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medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months

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Fastest thoughts in the west

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain: dub con, drugging, dark themes, dark characters

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ mean! hopper shoving your face in the dirt as he fucks you from behind, you've been so bratty recently and when he got the opportunity to search the woods with you he took it, only so he could teach you to respect him as chief of police

♡ robin x cheerleader reader, making out with Robin in the music room closet then trying to stay silent as someone enters the room, it's hard when your both finger fucking eachother

♡ Eddie fucking you on a mattress he brought into the woods, its covered in cum stains but he doesnt want you to hurt your pretty little body on the various sticks and stones when he fucks you <3

♡ bully! Reader getting put in her place by billy after she mouths off one too many times

♡ dark! Pervy! stepbrother! Eddie/billy/steve/Jonathan, just think they would all perv on the cute little play thing that recently entered their lives, maybe you're taken In by wayne, maybe your Max's sister, maybe steve parents divorced and saw other people, perhaps you're even hoppers daughter. Either way theyd all somehow trick you into sex and be so mean to you

♡ being Nancy's best friend and helping her cum after being denied by steve/Jonathan, sucking her clit and fingering her soaking pussy while telling her that you would never let her leave the house without cumming

♡ eddie paying the cheerleaders in drugs to bully you just so he can comfort you with his cock

♡ scumbag! billy taking you to hang out with his friends (perhaps scumbag! Steve + x creepy perv! Jonathan + eddie who pretends to be nice to get in your pants) who tease you until you're crying, billy then letting you sit and cockwarm him with your head in his shoulder as he rubs your back comforting you as he talks to his friends as if you're not there

♡ dark! Mean! Eddie taking pleasure in turning popular! Bratty! Stuck up! Reader into a gross mess, he'd bend you over at the dingy bar he plays at fucking you near the dumpsters as he degrades you for liking his cock

♡ mean! hopper spanking you so hard you cant sit down for a week, pressing on the bruises that form as he pushes your legs up to your chest as his fat cock hits all the right spots. You dont know if you should be crying from the pleasure or the pain

♡ cutting your lip on Eddie's ring when his hands cover your mouth to keep you quiet

♡ virgin! 001 x virgin! Reader exploring eachothers bodies whenever they get the opportunity

♡ eddie making bimbo! Reader keep DnD dice in her bra just so he can stick his hand in her tits infront of his friends

♡ Jonathan and argyle getting you high just so their hands can wonder

♡ hopper, eddie, steve, billy and Jonathan cumming into shot glasses so bimbo! Reader can try to guess whose cum belongs to who

♡ robin fucking you with a double ended dildo

♡ someone already wrote about this but its honestly my favourite thought, eddie fishing his rings out of your pussy!!!! I love it so much <3 serious brainrot, like to think that he prolongs the finding just so he can see you cum plus the bonus is that he knows his ring has been baptized and blessed by your pussy

♡ 001 with sex pollen, it makes you both go wild and you're fucking like rabbits until you're both passed out and found by the facility higher ups

♡ drugged! Reader gets gangbanged <3<3<3<3

♡ wearing short dresses so everyone can see the Hickies and bite marks that travel to your thighs

♡ mrs wheeler spoiling you with food, freshly baked goods, orgasms and makeup for being such a good friend to her daughter

♡ farmers daughter! Reader getting corrupted by billy whose forced to do work on your father's farm by Neil

♡ being stuffed with various objects to stretch you out by whoever from multiple pens, makeup brushes, a hairbrush and any other type of round object they could find. You should be grateful that they're even stretching you out

♡ scumbag! Rockstar! Eddie x naive! Fan! reader, he invites you back to his room where he convinces you (with his fat juicy pierced cock) to go on tour with him and be his pretty lil girlfriend

♡ dark! scumbag! Rockstar! Eddie fucking popstar! Reader out of jealousy after her song takes over his in the charts

♡ mrs wheeler helping new mom! Reader with her milk filled tits after they become so sore and swollen from not enough use

♡ mean! Whoever x crybaby reader, they pull your panties just so they pinch your clit, they bend you over their lap when you're with their friends just so you flash them all, you cry and try to wriggle away but you're not strong enough

