#the moment my hand stops hurting I'll color him

[peasant-player]

Elrond with dramborleg WIP ! !

Inspired by @polutrope that elrond should use a battle axe.

I agree.

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. isagi yoichi x reader , bachira meguru x reader , itoshi rin x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~2.2k words . 0.7-0.8k words each.

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each on. fluff. f!reader. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. isagi, bachira and rin may seem ooc.

ISAGI YOICHI. when he misunderstood something on valentine's day—

　HE realizes that he has the biggest crush on you when you walked towards him on valentine's day with a beautiful decorated, red box in your hands. Actually it was like a normal day for him—considering that he didn't receive any chocolate.

Well it's not like he minded anyway. Again, valentine's day was always just like another day in school. Yeah but that was until he saw you at the end of the day in all your glory with chocolate in your hand, a bright smile on your lips.

The sun itself shone down on the school, capturing your beauty just right, reminding him of those typical romance movies you never stop talking about. Nonetheless, was that chocolate in your hand? Is that box... for him?

Did you actually like him? He thought the rumors were fake? You never gave any signs that you were crushing on him so he never gave those rumors much thought. And now it seems like he should've prepared for this day!

Nevermind, he can give you tenfold back on white day. The only thing he should do is remain calm and sort his messed up thoughts. At the end, he couldn't help but flush as you stood infront of him, your hand with the box stretched out for him.

"Ah, [n-name]..!" he stuttered.

"Here, 'chi." you paused for a moment, making his heart beat even faster, "a boy confessed to me and gave me chocolate. But I don't feel like eating them, so I'm giving it to you."

It came crashing down. The colors of his face drained. His soul almost flew out of his body. "You okay?" you questioned, a little concerned about the state your friend was in. "Hey, wanna go to the nurse office real quick?! Don't die, Yoichi!"

"I-It's alright... I'm alright..." he blurted out to less your worries, "sure... I'll take those chocolates..."

Even though he assured you he was fine while accepting the box, you were still concerned about his dire state. But you eventually figured out why he was so shocked after forcing him to spill out what his problem was.

"Pfft— You're so silly!" you laughed your ass off, slapping his back firmly which made him yelp out in pain. Not that it really hurt, he was just being dramatic. You think. "Quit being dramatic."

"Hey, you slapped my back! And it did hurt..."

You still think your slap wasn't that painful after he scooted further away from you. "Stop exaggerating." you deadpanned before standing up from the bench, surprising him slightly by the abrupt movement. "Wait here."

With that, you left. Wow, did you really take your leave after slapping his back? Was he actually exaggerating? His back still hurts though. "Did I really just mess up my chance?" he asked himself, his breath hitched, "is she mad?"

Okay, please tell Isagi Yoichi he did not lose his bestfriend since primary school over something that petty. Well, he did thought you had a crush on him. But he would've accepted! Wait, he would've dated you? His best friend? What.

"Calm down and stop overthinking. She will come back." he muttered under his breath, hiding his face in his hands as he bent forward to support his elbows on top of his knees. "after all, she demanded that I should wait. I'm a bit distressed, that's all."

Maybe he should ask you out instead of the other way around. Yeah, maybe he should shoot his shot. You wouldn't reject him, would you? "Maybe I am delusional." he huffed, the blush slowly crept up to his cheeks.

All of a sudden—he felt something cold against his neck that resulted in him flinching. It was too cold for his liking. "Ah, cold!" he immediately sprang up from the bench as a reflex and took a few steps away.

Only to see you behind the seat with a confused expression.

"[name], stop scaring me! This isn't the first time I told you to quit!"

"What were you mumbling to yourself?" you huffed before throwing him something to his direction.

Isagi didn't had time to react but was fast enough to catch the box you had thrown. "Is that chocolate?" he blinked for a moment, not being able to tear his eyes away from the velvet box. This little box was prettier than the other one.

"Yeah. Thought it might cheer you up." you opened the can of cold soda you brought with you. "It's valentine's day, so a little present from your dearest friend won't hurt."

Taking in the sight infront of him, he felt how his face slightly heated up. "Thanks." was this a confession? Was this the confession he needed to be called delusional now? The box was really pretty. Even though it's bought.

"Make sure to pay back tenfold on white day, yes?" you teased him.

"Of course." he answered.

You were surprised by his beaming smile, not expecting this kind of response. So you returned his smile.

After that day, he saw you in an entirely different light. And you did so too.

After all, you're the funniest and prettiest! You're also the one who talked with him without hesitation on your first day of school even though your friends warned you about his weird behaviour. But you shrugged your shoulders with a playful smile.

BACHIRA MEGURU. when he took in the sincerity in your eyes—

　BACHIRA liked you. Not the romantic like-like, rather the plantonic like-like as a friend. But he somehow liked you more than a friend, less than a lover. Something inbetween probably. Again, not that he cares though.

You've been pretty good friends since then, always sitting next to him during most of the classes. And he's also the first one who gets asked by you if you wanna team up for the next school project—warning, he never does one thing to.

The only thing he'd do while you're doing the project is yap, yap and yap. You're doing the whole work. But he does help you if you need opinion or anything else. "Can you hand me the glue?" or "Scissors." or "What do you think? Is the text too small?"

Fast forward—you've grown to be pretty good friends. Silly jokes and banters never came to an end, the laughs were light and pleasant to the ears, shared hugs were warm and cuddly. People assumed you were a couple to be honest.

"Why did the crab cross the road? It didn’t—it used the sidewalk." he mimicked the tongs of a crab, arousing a laugh out of you.

"You're so silly, Meguru!" you laughed.

The jokes would've reminded someone of a dad joke, but for you, it was a first-class joke from the best comedian. Your shoulders slightly shook before you tried to calm yourself down, your aura beamed brightly like his as you smiled.

"Never stop being funny."

"Yes, ma'am!" he grinned, folding his arms on the table, "I had a joke about paper today, but it was tearable!"

One thing Bachira loved was that you shared a humor, laughing at the dumbest jokes together was like a dream for him. "You're so cute!" you squealed, grabbing his surprise soft cheeks. "Your cheeks are the best, man! Ahh!"

Not to mention, whenever you came close, he would notice the twinkle in your eyes—a twinkle that allowed him to believe your unmatched kindness and sincerity were genuine. Genuine for him and him alone.

People do say, eyes are the window of the owner's heart and soul. And Bachira always decided which person had good or bad intentions through their eyes. They were either carrying hatred in them or sincerity like you.

To be frank, he can see a person's heart the clearest through their eyes. And sometimes, when you're talking about things you love, he can't help but stare into your eyes the entire time and admire how they began to shine.

Unfortunately, he's unable to listen what you were saying, making you repeat things very often. Just like right now. "—guru? Meguru, are you zoning out again?" you asked, a little concerned about his attention span.

"What did you say?" he chimed in with a innocent smile, looking like a baby chick that was chirping.

"Ah nevermind!" you huffed, crossing your arms.

It's then when he realized he was being oblivious to his feelings all the time. Did he ever notice how pretty you are up close? Is this what people call crush? If it is, Bachira thinks he fell real deep for you. Like he has he biggest crush on you.

His grin faded for a second staring at your eyes that were filled with worry. "You okay?" you asked, touching his shoulder gently. Wow, he just fell in love with your eyes—they were genuine. Of course. We're talking about you.

"[name]..." he paused to jump on top of you, latching himself onto you, "I love you so much!"

"H-Hey, we're faLING!" you lost your balance.

And yet, he didn't let go.

Rin is also the one who thinks, wow how did she do this? Like, bringing him to the cinema to watch some damn romance movie. He would've rather watched the new horror movie that's out, but you wouldn't quit whining about the new lovey-dovey movie.

ITOSHI RIN. when he caught himself imagining a future with you—

　RIN thinks you're delusional. You're always talking about your dream man and then giggle like a highschool girl, ignoring the fact that you currently are a highschool girl. You were a bit— scratch that, you were delusional with those standards.

Sitting next to next each other, his eyes bore itself into the big screen that displayed some tragic scene. What a typical story. What a tragic scene. He cannot sit there anymore, the seat felt itchy and his mind drifted away.

Not long until he'll fall asleep. He can't though, not after hearing a quiet sob from his right. His eyes wandered to the side, only for them to land on your face—covered with tears as you sobbed like always when something sad happend.

You looked like the actress on the movie who also was crying because their love was impossible, forbidden love. "Quit crying like a baby." he whispered to not disturb other people, handing over a handkerchief for you.

"Thanks..." you mumbled and wiped your tears away.

“Wait for me, my lady...”

Rin continued to watch how the knight was giving the lady a handkerchief, his personal one he spent hours one to craft and decorate. "Once we'll see each other again, you can give it back. But I prefer you'd keep it." the knight swept her hair behind her hair.

"Please come back quickly." she plead.

"I will. That's a promise."

Suddenly, he felt someone lightly shaking his shoulder. It was you, giving him back his handkerchief. "Keep it." he paused. Just like in the movie. Did he catch himself locked in because of that movie? "Err..." he trailed off, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

"Here." seems like you didn't hear it. "Or should I wash it before returning it?"

Quietly, he took back his handkerchief while shaking his head. "It's fine..." he grumbled under his breath, gripping onto the piece of cloth. His cheeks heated up because of the embarrassment he just said. He was not the knight in the movie.

But he secretly wouldn't mind if you're the lady. He also wouldn't mind, seeing you in the crowd of people, cheering his name during a match. He wouldn't mind if you kissed him for every goal he scored. He wouldn't—you infected him.

Did... did Rin just imagined you as a couple? You must have infected him with those thoughts. It's your fault. But he was wondering what kind of wedding dress would suit you perfectly. He could already hear the bells ringing—shit.

He deadpanned before hiding the upper part of his face with his hand. What is he thinking about? He was already imagining you two during your wedding. You would've looked beautiful though—and he said you were delusional!

"Rin, can I get my drink?" your voice snapped him out of your mind, asking for his drink. Why the heck does he have your drink?

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a drink—not seeing there was acutally a second drink.

"It's the wrong one... Did you buy sprite?" you returned the drink. "Rin, you gave me your drink."

Shoot.

"Sorry." he apologized, giving you the other one. Shit. Did you share an indirect kiss? He was drinking out of that one earlier! His face heated up because of... embarrassment? He is being lukewarm as fuck.

"Hope you don't mind that I drank out of your cup..." you whispered.

"I don't." he answered without hesitation.

The only thing he minds is that he caught himself slacking. "I'm going to the bathroom." he excused himself, standing up and quickly made his way out of here as you watched him in concern. Since when was the cinema so hot?

No Rin. You just realized that you had the biggest crush on [name].

"Did I do something wrong?" you muttered before returning to the movie. "Nevermind, it's an Itoshi we're talking about. He can deal with it."

At the end of all Rin knew—your love wouldn't be impossible.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's — frame lock here I come !!!

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 10

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. Part 9 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 11 is here!

You dont know why you're crying.

No.

You do know why you're crying. You dont understand why you're crying for that reason.

You've been sitting out on the balcony after Mehmed confessed to you, crying like a child who'd been yelled at by their favourite teacher- quietly and shamefully.

"Y/n?" You quickly wipe your tears away as you hear him.

Ibrahim tilts his head as he walks in front of you, his concern growing as he sees your teary eyes on your veiled face. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

You sniffle, shaking your head.

"Then?" He notices your mismatched niqaab, the red color reminding him of the torn shirt of Mehmed he saw earlier. "Did something happen with Mehmed?"

You freeze, then nod.

He takes a deep breath before sitting beside you, keeping a respectable distance between you two.

"I know you might be thinking that he's a prince so he wont get in trouble for what he did, but I'm the grand vizir and the sultan's closest friend." He looks at you. "I can help you if you tell me what he did to make you cry."

"I... I am not crying because of Mehmed." You pause. "Mehmed confessed his love for me."

"And you're overwhelmed? Or do you not want his love?" Ibrahim asked cautiously.

"Of course I dont want his love, its just- it reminded me of someone." You close your eyes and immediately those blue orbs flash to your mind. "Someone from... the past."

"Did you love him?" Your eyes snapped open.

"What?"

"This person you talk of... did you love him?" Ibrahim asked.

"I..." Did you? Did you really love him? Even after what he did to you, did you still love him?

"I used to." You sniffled. "You dont love him anymore? Then why are you crying?"

Yeah. Why am I crying if I dont love him anymore?

"I guess... I just miss him. And the memories we made, the way he made me feel." You whisper.

Ibrahim looked ahead at the dark sky, clear and filled with stars. "Go to him then."

You shake your head, frowning. "I cant." You wipe the tears from your eyes. "Pasha, how do I... how do I stop Mehmed? I cant, I cant be with him. In any capacity."

"I'm working on finding a way out for you, Y/n. I promised I'd keep you safe, didnt I?" Ibrahim's determined face put you at ease somewhat.

"Just tell me."

"In due time." He looked back at the sky. "The weather is nice tonight, not humid like yesterday."

You follow his gaze to the sky. "It rained earlier." You take a deep breath, trying to inhale the sweet earthy smell of rain.

There's a word for it. Petrichor.

You looked at the man beside you when you felt movement. Ibrahim had removed his turban and loosened the collar of his kaftan. He ran a hand through his thick hair with his eyes closed as a breeze of air passed, and you saw his shoulders relax.

The wind blew your niqaab as well, lifting it just long enough for you to smell the cool air.

"You should feel air as well." He said with his eyes closed. "It'll relax your mind."

He was referring to your veil and hijab. "You have the privilege to do that. Dont show off." You smiled.

He opened his eyes and stared at you. "I'm all relaxed now. You can enjoy the privilege now." He wore his turban back and fixed his collar. "Go ahead. I'll keep a look out." He stood up before smiling down at you with... warmth. Kindness.

"Enjoy these moments when you can, Y/n. They're rare."

You watched Ibrahim walk away and true to his word, he turned away from you and kept guard while you cautiously removed your niqaab first, and then loosened your headscarf.

You closed your eyes as the cool air hit you gently. You couldnt help the sigh that escaped you when you felt it on your neck, cooling it. And how long had it been since you felt the air breeze in your hair?

Too long.

After a few more moments in silence, you finally stood up after wearing your hijab and veil and turned to him.

Ibrahim turned around when he felt your presence behind him.

"Feeling better?" You nod. "Significantly. Thank you, pasha."

He gave you a courteous smile with a slight bow of his head.

Ibrahim escorted you back to your room and bid you good night before returning to the balcony.

He sat down on the same bench as the cold wind breezed, and he closed his eyes, your face haunting his mind.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the dark clouds in the sky. A few moments later, it began raining again.

Ibrahim raised his hands to make a prayer, after all- it is said in hadith that supplication made during rain is not rejected.

With sincere intention, he made a silent prayer in his heart.

"Oh Allah, make space in Y/n's heart for me.

I would like to reside eternally in my home country.

Amen."

-

The next two weeks went by... not uneventful. You tried your best to avoid the royals, but with Mihirmah bringing in Mehmed everytime you came to teach her, and Mustafa bringing you more broaches (which Mihirmah took from you everytime) because he thought they suited you (you're pretty sure this is his way of staking his claim on you, there's no way he doesnt know Mihirmah is the one taking them when she openly flaunts them in his face.)

Baris has been as annoying as ever, pestering you for gossip and to tell him "which prince you like more so that he can win the bets".

"So what exactly did you say when sehzade Mehmed said "I love you?" Baris asked as he looked through your closet.

You were looking out the window. "Thank you."

"Thank you? You said "thank you?" God, how dumb are you?" He shook his head while you smiled, looking outside but your mind was somewhere else, somewhere behind in time.

"I love you." He repeated, eyes still twinkling at how you continued to become flustered.

You opened your mouth and then closed it like an idiot, not knowing how to reply.

"Thank you." You finally said, looking anywhere but at him. He burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh god- I tell you- I love you and you say "thank you"? You really are something out of this world!" Baldwin teased you, making you huff.

"Y/n!" Your head whipped around the annoyed eunuch. "What?"

"We have to go to the harem." "Harem? Whatever for?"

"To make you learn a sensual dance for the princes- what do you think?! Its Friday! The sultan and sehzade have gone to the mosque for the Friday prayer- they'll be coming back soon and we have to welcome them." You scowled but followed him outside before halting.

"Both of the sehzade are gone?" Baris nodded.

Oh good. "Baris, you go ahead. I'll join you later." You turned around to leave but he grabbed your forearm.

"Absolutely not! Where are you going? What are you upto?" He gave you a pointed look.

You tried to pull your arm away. "Baris please-"

"No." He tightened his grip. "You might as well tell me because I'm not letting you go alone."

Your shoulders slumped.

"I have to find something." He raised a brow. "Do you remember that room where you found me and sehzade Mustafa? The one where his loot from his last conquest was present?" He nodded.

"Well, I need to go there again." "Why, exactly?" You resisted the urge to inhale as you told him your excuse.

"Because... I have to look for a present for Mustafa."

"What?" His grip on your arm loosened.

You shrugged. "You were right. I like Mustafa and if I plan on marrying him one day, I need to find something to impress him. So if I were to look at his loot, perhaps I'd be able to find what he likes."

Baris studied your face for a few moments before grinning. "I knew you were a just keeping this pious woman charade for personal gain." You frowned at his statement. "Fine. But I'm coming along."

"No, you dont need-"

"I wasnt asking." He began walking ahead of you. "Besides, the loot was moved from that room."

You followed behind him. "Moved where?"

The corner of his lips quirked up. "To sehzade Mustafa's room." He turned to look at your drained expression, and waved you off. "Its fine. I'm with you, arent I? The guards will let us pass through and everyone in the family is busy getting ready to welcome the sultan. No one will catch us."

True to his word, none of the guards or servants stopped you two from entering the Mustafa's wing of the palace. They all seemed to either respect Baris a lot to let you two breeze past them, or they feared him. And knowing Baris and his knowing eyes that probably have dirt on everyone, you knew the latter was true.

"Baris." You stopped him from following you inside Mustafa's room. "You stand here and keep watch. I'll go check."

"Keep watch? What are you- trying to steal his undergarments-" You slapped a hand on his mouth. "Do you ever shut up?" You snapped at his amused eyes. "Stand here and keep watch." You ordered before entering the room.

It was true that you did indeed need Baris to keep a look out for anyone walking in on you, as it has happened way too many times now, but you also needed him out of sight when you got rid of the stupid portrait.

Ah yes, your portrait that Baldwin had so lovingly commissioned and had managed to survive over 400 years and you needed to get rid of before it became a part of history permanently.

You looked around his large room, spotting a cloth covered pile in the corner. You marched to it and lifted the pile, recognising the loot. However, you didnt find your portrait in it.

Where is it?

You turned around to leave, only to freeze at the sight of the person standing there.

Mahidevran sultana.

All the other times you'd been caught, by Suleiman, by Mustafa- you always dropped your head into a courtesy. But now, with Mahidevran standing there with no expression on her face yet the daunting aura coming off her in waves- it had you frozen in spot.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

What do you say when you're caught red handed in a prince's chambers?

Mahidevran took a deep breath.

"Have you stolen it?"

You blinked.

"S-sultana?" Stolen what?

She raised an eyebrow, clasping her hands as she continued to put you under her sharp gaze.

"Have you stolen what you came for? What exactly were you looking for? Mustafa's gold? His jewels?" She tilted her head. "Dont try to deny that you didnt come here for nothing-"

"I did." Your throat went dry as her eyes narrowed. "I did come here for something. But I'm not stealing anything. I... am trying to earn it."

"And what exactly would be that?"

"Sehzade Mustafa's respect." God, where do I come up with such bull-

It was Mahidevran's turn to blink. Earn Mustafa's respect?

"I... dont know if I love the sehzade, but I do admire him. A lot. He has been very kind to me, very civil to me and... he's gifted me a lot. Not just with his expensive jewels, but also with his company. I just thought- I just wanted to return the favour. And I came here to learn more about him- to find out about his likes and dislikes."

At the end of your explanation, a small smile formed on Mahidevran lips.

"Then you should've just come to me." She walked upto you, her eyes much gentler than the hostility they held just moments ago. "Who would know him better than his own mother?"

You could only offer her a courteous smile and nod in agreement.

"Come now. I will teach you everything there is to know about Mustafa. I know him better than I know myself." She beckoned you to follow her, her heart beaming with pride at you finally making a real effort to pursue her son. Soon everything will fall into place, Mustafa will marry you and you'll give him his heirs and Suleiman will make him the next sultan and then finally, Mustafa will kill his brothers and Hurrem's reign will end.

As you walked out of his chambers, you saw Baris smirking and you knew instantly he didnt alert you about Mahidevran's arrival on purpose. He set you up. Just like Isabella, he will betray you every chance he gets.

But... where did the portrait go?

-

"Would you like to go out today?" Mustafa had decided to take you out of the palace, after Mahidevran told him to spend more time with you. He knew taking you out would make you happy, at least you dont seem to be so tense with him. With his father's permission, who was more than happy to accompany Mustafa to his province- Manisa for a few days. After all, you did deserve a short break from teaching his little sister.

And with Mehmet gone on a conquest, it was hard for Mihirmah alone to stop either of you from leaving and spending time together.

You happily agreed, at least this would give you more freedom to explore escape routes and fix your time machine?

Once again in disguises, Mustafa gave you a small tour of his province and you had to admit, he did a fantastic job managing Manisa all by himself. You definitely saw his administrative skills, how he improved the economy and even prepared the province for any future disasters.

After handling some official matters, Mustafa was surprised to see you waiting for him at the stables.

"Would you like to go hunting?" You asked, brushing the horses's mane.

Hunting? As a woman?

"You know how to hunt?"

"No."

"Then...?"

"I may not know how to hunt, but you do. So... shall we?" You asked patting the horse.

Mustafa helped you up on the horse. "Are you sure? Its not season yet, so it'll be hard to find any animals to hunt."

"Who said anything about animals?" You chuckle before galloping away.

It took him a few moments to shake out of the shock to understand your challenge. And then he mounted his horse and sped off after you.

Mustafa had never chased after anyone, much less a woman, but he had to admit- this was fun. And more than that, he was actually surprised at how good you were at riding. Your head leaned down into a straight line with your back, your calculated decisions when to stand and when to sit, you were far ahead of him. And he understood it wasnt your first time on a horse either.

Fortunately for you, you had both practical knowledge of physics and streamlining, as well as hours- DAYS of horseback riding from your time in Jerusalem. Just about four centuries ago?

However, Mustafa was still more skilled in horse riding and after finally catching upto you, he all but brought you to a halt when he blocked your path.

You both stared at each other, heaving and trying to catch your breath before breaking out into a laughter.

Thats how the two spent most of your time, riding and hunting small animals, Mustafa being in his element when he taught you archery, holding you close yet not uncomfortably, as he helped you aim bullseye. And somehow, you would soon hit the bullseye in his heart.

"And then, Qasim took the blame for me!" Mustafa laughed as you told him about your shenanigans from your childhood. You two were having dinner and after spending so much time together, making conversation had become so much easier.

"He took care of you, didnt he?" You nodded, smiling fondly at the mention of Qasim.

"As all elder brothers do, he was the best." Noticing the sadness in your eyes, Mustafa carefully asked you.

"So, you have no family left?" You shake your head. "No, they were all killed by some bad people. I only narrowly escaped them and found refuge with my grandparents before... before the Janissaries came and took me from them. And... here I am now."

Mustafa's heart wrench slightly. He knows the importance of family.

"I could take you to see them." He offered, but his expression turned puzzled when you turned him down.

"I appreciate that but... no. I cant meet them again, it'll be too much for them. The wound is still fresh, Mustafa. And if they were to see me again only to be taken away from them, accompanied by the Janissaries- they wouldnt recover. I wont hurt them again." You whispered the last part, looking off into the distance as you remembered the old couple who helped you.

"Maybe... maybe when we return home, we can go to the market again. Maybe I'll see them there, just from a distance?" Mustafa nodded at your request. How could he say no to such an innocent ask?

"How do you like Manisa?" Mustafa changed the subject.

You nodded in approval. "I had heard about how well you've done here, but when I saw the city... I must say I am very impressed, sehzade."

"You sound surprised. Did you not think I would be a good governor?" He teased as he poured you some tea. You chuckled.

"I am not surprised. I am proud." He froze. "It definitely takes a lot to run a province properly, especially when you have a lot of pressure on you, not just from the sultan but from the very people you're responsible for. And while you have managed the finances as well as put a stop to all revolts, crushed the rebels- all amazing feats, but what really stands out for me is that you've earned the love."

"Love?" "Mmhm. Its very easy to be in a position of power and make people fear you. But its much harder to have their love. And... I'm very pleased to tell you that I have not heard one word, not a single person who had anything except praises for sehzade Mustafa."

"I am very proud of you, Mustafa." You stated, your eyes smiling from your veil.

Mustafa felt as if time had stopped.

I am very proud of you, Mustafa.

Those words, that praise... isnt that what he's yearned for all his life? Sure, Mahidevran may have said those words to him many times, but she's his mother. She always sings his praises.

I am very proud of you, Mustafa.

His father has never said it to him, but he's heard Suleiman say it to Mehmed.

With his younger brother, Mehmed, Mustafa understands that Suleiman may love him just a bit more than him. Truly, Mustafa loves Mehmed too. Its natural for him to feel affection for his younger brother.

But... doesnt he deserve to be praised by his father too? Doesnt he have the right to get a pat on his shoulder for a job well done? Or is it just "his duty as a prince" everytime he works hard? Or is it that no matter what he does, how well he does it, he'll never earn Suleiman's priority over Mehmed because his father loves Hurrem more than Mahidevran? Because of his mother? Still, she is his first wife. And still, he is Suleiman's first born. Doesnt he ever deserve to even delude himself that he has a chance at being the next sultan? At being chosen?

"Mustafa?" Your soft voice breaks him out of his trance.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He tried to smile, his mind still plagued by his previous thoughts.

You point at the box you had place in front of him. "I got you a small present, for all the times I um- lost your brooches." You coughed and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know Mihirmah was the one taking them from you. You dont have to lie to me, Y/n." Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he picked up your box.

You smiled sheepishly. Hey, you're glad that he isnt mad at you for that spoilt brat stealing his gifts off you.

Upon opening the box, Mustafa's grin widened as a small chuckle escaped him.

Its a small crocheted rose, a pin dangling for him to attach it to his collar.

"I know its useless next to your precious jewelled brooches and even though your mom was more than happy to give me some jewels, I wanted to give you something different. You dont have to wear it-"

"Will you place it on me?" Mustafa cut you off. You nodded as you moved closer to him and took the rose from him. "Where should I put it? Turban? Collar? Chest?"

"Wherever it'll be the most prominent." He smiled gently. You leaned closer as you carefully pinned the rose to his chest.

Mustafa held his breath as he stared at your focused eyes, and he doesnt remember the last time he was so attentive to studying someones eyes. He never realised how long your lashes were, or the crease in your eyelid, or the different shades in your eye, or the way his heart skipped a beat when you looked up at him, or the way his heart warmed when your pupils dilated and he was ready to give you the world if you asked for it.

"Perfect." He whispered as you finished placing the rose on him, but his eyes never left yours.

He finally broke out of the trance when you moved away, averting your eyes and he figured he must've been too obvious.

"Thank you." He cleared his throat before looking down at his rose. "How did you learn to... embroidery?" He changed the subject once more.

