beautiful, aren’t they?” His mother smiles as Jongseong helps his father carry in the mounds of cartons of eggs the delivery driver just dropped off. She’s holding one of the brown eggs, admiring its color.

“They are,” He nods with a gentle smile. She chuckles and ruffles his bed hair. “Let’s go, we still need to wash and chop the cabbage for kimchi.” She tells him, and he follows her deeper into the kitchen.

Jongseong’s mornings were usually pretty peaceful. He and his parents prepare the restaurant for a long day ahead: making a fresh batch of kimchi to ferment, restocking ingredients, cleaning and pre-cutting meat, washing any leftover dishes, tidying up the restaurant- you name it, he’s done it.

He took pride in knowing he’s able to help and create not only delicious meals, but an enjoyable atmosphere for people to eat in.

“You better hurry, you still need to get ready for school.” His mother urges. They’d returned home to eat their own breakfast. Jongseong shovels his food down his throat (his mom made him scrambled soft tofu and eggs over rice).

“And didn’t you say you’ve still got some Biology homework to finish?” His dad asks, washing a plate.

His eyes widened. He did have a page left in his workbook. Crap.

“Gotta go bye!” Jongseong swallows the rest of his food, downing his drink in seconds before placing his dishes in the sink. “Don’t forget to brush your hair!” he hears his mother call, before he dashes upstairs to his bedroom.

15 minutes later Jongseong showered, changed out of his dirty work clothes into his school uniform, and is now struggling to blow dry his hair while simultaneously brushing his teeth.

He checks the clock, it’s 7:42. He had 18 minutes to get to school. If he ran, he could catch up to the guys, and maybe convince Jaeyun to help him with the last page of his Biology homework during lunch.

He rinses his mouth, and runs back to his room to stuff his books and binder into his bag. At the front door, he trips on his way out while slipping on his shoes.

Jongseong runs across the street, barging into the already bustling restaurant. He waves to a few regulars who greet him cheerily. “Mom?” He leans against the counter, calling out for her.

“I’m here! I made you lunch too,” She holds up the neat looking container, and he happily places it into his bag. “Have a good day at school alright? Don’t be late, I don’t know if I can handle another call from the office about you being tardy,” She warns him.

“Thanks, I’ll be fine,” He assures her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

His mother nods, and pats his head. “Be safe, I love you.” She gives him a hug and kisses his cheek. Feeling embarrassed, he blushes, reeling back (he’d wipe his cheek if it weren’t for the fact he knows his mom would complain).

“Okay, see you later,” He grins, walking out.

“Bye son!” His dad cheers, sticking his head out from the kitchen window. Jongseong laughs before ducking out back onto the street.

He dashes down the road, running through smaller streets and alleys as fast as he can. His watch reads 7:50, he’s gonna need to speed it up. Jongseong decided to take a shortcut, sprinting through a park to save him some time.

“Hiya mister!” One of the little kids shouts as he goes down the slide. Jongseong chuckles and gives him a big wave as he darts past.

Going back on the main road, Jongseong decides to climb a fence and he’s happy to see on the other side a group of familiar boys, walking leisurely a few meters ahead. Perfect.

Jongseong leaps, landing a bit roughly, not bothering to dust himself off before jogging over to join his friends.

“Thought you’d never show,” Sunoo greets. “You need to stop sleeping in,” Sunghoon lectures. Instead of arguing, he just nods, rolling his eyes.

“Where’s Jungwon?” He asks, looking at the group to realize his best friend was nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean?” Heeseung looks at him, confused. “Jongseong has been late all week, he doesn’t know.” Riki answers.

“Remember Jungwon's president now? He has to come to school early,” Jaeyun fills him in, as they enter school through the front doors. With a groan, Jongseong nods, he’d forgotten about that.

Elections were last Friday, and two days ago on Monday, the results were posted. Jongseong had lost the position he wanted as Treasurer.

While initially upset, Jongseong saw the silver lining of it all. He had no idea how he would be able to juggle being on the student body council, and help his parents with the restaurant (on top of his grades… yikes).

Jungwon on the other hand, had miraculously won the position as Student Body President, his biggest fears coming true.

“They won’t even let me pass it off to Euijoo,” Jungwon sighs as he calls Jongseong a few nights ago. “I don’t even want to be president, Euijoo does! This has to be rigged, my speech was horrible. I literally told people to not vote for me!”

“So do we actually know if the votes were rigged?” Jongseong follows Jaeyun to his classroom. “Dude, Jungwon’s super popular. He’s friendly to everyone, funny, good looking, and down to earth. Who wouldn’t vote for him?”