♡ being the office slut in the police station but no one is allowed to do anything about it as your hoppers slut so everyone has to get blue balls

♡ working at a cute lil diner with your short little dress, having hopper as your favourite customer especially when he slips his fingers in you as a tip

♡ mean! perv! 001 x innocent reader -stealing your used panties then blackmailing you with them, knowing that he will get in trouble for having them rather then you

♡ 001 putting a muzzle on feral experiment! Reader when he fucks her to show dominance

♡ bully! Reader making fun of Steve for getting no pussy only for her to be bent over in a alleyway with his cock balls deep in her

♡ thoughts go especially hard about my braces being caught on Eddie's pubes <3 makes me like my braces more when I think of the getting caught on his rings too <3<3<3

♡ speaking of braces heres some thoughts about them, some self indulgence if you will

- mean! Billy sewing your mouth shut with elastics after you get bratty with him

- steve liking the feeling if them catching on his cock

- vampire! Eddie jissing you more when your braces make your gums bleed, let's you spit in his mouth <3<3

- making your lip bleed when they try to cover your mouth and accidentally pressing too hard

♡ anyway back to your scheduled program

♡ hopper x puppy kink!!! Hed call you a good girl, youd have a little tail plug and a pair of cute fluffy ears. Hed fuck you so hard from behind and youd take it because that's what your made for

♡ your boyfriend calling you while they're balls deep you not stopping when the phone rings, forcing you to answer and speak as if you arent clenching around them

♡ robin making you squirt after you worry that you're not able to after your boyfriend couldnt hit the spot

♡ having bruises on you hips from how hard they throw you back on them

♡ Fucking in the park in the summer!! short dress, cute frilly socks and soft cotton panties that get shown when the wind blows or when you bend over to open the picnic basket !!!! <3<3<3

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley x reader #argyle x reader #jonathan byers x reader #tw: stepcest #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #karen wheeler x reader #joyce byers x reader #murray bauman x reader #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #vecna x reader #chrissy Cunningham x reader

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smokerswifey · 7 days

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Guys I had a dream last night where adult Nasiens and Percival leave Brittania after the war against Arthur to settle in a little territory/land like God's Finger .

They get married and have a little girl with dark green hair, the prettiest golden/brown eyes you've ever seen and a smile so bright she could light up the entire room .

She's the absolute love of their life . Percival is ( obviously) a girl dad and let's her messily braid his long hair or paint his face atrociously with makeup . Despite the sparkly mess on his face he'll always gasp in delight when she proudly holds up her rhinestone orned mirror to his face and hug her tightly saying " Thanks kiddo I look beautiful 😊😊 "

He's very obviously lying but the toothy grin abd the hug that he gets from his little girl is worth it .

She's basically a mini Percy but with darker hair and brown eyes .

And Nasiens gosh Nasiens loves their little girl ( I'm using they cause I don't know if in the future he's going to remain a he or a she, so I'm keeping the pronouns neutral for know ) who runs on her wee little legs to hug his knees tightly and say the most adorable things ever like " You're so prettyy Mama/Papa" or " I love you so so much more than the whooooole world " .

And Nasiens eats it allll up, plucking the little girl from the floor to tuck her into their arms and to kiss her fluffy hair adoringly .

She's a very energetic little bean, running and bouncing around at every second . A very curious and sharp kid tooo always asking questions. Like... always 💀.

She's also very good at hand to hand combat, her and Percy roughouse all the time much to Nasiens dismay .

( " PERCY YOU DID NOT JUST DROPKICK OUR DAUGHTER-"

" BUT HONEY SHE ASKED ME TOO TEACH HER !" )

For her magic tho I haven't really figured put what it is and I would really appreciate some ideas :))

As for her race she technically has human/life spirit ??/ giant and fairy blood running through her veins so there are a lot of options for her magic lmao .

Zeldris and Gelda are crazy about her .

Zel actually burst into tears when they announced that they were expecting.

He burst into tears when he heard that she was born .

And he burst into tears when he saw her for the first time .

( he was very embarrassed and forbids everyone from speaking about it but Meliodas heard and calls him crybaby now 💀 )

Anywas he's always asking Persiens to babysit her, like all the fucking time .