"This isnt embroidery. Its crochet." You explain to him that you learned it from your mother, which is true. Your mother, who despite having a degree in STEM, had to work as a seamstress when she moved back to your hometown to make ends meet. Only thing you left out was that your mother hated crocheting, and she only did it when she was mad, so anytime you spotted a crocheted sweater or scarf or anything, you knew your mom was having a bad day. It was ironic at how something so cute could come out of such a negative emotion, but perhaps thats what she was trying to teach you. She wanted you to channel out your negative energy into something beautiful and to be honest, crocheting did relax you because of how long it took and how repetitive it was. By the time you were done crocheting, you had processed your emotions and kept yourself in check AND now had an adorable, soft product to play with.

(Deep down you knew she was worried from how many times you had decided to use your brain to come up with elaborate pranks to get back at people. So, as mom would say- "crochet your anger away, Y/n.")

Mustafa smiled at your memories.

"I would like to give you something as well, Y/n. Ask for anything." You tried to refuse but upon his insistence, you finally sighed exaggeratively, as if this wasnt exactly what you wanted.

"Do you remember that portrait? The one in your loot when we first met?"

Mustafa nodded. "I do. But unfortunately, I had given it away to a Roman diplomat as goodwill." He watched your shoulders drop.

"Ask me for something else." He offered again but you waved him off, saying you dont want anything else at the moment.

By the time you two left Manisa, Mustafa had decided that he was going to marry you.

He likes you, he doesnt know if you love him but he does know for sure that you respect. And he respects you.

Respect. Isnt it more important than love? Not all relationships, not all marriages are out of love, Mustafa knows that. But any good marriage can only work if both parties respect each other, if they trust each other.

His father loves Mahidevran, some part of him still does love her despite marrying Hurrem. And he's sure that a small part of him loved every concubine his father slept with, but... not everyone had his respect.

No, Suleiman only loved AND respected Hurrem. He loved Mahidevran, but he didnt respect her. If he did, he wouldnt have humiliated her by marrying Hurrem, a slave, He wouldnt have humiliated her by having five kids with the same woman while neglecting his mother. He wouldnt have humiliated Mustafa by favouring Mehmed over him at every chance.

Mustafa doesnt have Suleiman's respect.

But he has yours. And his mother's. And of the people of Manisa. And that is enough for him.

Thumbing the crocheted rose, he could only hope you dont mind that he lied to you about the portrait. Its in his chambers, here in Manisa. For him to stare at, to clear his mind as he peered into those eyes above the paint smudges, that looked eerily similar to yours.

-

On returning to Constantinople (present day known as Istanbul), Mustafa had allowed you two first stop at the market as per your request of buying some souvenirs for the family, but he knew that was just an excuse for you to see your grandfather.

He watched you spot the old man in the market as you stood by the blacksmith, buying a dagger for Mihirmah despite your eyes being trained on the sad man who was busy buying vegetables. You two were still in disguises, with the guards undercover as well, when there was a commotion.

Your grandfather was being harassed by the same merchant who had given him money and Mustafa would like to think that he interfered because it was his duty as a Muslim and as a sehzade to stop evil, but deep down, he knows he only stepped in to impress you.

Mustafa and a couple of the Janissaries, all disguised as civilians, walked upto the merchant and pushed him off the old man. Before the merchant could start heckling, Mustafa threw a pouch of gold coins and told him that the debt is paid. Period.

He didnt have to say out loud the outcome if he bothered your old man again.

By the time Mustafa returned by your side, standing tall as you looked at him gratefully.

I am proud of you, Mustafa.

"Thank you." You tell him, and Mustafa's heart soars at your validation.

You respect him.

Mustafa looked to the side, the tip of his ears turning pink. "Did you get a present for Mihirmah?"

You nodded, showing him the dagger you bought (with the money Suleiman had been paying you for teaching). He approved it, and you two returned to Topkapi palace, not knowing about the shit storm that was about to come.

-

Mehmet watched from the balcony as you returned to the palace with Mustafa beside you, laughing openly as his elder brother looked at you in a way that he never wanted anyone besides him to look at you.

Mustafa would've liked to walked you to your room but after he was called by his mother, you assured him you'll make it to your room just fine.

What you werent expecting was to find Mehmed standing in the hallway, waiting for you to be alone. He wasnt supposed to return so early from his province, but after Mihirmah wrote to him about you fleeing away with Mustafa to Manisa, he wrapped up his work there and came home straight away. He thought he made it clear what his intentions were with you, but it seems like sweet talking didnt make a dent on you.

"Sehzade-" You stopped your greeting when you saw him march towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back. His body language was not friendly at the moment.

"What were you doing with Mustafa?" He seethed, his arms behind his back as if holding himself back from lashing out.

"I- I went out to get a present for Mihirmah-" You began showing him the dagger but he cut you off.

"Why?"

"Why?" You didnt understand his question. "Why what? I was away in Manisa-"

"Why?"

You frowned this time. What was he asking?

"Because sehzade Mustafa invited me-"

"Why?"

You couldnt help but glare at him annoyed. Why what?

"Because I wanted to get out of the palace-"

"Why?"

"What do you want me to say?" You finally asked. Mehmet glare intensified at your question. "You're clearly accusing me of something, so say it."

"Why did you leave the palace?"

"I told you, I went to Manisa on sehzade's invitation." You paused, trying to piece together the reason for his behaviour. Jealousy? "I couldnt have turned sehzade Mustafa's invitation, it wouldve been rude-"

"This isnt about Mustafa!" He snapped. "You shouldnt have left the palace in the first place!"

"And why not? I'm not a slave who is bound to these walls." You reminded him gently, but his patience seemed to have worn thin.

"And neither is my mother, nor Mihirmah but they still stay here, only leaving when the sultan takes them along."

You looked at him in confusion. What was he getting at?

Mehmed seemed to get even more angry at your bewilderment. "There's a reason women stay in their homes. Its not safe for them out there."

"I appreciate your concern, but I doubt anyone would want to hurt me. I am not a princess or a part of royalty. My status is far too low for anyone to even bat an eye my way-"

He laughed humourlessly. "Status? You think I'm talking about protecting you from enemies of the empire?" Mehmed neared you as you took another step back. "You're in danger from the world. You're in danger from those very men that see you everytime you walk out of these palace walls. You're a walking temptation for these men and their disgusting, vile thoughts."

You blinked at him. Is he- did he just say you tempt men?

"How can I tempt men when I'm covered from head to toe?" You point at your niqaab and your chaddar.

"YOU'RE A WOMAN! THAT ALONE IS TEMPTATION ENOUGH FOR LINGERING EYES!" He yelled as an angry vein pops up in his temple. "It doesnt matter that not an inch of your skin is visible, but the moment these men know that you're a woman, you're meat for them. You attract their attention when you leave the palace walls, you attract their eyes when they see your feminine shadow, you attract their ears when they hear your soft voice, you attract their nose when you pass by them with your sweet scent. Even if they cant see your face, your existence alone is enough to plague their minds!" He points at your niqaab. "This veil that you seem so proud of? That you think protects you from male gaze? It only makes men to want to rip it off you more!"

You're staring at him in utter disbelief. Aint no way- no way this man is accusing you of tempting men, all while insulting your niqaab.

"I dont know what men you're talking about, but you're wrong if you think I'm using my veil, my covered body to invite men to stare at me." Your tone barely suppresses your anger. "I am surprised to hear you say such things. How can you pass such comments when your own mother and sister are-"

"I can pass such comments because my mother and sister stay within the damn palace! They dont go around sauntering like you, provoking men!" He yelled, his arms no longer behind his back, hands balled up into fists.

"Do you hear yourself? You're not making any sense-"

"I AM THE NEXT SULTAN! I AM UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO MAKE SENSE TO YOU!" He spat.

"How can I provoke men when my face is covered?!" You snapped back, reaching your wits.

Hearing your voice get loud, Mehmed's fury reached new levels as he backed you upto the wall, your eyes wide as he closed the distance between you. "You think you're safe?" He whispered harshly, his eyes boring holes into you. His hand reached up and grabbed your niqaab, threatening to yank it off you. "You think this piece of cloth can protect you? What can you- what can you possibly do if I were to rip this off you? Do you think you can stop me from making your worst nightmares come to life?"

Mehmed did not relish the fear in your eyes, nor did he enjoy the tear that escaped them. But like a child who needs admonishing to keep them from harms way, he found it necessary to reprimand you.

"Dont leave the palace again, Y/n." He said, his tone softening but still stern. "I dont want anyone, man or woman to see you. I dont trust anyone around you. Understand?" He patted your cheek to make you nod, and he finally backed away and left you alone in the hall.

Well, you're never truly alone in the palace. Especially when you have enemies. And who is your enemy, Y/n?

Everyone who is envious.

-

Word of your heated moment reached Mahidevran through the servants whispers, about how close you and Mehmed were, how he had pushed you upto the wall, a raunchy scene for anyone to walk in on, how Mehmed had lifted up your veil and traced your skin.

And of course, Mahidevran is inclined to believe these spicy rumors. She's experienced first hand what power hungry women can do when they put their mind to it. And her blood boils at how you're playing both princes, as if Mehmed could ever compete with her precious Mustafa!

Mahidevran all but screams at the maids to bring you to her, her hands shaking at the thought of you cheating on Mustafa- that too just moments earlier Mustafa was telling her how much he liked you and was ready to marry you.

You. You're ruining the plan. The plan to have Mustafa become the next sultan. Because- because you've been put to it by Hurrem, havent you? Isnt that why you're trying to make her son go after you while you pursue Mehmed? You want Mustafa to lose- you want Mahidevran to lose!

When you enter her chambers, Mahidevran all but sees red at the sight of you. You'r thrown to the ground and it doesnt register at first the hard smack she delivered to your face. But as soon as you look up at her, she lunges at you and continues to slap you over and over again, hurling curses at you, calling you all sorts of derogatory names, all while you try to save your face from her assaults because even if you could fight back, you couldnt hurt a sultan's wife.

"HOW CAN YOU CHEAT ON MY MUSTAFA?! MY LION! YOU FUCKING WHORE-!" She shrieked as she continued to slap you, her nails embedding into your skin and scratching it. Your face had gone numb from her slaps, and you couldnt verbalise a response even if you tried, her hands cutting you off everytime you tried to speak, leaving you to just cry and scream.

The guards and servants heard both your cries and Mahidevrans screams, but they didnt dare interfere. How could they? The sultana could easily have their heads chopped off for interrupting her punishment.

Mahidevran's own hands had gone numb from her thrashing, but her anger overtook any sense of self preservation as she continued to beat you to a pulp. Neither of you knows how long it had been until she was pulled off you.

"Mahidevran!" You watched bleary eyed as a red head came into the view. "Have you lost your mind?!" She admonished the queen.

Hurrem turned to look at you, grimacing at your bloodied face.

"Baris." She nodded at him to help you.

Baris immediately picked you up in his arms and carried you out of there.

You watched through tired eyes at Baris's concerned face as he looked down at you.

"Shit- sorry for taking so long to save you." He whispered, watching you slip in and out of consciousness.

You dont remember how, but the next moment you opened your eyes, you were in Hurrem's chambers with Baris tending to your wounds and Hurrem sitting on the ottoman watching you with a steady gaze.

You wince as Baris placed ointment on your busted lip.

"Careful, Baris." Hurrem warned, standing up and walking upto you. "She looks worse enough as it is. We dont need her falling unconscious in front of the sultan because you treated her injuries too harshly. He'll have your head chopped off." She joked though neither you nor Baris laughed; after all her words did hold some truth.

Wait- sultan?

"S-sultan?" You croaked, and Baris quickly helped you drink some water. "Why- why is the sultan coming?"

Hurrem looked at you in confusion. "Why? So that Suleiman could see what Mahideravn did to you and finally get rid of her. After all, Suleiman did warn anyone to not harm you. So, we can finally get rid of that thorn for once and for all." She sighed dreamily before looking at you. "All you have to do is cry in front of him and tell him how cruel Mahidevran is-"

"N-no." Baris's hand that was tending to you scratched cheek halted at your interruption.

"Excuse me?" Hurrem's sharp tone sent shivers down your spine.

"No. I wont say Mahidevran did this to me." In actual history, Mahidevran despite being exiled, outlives Suleiman, Hurrem and all their children. If you were to confess to what Mahidevran did, it would run the risk of Suleiman punishing her to the dungeons or worse, either way putting her life at risk and ruining the timeline.

"But she did do this to you." Hurrem stated, frowning at your attempt at denial. Or was it defense? "Ah, is it because you love Mustafa? You dont want to put his mother in trouble?"

"No. Mahidevran may have hurt me, but sehzade Mehmed was the reason. Your son did this and if you force me to confess, then that is what I will say- Mehmed did this to me." You replied, voice unwavering despite your heart beating loudly against your chest.

"Are you threatening me?" Hurrem glared at your audacity. Baris could sense the impending doom, and he feared you were at the receiving end of it this time.

"No." You swallowed. "I am merely stating at how this will play out. I suggest you dont have the sultan come and see me, better yet- throw me out of this palace altogether."

Hurrem stared at your bruised face and then she saw the determination in your eyes. She shot a look to Baris that had him scurrying you out of the room to give you two privacy.

"Even if you dont rat out Mahidevran, I can."

"You could. And then I will tell the sultan that it didnt happen, and you'll end up looking like a jealous second wife pinning the blame on the first wife." You tell her, watching as her face turned red with fury. "You could always let me go."

"Let you go? Why should I help you leave? And dont try to use Mehmed's behaviour with you as an excuse."

"Behaviour? He ordered me that I dont leave the palace walls ever because he thinks that I seem to invite men to leer at me." You tattled on him. "It may seem hard to believe sultana, but I dont wish to marry any of the princes, nor do I wish to stay within this palace. You know that the only reason I'm still here is because I couldnt say no to the sultan. But if you were to help me escape-"

You were silenced as Mahidevran burst through the door, her eyes zeroing in on Hurrem standing next to you.

"You-! You set me up! Both of you!" She shrieked as she stomped over to you two but Baris walked in with Mustafa, Mehmed and Mihirmah, all looking at the state of your injured face. They all stared at you, but it was Mehmed's eyes that pricked you and you quickly grabbed your veil, tying it around your face to cover it.

Mihirmah rushed to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders. "Y/n! Who did this to you?!"

You didnt bother looking at Hurrem or Mahidevran when you replied.

"I dont know."

Mihirmah's brows knitted together. "You... dont know? It was a blind attack? Did you not see who was attacking you? Or did you just not recognise the attacker?"

You took a deep breath.

"I dont know."

Mehmed stepped forward, eyes narrowing at your answer. "What do you mean-"

He stopped talking when the doors opened again and in walked Suleiman and Ibrahim, the sultan's eyes scanning the room before falling on you.

You had stood up to bow to him and you kept your head down for as long as you could to not draw attention.

But Mihirmah had other plans in mind.

"Dad! Y/n was attacked again! So much worse this time!" She cried, clinging onto your shoulder.

Suleiman's concern grew as he looked you up and down, reading your body language: head down, shoulders tense, hands fumbling.

You were afraid.

"Y/n?" He gently called your name as you hesitantly looked up. Its hard enough to lie to sultan, but lying when you look him dead in the eyes is a whole another thing.

"Show me." He commanded, and you had no choice but to comply, as your slowly removed your veil.

Suleiman's eyes widened at the state of your face- bruised, bloodied and swollen. He walked closer, eyes watching you in disbelief. Who could have done this to you, that too in his palace?

"Who did this to you?"

You averted your eyes, lest they betrayed you. "I- I dont know."

"You didnt see them?" Suleiman was as confused as Mihirmah. "Did they attack you from behind? No- they scarred your face, they attacked you from the front. You should've seen them. Did you recognise them?"

You kept your head down. Shit. What are you supposed to say now?

"Y/n?" You looked up at him. Suleiman saw fear. "Dont be scared. Tell me- who did this to you?"

You swallowed thickly. "I dont know."

"Did you see their face?"

"I- yes." There was no point in lying about it when he already presented logic.

"Then? Who was it?"

"I dont know- I dont remember." You whispered.

Mustafa was trying to make sense of your statement when he glanced at his mother. Mahidevran was shifting on her feet nervously, clasping her hands tightly as she glared at you.

No. No, she couldnt have.

Suleiman's gaze hardened at your words. Who were you protecting? Or did you really not recognise who it was?

"Ibrahim." The vizir stepped forward. "Find out who did this to Y/n." Suleiman ordered as he stood up, turning around to leave when his eyes fell on Mahidevran, who was looking at him with a tight lipped smile.

"Are you alright, Mahidevran?" He asked his first wife, who nodded eagerly.

"Y-yes. Of course, my sultan! I'm just- I'm just worried for Y/n." Suleiman studied her for a few more moments before he turned his attention to Hurrem.

"You did right by informing me about this, Hurrem." He praised his second wife, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "I trust you to take care of Y/n, hm?"

Hurrem bowed her head and feigned a smile. "Of course, Suleiman." However, the sultan spotted her smile faltering and for a second, he saw her glancing at Mahidevran before averting her gaze.

Something was wrong. Suleiman's sixth sense was keeping him unsettled.

He looked at Mahidevran again, this time more closely as he studied her from top to bottom and thats when he saw it-

Her hands hiding under her sleeves.

Suleiman walked to Mahidevran and before anyone could react, he grabbed her hands and pulled.

Mahidevran's knuckles were bruised, her nails stained with your blood, her palms red.

"You did this to her?" He asked in disbelief. His Mahidevran? He knew she was a little unhinged at times, lost control of her emotions but... was she really capable of such violence?

"Suleiman I- she-"

"You're not denying." His grip tightened around her hands. "Mahidevran, have you lost your mind?!"

"Suleiman-"

"SILENCE!" He pushed her away, eyes blown wide in rage. Mahidevran trembled at the sight. "Have you completely lost it?! Why would you do this to her?! She's just a child! What is wrong with you?!"

Mahidevran fell to her knees, begging him for forgiveness. "Suleiman, I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? You're sorry?! LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO HER!" He pointed at your face. "Why did you do this? What could she have possibly done to you to deserve this?"

"Suleiman, I only-" She stopped. What reason could she give? She cant tell him about you cheating on Mustafa with Mehmed, nor would it do her any good to pin the blame on Hurrem now. It would only weaken her position and cause Mustafa trouble.

Mustafa. She has to do this for him, to save his throne.

She mustered up all her courage, casting her ego aside as she looked at you.

"I'm sorry, Y/n."

Your heart dropped. No. Mahidevran just admitted to her crime. Suleiman will punish her. She will die- no, no no-

"Its okay, sultana. It was an accident." Everyone was looking at you now.

"An accident?" Mihirmah asked.

You nodded. "I- I entered her chambers while she was asleep. I startled the sultana, she thought I was an intruder- that I came to attack her. The room was dark- she couldnt have recognised me- it was all an accident."

Everyone knew it was big fat lie, but then again, no one was willing to refute your claims. On what grounds? With no proof, they were all inclined to take your word, even if they didnt believe it.

Suleiman looked back at Mahidevran. "You still didnt have any right to beat her that badly. You've truly lost it, Mahidevran. If you werent Mustafa's mother, I would've-" He took a breath to calm himself down. "You cant stay here anymore. I exile you to Manisa." And with that Suleiman walked out of the room.

-

Mustafa had left your room to see off his mother. He came to you after to thank you for trying to cover for Mahidevran, despite his father still banishing her.

Then again, exile was the least painful punishment for what she did to you.

He held his mother's hands as the servants packed her belongings. He wanted to go to Manisa with her, but she refused to let him accompany her.

"You must stay here, Mustafa." She cupped his cheek. "You need to protect Y/n. All this time, I thought she was cheating on you but Hurrem set her and me up. She wanted this to happen, for me to hurt Y/n! You must stay here and protect Y/n from Hurrem and Mehmed. Do you understand?" Mahidevran's habit of blaming everyone but herself for her actions prevailed over logic as usual.

He nodded, kissing the palm of her hand. "The next time we meet, I will bring her to you as my wife."

A bright smile graced her face as she quickly took off her own ring and gave it to him.

"I will pray for you, my lion." She kissed his forehead. Mustafa smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

"Dont worry about Mehmed, hm? He wont be a hurdle." She whispered to him.

Mustafa didnt understand what she meant about Mehmed, his own mind occupied by you. He saw how angry his father was when it came to you, almost as protective as he was of Mihirmah, how quick he was to have his mother- a queen on her knees, for you. He knew his dad never respected Mahidevran, but his actions were also ruled over by his concern for you.

Mustafa now understands how dire the situation is. He now understands why his mother wanted him to marry you. You- you are the key to having the throne, the key to ruling the empire, the key to everything.

-

While Hurrem was busy "calming" Suleiman down, which in fact was really just her getting praised for being a good wife, queen and most importantly now- "a mother figure to Y/n", for how quickly she took action and saved you from Mahidevran, how she tended to your wounds and brought you to her chambers rather than "risking Mahidevran attacking you by leaving you in the infirmary", her eldest was in your room.

Baris had just helped you sit on the sofa and was tending to your wounds when Mehmed, the sehzade who had just moments ago seen Mustafa leave your room, had his blood boiling at the sight of your face uncovered as Baris applied healing balms to your wounds.

"Get out." He ordered Baris, who looked at you before leaving the room.

Mehmed sat down beside you, picking up the healing balm and was about to apply it to your skin when you turned your face away.

"I can do it myself, sehzade-"

"Mehmed." He corrected you before turning your face to him harshly. "If you can do it yourself, then why let Baris do it? Do you enjoy his touch?" His tone was accusatory and full of jealousy, and you were getting real tired of it.

"I'm sorry, I was far too disoriented to notice it was a man who was tending to my wounds." Your sarcasm made his eyes narrow at you, as he continued to apply the ointment.

"Baris is not a man, he's a eunuch." And yet he's jealous of him. "And its not about a man touching you, i dont want anyone touching my wife-to-be."

"I dont remember agreeing to a proposal-"

"Then let me refresh your memory." He cut you off. "When I said "I love you", I meant we were to be married. As for a proposal, there never was one and there never will be one because I am a sehzade, and the next sultan. You dont get to say no to me. Do I make myself clear?"

If you had the means to get out of this era, you would've slapped the egoistical, chauvinistic, toxic man in front of you.

"Yes." You replied.

Mehmed stood up, but before he left, he looked at your veil.

"If you have to remove your veil to let your injuries heal, you better make sure you're alone."

Asshole.

-

A few weeks later, you were once again standing in the harem with the rest of the royals. Today, the sultan had to leave to go on a conquest. Ibrahim was also leaving, which unnerved you because you dont want to stay in a place without the only sane person who had your back.

Sure, Baris saved you but you knew better than to trust that piece of shit because his loyalty could be easily bought. Just like how you knew Hurrem did indeed was paying him to follow you, let you get beat up, and then fetch her to be your "saviour". And you knew that the only reason Baris would help you ever again, was because he had his own agenda on being your personal servant if you were to marry one of the princes.

Suleiman and Ibrahim entered the harem, ready to receive farewell from his family.

Hurrem was the first in line, kissing his hand and then him, before Suleiman pulled her in his embrace.

"I trust you to take care of the palace in my absence." He said to her, patting her cheek affectionately.

"Of course. I pray for your victory, Suleiman. May Allah sharpen your sword and defeat the enemy." She wished him well.

Suleiman then went down the queue, hugging his sons, daughters, favourite women of the harem, and then you.

"You will be safe here, Y/n." He watched you kiss his ring before bringing his hand to your forehead. With your head bowed, he kissed your the top of your head. "When I return, I have something important I'd like to discuss with you."

Your heart dropped. Discuss something important? Like what?

"Your marriage to his son, girl!" You heard Baris's voice in the back of your head.

Ibrahim only hugged Suleiman's sons, the royal women offering him words of support and prayers. When he reached you, you gave him a quick courtesy and a small prayer, but your eyes- they screamed for help.

Ibrahim! Dont leave me!

And Ibrahim got your message, but with everyone watching, he could do nothing but nod and move on.

As soon Suleiman left with his troops, you quickly made your way to return to your chambers to hide away until they returned. After your incident with Mahidevran, you had taken some precautions from being mauled again because really- who can you trust around here?

Mihirmah would come to your room to get her lessons, which now with her father gone, you doubt she will come to get them. Fine by you really, she's still a brat who finds glee in flipping you over your back.

Mehmed was much harder to avoid, he insisted on having lunch with you (because Hurrem wanted all her kids together with her at dinner). And these lunches were quiet stiff, because Mehmed may not be threatening you or showing off his jealousy, you still havent forgotten his remarks and you didnt really talk besides giving him curt replies, which he doesnt notice because his head is so far up his-

Mustafa was the normal one among them, and while he did offer you to take you out to the market or even the gardens, you didnt. Not because you were scared of Mehmed finding out, no. It was because- well, what happened to Mahidevran. Mustafa may have come to you and thanked you for trying to cover up for her, but no matter what way you see it- his mother was thrown out of the palace because of you.

And he has to hold some grudge against you for it. No matter how much he smiles, how many gifts he gives you, you just cannot risk him taking you the gardens or the market where there are no witnesses when "someone" ambushes you.

You've used most of your time holed up in your room with your time machine because the last time you went out with Mustafa to the market, you were able to get some tools and metals from the blacksmith while Mustafa was busy saving your "grandfather".

-

Its been 2 weeks since Suleiman left. Two weeks since you've been on high alert around this mad house, two weeks since you started losing sleep from all the stress and tension of being around Mehmed and Mustafa. Sure, Ibrahim gave you a entourage of maids and guards to keep you safe before he left, but how could that put you at ease when your entourage could fall with the flick of the wrist from these royals.

You've been able to repair your time machine as much as you could, but it still hasnt worked. You dont understand what you need to do, you've even tried smashing it against the ground like the last time you transported, but no. It didnt help.

You sat on the bench on the balcony, the same one when Ibrahim was here with you. You came here to get some fresh air, and you hoped Baris doesnt run into you because you just have it in you to hear him make a comment about the bags under your eyes.

The sky was filled with dark clouds again, the wind chilly and you smiled under your veil.

It was going to rain today.

Your mind flashed back to the last time you were here with Ibrahim. Just like now, you were worried and tense then. But he was there to calm you down, to put your mind to ease.

"You should feel air as well." He said with his eyes closed. "It'll relax your mind."

You closed your eyes as his voice came to mind.

"Enjoy these moments when you can, Y/n. They're rare."

You glanced behind you, at your entourage. The guards had their back to you, looking away from you and the maids. The maids all stood behind you, giving you space. They could see your stress.

A gentle breeze hit your face, and it was enough to push you.

You quietly removed your veil, setting it beside you before loosening up your headscarf.

A sigh escaped your lips as the gentle breeze cooled your neck, your tense shoulders dropping at the earthy scent of rain. You closed your eyes, trying to imagine yourself back in your time, back when you were a child, carefree and stress-free.

Home. I want to go home.

"Y/N!" Your respite was cut short by Mehmed's angry scream, who looked at you like he'd just witnessed the greatest crime you could ever commit: sitting unveiled, with part of your hair exposed along with your neck.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You quickly grabbed your niqaab and tied it around your head as you saw storm towards you, his guards following behind him.