“He’s like a breath of fresh air compared to all the uptight and strict past presidents” Sunghoon pops into the conversation. “Or at least that’s what my girlfriend told me.” He shrugs. “Oh geez, here we go again,” Jaeyun rolls his eyes.

Ever since Sunghoon got a girlfriend, he’s been insufferable. They’ve been dating for a total of one week and Sunghoon has made it very very apparent that he believes he’s the chosen one.

Before Sunghoon can argue, his girlfriend arrives, tackling the boy in a hug and distracting him for his friends. “Anyways” Jongseong clears his throat. “Jayeun, think you could help me finish my Biology homework at lunch?” The other boy eyes him, looking uninterested. “Do I have to?”

Jongseong huffs. “I’ll buy you a Yakult.” Jaeyun looks tempted. “Buy two and I’ll help.” Jongseong gives in, sighing with a nod while his friend smirks triumphantly. The warning bell rings and Jongseong begins to depart back to his class.

“And make sure they’re nice and cold!” Jaeyun calls out. Jongseong doesn’t even turn around as he gives him a thumbs up.

“Can’t you just do the entire thing for me?” Jongseong whines. “Not unless you buy me one more Yakult.” Jaeyun teases. Like hell he’d pay for another tiny overpriced yogurt cup, even if it was supposed to be good for you.

“Give me that,” He swipes his workbook back, trying to focus while Jaeyun laughs at him.

“Biology isn’t that hard,” Riki says as he takes a bite of his food. “Remind us again what’s your rank in your class?” Jongseong asks as he scribbles down an answer. Riki goes quiet, mumbling obscenities as Sunoo cackles at him. “He’s like five away from last,”

Someone suddenly throws their tray down onto the table, catching everyone by surprise.

“Look who finally arrived!” Riki’s mood flips and he graciously stands to bow, hands pointing to the empty spot beside him. “Your seat, your majesty!”

Jungwon doesn’t look the least bit excited as he sits down.

“Hey, we saw you on the intercom this morning! Good job on the announcements,” Heeseung smiles. “Thanks.” Jungwon’s eye twitches.

“That was so funny,” Riki begins to laugh. “Dude, Riki C and I were gonna piss our pants.”

Jungwon’s eyes turn sharp, he suddenly grabs Riki by the collar, scaring everyone at the table.

“I know where you live Nishimura, I will hunt you down and personally make your life a living hell. Your sister told me you still sleep with your baby blanket. Don’t test me.” Jungwon growls, and Jongseong has to step in and pull him away.

“Okay, calm down prez, you’ve got an entire cafeteria watching you.” He reminds his best friend. (Riki clutches his throat as he moves to sit next to Heeseung. The senior comforts him, petting his hair and whispering soothing words.)

Jungwon settles, now moping as he picks at his food. “If I have to sit through one more boring ass meeting, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m going crazy.” Jongseong eyes him as he finishes his workbook, stuffing it into his bag and pulling out the lunch his mom packed.

“Looks like I dodged a bullet,” He jokes, only to receive a glare from Jungwon. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don’t stress out too much,” Heeseung says. “If you want, I can ask my sister to help you out. She’s the new secretary.”

Not only Jungwon, but the entire table, is silent as they stare at Heeseung for a total of seven seconds.

“Your sister is Lee Yunah?!” Jungwon hisses, voice lowering as he mentions the girl’s name.

“Yeah,” Heeseung frowns. “You guys didn’t know? Everyone says we look alike.”

But no one seemed to hear him, everyone was confused how someone so nice, friendly, and popular as Lee Yunah, was related to… well, Heeseung.

“I sit across from her in class, we talk all the time, she’s never mentioned you were her brother.” Sunoo looks shocked.

“I don’t know, we don’t really interact at school since we’re in different grades, so maybe that’s why?” Heeseung shrugs, continuing to eat his food.

That was definitely not the reason why.

“I think I can talk to her myself,” Jungwon mumbles. Heeseung doesn’t seem bothered.

“Hey!” Jaeyun suddenly speaks up. “I don’t have practice today, you guys wanna go to the arcade after school?”

Heeseung looks ecstatic at this. “Sure! I’d love to go!” Riki also looks more cheerful.

“Yeah, can my girlfriend come?” Sunghoon asks. “Eh, why not? She’s probably better at games than you anyways.” Jaeyun snickers while Sunghoon glares.

“Well I can’t, I’ve got to paint my tree.” Sunoo sighs. “Paint your what?” Jongseong swears he heard him wrong. “My tree costume. You guys do remember I'm Tree number two in the musical, right? We’re doing Wizard of Oz.”