P : Dad its been three times in a row, we can find another sitter if ya want ?

Z : Nonsense son * plucks the baby out of Percy's arms and pulls her gently into his * You and Nasiens need some alone time hmm ?

N : Alone time can wait, Zeldris-San we really don't want to bother you-

Z : Bother me ??? * dramatically puts a hand over the baby's ears as is he wanted to shield her from what Nasiens said even tho she can't understand *Bothering me with this angel ?

* gazes into her big eyes adoringly.*

Never .

*looks to the couple*

To be honest I'm doing this more for myself than for you guys lmao, I just want to spend time with my beautiful grandaughter, isn't that right my little monster?

B : *coos happily *

Z : * strokes her cheek softly * You two can go now have fun *he says dismissively and turns around * You want grandpa to read you a story about how he killed a thousand godesses in one day ??

P : Please don't Dad .

Z : *pretends he can't hear* oh son you're too far, love you, have fun, byeee.

He would be the silliest grandpa .

And Gelda, Diane and King would have an amazing relationship with her naturally .

My imaginative juice has ran out for today but please expect ro hear more about Persiens daughter 🥰🥰.

AND COULD Y'ALL PLEASE HELP ME FIND A NAME FOR THIS FRICKIN KID I HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭

#nanatsu no taizai #mokushiroku no yonkishi #4koa #seven deadly sins #percival #lancelot #tristan liones #gawain #nasiens 4koa #nasiens #persiens #percival x nasiens #oc #oc ideas

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kidstemplatte · 7 months

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one step more

summary: terzo catches his daughter sneaking out of the house.

it is stated that violetta has a mother (presumably reader). more notes at the end. i hope you enjoy <3

“One step at a time, Violetta.” The drunken teenage girl thought to herself, walking down the dark hallway to your section of the abbey. The hall had never felt this long before. Sure, she complained like a bitch every time she left something in the commons after just getting comfortable in bed, having to walk through the lengthy corridor in her pajamas to retrieve it, but it was never this bad. With every step she took, it seemed as if the corridor seemed to stretch just one step more.

She inched down the hall, her jet-black hair dirty and tangled, the makeup she spent hours perfecting beginning to melt away, her platform boots in hand. Those stupid fucking boots. So cute but so damn inconvenient. She almost bust her face open twice on the walk home, drunkenly stumbling on the sidewalk before taking them off. She knew it was stupid, sneaking out to go to concerts and parties instead of studying or spending time with her family. But recently, she hadn’t been feeling like herself. She couldn’t explain it, she just felt… off. And if taking a few too many shots and jumping around to the sound of ear-splitting screams with a bunch of strangers let her forget about it for a moment, she was willing to do so.

She blinked, and she made it to the entrance. A large black door containing elaborate engravings around the frame and the name “Emeritus” carved on the top stood before her. Slowly and carefully, she turned the door knob and pushed gently. Damn it, this door was old and creaky. If anyone asked what the noise was about in the morning, she would just say she left her headphones in the commons, which was a common occurrence. She opened her phone to check the time. 1:56 am.

She tiptoed her way in, turned around, shut the door slowly until she heard the satisfying click, and let go. Setting her boots down by the door, she inhaled deeply and let out a sigh of relief.

Phew.

“How was the party, Violetta?”

And as she lifted her gaze from the floor, there sat her father, Terzo, in the large recliner by the fire, swirling a glass of wine in his hand.

Shit.

Violetta stood by the door dumbfounded , painted lips agape yet not able to produce any words.

“And the one before that?”

The silence was deafening. The only thing audible was the repetitive ticking of the grandfather clock, typically gone unnoticed during the day.

“And the one before that?” he continued.

He took an extended sip from the glass, pretending to wait for a response, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to get one.

“There was even one on a Tuesday. Who goes to the club on a Tuesday?” he remarked.

Like this man hadn’t been to the club on a Tuesday.

“I’m sorry.” was all she managed to get out, staring at a singular spot on the carpet rather than into his eyes, trying to maintain her balance.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the couch across from him.