"Mehmed- I-"

"You what?! You were sitting here EXPOSED! With the servants to watch!" He yelled at you, grabbing your arm painfully as he yanked you from your seat. "Didnt I explicitly tell you to fucking stay covered! Do you like putting on a show for-"

"ENOUGH!" Something in you snapped. "I wont have you accuse me over and over again! I was not putting on a show, Mehmed! I was just getting some air! Do I not deserve it?! As for putting on a show- the guards had their backs turned, they werent staring at me! Only the maids were behind me, and they too werent able to see my face! Now, let go!"

Mehmed's grip on your arm only tightened, and you almost yelped in pain if you werent so busy glaring at him. "Just because you think they didnt see you face, doesnt mean its alright for you to sit naked!" He yanked you closer as he bared his teeth at you. "I told you not to to ever remove your niqaab in front of others. You disobeyed me- my command! And now you will pay the price! As will they!" He yelled at his guards to arrest you entire entourage and throw them to the dungeons.

"Mehmed, stop-" "Shut up!" He yelled as he began dragging you away and towards his own room, throwing you inside.

He stalked towards you. "Since you seem to have no sense of preservation for your modesty, I suppose I will have to help you out as your husband-to-be. You will stay here until I return and if you try to escape, I swear to God, Y/n! I will fucking break your legs!"

You watched in horror as he left the room, locking it from outside and you dont doubt he had guards outside not to let anyone in or out.

I cant stay here any longer- I cant rely on Ibrahim any longer. Mehmed has fucking lost it, and I need to get out of here right now.

You fumble out your time machine, trying to turn it on to any time period really- you cant stay here anymore.

"Fuck!" You throw it against the wall, crying into your hands out of frustration. Why the fuck wont it work? A few moments later, you finally pick it up, pocketing it back in your clothes.

Hours passes by as you sat on the floor, crying at your demise, waiting for Mehmed to return and do whatever his insane self pleases.

The room had darkened, and you suspected it was night now. You look down and find the bracelet on your hand, the one Suleiman gave you and an idea popped in your head.

Bribery.

You knocked at the door.

"Hello? Whoever is out there- please- just open the door! I'll give you my jewels! Anything you need, I'm willing to pay!" You plead for a few minutes before slamming your hands against the wood, falling to your knees as you sobbed. "Please! I'm begging you! Help me-!" You stumbled back as the doors swung open.

"Well, if this is how quickly you resort to going on your knees, I have failed as a teacher." Baris grinned at you from above.

"B-baris?" You sniffled as he helped you stand up. "What are you-"

"I'm saving your ass. Duh." He pulled you out of the room, looking out both ways before taking the path on the left. You spot two guards lying on the ground.

"How did you-" You point at the them but he drags you along.

"I'm not just a pretty face, Y/n. You seriously underestimate me." He comments, his eyes scanning for anymore people. "Now we must make haste. Otherwise, your lover boy may take a break from the dungeons to torture us instead-" He stopped talking when he looked at you.

"Torture? Baris, what did Mehmed do to them?" Your entourage was thrown into the dungeons. Baris avoided your eyes. "Baris." You insisted.

"He's having their eyes stitched up for staring at you."

You face paled. Mehmed is insane. He's fucking insane. Baris took your hand and dragged your shellshocked body.

The two of you soon made it out of the palace undetected. 4 horses and 5 women waited for you two there. You recognised them- they were from the harem.

"Baris, what are you- why are they here?" You whispered harshly. If the palace finds out there are concubines missing, it'll only cause more trouble for you and him.

"Relax, they're here to help us." He waves at them, making them giggle before he looks back at you. "We will all get on the horses and take different paths to throw the Janissaries off long enough for you to escape."

"Escape to where?"

"Wherever you want to go. I would suggest going West and leaving the empire altogether, maybe go to the Romans. Keep a low profile and try not to seduce any more unhinged men." He pokes fun at you, despite the situation you're in.

You chuckle, tears of gratefulness in your eyes. "Thank you, Baris." You sniffle, taking off your bracelet. "Here. You can have this. Its the least I can do-"

"Girl, you need it more than I do." Baris pushes the bracelet back to you. "Besides, I've already been compensated generously."

"By who?" You ask and he gives you a knowing look. "Ibrahim?" He nods.

"He had been paying me since the moment you set foot in the palace to keep you safe. You think I just stuck around you because I like you so much?" You slapped his shoulder, making him laugh. "Okay, you werent all that bad. But wherever you go, I'm sure Ibrahim pasha will find you."

"And why is that?"

"Well, he was going to marry you." "What?" Baris looked at you confused. "You dont know? Ibrahim pasha talked to Sultan Suleiman about this. The sultan gave his blessing, but he wanted to ask for your consent as well. But then they went to war-"

So thats what Suleiman wanted to discuss with you.

"Anyways, Ibrahim pasha had given me permission to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe, even if it meant taking you out of the palace- or- well staging your kidnapping. When the time comes, Ibrahim pasha will find you and I will be long gone by then." Baris explained.

"You're willing to leave the palace behind? For me? I thought you liked it here." You were touched at his willingness to help you, even if he was taking money.

Baris shrugged, looking at Topkapi palace longingly. "I've had my fun here. Its time for me to go somewhere else. Have a fresh start, where I'm no longer a slave."

You smiled, nodding understandingly. "And them? Are they willing to risk it all for me as well?"

"Oh no. They're in love with me. And when they heard I was leaving, they decided to come along. Just cant get enough of me." You shot him a look. "We might start a brothel. You should come visit with Ibrahim pasha someday."

"Why the fuck would I go to a brothel-" He broke into laughter at your reaction.

"I'm just joking! But do visit me, hm?" He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. He helped you up on the horse before mounting his with a girl behind him, the others mounting the other horses.

"Thank you, Baris. For everything." Baris gave you a nod. You suddenly heard yells from behind you.

"Time to go!" Baris yelled.

-

You were galloping through the woods, the same forrest where you had first landed here. It was raining dogs and cats, making it hard for you to see ahead of you and even harder for the horse to run through the wet ground.

Your mind wandered back to Ibrahim. All this time, you thought he'd abandoned you and yet he was the one who had your back.

Was he really going to marry you?

You doubt he would've. Or even if he did, the question was- would you have said yes?

Maybe. He is the sane one of the ottomans, and apparently the only one who is willing to help you. You're sure he wouldnt have done anything unbecoming of a man even if you married him. And why would you not marry him? It buys you time to work on your machine and get out of this era, AND it protects you from the royals, especially Mehmed.

Mehmed. Your heart wrenched at the thought of him punishing those poor servants. Did he really have their eyes stitched up? What would he have done to you on returning? More importantly, what would he have done if he caught you escaping.

"I'll break your fucking legs!"

You shuddered at his threat, leaning down to speed through the woods.

Maybe God finally cut you a break- how else could you explain all this? Baris being the one to break you out, despite you being sure he'd betray you the first chance he gets. Ibrahim pasha having your back all this time. You escaping the palace without the Janissaries or anyone hot on your tail. Maybe your time machine will finally work too. Maybe you'll finally make it out of here. Maybe you just lucked out-

You heard the clouds above you roar loudly and in the next moment, you heard yourself scream as you were blinded by a white flash, throwing you off your horse.

You laid on the ground, pain radiating throughout your body, vision blurry, palpitations in your ear as you tried to make sense of what had happened.

A lightening strike.

You were struck by lightening.

If you werent in so much pain, rapidly losing consciousness, you wouldve laughed at your fortune.

Lucked out?

More like out of luck.

-

Mustafa had walked in on Mehmed screaming and threatening to kill every servant, his sword bloody. Looking behind his younger brother, he spotted two headless guards.

"Mehmed?" He asked cautiously.

"She escaped! She fucking ran!" Mehmed yelled before he could ask what was wrong. He raised his sword to cut off yet another head, but Mustafa stopped him.

"Tell me what happened." Mustafa's strong voice had Mehmed reeling some of his anger back, explaining what had happened.

After listening to him, Mustafa sighed. "We'll find her, Mehmed. Calm down." He looked at his Janissaries and ordered them to close off the city, and the docks. No one leaves.

"She could've already left the city-"

"Its unlikely for her to have managed to do that, that too when its pouring heavily." Mustafa, the cool headed prince, began to think logically.

"Then where is she? The city is still too big! It'd be like finding needle in a haystack." Mehmed sneered, glaring at the servants.

Mustafa closed his eyes, trying to think of where you could possibly ran off to.

He snapped his eyes open. Of course, you'd be there.

"I know where she is." He stood up, Mehmed following behind him.

-

You woke up to someone wiping your cheek. It took a few moments for your vision to clear, your eyes looking around what seemed to be a cottage before landing on the person beside you.

Old lady.

It was the old lady. The one who saved you when you dropped at her doorstep when you entered this era.

"Oh dear, you're finally awake!" She smiled gently, continuing to wipe the mud off your cheek. "You're lucky my husband was out when he spotted you unconscious. You could've drowned in that rain, you know?" She said in a chiding town, as if you chose to lie down in the pouring rain.

The old man walked out of the kitchen with a cup of hot tea in his hands.

"Here you go, hun. Drink this." He handed you the cup before sitting beside his wife.

"Now, where've you been all this time?"

By the time you were finished telling them everything that happened to you, from being kidnapped by the Janissaries to be sold as a slave, to almost dying a few times in the palace, to being set up to marry one of the two princes, to being struck with lightening, the old lady was in tears as she pulled you into her embrace while the old man continued to yell a stream of curses at the Ottomans.

When you tried to leave, they stopped you- telling you its absolutely unsafe for you to go anywhere in this bad weather. And well, hearing the heavy rain and the fact that you were indeed struck by lightening, you couldnt really argue.

"Okay, just for tonight."

While you were having dinner, you were taken back to your memories- memories of your own family. Sure, you were surrounded by family at the palace as well, but they didnt feel like home. They didnt really care for you, not like this cute old couple does. And to be honest, you missed this feeling. From your time in Jerusalem, to your time in the palace, this is the first moment of normalcy you've had in a while.

You looked at them, smiling as they made silly jokes and ate food. They included you in their conversations, they fed you, they made sure you were comfortable when you slept in the guest room- or what you assumed was their daughter's room.

You didnt tell them, you couldnt but you did try finding out what happened to her. Baris told you what did.

Naima. That was their daughter's name.

Naima was brought to the palace by the Janissaries as a concubine, and only a few weeks in- she was chosen to sleep with the sultan.

She killed herself the next day. She had jumped off the roof, but she didnt die instantly. She died as Hurrem watched from her balcony, and she refused to alert anyone to help the poor woman.

You didnt want to take this last bit of hope from the couple- the hope that Naima may still be alive and will come home one day.

-

You were woken up to someone banging on the door.

"BY THE ORDER OF SEHZADE MUSTAFA! OPEN THE DOOR!" Someone yelled from outside. The old man sprung to his feet as he peered through the window.

Janissaries. A whole troop of them and in the very front, sitting on top of their horses were Mustafa and Mehmed.

"Get her out of here." The old man told his wife, who hurried you out of bed and was about to leave through the back door when she saw the Janissaries out there as well.

"Come on." She dragged you up the stairs to the roof, just as you heard the door being broken down and yelling.

Reaching the roof, you looked down only to see the cottage was surrounded by the guards.

"We're surrounded." You whispered. "There is no escape."

"There is." The old lady whispered back to you, ushering you towards the edge of the roof. "Jump."

You looked at her. "What?"

"I wont let them take you back there. Jump, Y/n." She pushed you towards the edge.

"No- I'm not jumping!" You tried to back away but she gripped your arm.

"You have to, Y/n! I wont let them- I wont let any man take advantage of you! I wont let them do to you what they did to my Naima!" She cried, pushing you towards the ledge again, but you resisted against her, causing you to fall onto the ground.

"I'm doing this to save you!" She cried again, straddling you as she wrapped her hands around your throat. "Why wont you understand-"

"STOP!" A voice yelled. You both looked to the side to find Mustafa and Mehmed, the latter holding the old man.

Mustafa raised a hand in surrender. "Let her go. And we wont hurt your husband."

The old lady looked conflicted, as she looked at Mustafa and then at Mehmed who held a sword at the old man's neck, ready to slice it.

"I- I-" She continued to hold your throat as you struggled to breathe.

For a brief moment, the couple made eye contact and the old man smiled at her reassuringly.

"Do it. Save Y/n." He told her, but before anyone could react, Mehmed sliced off the man's head, Mustafa looking at his younger brother in shock as the woman shrieked before she began choking you hard.

With lightening speed, Mustafa pulled her off you and pushed her to the side.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" He crouched beside you, checking on you as you took huge gulps of air before nodding. Mustafa sighed in relief as he helped you stand up, only to turn around to find Mehmed holding the woman over the edge.

"Mehmed, dont!" He yelled, but it was too late. Mehmed kicked her in the back and the old lady fell to the ground. Mustafa left your side to look over the edge, eyes wide as he saw the woman hadnt died. Blood sputtered out of her mouth as she stared up with eyes blown wide.

And then, a sword fell on her neck straight down, finally killing her.

He looked to his side only to find Mehmed looking down disinterested, as if he hadnt just brutally murdered an old woman.

His younger brother.

A monster.

He watched Mehmed whisper threats to you as he dragged you back outside, practically throwing you over his horse. Mustafa let him take you- he wasnt going to fight who gets to ride with you when they were all going home.

Except... not.

Mustafa's brows furrowed in confusion as he watched Mehmed and his Janissaries take a turn and go a completely different path then the one to the Topkapi palace.

Where was he taking you?

Mustafa sped after Mehmed, his troops following behind as he yelled at Mehmed to stop.

But he didnt, not until an abandoned palace came to view.

Mehmed got off his horse, pulling you down before nodding at his men to take you inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mustafa asked as he got off his own horse, marching towards you but Mehmed blocked his path.

"What I should've done in the first place- duel."

Mustafa looked at him in disbelief. Duel? "You want to fight me? Have you truly lost it?!"

Mehmed got up in his face. "I've seen the way you look at her. I am not going to stand for it any longer."

"Mehmed-"

"Only one of us can have her, Mustafa. This ends today." Mehmed pushed him as he drew his sword.

Mustafa lips settled into a thin line.

"Fine." He pulled out his sword. "May the better prince win."

-

"Let go of me!" You try pulling yourself free from the guards grasps, but they continue to haul you inside the abandoned castle.

"I said- let go-!"

"Oh good, you're finally here!"

Mihirmah stood in front of you with a grin.

"Mihirmah? What are you doing here?"

She raised a brow. "What am I doing here? I'm here to prepare you!"

"Prepare me?"

"Mmhm! For your wedding to Mehmed!"

"What?"

She shrugged, taking you by the arm as she pulled you inside a room. "Well, when I found out you had run away, I suggested to Mehmed that the only way to make sure you stay by his side is for him to marry you. And I knew my mom would've stopped him from doing that, so I suggested he bring you here! By the time dad returns, you'd already be married to Mehmed and dad will definitely choose him to be the next sultan! Its only a cherry on top that Mustafa came here as well, and when Mehmed kills him- dad will have no choice but to choose Mehmed as his heir!"

You watched in disbelief before trying to make a run for it, but she anticipated it, snapping her fingers for the guards to lock the doors.

"Now, I will send the maids inside to get you ready. I need to go check on the sheikh who has to marry you two off." She smiled before leaving you alone.

She could care less about the sheikh, right now- she wanted a seat upfront to the showdown! Mehmed was going to win and she needed to be there to witness it.

-

Mustafa dodged Mehmed's attack again. Despite agreeing to the duel earlier, Mustafa had been taking on the defensive. Mehmed was his younger brother, he was still family even if he incredibly insane.

He cant bring himself to hurt him-

"Why arent you fighting?" Mehmed growled as he swiped at him again. "Are you that afraid of dying? Fight me like a man!"

"I dont want to fight you at all." Mustafa jumped back as he striked again. "You're my brother-"

"Like hell we are! One way or another, I'm killing you Mustafa! Be it today, or tomorrow when I'm finally sultan, because you know your mother screwed up any chance you had to be chosen! She fucked up and now you will pay for it!" Mehmed yelled, finally hitting a nerve with Mustafa.

My mother. They dont respect her.

Mustafa raised his sword as he struck over and over again, Mehmed barely able to escape the blade as it sliced his skin many times.

My own brother wants to kill me. And if I die, then so will my mother,

Mehmed groaned as Mustafa suddenly sliced the skin on his arm, the younger prince rolling onto the ground to avoid getting his arm cut off clean. But Mustafa was faster, kicking him in the stomach as Mehmed dropped onto the ground in pain.

"I am the better son." Mustafa said with a kick to his stomach.

"I am the better ruler." Another kick.

"I am the better choice." Another kick.

"I am better than you. In every way." Mustafa raised his sword to drop it on Mehmed's neck, just as cruelly he had done to that old woman.

Mehmed raised his hand in surrender as he coughed up blood.

"Please, Mustafa- d-dont. I'm your brother!" Mehmed begged for his life.

And in that moment, Mustafa saw his younger brother, the small child he promised to always protect.

Mustafa closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before stepping away.

"I. Win." He stated, turning around to leave. He was the bigger man. Once again, his mercy overtook his- no his love for his brother overtook his logic. He knows Mehmed wont back down, he will fight with him again. But that will be for another day-

"M-Mustafa." He looked back at him, his heart dropping at the sight.

Mehmed was coughing up blood, his face looked pale- and then he puked.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

And the moment his mouth started foaming, Mustafa remembered his mother's words.

"Dont worry about Mehmed, hm? He wont be a hurdle."

Mahidevran may have been exiled, but she still had a few people loyal to her. People who wanted Mustafa as the next sultan, not any of Hurrem's sons. People who more than willingly began microdosing Mehmed with poison.

-

You were trying to break a window to escape when the doors swung open. Mihirmah had returned, tears running down her cheeks.

"Mihirmah-" She hugged you before you could beg her to let you go.

"You look beautiful." She whispered as she pulled back, admiring the maid's work. "Mehmed always did adore the color red on you." She said in a trance.

"Mihirmah, please let me go." You plead and she gives you a broken smile.

"Thats what I came here to do." She whisperd, cupping your cheek. "I'm letting you go, Y/n. Mehmed's dead."

Oh. Thats why she's crying. But with Mehmed dead, you get to leave.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said, watching her stumble back towards the door.

"I'm going to miss you, Y/n." She nodded, grabbing the fire torch off the wall. "Tell Mehmed I love him."

What?

Mihirmah dropped the torch onto the ground, setting the wooden floor ablaze instantly.

"Mihirmah-!" She left the room, closing the doors before you could make your escape.

"Mihirmah! Open the door!" You slammed your fists as the room began catching on fire.

Mihirmah locked the door from outside, wiping her tears away as she walked away.

You are Mehmed's bride. You belong to him, in life and now... in death.

Goodbye Mehmed. She closed her eyes. You wont be alone now.

She watched from the balcony as the Janissaries- her and Mehmed's troops, cornered Mustafa and pushed him to the ground like an animal for slaughter.

The guard looked at her.

She gave a nod.

The next moment, Mustafa's head was chopped off.

-

Fucking Mihirmah!

You slammed your fists against the door one last time before falling down to the ground, fire spreading around the room.

Fire. Why the fuck does it always have to be fire? Why is everyone so hell bent upon burning you to crisp? First in the desert with Salauddin, then those concubines in the harem, now this. If you didnt have a phobia before, you sure do have one now!

You pulled out your time machine hopelessly. Piece of crap wont even turn on-

Its on.

Your eyes widened at the screen illuminating.

Its working.

But how-

The lightning strike! It mustve charged it! That or maybe it could sense every single time you're near death and decides to fucking work.

"Oh fuck!" You curse as flames begin to close in on you. Now is not the time.

With trembling hands you try to change the date and location, but the screen is still broken and it wont budge.

You groan in frustration as you slam the button, your surrounding blurring as you begin to travel. Whatever time you land in, it'll be better than the one where you almost burn to death.

Right?

So, thoughts?? How did you like this chapter? What will happen next?

I also sorta blacked out a few times while editing this chapter, so ignore any mistakes.

PART 11 is here!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stitched Together

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so... ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn't seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky's nurse whenever he gets hurt.

A/N: Based off my mini fic here.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You were used to it by now. In the morning, you'd go into work at the hospital. The pediatrics unit was filled with light and color. You made sure to bring as much joy and light into the lives of the children you helped every day. Then when you came home, you'd do work for the darker side of life.

Bucky Barnes was born for this life. Being the first born son of George Barnes, the position of head of the Barnes Family was immediately his.

But growing up he didn't act like that life was for him. You would know since you two knew each other since you were thirteen. You grew up in the same neighborhood. It wasn't until you turned sixteen that you started dating. You knew who his father was, your own dad knew who his family was. As a detective, he told you time and time again that you needed to stay away from him. Being a hormonal and rebellious teenager, you never listened. You should've.

At eighteen years old was when Bucky killed for the first time. Because he was now a man, his father put him up in a cage fight with another man. It was kill or be killed.

He wasn't the same after. He began to push you away, keep things from you, act like a complete asshole.

Then enough was enough. You broke up with him and even though he hurt you, you never told your father the things Bucky told you. Especially after your father became the chief of police.

You two were ignorant with the roles you had to play in your youth, but reality hit you right when you became adults. You became the dutiful daughter of the chief of police, went to university to become a nurse. You stopped keeping track of Bucky's life, but would hear updates along the grapevine every once in a while.

You were there when George Barnes passed. Well, not necessarily in the room, but you were at the hospital when he passed. You were coming up from your break when you saw Bucky at the elevators. He looked upset.

"Bucky?"

He turned at the sound of his name, "Sw-Y/N. Hey."

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, my dad. He-He had a heart attack. I'm-He-" you could see how distressed he was, so you pulled him in for a hug.

"Whatever happens, you'll be okay," you whispered in his ear.

He fell limp in your arms. You didn't know it then, but Bucky missed you like crazy and being in your arms again that night saved him from spiraling.

It's later that night that George Barnes dies. After everything he's done and been through, a heart attack was what killed him.

Karma, is what your dad said.

Despite the position George Barnes held, he was well-loved around the city due to him caring for the community. The streets were filled during the procession, your dad and his men keeping an eye out in case anything happened. You were also there for the funeral. You caught glimpse of Bucky and you couldn't breathe for a moment. He was clearly tired and you couldn't blame him, considering how things have been going for him lately.

Despite your father warning you to not make contact with him, you felt like you should.

"I'm sorry, again for your loss, Buck."

He gives you a tired smile, "Thank you again for showing up, Y/N. I-I know your dad probably didn't want you to come."

"He doesn't control every aspect of my life."

"Still. I really appreciate you being here."

"Of course. It's always hard when you lose someone you love." You would know since you lost your mother when you were young.

"Bucky," Sam, Bucky's right hand, calls his name and urges him to follow him.

"I gotta-"

"It's okay. Hope things aren't too stressful for you."

"Thank you. I'll see you around," he says as he departs. You didn't know just how soon you'd end up seeing him.

Three days later, to be exact.

It was late at night when there was a knock at your door. You hold your knife close as you peer through the peep hole of your door. Your eyes widen when you immediately pull the door open.

"Holy shit!" you whisper loudly as Sam drags a bleeding Bucky into your home.

"He didn't want to go to the hospital since we don't know whose people might be working there. So he told me to bring him here."

You guide Sam to your couch where Bucky slumps onto it, "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know who else to trust right now." You turn on all the nights in your apartment and get a look at him. There's a stab wound in his shoulder. It looks like the bleeding slowed though.

You help Bucky out of his jacket and shirt. You apologize profusely for the pain he's going through.

He dryly chuckles, "You know, when I dreamt about you stripping me, I didn't think it'd be in this context."

You pause and look at him, "You dream about me?"

"You haunt my mind, Y/N." He must be delusional due to the blood loss. Before his father's passing, you hadn't seen nor spoke to him in years. There's no way he'd still be thinking about you after all this time, right?

"I'll be back. I need to grab my first aid kit." You rush to your bathroom and grab the small duffle of all your first aid necessities.

You also grab a bottle of vodka and hand it to Bucky, "Drink up, buttercup."

He frowns and looks at the bottle, "Thought you hated vodka."

"It's not my bottle. America left it from a party I held here," you mumble as you pull on some gloves and begin to clean around his wound. You work in silence as Bucky takes swigs from the bottle. Sam watches from the corner of the room, staying out of your way.

While you work, Bucky takes in your apartment. He takes in the pictures, the decor, the trinkets you have around. This is exactly how he'd imagine your place to be.

"Hey, still with me?" you ask as you begin to thread your needle.

"Yup."

"Okay. This might hurt-"

"Probably not as much as getting stabbed."

You can't help but snort a laugh as you get ready to start stitching Bucky's wound. He grins at the sound of your laughter and you see the sliver the Bucky you once knew.

For the most part, Bucky didn't make much of a sound while you worked. He just kept his eyes on you, taking in every furrowed brow, every twitch of your lip. After all these years, you are still just as beautiful as before.

His heart lurches at what's become of you two. You're practically strangers again after spending so many years apart. His own doing really.

Scared of what could happen to you as he fell deeper into the family business. That's why he behaved the way that he did all those years ago. He was protecting you.

Because after all this time, Bucky Barnes still loves you.

"Alright. We're done. How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," he mumbles as he tries to sit up, but you keep him down.

"Then sleep. You and your bodyguard can stay here for the night."

The man in the corner snorts, "My name's Sam and I am not his bodyguard."

"Sorry, Sam, you and Bucky are free to sleep here for the night." Sam simply nods.

"You don't have to do this. If your dad finds out-"

"He won't. I won't tell him. And you're hurt, Bucky. Doesn't matter what you do or who you are, I can't, in good conscience, let you leave without knowing you'll be okay after this. Just-Just take this as me wanting to observe my patient for the night."

He settles further onto your couch with defeat, "Alright...you know you should've been a doctor."

"Didn't have the time or money to get my doctorate."

"I can help with the money-"

You shake your head, "It's fine, Buck. I'm happy with my job."

"Just..if you need anything, I'm here to help. That's what my dad for the people of this city and that's what I want to continue to do."

"I know. Thanks."

You stand, collecting your things, "I have some spare blankets, pillows, and toiletries. Lemme grab them."

"Okay," he says and watches as you walk to your bedroom.

Sam moves closer, "So that's her."

"Yeah."

"She's nice."

"Yup."

"And beautiful."

Bucky whips his head to Sam, glaring at him, "Watch it."

Sam holds his hands up, "I can appreciate a beautiful face, man. Besides, she's not yours anymore."

"You know how I feel about her."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sam says as he plops onto your sofa chair.

You come back with pillows and blankets in arms, "The couch is a pull out, soooo you two will have to share."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm sleeping on the floor."

You snicker, "Okaaay, uh, I have a couch in my room that one of you can take too."

Sam and Bucky look at each other and Sam immediately goes, "I call this bed!" he points to the couch that Bucky's laying on.

Bucky rolls his eyes and you chuckle, "Actually, I think I'd rather have you near me, Bucky, just in case you pull a stitch or start feeling pain again."

"If you're okay with that," he says with a shrug.

"It'll be fine," you respond as you help him sit up and then help him to his feet. He follows you to your bedroom where you show him the couch. You point to the adjoining bathroom, you can take a shower there. I already set out stuff for you and Sam."

"Thanks, Y/N. I really do appreciate it."

"Just doing my civic duty, Buck," you say with a small smile.