“Oh really? I just thought you just really liked plants all of a sudden.” Riki admits and Sunoo rolls his eyes.

“Well, I’ve got another meeting after school. So I can’t. We’re gonna discuss appropriate and inappropriate ways to wear our uniforms.” Jungwon looks distressed.

“What about you Jongseong? Wanna go?” Jaeyun looks hopeful at him.

Jongseong’s lips grow into a thin line as he winces. “Can’t. I’ve got baseball.” He lies.

The other boys (minus Jungwon) groan in unison. “Your baseball league is crazy, practice every day, including weekends?!” Jaeyun exclaims.

“We haven’t been to any of your games, you never invite us.” Sunghoon complains. “And when you do, we’re always busy or the game gets canceled.” Sunoo points out.

“I bet you it’s because he’s so bad he keeps getting benched. Doesn’t want us to watch him sit all day.” Riki chuckles. Jongseong doesn’t do anything but sigh.

“Sorry, but they’re really strict. Maybe one of these days you'll see me play.” He feigns sadness.

“Quick question, which arcade are we going to?” Heeseung asks. As the boys turn their attention back to their afternoon plans, Jongseong glances at his best friend.

Jungwon looks at him disapprovingly.

He wonders for how much longer he can keep this little lie up.

He’s chopping up some scallions when his mom bursts into the kitchen.

“Son! I thought I told you to go home and finish your homework?” She places her hands on her hips.

“I already finished my homework.” Jongseong fibs.

“Really? Or are you just lying so you can help out tonight?” She eyes him.

“Okay I didn’t.” He tells the truth. His mother does not seem happy with that. “But you and dad need help. Chef Jiyoung has already left, and Chaeyoung and Minjoon are off. I can cook while you and dad serve. Plus my homework isn’t that hard, I can do it before I go to bed.”

His mom sighs, mumbling something about how he stresses her out sometimes. Jongseong has a feeling he’s about to be lectured.

“You’re such a good kid, you know that?” She surprises him by ruffling his hair. His worries subsided.

“And you’re a good mom.” He tells her, feeling shy. “Here’s table 6’s order.” He hands her the plate of food before she can get sappy with him. As she walks out to serve the food, his mother wears the biggest smile.

Jongseong continues his shift, cooking every meal his family throws at him with ease. He always loved to cook. It first started out from just watching his parents, it fascinated him how simple ingredients could become the best meal he’s ever eaten.

When he got older, he began to help around the kitchen. Jongseong found it fun to learn the process of each dish, and enjoyed it even more when the food came out delicious.

Now he’s a master in the kitchen, whipping out dishes without as much as a glance at the recipe. His dad would even argue Jongseong was a better cook than him now.

It’s the end of the night, and Jongseong is cleaning up the kitchen when his parents come in chuckling.

“Son! You’ll never guess what happened. Your dream came true!” His dad chortles. Jongseong looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Remember when you told us you’d always wanted to go out and personally thank a customer for enjoying your food like they do in the movies? Well, it’s happened! A lovely young lady wanted us to give her compliments to the chef, you!” His mother beams.

Jongseong stands there, baffled. He’d told his parents that silly dream when he was eight years old after watching Ratatouille for the first time.

“That’s cool.” He nods. “You should go out there, say thanks. She was very sweet.” His mom encourages.

“Uh, I don’t think so, that’s-“ “Oh son please! She’s the last customer of the night, there’s no one else out there. Don’t be embarrassed.” His dad pushes.

“Plus, she’s very pretty! You should be excited such a pretty girl enjoyed your cooking.” His mom acts as if that’s the biggest accomplishment he’s ever achieved.

His parents look at him eagerly, and Jongseong gives in, sighing as he unties his apron. “Fine, but I’m never doing this again.” He grumbles, much to his parents' delight.

He brushes himself off, running a hand through his hair as he steps out to the front. He spots the person sitting in the booth, their back facing him.

With a deep breath, he approaches.

“Hi, I heard you really enjoyed your meal. I wanted to thank you, I’m the chef.” He states, as he walks over, trying his best to sound joyful. “Is there anything I can do to-“

“Jongseong..? You work here?” The person interrupts.

He finally looks and Jongseong immediately realizes he’s fucked up, since the person he’s just walked up to was you, L/n Y/n, the new Student Body Treasurer.

Why is he screwed? That's because EN-High students aren’t allowed to have jobs, and you’ve caught him red-handed.

Jongseong’s life was ruined the moment he saw you.

Entry 002: 23/05/24

Show Must Go On masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

comment/reply for taglist!

115 notes · View notes