Violetta dragged herself over to the couch, putting a concerning amount of thought into each step. While she sat down, Terzo placed the glass onto the coffee table as she attempted not to look at it. She’d rather stare into her father’s disappointed eyes than look at any kind of alcohol right now. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn.

“Are you drunk?” Terzo asked, leaning forward, his tone eerily indistinguishable.

“Uh…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

There was no point in trying to hide it.

“Violetta…” her father said, rubbing his face with his hands.

He then started rambling, going off on what was presumably some sort of lecture about sneaking out. But as he kept talking, he kept getting quieter, and everything else got louder. A sickly feeling in her stomach began to grow, and a dull ache in her head was becoming more and more noticeable.

“Give me one moment.” Terzo said, standing up and exiting the room.

Fuck, he was gonna tell Mom.

Violetta shut her eyes, focusing on her breathing as the fatigue grew by the second with each tick of the clock. Her body was heating up, a tingling feeling spreading throughout her body. She was so embarrassed, caught by her dad while she was shitfaced out of her mind. She wanted to go to bed and wake up and feel better, and pretend this was all a bad dream.

When she opened her eyes, she was not faced with her mother, rather than her father, kneeling in front of her, wiping off the smudged black and white paint on her face. She really was her father’s daughter.

Terzo looked down at his daughter’s face, his heart growing with each swipe of the makeup wipe, as more and more of her was revealed. It had been so long since he’d seen her. His daughter. After he was done taking off her makeup, he tossed the wipe on the table.

The walls were spinning. Her stomach was churning. Her head was pounding.

“I think I’m gonna-“

Terzo quickly grabbed a large plastic bowl he had set on the table, previously gone unnoticed, and handed it to his daughter.

Just as the discomfort reached its climax, she retched into the bowl, emptying the contents of her stomach. When she was finally done, she set the bowl on the side of the table.

Much better.

“Better?” Terzo asked, sitting beside Violetta on the couch.

“Yeah.” She said, shooting him a weary thumbs up. Her headache was fading away, her stomach settled, and her body began to cool down.

“Good.” he replied.

And just moments after she felt the relief from the physical pain, another pain started to settle in: emotional pain. She didn’t know why it happened. It just did. Her chest started to ache, her throat tightened up, and her vision started to blur with tears.

“Are you mad at me?” she squeaked timidly, voice cracking.

“No.” he replied.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” he confirmed with a brief nod.

“Being a parent is weird, even after all this time. Of course when I see you leaving the house and partying I at first want to get upset. You know, I did the same things when I was your age. Worse. I was a party animal. Maybe ‘was’ is not the proper word. But I settled down after we had you. But nobody ever talked to me about it. I was scolded before I even understood the consequences of what I was doing. So I want to ask, how are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” she replied, somewhat honestly.

The tears welling up finally escaped her eyes, uncontrollably streaming down her face as she let out soft gasps and hiccups.

“Oh, la mia stellina, do not cry… It’s okay.” He reassured her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.

It had been so long since they had hugged like this, since they had had a moment, just the two of them together. “I’m sorry it has taken me this long to check in on you.” He said as the two pulled away from their embrace.

“No, it’s okay, I’m sorry I’ve been sneaking out.” Violetta apologized, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Maybe we are both sorry. That’s okay.” He reassured her.

“Yeah.” She sniffed.

“I mean, honestly, it’s not all because I’m feeling weird. Going out is… fun.” She admitted.

“Trust me, I know. You are a teenager. You will go out and do teenage things. I cannot stop that. You are growing up. But I also want to make sure you’re being safe. That is my greatest concern. No taking anything from strangers, no walking alone at night, you know. You know this. You are smart, Violetta. That is why this is worrying me that something else is going on.”

“I’ve just been feeling weird. Different. I don’t know if depressed is the right word-“

“You have not been thinking of hurting yourself, have you?” Terzo interrupted, his facial expression morphing into one of panic as he collected both her hands in his.

“No.” she replied.

“You promise?” He said, voice dropping into a low whisper.

“Yes.”

“You promise me?”

“Yes, Papa. I promise.” she reiterated, looking into his eyes.

Papa.

He missed that word.

“Okay.”