He clears his throat, "Yeah. Right. Of course."

"Oh!" you grab a pile of clothes and hold them out, "Here. They're my dad's for some of the nights he stays over."

Bucky can't help but snicker, "If your dad knew-"

"I know," you say with a playful roll of his eyes, "But he's not here and he won't ever know I'm helping you. So go, shower, be careful around your stiches. Call me if you need anything," you turn to set up Bucky's sleeping arrangement, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you ask when you face him again.

He looks at you with soft blue eyes as he murmurs, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, "Go. Wash all that blood off you."

"Alright," he says and grabs the clothes, going into your bathroom. When the door shuts, you fall onto your bed to give yourself a moment.

A few days ago, you went years without seeing or hearing from Bucky. Now you've seen him twice in less than a week and it's throwing your mind in for a loop.

Hopefully, this will only be a one time thing and you two can go back to being strangers again.

[saintkaylaa]

🖇️ 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐗 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.3𝐤

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚, 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧), 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Kintober 2024 || Alright listen, I know I say I don’t like Gojo but sometimes he has his moments. This was one of those moments. Thank you to my beta readers! ART by sakimichanmale on X!

𝐈 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬

“Are you bored now?” Satoru asked for the third time, rolling his chair closer to you from behind.

You rolled your eyes, still typing away at your computer, auditing completed missions.

“Since you asked,” Your eyes flit to the time at the bottom corner of your screen, “Ten minutes ago, no, I’m not.”

Satoru groaned dramatically, pulling at the back of your chair and making you bounce, messing you up on the computer. He had been pestering you all morning, for God knows why, but enough was enough.

“Satoru,” you say sternly, pulling yourself back into place at your desk and away from him, but then twisting your chair to look at him.

He was obviously amused. With the stupid smirk on his face and his overly nonchalant way of sitting as you glared at him. He was ready for you to get pissy, that was his goal after all. He loved making you mad.

“Will you stop it? I’m working.” You say to him definitively, hoping it would be the last of his incessant pestering, but you knew better. It never worked when he was trying to get you to go out with him or when you were going out with him, and especially not now as a married couple.

He sighed, throwing his head to the side and pouting, and although he had his blindfold on, you knew he was giving you puppy eyes.

“You can’t be that entertained by work. C’mooon,” He rolled his chair forward and placed his hands on your knees to twist you back to him.

“Get distracted with me.” He begged, leaning in to steal a kiss. You doged him.

“It’s not a matter of being entertained. This is my job.” You say, leaning away, the faintest smile on your lips, because as much as you hated to admit it—and never to him—he would get to you.

He would make you smile or laugh at his moronic antics. That’s one of the reasons why you loved him. You loved that he could make you laugh and make the most mundane parts of life colorful. Satoru was nothing if not colorful. Something that the Jujutsu community really lacked.

Satoru leaned in more, taking your wrists and trying to pull you into him to try and kiss you, his lips puckering comically and making kissing noises.

“Stop it, Toru,” you tried suppressing your giggle, swiveling your head to avoid him.

He sighed with a laugh, moving back into his chair. “I didn’t want to have to come to this.” He started, shaking his head, “but as your employer, I order you to kiss me.”

A beat, “Maybe fuck me too if the kiss is good.”

"Oh, really, you’re ordering me. Even though you aren’t my employer by any means.” You scoff a laugh, raising a brow at him as if challenging him to say something else. Your work long forgotten to entertain his bit.

Satoru's eyes widen in feigned surprise, his lips parting in a dramatic gasp. His hand over his heart, as if he's truly hurt by your words.

"Oh, I see how it is," he says, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "You're doubting my authority, huh? Well, I guess I'll just have to prove it to you then."

He stands up from his chair, his tall figure towering over you. With a smirk on his face, he leans down and places his hands on either side of you, effectively caging you in. His face hovering inches from yours, his warm breath against your cheeks.

"Listen here," he says your name, his voice low and husky, and a little humorously because he was so unserious all the time. "I may not be your direct employer, but I am the strongest sorcerer alive. And as such, I have the power to make you do whatever I want."

He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. You raise a brow at him in response, because he must be joking. He was the strongest sorcerer, sure, but techniques aside, he wasn’t very intimidating; and certainly not to you.

"Now, let's try this again. Kiss me, and if you do a good job, I might reward you with something extra special."

And he just meant his cock.

His lips curve into a seductive smile as he waits for your response, his eyes sparkling with anticipation behind his blindfold. You want to laugh so badly; it’s sitting right in your throat, but you abstain to spare his feelings. Your face scrunches in a “you must be kidding” look, not at all intimidated by his act—or affected at all.

So you stand, Satoru straightening in response as you, in turn, pull the same intimidation— except for you, it wasn’t an act. Satoru found you very sexy and intimidating. So when you looked up at him, so close to him, with a similar, if not better, seductive smile on your pretty lips, his act was a little harder to maintain.

“You think you intimidate me, Satoru Gojo?” You ask him, and he doesn’t know if the question is rhetorical, because he knows good and damn well that he can’t when it comes down to it. He was too busy trying not to look as nervous as he was feeling, but you always had that effect on him, even if you were his wife.

He was almost thankful for his blindfold, so that you couldn’t see the way you had such an effect on him. But then you chuckled, flitting your eyes over his features, and he knew you could see right through him.

You reached towards his face, your fingers brushing against the edge of his blindfold, and then lifted it up with a tantalizing slowness that made his breath hitch. The cool air hit his exposed eyes, and he couldn't help but lock gazes with you.

He swallows hard, trying to regain his composure, but the way you're looking at him makes it difficult. His lips part slightly, as if he's about to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he finds himself leaning in closer.

And through his parted lips, in the mix of his own thoughts, all he can do is chuckle, a sudden mischievous look in his eyes when he gets a thought.

You don’t even have time to react when Satoru is lifting you up to seat you down on top of your desk. You squeak when your ass hits the surface.

“Sato–“

Satoru stops your whine when he takes your jaw in one of his hands and then pulls you closer. Your eyes immediately lock onto his lips as he brings yours just a hairline away from his.

“I may not intimidate you,” He breathes, tilting you just a bit back so that your eyes meet his. “But I know I can make you wet.” He finishes and then pulls you in again to catch your lips before you could even think of protesting. That fucker.

Satoru's lips meet yours in a passionate, demanding kiss. His hand on your jaw tightens slightly, holding you in place to open his mouth to deepen the kiss, and you find yourself melting into it. His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips. You part your lips willingly, just as needy to taste him.

Satoru's other hand finds its way to your thigh, his fingers tracing patterns against you. Then he hooks one of your legs over his hip, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk, and presses his body against yours. You can feel the heat of his body through his clothes and his cock straining against his pants and against your pussy.

When he finally pulls away, you're both left panting, your lips swollen and glistening. Satoru's eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, but he’s grinning, and it makes you grin too. And you think about how lucky you are to have Satoru in your life to make you feel so alive and excited about each day because you know that he will always be the highlight of them.

“Toru,“ you grin breathlessly, when suddenly he’s back on you. The kiss is even more heated than the last. His hands feel like they’re everywhere, and you can’t help the quiet moan that bubbles up in your throat and into his mouth. He leans you back and pulls you to the edge of the desk even more, and you wrap both your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more—urging him to keep going even though you really shouldn’t.

So he does, and you can feel every womanly inhibition you have melt away against the brush of his fingertips over the bare skin of your inner thigh. It’s making you feel fuzzy and stupid, and you wonder if he knows that your intimidation is all an act too. So long as he has you wrapped around his finger (sometimes quite literally), you were just as much whipped for him as he was for you. The only difference is that you were a much better actor.

A whine fills the space between both of you, and Satoru pulls away slightly to look at you as his knuckles brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

And he laughs.

"See?" he murmurs, his voice low and breathy. "I told you I could make you wet,” he nips at your bottom lips and then soothes the skin with his tongue. But you wish it would soothe the other pain down your body. “And I'm just getting started."

He just thinks you look so pretty, all flushed and needy. Lips swollen and glistening. Dress disheveled and hiked up, exposing your clothed wet pussy. He has to fight down the groan sitting in his chest and the ache in his groin.

His head rests against your chest, and he can hear how fast your heart is beating. Thumping wildly as his fingers hook onto your panties to pull them aside.

“Fuck baby,” Satoru sighs a moan, seeing the strings of your arousal stretch away from your panties, and the sight of your pussy makes his mouth water.

Your eyes flutter, and your breath grows shaky as the cool air hits your folds, and you try so hard to keep some semblance of composure because in the back of your mind you’re still acutely aware that you're still at the office on campus grounds; albeit it’s pretty quiet now, and there were only a few other supervisor managers in the office, but still, anyone could easily walk through the open door of your office.

It was hard to focus, let alone form the words to tell Satoru to stop (and not that you wanted him to either), now that his mouth was on yours again, his hand at the back of your head and pushing you against his mouth, sucking every gasp out of you, and his thumb rubbing over the slit of your puffy folds, purposely ignoring your clit.

“U-uh, excuse me.” You startle at the voice behind you, Sato Sanado, one of the newer managers there.

You look over your shoulder and shove away from you, jumping off the desk and moving towards the door, thankful you were wearing a dress that slid back down your thighs.

“Sato, I apologize. I didn’t hear you.” You say frantically, offering him an apologetic smile as you smooth out your dress.

“I uh,” Sato looks between you and Satoru, who now stood with his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. “I just needed you to look over my audits. I might have done a few things wrong.” He finishes, looking at you now with a confused look.

“Of course.” You breathe out, already extending your hand to him to look at the documents in his.

Satoru waits patiently and watches the exchange between you and Sato with a mixture of mostly annoyance and a clenched jaw. Annoyed that they had gotten interrupted, forcing him to stand in a way that wasn’t going to show his erection. Annoyed that all he could think of was bending you over the desk.

Annoyed that this Sato idiot was taking so fucking long to ask for your help when he could have been buried to the hilt inside you by now.

“This is right, just remember that these sections here need signatures.” You tell Sato, looking up at him to make sure he understands. Unbeknownst to you though, Sato was already looking at you and blushing at your praise, but Satoru noticed.

Ah, so he’s infatuated, Satoru thinks, a smirk pulling at his mouth as he continued to watch the way Sato's gaze lingers on you. It's obvious that he has a crush on you, and Satoru wonders if you know, but by the way you’re barely looking at him, Satoru would guess not.

“You got it?” You ask Sato, briefly looking at Satoru before pushing the documents back into Sato’s hands, eager to get rid of him.

Sato looks disappointed, “Y-yes, I got it.” He stammers, “Thank you.” He slightly bows to her and then to Satoru before promptly leaving.

You’re quick to close the door behind him, resting against the door and sighing in relief; and when you catch your breath and some mental clarity, you turn back to Satoru, who’s leaning against your desk, arms crossed.

You furrow your brows and mimic his stance, crossing your arms and making your way to him—the click of your heels accentuating your steps.

“What are you smirking at?” You say, rounding the corner of your desk, and Satoru mirrors your movements, closing the distance between you.

“Oh, nothing much," he says casually, his voice smooth and nonchalant. "Just admiring the view."

He leans in, placing his hands on the desk behind you, trapping you between him and the edge, and your eyes meet his again. "Should I be worried about him?" he murmurs, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” You roll your eyes, laughing at him. Your hands sliding up his chest and locking your fingers on the back of his neck, “And don’t joke, especially when being jealous over him isn’t something you actually are.”

Satoru's lips curve into a smirk at your response, and he can't help but find amusement in the way you try to dismiss Sato's crush. But he knows better. He knows how hard it was for even him to get you to go out with him, but still, the thought of someone, some other man, getting that close to you was not something he cared to entertain, even if it was unlikely.

"Oh, but I am," he counters, leaning closer, determined to keep up the bit, despite what you just told him. "You're mine. And I don't share."

He seizes your hips, hoisting you onto the desk once more, and you gasp surprised this time. His hands slide up your body, fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, and he smirks as you arch into his touch.

"Satoru, we really shouldn’t,” you urge, but it’s weak and half-spirited. And you pull him against your neck, “We literally just got caught.”

"Mhm," he hums dismissively, his lips kissing their way up your neck, across your jawline, and then finally finding home against your lips. Your breath is shallow, and he knows your restraint (if any left) was slipping away under his touch.

His hands slide down to your thighs, and he spreads your legs apart to slot himself between, his erection pressing against your core.

Did it even go down? You ask yourself feeling how hard he was still.

Your thoughts quiet at the feeling of Satoru’s fingers finding your pussy again. Caught again in the same position, in the same heat of the moment, before you two were interrupted. Except this time, your mind was too foggy to protest. So you take his face in your hands and you kiss him, tongue slipping into his mouth as he laughs in triumph at your easy defeat. He loves how you melt under his touch and how you always end up wanting him as much as he wants you, no matter how much you try to resist. It’s endearing to him.

Satoru groans into the kiss, his fingers slipping into your panties again, and he can feel how wet you are—how wet you still are.

"You're always so wet for me," he murmurs against your lips, his fingers teasing your clit and pulling a full moan out of you. "I think you like pretending that you can resist me."

He doesn't wait for a response before he's pushing your panties to the side and sinking a finger into your pussy. You gasp, your head falling back as he starts to pump in and out, his thumb rubbing deliciously around your clit; and it sounds so fucking explicit, but it feels so fucking good for your pussy to finally get the attention he deprived of you earlier.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his hips grinding against your inner thigh, so so desperate to find some relief. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

You wanna say some smart remark about giving your thigh rug burn by how fast and hard he’s trying to find relief against you, but then adds a second finger, stretching you out deliciously, and the remark takes form as another moan. The response you do give him is your walls fluttering around his soaked digits.

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, his voice low and rough with impatience. "Let me eat your pussy.”

You whine, upset and impatient. Both with his fingers slipping out of you and because you just wanted him fucking you already. You couldn’t take anymore foreplay, and God forbid you get interrupted again. You wanted to cum, damn it.

"No, babe,” you complain, halting him as he’s about to get on his knees, “We don’t have time for that. Just fuck me already, please.”

He grunts begrudgingly, a pained look on his face like he was considering what was worse. Not eating you out or rushing him, reluctantly he moves to undo his pants anyway. “Okay, fuck, okay.”

He’s fumbling, his hands moving too excitedly at the thought of finally fucking you right into the goddamn desk.

Truth be told, he had been thinking about it all day, the first urge coming to him as you left the house in the dress you were bunching up for him. It’s what brought him to your office to wear you down into submission like this. Needy and desperate for him to fuck you without caring about the consequences you two got a taste of when Sato walked in on you two.

Satoru groaned watching you slip your panties off for him. Watching him finally unzipping and pushing everything down to free his angry pink-tipped leaky cock.

Satoru closed his eyes at the cool feel of the air, his cock bobbing for your attention.

“Turn around.” Satoru orders, but it sounds gravely like a growl.

But you’re so distracted by the look of his pretty hot pink tip that you don’t hear him. He moves one hand to lift your head to meet his eyes, while the other hand moves to stroke his cock for some relief.

“What?” You ask softly, scrunching your eyebrows confused.

If he wasn’t desperate to sink into your pussy and paint your insides white, he’d have half a mind to paint your pretty face white. Smearing his cum over your kiss swollen lips like fucking lipgloss.

“Get up and turn around.” He repeats, trying to ignore the image of your cum-covered face intruding his mind, “Someone has to keep watch, right?”

You roll your eyes trying to seem annoyed, but you just wanted to be fucked already, and in the back of your mind you appreciated that at least one of you was worried about getting caught again, even if it was a joke.

Satoru can't help but smirk as he watches you roll your eyes at him before helping you off the desk, his hands lingering on your hips as he guides you to turn around.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your heated skin as he positions you just how he wants you.

“Keep watch for me."

With you bent over the desk, he can’t help but admire the view for a moment. Your ass is up in the air; your legs spread just enough for him to see your glistening pussy. Excited to feel your tight walls squeezing around his cock as he fucks you into oblivion.

Satoru chuckles, the sound low and dark as he reaches around to grab your hips, "Be nice, or the next time we get interrupted, I won’t stop to spare your dignity.”

You feel the blunt head of his cock nudging against your entrance, and you have to bite back a moan. "Shut up and fuck me." You bite, your tone laced with attitude.

But he doesn't need to be told twice.

With that, he slams into you, his cock burying deep inside your pussy just barely kissing your sweet spot.

You cry out, your hands flying to grip the edge of the desk as he starts to pull back, and you brace yourself for the brutal pace he’s about to unleash on your poor sensitive pussy.

Satoru slams back in, the sound reverberating off the goddamn walls, and his hips repeat. Slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you in place. He’s pounding into you relentlessly, his cock grinding and stretching against your walls so fucking good that you think your pussy cries.

“I’ve been waiting all day to have.”

You're moaning and whimpering into your hands, wanting to be as quiet as possible, because if someone walked in now, you don’t think you would be able to tell Satoru to stop.

“S-Sato… fu-fuck—“ You stammer, and there’s a brief lapse as he pulls back and laughs when pushing back in.

Did you just call out to Sato? He thinks, but his thoughts are clouded by the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. And then he hears the rest of his name shakily come out of your mouth, and he realizes it’s that you physically couldn’t even get his name out.

With that, he gets a sinister idea, and he takes a centering breath before Satoru reaches for the phone behind you, his pace not letting up in the slightest (however that was even possible).

He dials and brings the phone up to his ear.

“This is Sato!” Comes out of the phone, and Satoru places the phone over your head.

“Baby,” Satoru starts, his pace slowing down some to keep you from cumming too quickly. Having just had a fun idea he wanted to play out.

“How’s my cock feel, baby?” Satoru asks, bending down until his chest is flushed against your back. He wanted to make sure Sato heard everything, with you none the wiser.

You moan again, but it’s choppy, your body writhing under his touch, and Satoru knows that Sato can hear every single sound. Your moans, his voice, the schlick schlick sound your pussy is making as he continues to fuck you. It's a heady feeling for him, knowing that someone else was listening, but fuck did it also feel good knowing that he was getting to fuck you when desired by someone else.

Fuck, he was getting close.

“Say my name, baby,” Satoru coaxes, kissing and nipping sloppily along your spine. His hand sliding around your body to flick at your nipples.

You whine, but that’s not an acceptable response for him. No, he needed you to repeat what you had said earlier.

Satoru’s fingers pinch your nipples a little hard, and he angles his hips to fuck you just where you wanted.

“Say it, baby, or I’m gonna stop.” Satoru does his best to sound threatening, but his orgasm is creeping up on him. Your pussy feels slicker, and that’s usually the telltale sign that you’re about to cum too.

“S-sat-to—fuck… please,” you barely get out, and that’s extremely what Satoru wanted to hear.

Again, Satoru reaches for the phone to bring to his ear again, and on the other end of the line, Satoru hears the rushed clink sound of a metal belt followed by a quiet moan of relief. Knowing that Sato had given into temptation, falling for Satoru’s sick trap, and strangling the aching pain in his cock.

“Toru…” You say in a shaky breath, trying to get his attention.

Satoru looks to you again, your body beginning to tremble.

“I’m going to cum.”

Satoru slams the phone back into its place, ending the call.

"Fuck, I’m going to cum too. Cum with me, baby.” His tone shifts, and it’s needier, his thrusts getting sloppier.

You’re trembling, your orgasm nearing as your body overloads on all the sensations Satoru is giving you. Then he’s moaning in your ear, a slew of profanities leaving his mouth as he fucks into so hard that both your bodies and the fucking desk are moving.

“Fuck,” Satoru curses, your name following in a high pitched whine, “I love you.”

And with those words, you're pushed over the edge, your body shattering with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your hands lacing with his as you both cum together.

Satoru follows soon after, his body stiff as he emptied himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each wave of his release.

As you both come down from your high, and a few sensual kisses and “I love you’s” are shared, Satoru pulls away, taking the blindfold in his pocket and handing it to you to clean the cum that spilled out of you and onto the desk.

He’s smiling as he helps you sit back up.

“What?” You laugh, curious to know what he’s thinking of now.

“Nothing,” he assures, but he chuckles, “I think me and Sato would be great friends.”

But you’re just as confused as you were before.

✶𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where the weight of Matt's actions gets the best of him, and he tries everything to receive his girl's forgiveness.

WARNING: Fighting, cursing, crying, smut (mdni), slight praise kink. Angst with a happy ending!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt sighed deeply as he parked his car at an abandoned gas station. He closed his eyes tightly as his index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his own nose. His body was completely tense, as if someone had thrown a sack of potatoes over his shoulders and hadn't removed it until now.

The boy reopened his eyes seconds later, looking vacantly at the pitch black surrounding him before seeing out of the corner of his eye his phone screen light up for the thousandth time, alerting him of a new notification. He picked up the device, unlocking it and scrolling through the notifications bar.

His heart seemed to stop pumping blood to his body instantly, his face taking on a pale color as he saw more than 20 new messages and thousands of missed voice calls coming from Chris.

His brain seemed to go on red alert as his mind screamed Y/N's name, and then he finally revisited the memory of what he did to his own girlfriend just over an hour ago, the smoky fog finally dissipating from behind his eyes.

Matt felt like his chest was burning while his heart accelerated strongly. His arms momentarily lost strength, almost dropping his phone.

His eyes flicked through the messages before tossing the device onto the passenger seat, turning the key in the ignition and driving back.

He stepped on the accelerator with full force, exceeding all permitted limits and passing all red lights. He knew he would wake up the next day with a new ticket - or several -, but that was his last concern at that moment.

His orbs were fixed on the road, his brow furrowed as his mind rattled off the words he threw at his girl, his precious girl. If he could, Matt would go back in time right then and there, so he wouldn't break his promise to never hurt and abandon her.

Matt turned his steering wheel abruptly when their house appeared on his eyesight, slamming the break in front of the garage door, wasting no time in parking correctly. His hands quickly unlocked the doors, throwing his body out of the driver's seat and slamming it behind him, the dull thud echoing through the lonely night.

The boy's hands shook as he fumbled for the front door key, cursing under his breath each time it seemed to slip through his fingers.

Finally, after a few long seconds, he was able to open it, closing it slowly so as not to wake Nick, not wanting to involve another person in his huge mistake.

His steps were quick down the stairs, stopping in front of the familiar white door. The boy took a deep breath before turning the handle, pushing it slightly.

Matt's eyes met Y/N quickly, pain hitting his heart like a stake at seeing her in such a vulnerable state; Her eyes - despite being closed - were swollen and her face was wet from the last tears she shed before falling asleep.

A rude sound caught his attention, his gaze meeting Chris's, who stood up from his chair abruptly. His eyes held a fury that Matt didn't remember ever seeing before, while his shoulders were tense with nervousness.

Before Matt could utter a word, Chris pulled the collar of his shirt, bringing his face closer to his own. Chris's nostrils were flared from his heavy breathing, hitting Matt's face.

"If Jimmy was here, you'd be dead. That's no way to treat a woman." Chris rasped, his voice low but full of anger. "Fix your mistakes, or I'll end you."

He pulled away, roughly letting go of Matt's shirt, watching him with his right eyebrow raised and crossed arms, waiting for his next move.

Matt swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip hard, feeling the sensation of crying rise through his veins. He quickly turned his back on Chris, walking over to his brother's bed with tentative steps.

His hands lightly pulled the duvet down, exposing the fragile body covered in the pink sweatshirt set. Matt hooked his arms under Y/N's neck and knees, pulling her up carefully, watching her eyes move beneath her eyelids quickly. A sign of a nightmare.

Matt hugged her closer to his body, walking past his brother with his head down in shame, leaving the room and going up the stairs slowly, not wanting to wake her with every movement of each step.

Upon arriving in their respective bedroom, the boy took her to the bed, placing her body gently on the soft mattress.

"M-Matty?" The fragile voice echoed like lightning in Matt's chest.

Matt sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he crouched down, getting into a squatting position. The boy rested his arms on the mattress, bringing his face slightly closer to hers, watching her eyes slowly open.

"You came back. I thought you left me." Y/N whispered, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Would you really leave me?"

Matt felt his heart being crushed by her words, his cheeks burning, as if he had been slapped. He swallowed hard, mentally calling himself every worst name possible.

"No, no, no, baby! I would never leave you-" He shook his head repeatedly, his brow furrowing in such a way that he was sure it would leave marks.

You already did.

"But... You said you'd stay forever, and then you left me out in the cold, alone." A sob escaped Y/N's lips, her weak body shaking incessantly. "What did I do? Why would you do that to me?"

Matt felt his own eyes filling with tears, blinking them quickly to ward off the tears. The boy bent over his girl, hugging her head gently, stroking her hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love. I fucked up. Badly." An ugly sob escaped Matt's throat, cutting off his sentence. He closed his eyes tightly, the taste of his tears touching his tongue. "I love you so much, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that this doesn't change my actions, and trying to find a plausible explanation for why I acted that way won't erase what I did." His eyes travel across Y/N's features, seeing an ocean of hurt in her eyes. "If I could, I would go back and remake our day all over again."

He paused momentarily, swallowing hard.

"All the work we are getting with the 6 million and the new things on the channel has taken a toll on me. I missed you so much, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don't know what's gotten into me, I just got so upset because I wasn't seeing you as much as before. God, I was so selfish." Matt shook his head, biting his bottom lip hard. "I love you, and I never want to hurt you, not again. I was on the wrong, I fucked up with you."

His hands shook as they found her cheeks, caressing the wet skin.

"I'm so sorry." His voice now was a mere whisper, pain present in his tone.

"I-I understand. I also made a mistake, I should have warned you that I had to work overtime and... Give you space, I know I can be a lot sometimes. I never wanted you to come pick me up out of pity or obligation-"

Matt shook his head repeatedly, silencing her by guiding her head slightly so that she looked him in the eyes. His fingers working to brush the loose hair from her face.

"Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. I love taking care of you as I take you to work and pick you up... It was my fault. I was an asshole, a terrible boyfriend, I- fuck..." He presses his lips into a thin line, stopping the sob that was about to come out. "I left you alone, what the hell was I thinking?"

"It's okay." Y/N whispers, lowering her eyes to the mattress, feeling her chest burn in pain from seeing him so distressed.

"Shh, no. It isn't okay." Matt denies it, his fingers touching Y/N's chin lightly, forcing her to look at him again. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness." He was pleading with his eyes for her to understand that she was not the one to be blamed.

Y/N nods while sniffling, closing her eyes as she feels her fingers caress her face as if she were made of porcelain.

"I love you. So much." Matt says. His hands cup her face, bringing his own closer, touching their noses in an eskimo kiss. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeated it like a mantra, sighing when he felt his girlfriend's ragged breaths so close to his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry."

Their faces were equally wet with tears.

"It's okay, I'll forgive you at some point. Just... Don't ever do it again. Please." Y/N plead in a vulnerable whisper, half opening her eyes, before closing them again as she feels Matt's lips caress hers.

"Never, I'll never do anything like that again. I promise. I'll take care of you forever." He assured, nodding his head. "What can I do? How... What can I do to make you forgive me?" His tone was full of despair.

Y/N pondered momentarily, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Her hands snaked across the duvet until they reached Matt's wrists, wrapping her fingers gently around them. She pushed her head forward, lightly bumping her nose against his, touching their lips almost imperceptibly.

"Make love with me. Show me how sorry you are. Show me how much you love me, Matt. Please." She begged softly, her eyelashes caressing her cheeks as her eyelids fluttered, hiding her orbs.