“I don’t know, I just don’t really feel like myself. Just different. Like I’m watching my life go by and I’m just… inside my body.” she explained.

“Violetta, you can tell me these things. I am always here for you. I want to be a part of your life. I have no idea what an ideal father looks like. But I try my hardest to be one. I miss talking to you. The longest conversations we have are when we’re arguing. I do not want it to be this way. But that is how it has become.”

A looming silence spread throughout the room, leaving nothing but the faint sound of ticking until Terzo let in a shaky breath.

“Tell me, Violetta, what can I do to change this?”

And in a newly adopted, weaker tone, Terzo muttered,

“What can I do to be a part of your life again?”

“You will always be a part of my life, Papa. Even if you aren’t always with me. You don’t have to do anything else. This is all I needed. A reminder.” She reassured him.

“I will always do more. Take the extra mile. Even just one step more. Always for you.” Terzo professed.

“Thank you, Papa. I love you.”

“I love you too, Violetta. La mia stellina.” He said, pulling her in and holding her tightly.

“Tomorrow we can go for a car ride and listen to music, like we used to? Sound good?” he asked as the two pulled away from each other.

“Only if you let me have the aux.”

“An ox? That’s an odd pet, no?”

“No, Papa, like the- the aux cord.” She explained through laughter, mimicking plugging in the cord.

“Oh. I see. Sure, you can have the aux.” Terzo laughed, waving his hand.

“Oh, and now that we’re being open with each other, can you please tell me about the time you showed up drunk to mass and started freestyle rapping?”

“The time I- how?”

“Mom told me about it.”

Per l’amor del cielo.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

AAAAAAAAAAAAA!

this one was so fun and challenging to write but so worth it!!! i’m obsessed with their relationship. 😭

i really hope you enjoyed!!

more violetta content is coming soon!! and maybe another child as well 🤭

❤️, alice

#the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #terzo #ghost #papa emeritus #terzo x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa terzo #papa emeritus iii x reader

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katsune-nya · 4 months

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Random headcanons that I'm writing down 'cause I got writer's block for the kink headcanons.

Thanks to @devilgirlnq for the help 💞.

Tora listens to Evanescence and has a MySpace account.

Kei is a tsundere, that's the tweet.

Ken uses 2in1 shampoo 😔.

Taka... For some reason I see him being lowkey a christian???

Fuyu acts all confident and shit with love when "advicing" Michi but if he has a crush he just goes 🧍🏻‍♂️ and will NEVER approach you.

Shin is actually not shy at all, we love flustered Shin, but I firmly believe he's just chill with everything.

Akkun is probably the best husband, ngl. He's stable, has a work/life balance...

Mikey has a special corner on his blanket/towel that he chews on.

Souya has to set ALL his stuffies on the bed when he goes to sleep 'cause if not he feels bad for them.

Hakkai and Nahoya sleep like in a starfish position, they sprawl all over the bed, blankets stuck to their limbs, just a mess.

Mikey and Senju drool in their sleep. (So do Shin, Michi...)

Taiju sleeps like a vampire or corpse or something, kinda creepy.

Ran wears a silk bonnet and eyemask to bed. (He's so babygirl)

Ran used to get up in the middle of the night and check if Rin was still breathing 😭.

In the last timeline, Emma got cute overalls to match the vibe when hanging out at Shin's shop, then used them when "helping" Ken (talking his ears off).

Taka and Kei are the ones that respect women the most tbh. Mikey and Ken are cool too, just... Kinda old school? Women need protection 'cause they're weaker and shit? But with good intentions.

Ken is the dad friend, Taka the mom friend, Mikey, Kei, Nahoya and Tora are the bastard children, Peh and Pah the pet chihuahuas.

Mikey didn't one day decide to let his hair grow, he just was too lazy to go get a haircut and it just ended up as we know it.

I can imagine that if shin had a daughter he would go see lil Izana at the orphanage to show him his niece while Kakucho looks in awe along with him.

Ran would definitely give his daughter those black sun glasses to wear... As a toddler.

Koko's son is a fashion icon.

Mikey can't have children, he is the baby.

Draken is so girl dad.

Koko's son knows how to strut.