Matt felt his breathing stop, his mind seeming to process what she asked. He curved his spine higher up the mattress, sealing his lips on Y/N's quickly, before pulling away, but not enough to lose the warmth of his face against his own.

"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability." His tone, despite being anxious, had hints of hesitation, not wanting to invade his girl's space after such a traumatic event.

"Please, Matty. I need to feel you. I need you to love me." Thick tears rolled down Y/N's cheeks, her tone full of anguish and lust, a strange mix, but one that matched perfectly at that moment.

Matt didn't blink, pushing himself up off the floor before kneeling on the mattress, helping Y/N lift her upper body.

He rested his right hand on the bed while his left one gently held his girl's jaw, as if she was made of glass and could break at any moment.

The boy brought his face closer to hers again, taking her lips in an intense kiss. His blue eyes closed at the sensation, his warm tongue caressing Y/N's bottom lip, asking for entry, which was quickly granted.

Their tongues started a beautiful dance, the taste of tears mixed with saliva. Whimpers escaped Y/N's throat, her hands flying to the back of Matt's neck, lightly tugging at the curly strands.

Matt moved nimbly onto the duvet, kneeling between his girl's legs and using both of his hands to guide her down, squeezing the spot below her breasts, just above her ribs, so that her back lay against the mattress again.

He bent his torso over Y/N's chest, keeping his weight supported on his right hand while his left one caressed her cheek, never once breaking the kiss.

Y/N snaked her hands around Matt's shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles caused by his position, desperate for contact.

Her fingers went down her boyfriend's abdomen like warm water, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slowly. Matt broke the kiss for a second, allowing her to pull the piece of clothing off his body.

His large hands worked on ripping off Y/N's hoodie gently, admiring every bit of her exposed skin, and mentally thanking her for being braless.

He dropped the heavy piece to the floor, lowering his spine again and sealing her lips, their tongues now in a slower pace, pain giving way to love.

Matt ran his right hand down Y/N's breasts, caressing her nipples just momentarily, before moving further down, trailing his fingertips across her stomach and navel, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

He touched the waistband of her sweatpants lightly, breaking the kiss momentarily to draw in air, which filled his lungs like water on dry ground. His eyes wandered over the girl's hopeful expression, taking that as a go-ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the mattress slightly, pressing their mouths together again, craving the contact.

Matt smiled against her sensitive lips, finally running his hand through the layers of clothes, moving down until he found Y/N's pleasure point.

His fingers rubbed circles around the already swollen clit, receiving nasal sighs from the girl below him, who raised her hips in search of more contact.

He took his fingers further down, slipping a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move better. He gathers a bit of it before slowly introducing two digits.

Matt pulled his lips away from Y/N, his blue eyes traveling over her features contorted in pleasure as she felt his long fingers going deep inside her. He felt like he could admire her like that forever; cheeks flushed from all the crying and pleasure, mouth slightly open - from where gasps and sighs escaped -, brow furrowed and eyes closed.

That was his private paradise.

"Matt, please." Her voice came out in a faint whisper, a silent plea for more.

The boy didn't take long, lifting himself onto the mattress to have greater access, dragging the sweatpants and panties down his girl's legs slowly, not wanting to hurt or rush her.

He removed his own pants and boxers, returning to his initial position between his girlfriend's legs. Matt lowered his torso, spreading small, wet seals across her belly toward her breasts.

His hands gently held Y/N's heels, pushing them so that she bent her knees and placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, opening her legs wider.

A breathy moan escaped the girl's lips as Matt gently kissed one of her nipples, the slightly chilled air of the room hitting the saliva on her hot skin, goosebumps rising through her body as a result.

"Is it good, baby? I'm making you feel good, hm?" Matt questions knowingly. "Y'so pretty. Even when you cry. My pretty girl."

He stroked the skin between the valley of her breasts with the tip of his nose, before moving up further, managing to see Y/N nod her head repeatedly in response, her cheeks wet from her tears.

Matt pressed his forehead to hers, their heavy breaths mixing as he looked down momentarily, taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times, a wince escaping his lips at the sensation.

His blue eyes met hers, silently asking if he could continue. In response, Y/N's right hand snaked up his torso towards the small of his back, pressing down lightly, while her left hand squeezed the biceps of his occupied one.

Matt lowered his hips, brushing his red tip between her folds. He moved his hips gently, slowly pushing into her. A unison moan escaped both of their lips, Y/N closing her eyes tightly at the feeling of invasion while Matt kept his open, taking note of her every expression.

The boy eventually started picking up his pace, going with slow and shallow thrusts, sighs escaping his mouth, accompanied by breathy moans from Y/N.

"Matt- Oh." Her mouth opened in a perfect O as she felt Matt hit a specific spot inside her that made her see stars. "D-don't stop. Please."

"I won't, my love. I'll never let you go. Never again." Matt promised, his hips moving to deepen his thrusts.

Tears fell from Y/N's eyes due to the overwhelming sensations, the weight of the previous events still hurting in her heart, mixing with the immense pleasure that the boy was presenting her.

Matt sealed each of her tears with his lips, whispering sweet nothings and little apologies, along with huge declarations of love.

A sob escaped Y/N's mouth, her teeth working to clamp down on her lower lip in an attempt to stop the loud, ugly sounds from keep escaping.

"Hey, hey, sweet girl. I'm here for you. You're so important, the best girl out there. I love you so much... M'so sorry." He murmured against her lips lightly, his own heart aching with each tear that fell her pretty eyes. "Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?"

"N-no, please. I need you, I need to feel you." Y/N responded desperately, shaking her head, lifting her head off the mattress and sealing their lips in a messy kiss.

"It's okay, it's alright." Matt responded gently against her mouth. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

His movements never stopped, Matt alternated the rhythm between slow and deep, reaching places inside Y/N never reached before, feeling her hot, spongy walls pressing him into a delicious tightness.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N moaned against Matt's chin, their faces moving messily against each other from the now faster movements. "P-please." She cried.

"I love you so much, so fucking much." Matt panted back, fucking her with a little more urgency, chasing her and his own orgasm.

It didn't take more than five thrusts, and Y/N felt her entire body tremble, her legs instinctively wanting to close - being blocked by Matt's hips - while her belly contracted. Her chest rose slightly from the mattress as her spine arched from the intense pleasure that hit her.

Her eyes saw little stars as she rolled them tightly, Matt's name escaping her lips like a mantra.

The sight and feeling of his girl's body shaking against his brought Matt's orgasm to the surface, hitting him hard. A moan escaped his throat as he buried himself deep inside her pussy, feeling his cock throbbing against the walls that seemed to want to crush him.

Matt pressed his nose against Y/N's cheek, breathing in her scent as he felt the sensations of his orgasm slowly subside.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Y/N whispered, still in a post-orgasm trance, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged, her legs still having small spasms.

Matt kept his eyes fixed on her face, watching her come down slowly, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her.

"Y'with me, babe? S'all for you, my love. Always." Matt slurred, pressing his lips against his girl's warm, flushed cheek. His left hand went up her body to her face, wiping away the traces of tears. "I'm so sorry, petal." He asked again, his chest still aching.

"S'okay, I forgive you." She nodded, kissing his left shoulder lightly, her eyes heavy with sleep from exhaustion and excessive crying.

"I'm going to fill the bathtub and give you a relaxing bath, okay? M'gonna take care of you, sweet girl." Matt spoke softly, moving his hips slowly, taking his cock out of her, receiving a small sound of discomfort in response. "Shh. I know baby, I know." He whispered. "I'm gonna grab some snacks from the kitchen, so you can eat while I wash your body. How does that sound, pretty girl? Hm?"

"S'good. Please." Her voice came out in an almost incomprehensible whisper, her eyelids serving as curtains for her heavy eyes. She could feel her head floaty and her heart beating in a rhythmic rhythm, her skin warm with euphoria.

Matt sealed her forehead with his lips for long seconds, closing his eyes and breathing in the natural scent of Y/N's skin.

He still felt the guilt eating him alive, promising himself he would never again let his emotions get the best of him. He would take care of her, his best girl.

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@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @iammattswife @ilovethesturniolotriplets @disturbedwoodelf @sturnzsblog @mattsneezing @sillyfreakfanparty @firexovni @iloveneilperry @jlb20416 @strnlsblog @twdfjhsdjk

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[mins-fins]

the cure

&&. mark shows up to your place bleeding red, and red is your least favorite color.

pairing: mark lee x gn!reader

genre: fluff, spiderman!mark & student nurse!reader

warnings: descriptions of injuries, blood, and violence

word count: 1.3k

notes: this was supposed to come out yesterday but i had the worst migraine and literally ended up passing out 😆 its okay though the grind never stops!! this little bit (spiderman + med student) was originally supposed to be longer and it might still be longer form i just cant begin that right now 😓 okay everyone have a good day and dont get a migraine like isa

mark, for some reason, feels guilty.

his guilt manifests in the blood that trickles down his side, the cut digs into his heart, rips it out, and stomps on it. the figurative scars hurt more than the literal one, and though the pain is excruciating, he feels much more disappointed than anything.

jeez that guy did him bad, he didn't know pocket knives could do that much damage, he was just trying to go about his night on that skyscraper, but of course, something had to happen.

since when do robbers carry knives? he probably won't be able to get over that for a while.

but mark doesn't allow for himself to stumble, he doesn't need for things to become worse. though he would usually just go home and try to deal with the cuts himself, he instead brings himself to another apartment, sitting outside on the balcony of a familiar room.

he peaks over, pressing his face against the window. he raises his fist and softly knocks on the glass, alerting the person inside of his presence. you turn around upon hearing the noise, a muted gasp escaping your lips as you rush towards the window to open it.

"mark? oh my god are you— jesus".

mark simply gives a dorky smile, no teeth, and you usher him in, supporting him as he slumps down the moment he enters your room. "is this a bad time?" he manages to ask, biting back his wince as he feels your finger lightly grace the wound on his hip, the blood smearing onto your hand.

"no, it's just.." you pause, collecting yourself as you stare at the crimson belonging to mark. "i'll be right back" you rush towards the bathroom, and mark watches each of you movements.

after washing your hands, you return with a first aid kit and warm wet cloth, mark immediately smiles once he hears your footsteps. "alright, let's bandage you up now" you whisper, again kneeling to mark's level as you examine the cut.

there's a slit in mark's suit where the cut resides, a nauseating gash that makes even you, a nurse in training, grimace. you tilt your head to the side, lips pursued as you focus on bandaging mark up, not wanting for it to get infected.

mark closes his eyes in exhaustion, holding back his winces as you press the wet cloth to his damaged skin, dabbing away the blood. the pain is evident on his face, his expressions much too obvious to be feigned. "hurts huh?"

your boyfriend hums, opening one of his eyes. "yeah" he can't help the frown that graces his lips, a frown you pick up on.

"this isn't the first time right?" you know, of course you know, you can read mark like he's your favorite work of literature. mark never understands how you do it, but he also decides never to question it.

"no" his tongue runs over his teeth, somehow feeling disappointed. he lightly shifts in his position when he feels you apply ointment to the cut, finally allowing that well needed wince to leave his lips. "i didn't mean to hide all my wounds from you i just.. i didn't want you to worry".

you offer a small chuckle. "i worry about you either way, baby".

the petname makes the heat on his face amplify, and he looks down at the floor. "and you don't like red.."

you blink. "what?"

mark begins picking at his nails, embarrassed. "you don't like red, i didn't want to constantly show up all cut and busted up, i just wanted to save you the worry".

your gaze softens, but mark avoids your eyes anyway, somewhat ashamed of the words he just muttered.

knowing your boyfriend is spiderman hasn't really assured any of your worries. before, it was just anxiety about how much work he was putting himself through, and now it was anxiety about literally everything. he could show up on your doorstep or windowsill with wounds all over him, terribly injured, and he'd just.. smile. how could you not worry?

"you don't have to save me anything, i'm here to make sure you're okay" you say, frowning at the whole display before you. "so.. how do i take this off?"

"wow, trying to undress me already?"

you playfully hit mark's shoulder, and he giggles at your resulting expression. still, he points you to the zipper on his suit, and you begin unzipping the spandex so you can reveal his other scars much easier. mark isn't focusing on that, though, he's instead focused on the rip in his very own suit. "fucker put a tear in it".

you let out an amused snicker, but mark's frown doesn't falter. "is that really all you care about?"

your boyfriend shrugs. "well i do care about it, i spent so much time sewing it.."

realizing he was genuinely upset about it, your smile falls, pointer finger trailing down his neck, feeling all of the scars from previous battles. "i'll help you sew it back, okay?" you use your free hand to tilt his chin towards you, and the smile you offer makes him smile.

"you're so gentle" mark lets his head slowly fall onto your shoulder, humming in solace at the feeling of warmth surrounding him. "i should've come to you sooner".

"well you can come to me now" you respond, voice laced with nothing but adoration. "think i can do a better job at patching you up than what you've been doing for all this time.."

you use your free hand to cup mark's face, squishing his cheeks. you chuckle at the display, completely enamored by the sight before you. "i'll take care of you now, you always know where to find me".

mark doesn't respond, worn out from literally everything, but his smile says it all. he again leans against you, and you can feel his heart beating. the sweetness of his smile contrasts the red that still stain his skin, but he no longer minds. "you're too nice to me".

"that's my job".

mark opens his eyes, staring at you for a moment, silent. then, he sits up and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

you yelp at the sudden change of mood, but you snicker, and mark feels your smile against his lips. your back just lightly hits your bed, legs coming up as mark's hand holds your jaw, gently keeping you in place as his presses become much more frenzied.

there's a slight whine that comes from you, and mark retreats for air a small while after, hands still holding onto your jaw, his finger beginning to caress your skin. "sorry.." he mutters, his head falling onto your chest.

you let out a silent laugh. "for what?"

mark's arms come to wrap around you, leaving you trapped in your place. "worrying you, it was just—"

you press your pointer finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. "you don't have to explain it anymore, babe, you're okay, and that's all that matters to me".

if mark's cheeks dust red, he again tries to hide that fact by hiding his face from you. "love you".

the words are small, nothing but a whisper in your expanse of a room, but you hear them loud and clear. his arms circled around your waist leave you with a feeling of warmth, easement that just brightens your night a little bit more.

"i love you too, but you can't fall asleep on me like this".

mark almost lets out a whine, but he just frowns. "at least let me change you into something comfortable, and finish cleaning that other cut".

and though mark doesn't want to let you go, he also can't help but smile at the words.

your favorite color isn't red, it's your least, but when mark bleeds red, that all becomes unnecessary.

you'll be here to patch up all of his red, you're sure of it.

[heartilywrites]

hold me, console me and then i'll leave without a trace; c. hyunju

request guide | masterlist

summary: how easy is for a person to disappear from the face of the earth?

cw: mentions of transphobia, blood and acts of violence ; angst ; cho hyunju x fem!reader ; open ending ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.9k

a/n: you have to know i adore to do angst, i would like to apologize publicly— THIS IS MY SPECIAL 200 FOLLOWERS thank u to the 200 people who followed me lov u. hope y'all enjoy this one <3 it was 100% inspired by no one noticed by the marias, that song reminds me of hyunju so i had to do this sorry-

Fire red was all you could see, your whole vision was dyed in this vibrant color while your hands closed tighter over a metal bar you found laying around in the alley the group of boys were taunting over your friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey,” you called for them, the whole group turned unbothered. Hyunju? She looked scared for her life. “Why don't you tease on someone your size?”

The group started to giggle while your friend shook her head, asking you silently to stop, but you didn’t care. You wouldn’t stop as long as they kept bothering your only friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Look at her! Oh, I’m so scared!” the so noticeable leader tried to intimidate you, when he turned to laugh with his friends an empty sound made noise. You had hit him with the bar on the head, causing him to scream in pain and turn back to you.

When you lifted up the bar again everyone started running away, you took the chance to kneel beside Hyunju who was protecting her body however she could. A small ‘Are you okay?’ was heard from you when she uncovered her face, at the sight of blood you frowned.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” and with that you took the bar again.

Screaming all types of insults you started running behind the group of boys who didn’t get far to give them what you called divine justice. Five against one and even then you were able to win the fight.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Ah, that hurts!” the moan came along with a grimace, jumping away from the little cotton filled with alcohol.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you you don’t need to protect me.” Hyunju scolded again, while cleaning your wounds. “I’m okay on my own.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They’re idiots,” you growled while looking in your messy backpack for what you wanted to find. A crooked smile began to paint your face thanks to the open wound on your lip, you handed Hyunju the little bottles of nail polish. “I took them from a store, your favorite colors.”

Brown eyes began to glow with excitement which was quick to shut down on their own, Hyunju captured on her face a hurt grimace, as if she was the one hurting by open wounds.

You looked at the crystal bottles on your hand and then over to your friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hyun, it’s okay… They’ll look cute on your hands!” you extended your hand over to her, asking for her own without actually saying the words. “You trust me, don’t you?”

The girl looked at you for a second before turning back to the bottles and then again you, a small smile began to decorate her lips.

Nail polish, bracelets, necklaces, hair pins, small earrings, any type of accessory Hyunju would look for longer than three seconds you made your mission to get for her, since your teenage years all the way up to your adult life. You’ve known each other for a handful of years, being there for her at any moment, it didn’t matter the rain, thunder or lightning, you were usually a call away from her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You don’t need that, let them have their fuckass pillow.” you took it from her hand and threw it back to the old couple at the entrance of the house.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Be respectful of your elders, young lady!” the man screamed while the woman was crying, you stopped loading with the few things Hyunju took from her parents house and looked back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Me? You’re talking to me?” before you could take any further steps, the tall woman took you by the shoulders to pull you. “I don’t need to respect shitty people!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let’s go, please,” the woman begged with a shaky voice. “I want to go. Let’s just go.”

At any time of the day, one call away from her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Cho Hyunju,” your voice answered the nurse asking, the number of her room was given and only because you were already scolded you didn’t run to her.

Sitting in a hospital bed, Hyunju turned her face to you when the door was suddenly open. “I’m sorry.” was all she could say with a worried look you two shared. “The car…”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “The car is the least of my worries, you scared me, who was the idiot who hit you?” your feet were quick to get closer to her. “What did the doctors say?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That I’m okay, I can go home tomorrow… I mean, today in a couple of hours.” she corrected herself after remembering how it was almost four in the morning.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Next time you have cravings for food you wake me up and we’ll go together, okay?” your hand left ephemeral caresses on her face, fearing you’d hurt her.

In her bad and her worst.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I say we ask for a loan under your father’s name.” you tried to joke, cutting the meat and giving her more pieces of it. When looking up at her face, you sighed at her anxious grimace. “Hyunju, don’t worry about it now, we’ll figure out how to pay our debts.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Three hundred and thirty million…” she let out on a distracted tone, you stopped cutting the meat, letting the sizzling sound of it cooking be the only one on your table.

You left the utensils on the table and reached for her hand, leaving caresses with your thumb. “We’ll get the money, okay? We may have to eat store bought ramen for a couple of months, but we will pay off your debt.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What about your debts?” she asked quickly, resting her other hand on top of the one she was holding.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I’ll figure it out, it’s not the end of the world. There’s people who live in debt until they die… Maybe I’ll be one of those, who knows? There’s worse ways to live.” you shrugged and winked at her. “Now, let’s eat this delicious meat we got ourselves by getting slapped by a weird man!”

With a more relaxed giggled, Hyunju took the chopsticks by her side so you two could start to eat.

You’d been approached by the salesman with such a curious offer, both of you had gotten a card with a number on it and had decided to decline the offer to play games. Sure, it was easy money, but what was the catch of it? You wouldn’t risk your lives just because you were offered easy money to pay off all your debts… Right?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I would like to file a missing person report.” you said to the policeman on the entrance of the station, your hands shaking and even in fear you tried to stay composed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Name?” the man asked while reaching for a board with papers.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Cho, Cho Hyunju.” you answered quickly, looking at his hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “When was the last time you saw her?” he asked now in such a monotone voice that made you mad.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Last night.” you answered back, the police’s eyes looked up to you like you were joking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That’s not even twenty-four hours, you need to wait.” your heart stopped, what?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, no, no, you have to be kidding. You have to do something! She lives with me, she went missing last night! She never came back home!” you spoke so fast without even stumbling on your words that even you surprised yourself. “Her phone is off, you have to do something!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Twenty-four hours.” he repeated while looking directly into your eyes. “Next in line!”

Hyunju was better than that, she wouldn’t go to this sketchy recruitment call for some sketchy games, right? She definitely wasn’t so desperate… Was she?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hi, excuse me. Have you seen this woman?” you’d approach strangers with a photo of Hyunju displaying on your phone.

Most people would look at the picture for a split second and shake their heads, others wouldn’t even turn their eyes to you. You wouldn’t blame them, life was chaotic for everyone.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hyunju, it’s me again… Please call me, I’m still waiting for you.” a quick message was said after the robotic box asked you to leave a message. “I want to know if you’re okay.”

Your days would consist of hiding from your creditors asking for their money and going through every hospital asking for the woman, if she was in any room or… or at any morgue, praying you wouldn’t have to recognize her body, feeling nauseous every time you were taken to the morgue only to feel at ease when you didn’t recognize the poor woman on the table.

You would go after to the police station asking for any updates for the report, not missing a second, the police officer in charge already knew you by the amount of times you have gone to the station, everytime you crossed gazed he simply shook his head.

The nights were the hardest to deal with, you tried to stay out of your house as much as possible, only coming back to sleep and shower. Usually when you opened the door you immediately regretted it, almost turning back out. In your bed there were a couple of clothes that still smelled like her that you liked to keep close to, others had run out of her scent and it made you feel empty.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Why don't you just move out?” one of your few friends asked one day when you wouldn’t go home.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That’s her home too…” you whispered while playing with a piece of cloth. “What if she comes back one day?”

What if she comes back? What if she doesn’t have anywhere to stay? What if she looks for you? What if, what if, what if. Your life circled around those questions ever since that day.

What if you told her you loved her? Would she still go to those games? Would she tell you she loved you back? Could the confession of your deepest secrets make her stay by your side? Would she run away regardless? Even if you tried to think like Hyunju, you couldn’t find any coherent answers to your thousands of questions and she was gone now, you were completely left alone to deal with your own feelings and broken heart.

Maybe time will help you heal, there was a chance that things could get better. But, would they really get better? At some point, were you able to rebuild your life without her after building it around Hyunju? Maybe time will make things worse, maybe picking up the pieces of your heart would result in a deep cut which you wouldn't be able to heal from and there was no one to blame, there was no good or bad side of the story, you were sure Hyunju had her reasons, but why did it hurt so bad? You felt like someone had taken the air out of your lungs and now? Now not a single soul could help you out, you were completely alone.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Rowdy Neighbors

Paul lahote x fem reader

Description: you moved into your own home. Your life has turned calm and easy. One day, the empty house next door became occupied with Paul Lahote. His friends are always there and they're loud! They keep you up sometimes. You and Paul do talk often. He brings your mail to you on rainy days. He comes over to see if you're okay. He imprinted on you, but you have no idea.

Warnings: language, the end is cute as heck, Paul is such a gentleman

☆☆☆☆

You're on your couch with a throw blanket draped over you. You have your laptop open on your lap. You're relaxing and sipping some wine.

Your doorbell rings.

You smile, knowing exactly who it is. It's that sexy ass neighbor you got. You close your laptop and place it on the couch and stand up. You make your way to the door and open it.

There he is, smirking and leaning on your doorframe. He's shirtless even though it's 50 degrees out. "Morning, beautiful." He says.

You blush and nearly buckle your knees. "Good morning, Paul. Need something?" You move away from the door to let him in.

He shakes his head and doesn't come inside. "Nah, just came to ask a question real quick." He smiles.

"Okay? What you got?" You lean your head on the door, looking in his beautiful brown eyes.

He stares for a moment, seeming lost. But, he coughs and comes back to life. "My boys are coming tonight. Yes, I know you hate that they're loud, and I'm sorry. I can't control them..." He chuckles.

You just shake your head with a smile.

"Anyway, my question is, do you want to come hang out? We're gonna sit outside with a fire and music." He looks at you with hopeful eyes.

You stare into those eyes. The hope, the silent small beg.. you can't say no. "Yes. I'll join you guys. So, uh, any girls gonna be there?" You chuckle awkwardly. "I don't want to be the only girl."

He laughs, his chest moving. He shakes his head. "You're so adorable.. uh.." He looks down and chuckles. "There's gonna be a couple of girls. One named Kim and the other Emily. You'll love them." He bites his lip.

"Ah, okay! Well, I'm down to chill then." You tilt your head with a smile.

"Wow, there for the ladies, huh." He smirks. "You swing that way? Am I not hot enough for you?" He places a hand on his chest in fake hurt.

You bust into laughter, throwing your head back. "Trust me, Paul Lahote. You're.." You stop, blushing. You take a deep breath in and exhale. "I'm not there for them. It's just an added bonus that I can have some girl talk." You smile.

He stares at you, his eyes twinkling. His cheeks turn a small peach color, and he slowly smiles. "Y-yeah! I'll see you then."

----

You shove your hands in your hoodie, walking through the short grass to the house a few feet from yours.

The fire is up, and there's a group of people. The usual guys you occasionally see. The music is blaring, and it's constant hooting, yelling, a couple guys wrestling.

You spot the two girls sitting in lawn chairs and laughing. Perfect! You make your way towards them but Paul steps up.

"Beautiful, you made it." He smiles and wraps his arm around you.

You playfully lean into him and look up at him. "Sure did!" You smell his cologne and deodorant. "You smell good." You instantly jump at your own words and blush. It came out on its own. It wasn't up to you!

Paul chuckles and pulls you into him. He leans down to your ear. "Thanks, pretty girl." His breath hits your ear and neck.

Your eyes widen, and your heart picks up its speed.

"Hey girl! Over here!" One of the girls yells to you and pats the empty chair beside her. You notice the scars on her face, but you don't judge.

Paul lets you go. "Have fun." He winks and walks towards the loud group of guys.

You make your way over and sit down. "Hey! I'm-"

The girl with the scars stops you. "Trust me. We know! Paul never shuts up about you." She smiles and extends her hand. "Emily."

You blush and smile.. your heart flutters. You take her hand, shaking gently. You turn to the other girl. She pulls her beet away from her lips and holds out her hand with a cute smile.

You smile back, giggling, and shake her hand.

"Kim! I'm glad you came! Paul wasn't lying. You're stunning." She smiles.

You giggle again and shake your head. "You girls are beautiful. Thanks, Kim!"

Paul runs up to you and reaches his hand out. "Beautiful! Let me get you to meet everyone." He smiles.

The night went on, you've met all of his friends and had an amazing time. You haven't asked questions on why they're all shirtless in 40-degree weather. You also haven't asked about the tattoo. But you assume it's their native tribe symbol.

----

The next night, you're tired. It was a tough day with work, and you're so over it. You're freshly showered. You turn on your fan and heater, and you're now laid up in bed.

Then, you hear them. The loud music, the rowdy boys. You're too tired for this. It's keeping you awake. As expected, you get a bit cranky. You text Paul to 'please, quiet down.'

You hear the music die down to a point where you don't hear it anymore. You sigh of relief, and your phone buzzes.

Paul: Sorry, beautiful. I fixed it.

---

You walk inside your house after your shift. It's dark outside, and your house is dimly lit. You take off your shoes and get ready to walk into the bedroom when you hear something fall in the kitchen.

You pause. Fear.

You hear shuffling. Movements.

Your heart picks up, and you slowly take a step forward. You see some stuff scattered. You hear something move again in the kitchen.

You freak out and you slip your shoes on and run next door. You knock on the door. "Paul!" You call out in a panic.

Paul opens the door, and he looks down at you worriedly. He gently grabs your wrists. "Hey, hey.. what's wrong?" He asks.

"There's someone in my house." You whisper in fear.

He raises an eyebrow and his jaw clenches. "Okay, beautiful. I've got you." He walks out of his house and then walks through his yard toward your house.

You follow behind him cautiously.

"Hey, no. Go back to my house." He whispers to you as you both get to your porch.

"No.." You whisper back.

He sighs and then opens the door. As soon as he does, he smells it. He smiles and then chuckles. He walks inside, leaves the door open, and goes into the kitchen. Low and behold, it's a raccoon digging in your kitchen.

You slowly walk inside, in shock that Paul just walked in! "Paul!" You whisper yell.

"Beautiful, it's a raccoon." He laughs.

You walk into the kitchen to see him holding it. He turns around to the door that is beside your kitchen. He opens it and lets it outside. As he closes the door, he looks down.

Paul kicks the doggy door and laughs. "I'll screw that shut."

Now, you're embarrassed as hell. You sigh and cover your face. "God... thank you, Paul." You groan. You move your hands as he begins to clean up the mess. "I'm so sorry for wasting your time." You bend down, picking up jars and cans.

Paul chuckles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "It's not a big deal, beautiful. I'm just glad you felt comfortable enough to come get me." He smiles in thought.

After a few minutes of cleaning up, you both sit on the couch. You make him tea for his troubles and sit down beside him.

"Again, I'm sorry." You giggle awkwardly.

He shakes his head and takes the tea. "Don't stress over it. It made my night." He smiles and sips the glass. He places it down and looks at you again. He's admiring your features, and he reaches out to push your hair behind your ear. "If a raccoon is one excuse to get me to see you, I'm really not bothered." His eyes search yours.

His gaze sends you in a trance. Your breathing picks up. You can't look away. You feel as if you're being pulled closer to him. You didn't realize that you were leaning in until his hand grips your chin to stop you. Your eyes focus again, and you notice how close both of your faces are. His fingers send fire through you as they hold your chin.

"I want to kiss you so badly, but if I start.. I'm afraid I won't stop." He looks in your eyes.

"Then don't." The words did not even try to stay in your mouth.

"I have to leave in a minute." He whispers. He has to go out and patrol, but he can't tell you that. And he knows that if he kisses you, his instincts as a shifter who imprinted will not be able to stop. He feels like he's lost control in this moment. He's so stuck on what to do.

You nod your head and pull your face out of his hand. It felt like hell doing that. "Where do you have to go?" You ask.

"Work." He smiles softly and caresses your cheek.

You lean forward and gently press your lips on his. He is shocked as the connection sparks like electricity. It was as if your kiss fixed a circuit in his brain. One hand finds your waist while the other moves to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. His lips move with yours, slowly opening and closing but not using too much tongue. He knows if the kiss escalates, Sam is going to chew his ass.

But, you decide to be kind and let the man go to work. You pull away and press your forehead on his. "Go to work, Paul. When you come back," you look in his eyes and smile, "I expect a date." You giggle.

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. "Deal."

[aventurineswife]

What about...

Aven with a reader that is insecure about how they look with some clothes?

Example: Aven bought the reader a suit/dress and when they prove it, they look in the mirror and they felt insecure, but Aven thinks they look beautiful. He comforts reader, telling them how beautiful they are. 🤭

Reflections of Beauty

Summary: When Aventurine gifts you an exquisite outfit, your insecurities threaten to overshadow the moment. As you stand before the mirror, doubting your reflection, Aventurine's words of comfort and his unwavering adoration remind you of your worth. Through his playful yet heartfelt encouragement, he helps you see yourself in a new light.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Body Positivity, Self-Esteem Issues, Reassurance, Soft Aventurine.

Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt and insecurity, Brief internal negative self-talk (resolved with comfort), Pure fluff!

A/N: I NEED AN AVEN IN MY LIFE!! 😭🥺

Aventurine lounged back on a plush velvet chaise in his opulent quarters, flipping a gold coin idly between his fingers. "Hurry up, darling," he called with a teasing lilt. "If you take any longer, I'll think you’ve gone shy on me."

You stood before the gilded mirror, frozen in place. The dress/suit—no, the masterpiece Aventurine had insisted on buying—hugged your form like it was made of liquid moonlight. Every detail, from the delicate embroidery to the way the fabric shimmered, screamed luxury. But all you could see were the imperfections it highlighted.

“This… doesn’t look right,” you muttered, tugging at the hem. The mirror reflected your uncertainty, amplifying it. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t enough for something so exquisite.

“Aven,” you called softly, “I don’t think this works for me.”

He was on his feet before you could blink, sauntering over with his usual feline grace. His eyes gleamed with curiosity and amusement as he stopped just behind you, his warm breath tickling your ear.

“Doesn’t work for you?” he repeated, his tone a mix of disbelief and mock scandal. His hands came to rest lightly on your shoulders, fingers brushing against the fabric. “Darling, have you seen yourself? You’re stunning.”

You shook your head, averting your gaze. “I don’t feel that way. It—it clings too much here. And my arms—”

His laughter was soft, warm, and oddly reassuring. “Oh, you sweet, silly thing,” he murmured, turning you gently by the shoulders to face the mirror again. His hands slid down your arms, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as they came to rest at your wrists. “You’re focusing on all the wrong things.”

He tilted his head, eyes meeting yours through the reflection. “Look again. Do you see how the color brings out the sparkle in your eyes? And the way it flows—it’s as if the stars themselves decided to wrap around you.”

You frowned, still unconvinced. “But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “You don’t have to see it yet, but I do. And I think you’re the most breathtaking sight in the room. No, the universe.”

Your cheeks heated at his words, but a small part of you wanted to believe him. “You’re just saying that.”

He sighed dramatically, spinning you to face him. “If I were just saying that, would I do this?” He took a step back, placing a hand over his heart in mock reverence. “I, Aventurine of Stratagems, Gambler Extraordinaire and Connoisseur of Beauty, hereby declare you utterly perfect.”

The way he said it, so solemn yet playful, coaxed a reluctant laugh out of you. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to resist,” he countered with a wink, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Listen to me, darling,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “I’ve lived through more than you could imagine, and I’ve learned one thing: true beauty isn’t about perfection. It’s about confidence, about wearing your flaws like they’re a crown.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your skin. “And you, my dear, wear it all so well.”

You hesitated, but his words warmed something inside you. Maybe, just maybe, you could see yourself the way he did—if only for a moment.

“Thank you, Aven.” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“Anytime,” he replied, his lips curving into a genuine smile. “Now, shall we?” He gestured to the door. “Let the world see what I already know: that you’re nothing short of extraordinary.”

Hand in hand, you let him lead you out, his confidence and adoration bolstering your own. For the first time that night, you caught a glimpse of the beauty he saw in you.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Simon Kalivoda - In a Relationship

warning : kiss, fluff, tiny hurt/comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°It was love at first sight for the blond when he saw you for the first time, he couldn't suppress the love-struck grin on his lips, you were just too beautiful. Above all, the school mascot couldn't be stopped from trying to get you to notice him, from letters in class that went to you, to handing in the muffin from the cafeteria that was the best and mostly the only edible one. Or his favorite was when he brought a movie. After endless attempts, how can you say no to a guy like Simon?

°From the moment you first met, he seemed to never stop loving you. Not a day went by when you didn't see him smiling, his head in his hands, looking at you dreamily. ,,You're just so pretty,” he always defended himself when you told him he could leave it alone, and at first you thought he was trying to get rid of you...no chance, Simon didn't leave your side. Why should he when he had the most beautiful girl in town and could hold her hand.

°Wherever you go or drive, he entertains you with his jokes, movie facts and maybe a few pills, although this only spurs him on more to give you compliments. ,,Even if your hand fell off, I'd still hold it,” he said during a car ride when he traced your knuckles with his fingers. Simon just loved holding your hand or both hands, feeling your warmth and life. A warmth that he always radiated, even the metal of his rings seemed to warm up.

°When it's getting cooler, he'll look forward to movie dates, buy snacks and wear his witch makeup or go as a character from one of the movies, ,,Welcome to Simon's fantastic movie empire, my sweet,” he opened the door while wearing a blue overall and his hair was more disheveled than usual, and she guessed Michael Myers, which she was right about. The sweet thing about Simon, was that he was so fascinated by horror movies and popped one popcorn after the other, he jumped at a jump scare, took your hand and clung to you, laughing, ,,My sweet protector,” he said, embarrassed, as he slowly climbed off you after jumping into your lap.

°Just because Simon was quite jumpy and excited, it didn't mean that he didn't have quiet moments. In fact, especially in the evening when the sun had not yet set, he was often calmer, enjoying a warm cocoa with you, sitting on his bed, he rummaged for his black nail polish, ,,I'll make you even more beautiful, trust me, it'll look great,” he said encouragingly and wiped a strand behind his ear before turning up the small cap and gently taking her hand. The determined look in his blue eyes, the way he pushed his hair back and the broad smile when he was finished were worth it all by themselves.

°But as loud as he could be, he was also embarrassed when you kissed him, whether it was a kiss on the cheek that made his cheeks turn pink or on the lips and he put his hand on your side, held you gently and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment, ,,I love you so fricking much,” he told you. Simon was completely relaxed about intimacy and appreciated every little touch, from holding hands to a gentle to intense kiss. As long as he was with you, felt you or even saw you smile, his heart melted immediately.

°Even in rather dark moments, when he had taken too much drugs mixed with alcohol, you stayed by his side when he threw up in the toilet, but always held your hand, casting a grateful glance at your pale face that you would not forget him like others and that you saw him as so much more than just the drug dealer or the school bully. But even in those painful moments, from your period to bad shitty days, he was by your side, either giving you space or closeness with snatches and cuddles, without which there was always something that calmed him down.

°Even small gestures like helping him with the witch make-up, a couple costume for Halloween or the easy braiding of his hair strands into which small colorful ribbons were laid were activities that showed him how close you were. This naturalness between you, the love that lay in the exchanged glances, the kisses that ended with a broad smile or just having the other with you was simply the most romantic thing you could have in Shadyside.

°His favorite nicknames for you are: Heart, Sweetie, Witch, Goddess

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii

[playgrl0]

baby girl / nanami

wc: 1154

!! not proof read, sorry. + i'm dead, bye !!

! reblogs and comments/feedback are greatly appreciated! they motivate me to continue writing! :)

-

the cry of your baby daughter interrupts your beautiful dream. with a small sigh you sit up and stretch, throwing the covers aside and before you can fully get up, a warm hand rests on your shoulder, stopping you. it's kento's hand, of course. you look over to him, a brow raised. "i'll take care of her. go back to sleep, love." he presses a small kiss to your shoulder and then gets up to go into your daughters room which is right across from yours. you smile, laying back down and getting comfortable beneath the sheets again. it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again.

kento takes your crying baby girl out of her crib and holds her close to his bare chest. he sits down in the rocking chair that's next to her crib, a small night light softly illuminating the room. he slowly rocks in the chair and gently rubs her back, humming a random melody. she calms down a few moments later and falls asleep quickly. kento chuckles to himself and softly kisses her forehead. he stares down at her tiny body and thinks back to the moment you told him you were pregnant. it is without a doubt one of the happiest moments of his life right after his daughters birth of course. when you told him that you were pregnant, kento wasn't scared for even a second. you are both secure and stable financially, so secure in your relationship and he knew you would be the best parents. the amount of love that spilled out of his body the second you showed him the positive pregnancy test was so overwhelming and he'll never forget the way he felt. he never thought he would be able to love like this, until his daughter was born and the love he felt not just for her but also for you, grew even stronger.

when she was born, kento cried happy tears. he didn't try to hide them or hold them back and he let all his emotions out while he held her against his chest during their first skin-to-skin contact. his tears were dripping down his throat and collarbones and he always made sure to wipe them away before they'd fall onto his daughters face. he swore he would never hurt her. he will love her unconditionally until the end of time. protect her from any harm. accept her always for who she is and who she will become. he'll always, always be there for her and he hopes to be his daughters first love. that he can show her to never settle for the bare minimum because she deserves the entire universe.

it was almost impossible to take his eyes off of her in her first moments and it is still almost impossible now. kento doesn't notice you coming into the room. you're standing next to the rocking chair, gently smiling at the scene next to you. you slowly and softly put your hand on his shoulder, hoping not to startle him. "kento?" he looks up at you with a small smile. "are you okay, love?" he asks. you nod and lean down to kiss his forehead. "i'm okay, are you? you've been gone for a while. thought i'd check on you." you answer him with a yawn. his smile grows as he listens to your tired, quiet voice and he grabs your hand, placing a soft kiss onto your knuckles. "i'm more than okay. she went back to sleep a few minutes after i picked her up but i kinda got lost in thought, i guess." he replies, looking at his baby girl again. she's sleeping with her mouth open, a bit of drool escaping at the side of her mouth. you both chuckle and you take your finger to softly wipe it away. "she's so beautiful." he whispers. "she is." you agree. she has kento's beautiful brown eyes and your nose and the smile is definitely yours as well. she doesn't have much hair yet but the small amount of hair on top of her head is the same color as kento's.

"you know," kento interrupts the silence. "one of the things i love most about her is that she was created purely out of love. all of your and my love for each other mixed together and created this beautiful life. she's living proof of our love and she's the most beautiful soul to ever exist. i love you both immensely." he confesses while still staring at his daughter, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. when you don't respond he looks over at you, looking down at your baby as well but tears are running down your soft cheeks. he takes his thumb and wipes them away. "you okay?" he asks a bit concerned. you nod, sniffling and wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him as close into your side as the rocking chair lets you. "it's just, what you said was sweet. and, you're right. she is our love and she's the most beautiful angel. i love her so much." you lean down to carefully and gently kiss your babies head. "and i love you too, ken. i love you so much." kento smiles and softly kisses your lips for a few moments.

he pulls away and wipes the last tear from your cheek. "we should go back to sleep, you must be tired." he says. you nod and stand up fully again, stretching your arms. "let's take her with us, i want to cuddle her." you yawn as he stands up slowly. he couldn't say no to that. you both walk back into your bedroom where you get in bed first. kento hands you the baby and gets in next to you leaving a small empty space between you both so your daughter can lay there. you hold her for a few more moments, holding her close against your chest and gently rubbing her back. when you hear kento yawn next to you, you put her down in the space kento left for her and he pulls the blanket over all of you. you both lay on your sides, facing each other and your baby. kento wraps his arm as best as he can around your hip, your legs tangled together and it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep again.

kento smiles, he can't believe this is his life. his happy, peaceful life with his two girls by his side. his entire world right here next to him. he gently kisses the tiny, soft cheek of his baby girl and softly squeezes your hip every once in a while. he continues to look at his daughter for a while and doesn't notice his eyes closing and falling asleep. he dreams about having another baby with you and he'll definitely talk to you about it in the morning.

<3 @ playgrl0

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

   "Hello, Si-"

  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

    "Where is your family?"

    "I'm sorry?"

   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

     "I must admit... a bit."

    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

    "Really?"

    "Mhm."

      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

      "Mingi—"

    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 

     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

    And he absolutely revels in it.

    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 

    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

    "If it is, we would be silly together."

     "You mean-"

    "Yes."

    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

   They share a look.

    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 

     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

      "Buck."

   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

   "That's what's gonna happen."

   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

     He puts a bullet in his brain.

     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

     And then all is silent.

    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 

     "What the hell was that, boy?"

     "That was me saving your ass."

༄

    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

     Because he was the gunner.

    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

    WANTED.

    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

    The door to the bar swings open.

   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

    "Mingi..."

    "Are you okay, Doll?"

   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

     They don't know that Mingi was the one.

     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

     "Why not?"

   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"

    "Too close."

    "Just give me my mon-"

       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

    It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

   Mingi is so deep.

   Mingi is so thick.

   Mingi fucks you so good.

   Mingi treats you so good.

   Mingi loves you.

   Mingi.

   Mingi.

      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

    "You did... but I liked it."

    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

     "Mrs. Song."

༄

[fen-luciel]

Hurt

Thanks to @driksss for the idea:

[I loved your story

please

write a story in which the reader accidentally hurts herself during training and qimir feels guilty and takes care of her injuries]

Warnings: description of injuries/light smut/sub Qimir

"Again" I ordered, with my lightsaber on.

Qimir grumbled, his butt on the ground "Can I take a break?" he complained, getting up and brushing the dirt off his pants, the lightsaber at his feet.

"Come on, Qimir. At least until sunset, as usual. I'll cook tonight" I tried to cheer him up with a bright expression, but he didn't seem particularly pleased.

"It's just that... never mind" he called his lightsaber back to him before starting to walk. "But let's move from here. The ground keeps making me slip, I can't stand it anymore." I sighed but followed him without protest, my saber now off and at my belt.

I silently watched his back as we walked. We were both terribly sweaty, the forest was humid and the afternoon sun was dry, not to mention we had been training for hours. The tank top I wore was now clinging to me, and the loose pants that reached my knees were soaked with dirt, grass, mud, and sweat.

Qimir looked just as worn out, to the point where he had cut off the sleeves of his shirt with his lightsaber for some extra air.

His back was drenched in sweat, and my first instinct was to tease him, but things were tense between us.

It had been an uphill journey for us, friends, colleagues, and now master and acolyte.

Unfortunately, we were still working on the last part, especially considering how we were indirectly or directly... intimate.

I sighed.

I knew it was a bad idea.

But now, telling him to end it seemed even worse.

We kept training for at least a couple more hours, and honestly, I couldn't stand it anymore.

He kept making stupid mistakes, tripping over branches, getting distracted, it was infuriating.

We stood on top of some trees, the first pink and orange lights of sunset coloring the landscape. It would have been almost romantic if we weren't two Banthas soaked and dirty with earth. We definitely needed a shower.

We jumped from branch to branch, red against red, our bodies pulsing with fatigue. The goal was to get him used to more exhausting rhythms, but it was useless if two times out of three I had to divert my own stroke because he was too distracted to dodge them.

"If you're so bored, you could have spared me the trouble of paying attention to you today!" I finally snapped, and without even thinking, I crouched in a fluid motion, aiming at the thick branch under his feet and cutting it diagonally. Whether he was surprised by my shout or the move, I couldn't say, but he lost his balance, one foot slipping on the moss covering the tree, and he began to fall.

I had time to glance at him a little longer and realize my colossal mistake.

Below us, there weren't just a few meters separating us from the ground, we had gradually moved deeper into the forest, where the trees grew denser and taller, and the branches we were on directly overlooked a small cliff crossed by a stream. Qimir was about to fall into it like a sack of potatoes.

I reached out with my hand, pulling him towards me with the Force, just enough to grab his wrist in the panic of the moment. I managed to pull him up, but in doing so, I lost my balance. My other hand still held the lightsaber uselessly, and I began to fall.

I saw him as he clung to the branch where I had been seconds earlier. I instinctively turned off the lightsaber as I plummeted. Qimir reached out to stop me, but in a mix of fatigue and panic, he only managed to slow the inevitable. He lost his grip, and I crashed down the last few meters, finally rolling into the shallow stream.

I hissed as a ringing filled my ears, my body on fire as I tensed my muscles. I couldn't tell if I'd broken something in the process, but I was sure I was bleeding—I could feel it on me, and the stream wasn't deep enough to get me this wet.

I struggled to open my eyes, my vision dark at the edges as I tried to focus around me. I couldn't see Qimir, but I assumed he was about to come down, so I looked at myself, and it was bad.

Nothing seemed unnaturally bent, but I was bleeding profusely. My legs, arms, torso, not to mention the dull pain I felt throughout my body—if nothing was broken, I'd at least sprained something. Qimir's brief intervention had prevented the worst, but I was still in danger.

"Force, wait, i'm here"

I looked up to see Qimir sliding down the cliff before making one last jump near me, panic in his eyes as he looked at me, breathing heavily. "Come on, damn it, okay, I've got this-" he stammered as he knelt beside me, his trembling hands searching for a wound that wasn't even visible due to the blood scattered everywhere.

"Calm down, Qimir—" I tried to reassure him with a hoarse voice before grabbing his wrist. "I need you to carry me, so try to concentrate" He shot me a wide-eyed glance and nodded. He quickly stood up to retrieve my lightsaber, which had fallen a few meters ahead, and after recovering it, he came back to pick me up. It was quite complicated to get me onto his shoulders, everything burned, and while I could somewhat move my arms, I certainly didn't have the strength to pull myself up or bend my legs. He practically had to lie down next to me so I could roll onto him and slowly drag myself onto his back. Once he ensured I was in a stable position, he began to run toward the base.

I don't know exactly how much time passed—I hadn't noticed how deep we were in the forest, and we reached our shelter on the edge of the woods when it was already pitch dark. I kept myself awake by sheer miracle, more to keep Qimir from panicking than anything else, as he seemed on the verge of a panic attack, mumbling something I couldn't hear well and was too exhausted to ask him to speak up.

We had rented a house for a while nearby—a woodland retreat for those who wanted a nature getaway. We were there to train undisturbed, which wasn't in our favor now that we actually needed to be near civilization to call for help.

Qimir opened the door, quickly closing it behind us and heading straight for the bathroom with determined steps. "We have some medicine, but I don't know how much it can help" I could only let out a laughing breath. "I told you we'd regret not stopping by the store"

He shook his head but said nothing more, letting me slide to the floor beside the tub where I collapsed without strength.

I kept my eyes half-closed—the bathroom light seemed to burn my eyes. "Turn it off, please" I whispered wearily, hearing him rummaging through the bottles behind the sink's glass. He grabbed what he needed before turning off the main light, leaving only the dim secondary one on.

"Swallow these—one for the pain, and the other to make sure no infections develop... we only have one more, so tomorrow we need to get you to a doctor" I swallowed them, thankful for the miracles of bacta that might help me get through this.

"Now, I'm going to put you in the tub and heal you with the Force, okay?"

He began to open my robe with trembling hands, and I chuckled. "Don't be shy, it's not like you haven't seen me before" but he didn't find it as funny, given the glare he shot me.

I didn't feel uncomfortable being naked—I had never had too many problems about it, just as he didn't with me, and besides, given my overall condition, neither of us was really focused on anything else. Qimir turned on the hot water in the tub and started to undress.

"We haven't tried this before. You're brave tonight" I noted with poorly concealed amusement and a tired voice.

"Stop it. I need to wash you, and I can't afford for you to slip in the tub."

I muttered something, but I felt my strength leaving me. "I really need to close my eyes for a bit" I whispered as he grabbed me under the armpits and moved me into the tub, which was filling with hot water. I hissed at the sensation—the pills were beginning to numb my nerves, but the dull pain I felt would continue for a while. The warmth of the tub was pleasant, but it burned my skin, and within seconds, the water had already taken on a brownish-red color.

"I've got you, don't worry" Qimir's voice near my ear made me shiver, though I hoped he hadn't noticed. Once he made sure I was in a safe position, he leaned over to grab the soap "Qimir. I really need to close my eyes" I said in an increasingly faint voice. I saw his lips move, his expression worried, but I couldn't hear his words, and I passed out.

When I opened my eyes, I was still in the tub.

The first thing I heard was my heavy breathing filling the small bathroom. The water around me was strangely clean. I raised a hand to rub my eyes and noticed how wrinkled my skin was, a sign that I had been here for a while.

I caught a glimpse of the long abrasion wounds covering my arms when, from behind, a hand gently took mine—Qimir's hand.

"It's okay, I'm here." His rough voice in my ear was enough to finally understand what was happening.

He had sat behind me in the tub, resting me against his chest. I was so confused that I hadn't noticed his head next to mine.

I turned my gaze towards him, realizing how close we were. He seemed more relaxed and calm now, his eyes fixed on mine, and a sad smile on his lips.

“You’ve been out of it for a while" his tone was still low and slow. This time, the trembling in my body was obvious, but he misunderstood the reaction, as he gently slid us a bit deeper into the warm water.

“You washed your hair” I noted with poorly concealed amusement and a tired voice.

He chuckled with a smile. “And for the record, I washed yours too” I giggled, followed by him, the atmosphere much more relaxed now, although a slight glance outside the tub made me notice the dried blood on the floor.

But I was feeling better.

I think.

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, still feeling dizzy and tired, but the movement was terrible. Though I appeared better on the outside, inside, I was still a mess. I couldn’t tell if the pills had already worn off or if they weren’t strong enough from the start. “Take it easy, I... I haven’t healed you yet” Qimir admitted, tightening an arm under my chest in a hug.

I murmured in confusion, and he sighed. “I... can’t. I took some time to relax and clean us up. I’m feeling better, but... I can’t focus” the discomfort was evident in his tone.

I couldn’t really blame him, it wasn’t such a common power, and during his years as a Jedi, it seemed to have remained dormant, now forcing him to train it from scratch.

Unfortunately, I could only help him from a theoretical standpoint, which made the learning process slower than usual, but he was gradually improving.

“It’s the first time you’ve tried with internal trauma and not external injuries. Not to mention it’s much more complex than the small cuts you’ve been practicing on until now. You need to relax” I murmured against the skin of his neck, my eyes closed as I pressed more gently against his chest.

I could feel the tremor in his heavy sigh through the contact between our bodies. I moved our still intertwined hands to my stomach, while the free hand moved to the side of his face in a gentle caress. I left a slow kiss on his neck before slightly lifting myself up so that my lips were at the height of his ear.

“Do you want to make me feel good, Qimir?” I asked sweetly, looking at him. He had closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly upwards. I released his hand to rest it on my stomach.

“Y-yes” he stammered in response.

“Then breathe. And focus on me.” I kissed his jaw a couple of times, leaving a slight trail of saliva along his skin. His chest rose and fell deeply, dragging my body along with his as our breaths synchronized “Good boy.”

There was a moment of silence before a pleasant warmth began to soothe my aching muscles and bones. I only let it go on for a few seconds, worried he might overdo it. “Slowly now, we both need our strength” I moved his hand away from me, caressing the back of it. He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to meet mine, his lips slightly parted as his heartbeat quickened in his chest.

He leaned in towards my lips, but I pulled away with a small smile. “Slowly now” The disappointment was clear in his features, his dark irises, and the moisture in his eyes seemed to burn me alive.

“I really need to get out of the water” I whispered against his lips before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Keep being good, and maybe I’ll give you a reward later.”

This seemed to cheer him up, and we moved to get out of the tub. Unfortunately, Qimir couldn’t help me as much as he would have liked; my body was still in constant pain, though much more manageable than before. All the wounds on my arms and legs had stopped bleeding but needed to be bandaged.

We took a brief walk to the bedroom in a somewhat ridiculous manner. I was still in pain, and Qimir had used some of his energy to heal my bones, so he was feeling as tired as I was.

“Wait, I want to sit down” I said, letting myself fall into the armchair next to the bed with a sigh.

“Okay. One last effort. And then we’ll sleep” he said, picking up the kit that was already on the bed. I glanced at him sideways as he sat down next to me and started covering the cuts with soft, bacta-soaked bandages. They couldn’t completely heal the wounds, but at least I would sleep more peacefully.

A few seconds passed before he spoke “I’m sorry. It was my fault” his voice rough and low as he kept his gaze fixed on what he was doing, the room dimly lit only by the moonlight outside.

“Nonsense. I wasn’t careful” I replied, looking at the ceiling.

So much had happened in just a few hours that I had almost forgotten how it all started, and as much as the dynamic still irritated me, I was partly responsible.

I should have just talked to him.

“Stop it. I... you’re right to be mad at me” I looked at his bowed head, avoiding my gaze. Slowly, he knelt in front of me, and I couldn’t help but blush a little seeing him between my legs, the wounds long forgotten.

“We both made mistakes—” I began, but he shook his head. I saw the way his jaw clenched when he was nervous, and I bit my lips in response. He was finally opening up to me, and I was getting distracted.

I was hopeless.

“No. I was distracted. I deserved a lesson, but you were too kind to me” his long, slender fingers gently held my ankle as he carefully tightened the bandage up to my thigh.

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“Distracted by what, anyway? You’ve been doing well lately” I tried to focus on his words, but even his tone sent a shiver between my legs, and not being able to rub them together was even worse.

A few seconds passed. He finished the bandages completely before raising his gaze to me, and I almost lost my breath.

He looked at me with those dark, deep eyes, which unsettled my stomach.

Kneeling between my legs, I felt terribly vulnerable given the weakness of my limbs, not to mention he was wearing a loose shirt that allowed me to see part of his smooth chest from above.

I knew what he was about to say.

Our relationship had inevitably solidified into something much more than just a simple friendship or brotherhood due to the time spent together.

I didn’t know if it was I who had seduced him first or if he had fallen at my feet.

But we liked it.

The only thing was that Qimir had still been a Jedi, and now his experiences were limited, if not non-existent. He wanted to learn, but he felt awkward, so he often behaved like a wounded puppy, using some excuse to put his hands on me and feel less pathetic for begging for my more experienced touch.

“By you. By what you do to me” he finally answered, his hand slowly caressing my ankle with his thumb. The fingertips of his hands trailed up along my calves, stopping behind my knees, where his palms gently squeezed.

“I’m obsessed with you. With your scent. With your skin. I can’t stop thinking about your voice,” if possible, his voice dropped even lower.

“I want to make you feel good.” He placed one of my legs beside him before slowly bending down to kiss the bandaged side of my knee.

“I want to deserve everything you give me” Without even realizing it, I spread my legs to let him position himself better between them. He kissed a patch of skin higher up, and even higher, until he was inevitably approaching the part of me that craved his touch the most.

He gently rested his head on my inner thigh, looking directly into my eyes through the strands of hair falling over his face.

“I want to learn to worship you. So please, teach me again how to touch you the way you need”

I had to exhale with trembling lips as I gripped the armrests of the chair beneath me.

"I'll be a good boy for you."

[maretinelli]

STRAIGHT FROM THE 80'S

Ollie Bearman X Nurse!fem!reader

Summary: To which, Y/n is a true nerd of the 80s, of Marvel heroes, books, music, and sports. And Ollie falls more and more in love with his authentic and original girlfriend

Words: 9.2K+

Warnings: Make out session, mention of 80's music, cute, passionate, mention of many things from the 80's and I think that's it.

Author: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes that may be in the story. And here Y/n is me, and I am Y/n hahaha jokes aside, I just wanted to say that the protagonist was created with my 'personality'. So there might be physical specifications too. Like hair color and height, but the rest is Y/n.

MASTERLIST

Ollie knew from the moment he met Y/n at the age of 10 that she was unlike anyone he had ever met. He knew the tall, brunette-haired girl had stolen his heart.

It wasn't just that she had a unique style, always flashing a genuine smile while wearing her vintage jackets or carrying a bag full of Marvel comics, but the way she navigated the world, always staying true to herself.

Y/n had a passion for life that was contagious. She didn't need filters to express herself, but she knew how to do it with a grace that never hurt anyone.

Ollie's fame never seemed to bother her. While others were dazzled by the world of racing, Y/n remained focused on her own life. To her, Bearman wasn't just a Formula 1 driver; he was just her Ollie, the man who made bad jokes, left his shoes scattered around the house and who, every day, made her feel special.

And Ollie felt that in the six years they had known each other and the four years they had been together, he loved her more and more each day.

That morning, the sun had barely risen when Y/n opened her eyes and felt Ollie's arm still wrapped around her waist. They were in no rush; the racing season was on hiatus, and that meant they could enjoy a routine they both loved.

Minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Y/n opened Spotify and put on her favorite 80s playlist. The melody of 'Send Me An Angel' began to fill the mood, and Y/n, with calm energy, began to sway her body gently as she separated the ingredients for breakfast.

"Will you send me an angel? Here I am" She hums softly.

"You're going to end up distracting me like that" Ollie commented with a grin as he picked up the frying pan. He was wearing a slouchy t-shirt and sweatpants, his messy hair giving him a casual charm.

"Distract you from what? You just need to flip the pancakes before they burn," Y/n replied, unable to contain her laughter, as she cut fruit for the table.

"Oh, but you know I can't take my eyes off you." He put the spatula aside for a moment and walked over to her, hugging her from behind. His face met her shoulder, and he whispered playfully, "I should make a playlist of just you singing softly."

She laughed, but her heart was racing. "You'd fall asleep."

"I doubt it. I'd stay up all night just listening to it" Ollie replied, giving her a quick kiss on the neck before returning to the stove.

Y/n laughed and placed the bowl of fruit on the table, as the music changed to 'Cheri Cheri Lady' by Modern Talking. She couldn't resist and started to sing louder, gesturing exaggeratedly as if she were on a stage.

Ollie stopped what he was doing and watched, completely enchanted. No matter how many times he had seen this scene before, each time was like the first. It was her energy, the way she made everything seem simple and full of life, that made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

"If it continues like this, I'll be the one who turns into a pancake" he said, catching her eye.

"You should be more focused on breakfast, Bearman," Y/n joked, grabbing two mugs for coffee.

"It's hard when you're the best thing in this kitchen." He smiled at her, and Y/n rolled her eyes, even though she was smiling too.

When they finally sat down at the table, with pancakes, fruit, and coffee, Ollie reached out to take her hand. "I like this," she said, sincerely.

"Me too." Y/n says oblivious to the subject. "I like it when I mix honey with the bananas in the pancakes..." She points to the ingredients, and when she's about to continue speaking, Ollie interrupts her with a laugh, "What's up, love?"

"I wasn't talking about breakfast." He laughs.

Y/n stops chewing, while looking at him curiously. The college student swallows the food while placing a hand in front of her mouth and questions.

"What then?"

"Of us. Of our routine. Of you here." He confesses, looking at her in love. The same look he had held for so many years.

Y/n squeezes his hand affectionately and smiles. A smile that softens the Haas driver's heart. "You know. I love it too."

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The night was chilly outside, with the winter wind whistling through the apartment windows, but inside, the room was warm and cozy. Ollie was sitting on the couch, dressed in a cozy wool sweater that Yin's mom had given him last Christmas, his legs stretched out on the rug and his head propped up in his hand.

He watched his girlfriend with a calm smile, the kind of smile that only someone completely enchanted could display.

Y/n was standing in front of him, with a book with a worn cover in her hands. She held the copy carefully, as if it were a treasure. His eyes shone as he enthusiastically told the plot of the last novel he had read.

"So, they meet at first completely by chance, you know? That typical cliché scene of a stumble on the street, but with an irresistible charm," she said, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "But what I loved was how they didn't fall in love right away. It wasn't that forced love at first sight, you know? It was... slow, built, full of little moments that make you sigh."

"Like when you spilled coffee on my shirt our second week together?" Ollie asked, chuckling softly.

"Exactly! Only in their case, it was red wine," Y/n replied, rolling her eyes but with a smile on her lips. "And, look, let me tell you, the way the author described their first kiss... My God, Ollie, it was so perfect! He writes as if he was painting a picture."

Ollie just nodded, looking at her as if she was listening to the most important thing in the world. And for him, it was. He loved the way Y/n talked about the books she read - with passion, detail, and an energy that made it impossible not to be interested, even if he would never read them.

Suddenly, Y/n stood up from where she was sitting and began pacing around the room. "And then," she continued, pacing back and forth, "there's this scene where he finally realizes that he's in love with her, but he doesn't know how to say it. He just... stands there, staring at her. Like she's everything he's ever wanted, and I was like, 'Oh my God, this is so...' Oh, you get it, don't you?"

The way she spoke about the character was just like Ollie was. Only totally in love with his girlfriend of years.

"I think so. But honestly, I think you explain it so well that I don't even need to read the book."

"No, you have to read it! It's perfect!" Y/n paused for a moment, pointing the book at him as if giving him an order.

"I'd rather hear you tell it" he replied with a smile, leaning forward a little. "You make it sound much more interesting."

She shook her head, walking back around the room, still holding the book. "You're just too lazy to read, that's all. But seriously, Ollie, the way they build the novel... it's so subtle and delicate. Every word feels like it has weight, you know? Like the author knew exactly what he was doing."

For Ollie, he could spend his entire life listening to Y/n talk about books, comics, or even college papers that she read. There was an indescribable beauty in the way she talked about the things she loved.

"You know," he said softly, breaking the silence, "I think you'd make a great writer. You make any story seem more interesting just by the way you tell it."

Y/n stopped walking and looked at him, surprised but with a shy smile. "You think so?"

"I'm sure," Ollie replied, opening his arms, a crooked smile on his lips. "Now...about their kiss...how about recreating it? You said it was this passionate."

Y/n rolls her eyes and falls onto the couch next to him. Ollie's hands go to her cheeks. "But you know, don't you? That you're more captivating than any book or character!" She says with a mischievous smile.

"I know," he says and she laughs, before he attacks her lips in an electrifying, passionate, and heated kiss.

And Ollie, in that moment, knew once again that he was exactly where he was supposed to be: beside her, listening to her talk about the worlds she loved so much.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The Belgian GP was marked by low temperatures and a cloudy sky that made jackets seem essential. It was still early when Ollie gently shook Y/n awake.

"Honey, get up, I need to take you somewhere," he said, his voice filled with an enthusiasm that, to her, seemed exaggerated at that time of the morning.

Y/n, still half wrapped in the duvet, picked up her phone and looked at the time. 7 in the morning. She quickly grumbled to her boyfriend: "Oliver, you know it's still early in the morning, right? And it's freezing outside. Can't we wait a little longer?"

He just chuckled, slowly pulling the blanket away as he said, "If I wait, the surprise will lose its charm. Besides, you'll like it, I promise."

"Surprise? What kind of surprise makes me get out of bed in this cold?" She arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"A surprise is a surprise," Ollie replied with a mischievous smile. "And you'll thank me for it, even if you look grumpy right now."

Y/n got out of bed, reluctantly of course, but got ready and left the hotel with Ollie.

"And seriously, Ollie, how do you stand this cold? It's like you don't even feel it," Y/n said, putting her hands in her coat pockets.

"Maybe it's because I'm too busy hugging you," Ollie replied with a playful smile, squeezing her a little tighter against him.

After a few minutes of walking, Ollie stopped in front of an open-air market, with several stalls that looked straight out of the 80s.

The vibrant, retro decor caught Y/n's attention instantly, and her eyes lit up as she saw the paintings of old bands, vintage posters, and collector's items scattered throughout the tents.

"Did you plan this?" she asked, looking at him in surprise as her eyes danced between the stalls.

"Maybe," he replied casually, kissing the top of her head. "But that's not all. Come with me."

They walked a little further until they entered a record store. It was an 80s paradise: shelves full of vinyl, CDs, paintings of iconic bands, rock t-shirts and even vintage decorative objects. Y/n stood there for a moment, taking in everything around her, completely enchanted.

"This is amazing," she muttered, not taking her eyes off the shelves.

Ollie leaned closer and said close to her ear, with a smile, "Take what you want. Anything you want."

Y/n immediately narrowed her eyes and glared at him, crossing her arms playfully. "You've got to be kidding. Ollie, these collectibles are expensive, and my birthday isn't far away. And our anniversary has already passed. Which, by the way, you already gave me a gift for."

Bearman chuckled, reaching out to hold her hands. "I'm not kidding." He smiled. "And hey, having you by my side every day is reason enough to celebrate. Now go ahead and pick out your trinkets."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile before she started walking down the aisles. She carefully looked at each item, picking up only the ones she truly loved.

When he left the store, he was carrying an original Queen vinyl, a Funko Pop of his favorite superhero and a small framed painting of the cover of The Breakfast Club.

"You didn't exaggerate, huh," Ollie joked, looking down at her hands as they walked back to the hotel.

"I didn't mean to bankrupt you," she replied, laughing. "But seriously, thank you, Ollie."

The pilot pulled her close and left a kiss on her forehead. "Seeing you happy is worth it. Now let's go back before you complain about the cold again.

And as they walked back through the city streets, Y/n felt that it wasn't just because of the 80s items that her heart was warm on that freezing morning. It was the way Ollie always made a point of showing how much he cared about the things she loved.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The new apartment was everything they had ever dreamed of: bigger, airier, and with an incredible view. It was in a quiet neighborhood and close to Ollie's parents' house, something he knew would be special for him and Y/n.

The boxes were scattered across the floor, and the space still smelled of fresh paint, giving it that fresh air.

Y/n was sitting on the floor, wearing her typical 80s vibe outfit: a colorful striped blouse, high-waisted jeans, and a pair of new Converse. She was organizing one of the boxes marked 'Decor', but her mind was already racing, wondering where everything would go.

The apartment door opened, and Ollie entered carrying several bags and a large box in his arms. He looked a little tired, but he still had a smile on his face when he saw Y/n busy on the floor.

"You could have called me, Ollie!" Y/n said, quickly standing up and walking over to him. "I would have come down to help."

"You didn't have to, love" he replied, his tone casual as he walked to the center of the room. "It was nothing. And honestly, the weight of these things is nothing to me."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but gave a small smile as she helped him put the bags and box on the floor. "Okay, Mr. Muscles. But what's all this?"

She sat back down on the floor, straightening her blouse as she stared at the box curiously. Ollie, in turn, gave her a small smile and began to open the box.

"These are some things I bought for decoration," he said, opening the lid and revealing the contents.

Y/n laughed lightly, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. "Ollie, we have enough stuff to fill this huge space."

"Ah, but I thought it would be cool if you put a little more of your passion for the 80s in here" The pilot replied, pulling several items out of the box that immediately made Y/n's eyes shine.

The first item was a framed cover of Guns N' Roses' Appetite for Destruction album. He then pulled out small collectible superhero figurines, vinyl records, classic movie posters, and even a wall clock with a totally retro aesthetic.

"Oh my God, Ollie, this is awesome!" she said, laughing as she picked up one of the posters to take a closer look.

“Wait, there’s more” Bearman continued, pulling out a small decorative kit with miniature stethoscopes, syringes, and other nursing-related items. “I thought you might like to put this on the shelf in the hallway, you know, something that’s more you.”

Y/n felt her eyes water as he showed the items. It was more than just decoration. It was as if Ollie had collected pieces of her and put them into gifts.

"Hey, hey" he said, noticing the tears rolling down her face. Ollie walked over, crouching down next to Y/n and gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "What's wrong, love? Did I do something wrong?"

Y/n laughed through her tears, shaking her head. "No, of course not. It's just... My love for you is so big that sometimes it feels like it's going to overflow, you know? And now it's overflowing." She said, smiling, as she held his hand.

Ollie smiled back, a warm, loving smile. "You're amazing, you know that? I just wish our home was like you: unique and special. And that there was a little bit of your soul in every corner."

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him into a warm hug. "Thank you, Ollie. Really. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me. I love you," he replied, kissing the top of her head before pulling away slightly. "Now... how about you start telling me all those brilliant ideas I know you already have? Don't hold back. I want to know everything."

Y/n laughed, wiping her eyes and starting to talk about where they would put each thing, her energy infecting the environment.

Ollie listened to her attentively, in love with the way she spoke with enthusiasm, and knew, once again, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be: With the woman of his life, building a home full of love and memories.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a busy day in the GP paddock, as always. Y/n, as a good friend and a great kind person, had promised to help Kelly, who had to fulfill a series of media commitments and meetings with sponsors.

Meanwhile, Y/n would be responsible for taking care of Penelope, Kelly's 5-year-old daughter. For the dark-haired girl, it wasn't a big sacrifice, she adored the little girl and, honestly, found it fun to spend time with her.

Ollie, on the other hand, was in a meeting with the team. So she lovingly sent a message to her boyfriend, saying that she was at the coffee shop with Penelope, so that as soon as she left the meeting she would go and find them.

And as always, Y/n had something related to her personality. Underneath the Haas jacket that Ollie had given her that morning because of the wind, she was wearing a black t-shirt with the print of her favorite hero on it. Spiderman. It was a drawing from the comic versions.

Penelope had complimented her as soon as she saw her. "Do you like him because he's strong or because he makes those cool webs?" Penelope asked curiously as she threw a sheet of stickers on the table.

Y/n laughed, sitting in front of her, while placing the hot chocolate she had bought for the child, on the table.

"The webs. Definitely." She says smiling.

Penelope laughed, shaking her head. "Do you have other heroes' clothes?"

"I have. A lot. I think Ollie is used to opening his closet and seeing a bunch of superhero shirts or stuff from the 80s."

At the mention of Ollie's name, Penelope stopped and frowned slightly. "Have you and Ollie always liked each other? I mean, have you been together for a long time?"

For a 5 year old, Penelope was very smart.

Y/n laughed at the direct question. "We've known each other since we were ten years old. But we've been together since we were sixteen. So I think so, if we've always liked each other and we've been together for a long time"

Penelope smiles contentedly, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. But ready to ask another question. "Are you two going to get married someday? Because mom always says that when you love someone so much, you end up marrying them."

"I think so." Y/n bites her lip a little. "We talk about it. But we never know when it might happen." She smiles gently and P nods.

Penelope seemed satisfied with the answer. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she pulled a deck of UNO from the backpack she had brought. “Do you know how to play?”

"Of course I know!" Y/n replied excitedly. "But I'm warning you now, I'm really good at it."

"I doubt it!" Penelope exclaimed, laughing as she began to deal the cards on the table.

The two lost themselves in the match, laughing and teasing each other in a friendly way. Penelope loved to shout "UNO!" with a victorious smile, while Y/n pretended to feel defeated.

During the game, Penelope continued to ask random questions about Y/n, from what she thought about living in London with Ollie to who her favorite superhero was.

"Do you miss your mom while you live with Ollie?" She asks genuinely.

Y/n laughs, but Penelope doesn't mind her older friend's laughter.

"No." She smiles. "My parents live about 10 minutes away from us and Ollie's parents live in the same neighborhood as us. So there's no time to miss them." She smiles.

"Cool!" She plays a card. "We've known each other for a while and you're friends with my mom, but I don't think I've ever asked you what you do. Like, do you just take care of the house and Ollie or do you work?"

Y/n smiles. "I'm studying nursing and I work at a hospital."

Penelope frowns. "Hospital has a bad smell"

Y/n laughs out loud. "You get used to it, after all the hours you spend there."

Penelope smiles.

Ollie then left the meeting and saw his girlfriend's message. Smiling knowing how much she loved spending time with the little girl. Going to where they were, the pilot stands outside, appreciating his girlfriend as she smiles and plays with the girl inside the coffee shop.

He stood there for a few seconds, watching Y/n laughing as Penelope celebrated yet another victory.

Ollie smiles and enters the cafeteria, making both of them turn their heads towards the door. He approaches and, with a bigger smile, says: "Looks like someone is humiliating you in UNO." The pilot pokes his girlfriend's side, making her laugh at the tickle.

Y/n looked up at him, feigning indignation. "I'm letting her win. Of course."

Penelope laughed out loud. "No, you're not! I'm the best!"

Ollie ruffled Penelope's hair lightly and sat down next to Y/n, looking at the cards spread out on the table. "Looks like I missed out on the fun, huh?"

"You can enter the next round," Y/n said, handing him a deck of cards. "But I warn you: I won't let anyone else win."

Ollie and Penelope laugh in sync.

"So? What were you talking about?"

Penelope lets out a small laugh. "From you!"

Y/n smiles and the pilot lets out a laugh in mock surprise. "From me?"

"Yeah. Y/n was saying how cool it is to be with you."

The college student feels her cheeks flush with courage and smiles slightly, as she shuffles the cards to play again.

Ollie turns towards his girlfriend, placing his elbows on the table and looking at her, with a smile on his face, even provocative.

"Ah? It's nice, huh?" He stands a few millimeters away from Y/n's face.

"Shut up." She laughs, pushing his face away with her hand. "We're in front of P!" Y/n says through gritted teeth and Ollie understands, laughing as he watches his girlfriend hand him the letters.

"I love you" Ollie whispers in her direction. She smiles shyly.

••••••••••••••••••••

The apartment door opened softly, revealing Ollie carrying a few bags of groceries. He barely had time to step inside when an unusual, yet completely adorable scene unfolded in front of him: Y/n running around, completely focused on something.

"I already told you it's rude to fight with your sister, Bagheera! And you, Izzie, are no saint! Get back here, now!" Y/n shouted, running after the two kittens they had recently adopted, Bagheera and Izzie, who were now running in circles around the room, meowing indignantly.

Unaware of Ollie's presence, she ran past him, her hair flying and a look of pure frustration on her face. She followed the two puppies into the kitchen. Ollie followed the three and just leaned against the wall with a smile of pure amusement, watching the scene attentively.

When she managed to reach the two, she crouched down on the ground and began talking to them as if they were small children.

"You two need to learn to behave! I told you it's bad form to fight. Bagheera, apologize to your sister, now!" She pointed her finger at Bagheera, who let out a small meow, while Izzie stared at her with curious eyes.

Ollie, who was now at the entrance to the kitchen, with his arms crossed and a goofy smile, continued to watch. He refused to interrupt that hilarious and cute scene.

Y/n picked up the two kittens, holding one in each arm. "You two are going to make up. Now! Come on, make up." Bagheera raised his paw and, in a slow movement, gave Izzie a light slap on the head, who let out an offended meow.

"Hey! That's not an apology, Bagheera!" Y/n scolded, putting the two down again. The kittens went back to running around the house as if nothing had happened.

When Yin turned around, she finally noticed Ollie leaning against the wall, chuckling softly. "How long have you been there?" she asked, crossing her arms, though there was a smile on her face.

"Long enough to watch you raise our children" Ollie replied, still smiling.

She laughed out loud, shaking her head as she walked over to the stove to heat some water for tea. "If they're our children, you should talk to them later too. Maybe they'll listen to you better than they listen to me."

"I can try," Ollie teased, stepping closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a soft kiss. When they pulled away, he looked into her eyes, his smile now softer. "You're brilliant, you know that? I love you. You're going to be an amazing mother one day."

Y/n tilted her head in surprise and looked at him with slightly wide eyes. They had talked about children before, but Ollie’s confident and determined tone seemed to warm something inside her. “Children?”

"Yes" Ollie replied, with a calmness that seemed natural. "You and I married, maybe with three kids. Girls. Three girls. Because I can only imagine you being a mother of little girls."

Y/n's heart melted completely at those words. She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, as if she never wanted to let him go. Ollie smiled against her brunette hair, caressing her back.

"Three girls?" she asked softly, chuckling softly.

"Three girls" he confirmed, kissing the top of her head. "And I will take care of each of them as you take care of me."

She closed her eyes, feeling her heart overflow with happiness. The idea of a future with him seemed as perfect as could be.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a lazy afternoon at Ollie and Y/n's apartment. They were both on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a bowl of popcorn on their laps shared between the two. On the TV screen, an 80s classic was playing Y/n's choice, obviously.

"See, Ollie?" Y/n pointed at the screen excitedly. "Now that's a real movie! Impeccable script, practical effects, and a soundtrack that makes you want to live in the 80s forever."

Ollie, munching on a handful of popcorn, raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll admit, The Goonies is good, but you can't deny that today's movies have special effects that the '80s couldn't even dream of having."

Y/n turned to him, hands on her hips, or at least as close to that as she could get under the blanket. "Oh, please, special effects don't make a movie good! Anyone with a computer can make an explosion look real these days, but what about the soul? The heart of the story? That's from the 80s, honey."

Ollie chuckled and tilted his head. "So you're saying Avengers: Endgame has no soul?"

"I'm saying that Avengers: Endgame is a generic movie that will never top Ghostbusters. And don't get me started on the '80s superheroes. 1978's Superman is still the best superhero adaptation ever made."

He threw some popcorn at her, laughing. "You're ridiculous! Don't you even consider Iron Man to be the best character ever created?!"

"Oh, don't make me laugh!" Y/n snapped, grabbing the popcorn and throwing it back at him. "Iron Man could never compete with the original X-Men from the comics! Not to mention his costume in the first movies is so... boring. I prefer the practical effects they used in the 80s. More realistic!"

"More realistic?" Ollie laughed. "Do you really think rubber dolls are better than CGI?"

"Yes! They had personality, okay?!" Y/n was now completely turned towards him, the passion for the subject evident in the sparkle in her eyes and the challenging smile she gave.

He stared at her for a few seconds, trying to keep the argument alive, but he couldn't resist. Ollie started laughing and leaned towards her, holding Y/n's face in his hands. "You're impossible. How am I supposed to win an argument with you when you're this beautiful?"

"Is this your way of escaping defeat?" she asked, laughing softly.

"It's my way of surrendering," Ollie replied, pulling her into a slow, tender kiss. When they pulled away, he smiled. "Okay, you win. The '80s are awesome. But you have to admit, Marvel from the last few years is good, too."

Y/n narrowed her eyes, pretending to consider the idea. "Maybe... but only because I love you. Not because you're right."

"I accept," he said, laughing, before stealing another kiss.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a typical and tiring Thursday for Y/n. College seemed to have sucked all of her energy with endless classes and complicated papers. When she finally arrived at the apartment she shared with Ollie, all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed.

Upon opening the door, however, she was surprised by a completely different environment. The lights were slightly dimmed, small LED bulbs decorated the room, and the irresistible smell of freshly made popcorn filled the air.

In the center of the room, the sofa was covered in pillows and blankets, carefully arranged to look like a real cozy movie theater.

Ollie appeared in the kitchen entrance, with a wide smile and a bucket of popcorn in his hands. He was wearing a Ghostbusters themed t-shirt. Which he had taken from Y/n, which made her let out a hearty laugh.

"Welcome to our private cinema, love," he announced, as if he were the master of ceremonies for the evening.

Y/n looked around, surprised and delighted. "Ollie, what's all this?" She smiled.

"I know how exhausting college is for you," Ollie said, walking over to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "So I thought you deserved a special night. I've put together a marathon of your favorite movies. We've got Ghostbusters, The Princess Diaries, and of course, The Chronicles of Narnia. I thought you'd enjoy it."

She blinked a few times, processing his dedication, before throwing herself into Ollie's arms with a huge smile. "You're the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?"

"I'll do my best," he teased, kissing her forehead. "Go take a quick shower while I finish organizing everything. The popcorn is ready, and there's chocolate on the table. Oh, and I made some tea too, because I know you love watching movies with hot tea."

Y/n let out a light laugh and ran to the bathroom, leaving her things along the way.

When she returned, wearing a comfy pair of her boyfriend’s sweatshirts, she found Ollie sitting on the couch, a remote control in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He was waiting for her with a relaxed smile, patting the space next to him.

"Come, the session is about to begin"

Y/n settled in next to him, pulling up a blanket and placing her legs on Ollie's lap. "Which one should we start with?"

"Ghostbusters, of course," he replied, as he pressed play on the movie.

Throughout the night, they laughed together, commented on the scenes and even argued about which character was the best in each movie. Ollie knew that Y/n needed this moment to disconnect from her responsibilities and just be herself, immersing herself in her favorite stories.

As The Chronicles of Narnia came to an end, Y/n looked over at Ollie, who was absentmindedly eating the last of his popcorn. "Thank you for this," she whispered, touching his face gently.

Ollie smiled and tilted his head to the side. "So what?"

"For always thinking of me and making everything so special. I love you more than anything, Ollie."

"And I love you more than all the 80's movies combined," he replied, eliciting a laugh from her. Ollie leaned in, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss as the TV in the background rolled the end credits.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a rare Sunday off for Ollie, and he had planned to spend the entire morning in bed next to Y/n. However, when he woke up, he realized that the space next to him was empty, he frowned and stretched before getting up.

The apartment was silent except for a distant sound coming from the living room.

As he walked down the stairs, he found the most unexpected and, at the same time, so typically Y/n scene.

She was standing barefoot, in long pajamas, and she held one hand up, clearly trying not to smudge the nail polish she had just applied. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, where a football match was playing with increasing tension.

"Come on, take this, please!" Y/n muttered to herself, completely oblivious to Ollie's presence.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get any words out, a frustrated scream echoed through the room.

"Oh no! What the hell!" Y/n exclaimed, stomping her foot on the ground. "That goalie is a joke! How did he miss that?" She rolls her eyes, as if the players can see her. "Ha, if that was me, we'd be winning," she mutters.

Ollie leaned against the door frame with a wide smile on his face, watching his indignant girlfriend.

He cleared his throat, getting her attention. "Care to explain to me what you're doing standing in our living room watching football at eight in the morning... on our vacation?"

Y/n turned to him, her hand still in the air so as not to smudge her freshly painted nails. "Oh, good morning to you too." She replied with a mix of sarcasm and humor. "My team is playing, Ollie. How could I miss that? You know how fun those matches are!"

Ollie laughed, walking over to her and stopping beside her. "What about the nails? What does that have to do with any of this?"

“Multitasking” she replied with a mischievous smile, raising her hand to show off her bright red nail polish. “I get to support my team and take care of my manicure at the same time. Isn’t that brilliant?”

"You're one of a kind, you know?" Ollie murmured, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Her dark hair smelled of grape shampoo. "But I didn't know morning football was part of the package."

"You're just complaining because the goal wasn't from my team," Y/n retorted, pointing at him with the nail polish brush in her hand. "And by the way, it's Sunday. Is there anything better to do than cheer for the team you love?"

"Maybe stay in bed with your boyfriend?" He suggested and Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "But well, you're more passionate about your team than I'll ever be about any sport outside of motorsports. I think I'll let that slide."

Y/n gave a low laugh before looking back at the TV as Ollie pulled her closer to him. "Now sit down and explain to me who these guys are. I want to understand why you screamed so loud."

They sat on the couch, Ollie's right arm around her shoulders as she finished painting her nails and explained everything she knew about the team, occasionally pointing at the TV with the brush from the nail polish tube.

Ollie smiled, even though he didn't understand anything she was saying, but he was clearly paying attention and feeling his heart fill with even more love.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The afternoon was quiet in the apartment, the sweet smell of cookies baking in the oven filling the air.

Y/n was in the kitchen, wearing a floral print apron, swaying slightly to the sound of 'Games' by the band Nazareth, which was playing on the apartment's speakers.

Ollie was in a meeting, which luckily was in London. And when he saw the time, Y/n's smile grew, knowing that he would be home in a few minutes.

As she mixed the ingredients for another batch, she softly sang the chorus, completely immersed in the melody and nostalgia that the song brought.

"You are not just ashamed of yourself. You're a part of the scenery, damned to hell." She slams her hand on the counter, completely immersed in her favorite song.

Ollie arrived at the apartment silently, opening the door carefully so as not to make any noise. He left his backpack near the couch and walked towards the kitchen, attracted by Y/n's sweet voice and the irresistible aroma of cookies.

Upon hearing the song, he recognized the familiar melody. The same favorite song as Y/n since she was 10 years old. Ollie smiles, knowing he's memorized that song inside out since the day they met. When they were still naive children and friends.

When he reached the kitchen entrance, he leaned against the wall, with his hands in his pants pockets and the wide smile that he never let go of when he was around his girlfriend.

He hummed softly, but Y/n didn't notice. For he had his back to Ollie's spot and was singing loudly.

"Can't you see. We are not going to play at your games. We are not going to ask you for names. Or for some of your history" Ollie approaches his girlfriend and hugs her from behind. Singing along with her.

Y/n stopped immediately, turning to face him with wide eyes. "What? You know that song?" She asked, surprised, a smile already appearing on her face.

Ollie shrugged. "Of course I know. I've heard you sing it every day since we were ten!"

She felt her cheeks flush. But she smiled, dropping the cloth on the counter and wrapping her arms around her boyfriend.

"There's just one thing..." He begins, an amused smile on his face and his hands snaking around her waist. "Don't you think this song is a little 'dark' to be your favorite?"

She laughs loudly, throwing her head back. Making her strands of brunette hair fall. Ollie took the opportunity and planted a kiss on her exposed neck, before Y/n returned to her original position.

"Dark? Just because she talks about fighting manipulation and mind games?" She teases.

"EXACTLY!" Ollie says loudly, with an amused tone in his voice.

"Okay, okay. The lyrics might be weird, but I love the instrumental." She smiles, then puts her arms tighter on the pilot's shoulders. "You need to feel the music. Close your eyes and focus on the instruments..."

Y/n closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side. Ollie, on the other hand, has his eyes open, admiring his girlfriend. He thinks everything about her is perfect, from the beauty mark near her mouth to her unruly brunette hair.

He hadn't confessed yet. But with each passing day he felt his love grow. If he could, he would marry this girl right now. There, in the kitchen of their apartment, with her in an apron and the smell of cookies in the air, while their cats brought the rings. Which was clearly impossible, since the puppies had the energy of four-year-olds.

"Are your eyes closed?" She asks, her own eyes closed.

"Yes..." Lie.

He starts to get closer to her face, and she notices, as she feels his warm breath on her neck and his firm hands on her waist tighten. Ollie starts with kisses on her neck, which move up to her jaw and reach her mouth.

"I'm feeling the music," he declares, before bringing their lips together in a slow, passionate, heated kiss.

Y/n smiled between the kiss, her hands now running through his curls. While trying her best to swallow the sighs that wanted to escape her throat.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Ollie always made sure to bring a little piece of the 80s to Y/n, especially during the races she couldn't attend because of college. He knew how much she loved everything related to that decade and loved surprising her with little gifts that captured her passion.

That week, Y/n was unable to accompany Ollie to the Austrian GP. So, as soon as he landed in London, relief took over knowing that in just a few minutes he would be in the comfort of his apartment and in the loving arms of his girlfriend, whom he hadn't seen for a week.

As soon as he entered the apartment, he found Y/n sitting on the couch, with her college books scattered around her. She smiled when she saw him and jumped off the couch to hug him.

"How was the flight, okay?" Ollie nods and kisses her. "And more importantly, how are you?" She asks, looking at him with curious eyes.

He laughed and took her hands in his. "It was okay. It would have been great if you were there, because..." He began pulling a bag that was resting on his suitcase. "I found something... for you!"

"One thing?" She asks curiously.

"Yeah. I actually bought this for you and when I was walking back to the hotel, I ran into a certain person who could sign it for you."

Y/n's eyes widen in curiosity and then Ollie hands her the bag. From it, she pulls out a fairly large box. She smiles curiously, looking at Ollie and the box as she opens it.

Inside, there was an original Guns N' Roses poster in a frame, autographed by none other than Slash, the band's guitarist.

"SHUT UP!" She yells and Ollie laughs out loud. "ARE YOU KIDDING?"

Ollie shakes his head. "No, Antonelli and I found him outside the hotel. Apparently he was staying with us and we only realized when he was leaving." He laughs. "Seriously! At that moment I almost cried because I wanted you there!"

Y/n's heart races and she smiles. "I love you so much." She pulls him into a passionate, appreciative kiss.

After that, Ollie hands over some more stuff he bought for her, which he thought she should definitely take back to their flat in London.

"Where did you find these things?"

"It was in a little shop near the hotel where we were staying. I thought you would like it," he said, watching her reaction with a proud smile.

While she had her collector's items on the table near the door.

"Like it? I love it! This is perfect" She said, hugging him tightly.

"I knew you'd love it," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Which was hard, since she was as tall as him. Which made him love her more.

Y/n pulled back a little, still holding the presents, and looked at him with an amused smile. "You're going to end up turning our apartment into an 80s shrine, you know that?"

"If it's going to make you happy, I don't see any problem with that," Ollie replied with a calm smile.

She shook her head, laughing, and pulled him onto the couch. "Fine, but now you're going to help me choose where to put this iconic poster!"

And, as always, that small gesture from Ollie was further proof of how much he loved making Y/n happy, even in the smallest details.

Which this time was extremely big for Y/n. Well, look, she got an original Guns N' Roses poster signed by the band's guitarist from her boyfriend. That was incredible!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n arrived home after another long day at the hospital internship. As soon as she opened the door, she was greeted by the welcoming smell of something Ollie was cooking - or at least less trying. She smiled when she saw him in the kitchen, wearing an apron that said 'Chef for a day.'

"Hi, love," she said, throwing her bag on the couch and walking over to him in the kitchen for a quick hug from behind.

"Hi, favorite nurse," he replied, turning to kiss her and face his girlfriend. "How was your internship today?"

"It was amazing!" Y/n replied enthusiastically, already pulling up a chair at the kitchen table and sitting down. "Today I gave a preemie a bath in the thermal crib. He was only 2 kilos, Ollie. He's so small, but so strong!"

Ollie wiped his hands on a cloth, grabbed two glasses of water, and sat down across from her, leaning his elbows on the table and watching her intently as the food cooked.

"And how is that? I mean, how do you bathe a baby that small?"

Y/n smiled, loving his interest. "Oh, there's a whole technique! We heat the water to the perfect temperature and, while holding the baby firmly, we wash with very gentle movements so as not to scare him. It's very delicate. And the best part is when he starts to relax and even smiles!"

Ollie tilted his head in amazement. "I didn't know premature babies could smile. That's... amazing."

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n agreed, her eyes shining with passion. "They are so fragile, but they have an impressive strength. And you know what? Today one of them squeezed my finger with his little hand. My heart almost melted!"

Ollie laughed, imagining the scene. "I think they feel they're in good hands with you."

"Do you think so?" She asked, tilting her head, a little shyly.

"I'm sure," Ollie replied with a tender smile. "You're so dedicated. I can barely follow half of what you say, but I can see how much you love it. And that just makes me love you even more."

Y/n bites her lower lip in shyness, the pilot notices and laughs, caressing her hand. "I love you, so much" He says.

"I love you more" Y/n smiles and blows a kiss in the air. He chuckles softly.

"So? What adventures did you have with these little ones from the neonatal unit?"

Y/n rested her face on her hand and smiled, as if reliving the day in her mind. "There was a special moment... One of the babies started crying very softly, and when I put his little hand on my finger, and he stopped right away. Like he needed a little comfort, you know?"

Ollie smirked, resting his chin on his hand, watching her carefully. "You really do have a magical touch, don't you? I don't think it's possible for anyone not to feel comfortable around you."

She laughed. "It's not magic, love. It's just affection and patience. Things you have too, you know?"

"Me? I don't know if I would have the same patience with babies. I would be afraid to hold them, because they are small." He makes a gesture as if he were holding a baby and Y/n laughs. "I only have patience because, well, I have you. Who calms me down."

Y/n laughed, throwing a napkin ball at him. "Silly."

"Hey, it's true!" Ollie said, holding up the ball and smiling. "You have a passion for taking care of people, and that's one of the things I love most about you. I can't wait to see you taking care of our own children one day."

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, but the smile remained. “Are you thinking about kids yet?” she teased. “What about marriage?”

"With you? I always think about that," he replied matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious. "What about the wedding? I'm working on some things for the proposal."

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing, thinking that comment was completely provocative and playful. But the truth was that Ollie was already looking for an engagement ring, he just hadn't found the perfect one yet.

"Thank you for always listening and supporting me, Ollie. I'm so lucky to have you."

"Lucky me" he replied with a smile, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Now, before the food burns, how about you tell me if my dinner will pass Chef Nurse Y/n's test?"

She laughed out loud, feeling completely at home next to him. Because after all, he is her home.

••••••••••••••••••••••

The rain gently tapped against the windows of Y/n and Ollie's London apartment, creating a relaxing melody that filled the room.

It was one of those days when the world seemed to slow down, allowing them to enjoy the simple, cozy moment of each other's company.

In the room, the smell of fresh paint mixed with the aroma of coffee that still hung in the air. Y/n was sitting on the floor, with a children's coat neatly laid out in front of her, her brushes and paints scattered around her.

She was working on a special project for her niece, delicately painting colorful flowers and butterflies on the back of her coat while softly humming along to 'Californication' playing on her phone.

Ollie, who was initially on the couch playing with his cell phone, looked up to observe the scene.

He smiled when he saw her so focused, her eyebrows furrowed on her forehead, as if she was angry about something. But it was just a trait he loved whenever she was completely absorbed in something.

Standing up, he walked over to where Y/n was.

"You're really good at this, you know?" He commented, kneeling down beside her and watching her progress.

"Thank you," she replied, not looking up from her work, adding a finishing touch to one of the flowers. "But don't you think you're a little lazy up there? Why don't you grab one of my canvases upstairs and do something with it, too?"

Ollie raised his eyebrows with an amused smile. "Do you think I'm good at painting?"

She finally looked at him, her eyes shining with a hint of teasing. "No," Y/n says sincerely and Ollie laughs out loud. "But it doesn't hurt to try." She smiles.

Ollie smiles and then agrees with the idea and gets up to go up to the 'mess room' that she had declared would be the place where they would throw all the things they weren't going to use for a while.

Walking upstairs, Ollie had an even more brilliant idea. After grabbing the canvas and a paintbrush from the junk room, he walked to the room they shared, reached into the closet, and grabbed a velvet box. Putting it in his sweatshirt pocket, he walked downstairs smiling.

He came back and sat down beside her, dipping his brush into the black paint. "Prepare to be amazed. You are in the presence of a true artist."

Y/n let out a laugh, tilting her head. "I can't wait to see that."

While she went back to customizing the coat, Ollie began working on his 'Artwork'. Only, instead of drawing a picture like she expected, he started writing something.

Ollie worked carefully, making sure the letters were perfect, while Y/n, completely oblivious to what he was doing, remained focused on her project.

After writing, he tried to draw a ring and a couple. But it came out more like a stick figure couple.

But for someone who didn't know how to draw, it was great.

A few minutes later, he wiped his hands with a cloth and leaned back, admiring his work, the canvas in front of him. "Done!" he announced excitedly.

Y/n looked up from her jacket, curious. "Are you done yet? That was quick."

"Come here," he said, holding the screen in his hands. "I need you to see it up close to understand the genius."

"Okay then!" Y/n smiles, and gets up from where she was to sit next to Ollie.

He, in turn, began to get nervous, his hands began to sweat and then he decided to put the box he had found in his coat pocket.

"Okay, handsome. Let's see this work of art of yours!" Y/n chuckles softly, sitting next to him.

And then, Ollie turns the screen over and shows it to her. The smile on her face fell, her body froze, but her heart began to beat faster and faster. She felt the tears begin to fall, as she took the screen from Ollie's hands.

There, written in elegant letters and surrounded by little hearts, a ring and a drawing of a couple of sticks that he improvised, was the phrase: Will you marry me?

Y/n's eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth, leaving the screen on the floor, as her heart raced. "Ollie..." She turns to him.

Ollie smiles widely, taking the ring out of his sweatshirt pocket. His gaze had nothing less than love and a little nervousness. He kneels in front of her, while she still has her hand over her mouth in shock and tears falling.

"Y/n, know that you've been everything to me since we were 10 years old. You bring color to my life. You have a way of looking at the world that makes me want to be a better person, just to deserve to be by your side. What I want for my tomorrow, for the rest of my life, is to be with you in every step, in every journey, celebrating every victory and facing every challenge, always together. Every moment with you, be it painting, cooking, or just watching 80's movies, it's perfect. I love you, Y/n. Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Do you want to be mine, forever? Do you want to marry me?"

Tears were now streaming down the girl's face, but she had a sweet smile on her lips. "Of course! I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be yours forever and I want to marry you!"

Ollie smiles, wiping away his own tears now. "I'm the happiest man in all of London!" He smiles in relief, and then pulls her into a passionate kiss, sealing that promise.

Y/n smiles between kisses and laughs when they fall onto the carpet in the living room of their apartment. "You caught me by surprise," she said with a smile, wiping away her tears. "I would never expect a marriage proposal like that. A true work of art, huh?!"

He laughs.

"Well, I wanted it to be special, just the way you are. And I knew that if it was during an afternoon like this, with something we love to do together, it would be perfect."

She looked at him in awe, feeling more loved than ever. "It was more than perfect, Ollie."

The two spent the rest of the day in the living room, laughing, talking about the future and, of course, finishing their painting projects - now with even more love in every detail.

[queenendless]

💗Safe Haven (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)💗

A/n: ... I legit had no clue what to write. So it's gonna be short. Sorry. God this JJK burnout is getting worse!

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and these two are enemies on opposites sides but in reality are secret lovers (though it ain't a secret to those who truly know them) with you as their third. And like reader-chan, I need comfort right now.

PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE, TRANSLATE, COPY, REPOST AND ETC MY FAN CONTENT. Reblog, like, and follow instead thnx u.

The front door of the apartment unlocked, swinging open as that familiar boisterous voice boomed out. “Sweetheart~! Your Toru is here~!” The door slide closed as Satoru Gojo took off his black dress boots to leave by your welcome mat.

His socked, heavy footsteps sounded getting closer in just a few strides. “Did ya miss me? Cause I sure missed — !”

The sounds of glass shattering followed by the loud thump of something falling made him run, honed in on your cursed energy. Finding you crumbled up on the glass shard covered floor of the living room.

“Y/n!?” Using the barest traces of cursed energy in his finger to collect the shards only to erode them into cursed nothingness, he could safely tend to you. “Hold on. I got you.”

Only when he slowly helped you roll around to sit up on your butt did he see crimson dripping down your hand from the cut open wound on your wrist.

“Fuck.” He muttered before speaking out loud. “I don't see any glass in there. Still,” He pulled off his blindfold to bind it tight enough to put enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

“Toru, your blindfold!”

“I have plenty of backups stashed back at my place. And here, of course. Besides, this is just temporary.” His updo now freed to let his hair down hang over those radiant eyes that bore anxious concern for you as well as the utmost confidence, pulling your uninjured hand up gently as his other arm wrapped around your waist to get you on your feet.

“Not to worry, my dearest angel. Your valiant lover will get you all patched up in no time.”

The sliding open of the rolling door leading to the balcony grabbed your attention.

Then again, you both felt that familiar cursed presence coming a mile away.

“Well now,” Seeing the manta ray returning to his own shadow, Suguru Geto hummed deeply. “What have we here?” He took off his zōri sandals to place by the open doorway. “Satoru, you're no healing nurse like Shoko is, ya know.”

“For your information, Suguru,” the sassy hurt in Gojo's voice betrayed the grin that was there. “I happen to be a wonderful nurse!”

Geto cheekily pointed out. “Then you have a small bloody puddle to wipe up, nurse-sama~”

Satoru groaned a bit. “Hang on. I can't be expected to do all the work.”

“My blood, my mess to clean up.” You meekly pointed out.

Satoru gently lifted you up by the waist just to plop you on the couch, clicking his tongue and wagging his finger at you. “Sorry love, but you look exhausted. No wonder you collapsed earlier and got yourself hurt. Now you need to take it easy.”

Suguru sighed deeply. “Very well. I'll help my dear Satoru out if it'll make him happy.”

Both men hummed as Gojo leaned over to smooch Geto for several drawn out moments to fill that mouth with its usual sweet taste. “Thank you~” Gojo beamed before stalking off to the bathroom where you kept the first aid kit under the sink.

Seeing a decent sized, withered red leaved Jubokko tree become sentient with blinking eyes creep out of Suguru's shadow made your curl away from it. “Sorry dearest, but it'll help clean up the mess much faster.” Suguru assured, despite cringing as its hole of a mouth sucked up every trace of blood on that floor, hissing as its root hands reached out for your bloody clothed wrist only to be sucked back into Suguru's shadow again.

“Wretched leech.” He griped, his white tabi socked feet padded over to you.

You flushed pink at the sight of Suguru undoing his gold-colored kāṣāya garment to drape over the couch as he rolled up his black yukata robe sleeves.

“Choosing to leave the sorcerer life is one thing … but living among these … monkeys. Honestly honey, I'd prefer you live with me and the girls … though with everything that's been transpiring lately …” He sat down and gingerly took your wrapped wrist, smiling faintly recognizing Gojo's blindfold even if bloodstained. “I can see why living away from all that chaos does seem safer.”

“I have returned!” Satoru slid in, holding the kit above his head like it was the newborn heir of the Pride Lands. “So, since I got here first and all, I figured you are up to playing nurse this time?”

“Fine by me. But best we clean it in the bathroom.” Geto recommended.

Gojo drooped, whining. “Back the way I came then. Jeez, could've told me that earlier?”

Geto scoffed. “Oh hush you.”

The cold tap water of your bathroom sink ran as the blindfold was unbound, plopping into the sink, crimson draining away as you kept your wrist under the running faucet.

“Fortunately, the cut isn't that deep so no stitching is needed. Still, I suggest you focus your attention elsewhere to make it seem less painful in your mind's eye, love.” Suguru cautioned as he doused a spare soft clothed rag on the countertop with your mild hand soap before letting it get wet enough.

“You can start by explaining why you're so pooped out?” Hugging you from behind meant you could lean on Satoru's sturdy body as your fatigue was coming back in.

“Insomnia.” You whined a bit as he lifted you up again just to plop you on the counter. “Depression. Lonesomeness – Figured it out now?” Your griping did unnerve them.

Your sniffling meant tears blurred your vision, looking away to face the wall and not them. Satoru weaved his hand through your hair, pulling your head to flush your weeping face in between his plush pecs as Suguru began dabbing and cleaning around the cut.

“I mean, work stress for one cause of course there is. Living here by myself for two. And seeing cursed spirits flock around here, harmless ones at that, still makes me anxious if things will escalate to full blown shit.” You felt yourself laxing as Gojo brushed your hair as well as your arm to reassure you that you weren't alone now. “I'm always gonna be worried for the day when you two don't come back … or for when you do return … but I'll be dead or worse.” The sting in your wrist was outweighed by the ache in your cracked heart.

Shadows covered both their faces, letting you speak.

“I know you both went through hell after Riko-chan … and Haibara-kun … and I thought leaving with Nanami-san would mean I find some semblance of peace and try to live as normally as I could.”

Gauze bandages gingerly covered your wrist as Geto's nimble hands got to work.

“Even so, I thought keeping in touch would be better than nothing … despite the risks … I needed to hear your voices again. See your smiles again. I'm sorry. I – !”

Tenderly holding your cheeks to have you look up at him, you became breathless as Gojo kissed you openly, his tongue brushing yours, capturing your sobs, brushing your streaking tears with those calloused thumbs of his.

“Never apologize for your big beautiful heart, you breathtaking angel.” Satoru heaved heavily, hot pants painting your trembling lips as various emotions swept through those big blue eyes.

Your chin was firmly grasped as your face turned to make way for Geto's lips as his thick neck flexed on how much he wanted to swallow your taste to drown out the horridness that is the taste of cursed spirits.

“How did two damaged beasts such as ourselves get to be blessed with the most endearing creature our eyes have ever laid upon?” Suguru whispered, devotion vivacious in his gaze.

Choked whimpers and shaky gasps leave your lips, submerged in their kisses of unified warmth.

“You were with me at my lowest point when I needed someone to hear me the most.”

“You knocked some sense into my dense noggin and dragged me back just so me and Suguru would hash things out.”

“Even prideful maniacs need to hash things out.” You yawned as Gojo carried you bridal style while Geto hurried packing the first aid kit away.

“I'm sorry we haven't made enough time for you, angel. I'm the biggest packing tank for handling the shittest messes those elders can throw at me. Doesn't beat seeing you though.” Satoru purred the last line as he flicked his pinkie finger to get your door to open. You giggled as he fell atop you on the bed, snatching Suguru's wrist as he just came in after. “Both of you~!”

Suguru's exasperated sigh was betrayed by his wistful grin as he smooched the smirk stretching on Satoru's face.

The sky went from cloudy and blue to the warm colors of the sunset.

Giant sculpted fingers traced your face. From your lashes to your nose. Brushing your forehead, your cheeks, then finally your breathing lips. Lost in deep sleep, Suguru watched in wonder at how serene you appeared.

Stripping off that black zip-up work jacket of his to drape over the dresser, Satoru laid down beside you, brushing your hair leisurely.

“So … what happens now?” Suguru murmured.

“Well,” Satoru hummed, raising a finger. “Option one: we keep going as things have been but that will still leave our little lamb all by her lonesome while we're swept up in the war of our ideals.”

“Option two: we both come clean about our secret but be labeled and hunted as partners in crime.” Suguru continued, raising his own finger.

“Or … there's always option three.” Oh Satoru the ominous.

“Which is?” Suguru was hesitant to ask.

“We three elope, you two and the girls can move into my place, we get two cats that look like us and we name them Catoru and Cuguru~!”

. . .

Suguru laughed under his breath. “You're such a doofus.”

“Well this doofus is all for you two to deal with til the end of our days.” Gojo drowsily put as he ruffled Geto's already tousled hair; his bun coming undone.

“Best to ask Y/n about it after she finally gets some good rest, first.” Geto kissed the wrist of Gojo's hand cupping his cheek; Gojo thumbed his earring filled, large earlobe.

“Hai Hai,” Pulling the younger man close enough, Satoru blissfully, deeply, lip lock danced with his best friend, partner in infamy, and one and only.

Well, one of two.

Heated panting hitting each other's faces, blue looked down, to which black followed.

Finally at ease, able to sleep with their distinctive scents and comfy warmth enveloping you.

For the first time in a while — what felt like forever to you actually — you were at peace.

Feeling velvety wet sweetness kissing you followed by another pair immediately after had you humming for more, to which brought you slightly out of sleep at how much they peppered your entire face with their loving kisses.

Sunset turned to night as their own exhaustion caught up to them both, spooning you from both sides, legs intertwined, snores filling the room, as three bundled into one among rustled sheets and strewn about pillows.

Your bandaged wrist brushed their bare wrists as their hands held yours.

Intertwined.

In hand.

And in life.