The machoman dressed like a fairy having a tea party... That's mochi.

MUCHO TOO. Man will look so intimidating with makeup smeared all over his face by his daughter.

He walks down the street at a fair or smth with his two girls one on each hand, stern expression fairy wings and glittery makeup.

I see Taka not having children until he's older maybe.

He had enough kids already lmao.

Wait till marriage type of man (for kids, not sex lmao.)

The *gets closer* "can I kiss you?" Is Taka in the beginning of the relationship.

Shion looks like the type to be so competitive when playing pretend kitchen with their child.

HE CORRECTS HER COOKING BUT IT'S A 3YO PLAYING WITH PLASTIC.

When in real life he can burn the dam kitchen.

Cooked dry pasta but didn't know you needed to boilt it.

Just put it in the pot.

You come back after being out for the day and find Shion asleep on the floor next to the couch, mouth open, with your kid sprawled on his chest, the house a mess, and fast food boxes around.

The state of the kitchen shows he tried

Almost all of them are girl dads.

Not because of being good with women or anything.

But because they all give gay vibes. (I'm joking... Mostly)

Hakkai ain't having kids.

He's a single, childless gay.

He's like fuck them kids, respectfully.

Hanma... Why do I see him having old parents or a grandpa.

His parents had him when they were in their 30s/40s.

Probably parents don't even live where he lives 'cause they don't give a shit or are dead.

Or both lmao.

He gives unsupervised vibes.

He probably got kicked out or snuck out and lived in the streets somewhere.

He's one of the many characters who doesn't get holydays or bds celebrated at home.

I see him living alone somewhere.

Maybe the streets, staying over places.

Or a house that used to belong to a relative.

Or abandoned place.

He slept on the bus stop benches.

But like, he has money for cigs.

He steals or pickpockets.

Maybe some deals, betting... Doesn't even cheat, he's just good and lucky.

Beats people up for money too.

And has senpaiis is the delinquent world.

That's how he got his bike.

I headcanon him and Tetta go hang out and eat sometimes with Tetta's excuse being having to strategize.

And Tetta always pays.

He just does it, before Shu can't even say or do anything.

Shu probably gets seconds yet Kisaki is so used to it he doesn't question it. Just scoffs at him but nevertheless still pays.

He scolds him for eating like a pig but then side eyes him worriedly if he eats less.

And goes like "It's rude to not even eat what I'm getting you".

Will NEVER say that he just worries about him lmao.

Mikey needs a photographer for something as a racer and before Koko recommends someone Tetta goes "I'll call Hanma." And leaves.

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev headcanons

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ophelia-writes-stuff · 2 years

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♥ austin!elvis x colonel's daughter!reader . headcannons ♥

. summary / request : what it was like knowing elvis through the eyes of the colonel's daughter during touring, especially on late summer nights.

. notes / warning : flirting, kissing, suggestive (allusions to sexual themes / desires), mentions of alcohol usage, etc. i'm gonna pretend for this one that the hank show was just getting started on tour so don't mind that lack of synchronicity.

(♥) . . . request something . masterlist . taglist . navigation

♥ You first saw Elvis during his first performance.

♥ Your father, who had always asked you to address him as "colonel" rather than "dad" had practically forced you out of the house, explaining that you couldn't be left alone and that he wanted to see a certain someone, the name of whom he didn't offer up. You weren't sure exactly for what, that is, until he dragged you to the back of a stage and told you to stay put.

♥ It was stupid, really. In spite of the fact of him telling you that you had to come for your safety, he was bringing you somewhere which you deemed much more unsafe than the confines of your own home.

♥ Regardless, you didn't put up much of a fuss, instead just leaned against a wall as your ears tuned in to some of the music that was being played. You'd learned through years of experience that fighting your father was futile and would only cause more issues. He never did listen to you.

♥ It had only been after the second or third performance when you noticed a boy, about your age, who was standing with his back turned, radiating worry and nervousness. He held a guitar loosely in one of his hands and his leg seemed to bounce up and down in a subconscious manner, but what intrigued you about him the most was the fact that your father, who was seemingly trying to remain hidden as he stood above all the people on the stage, had his eyes locked on the boy. And you couldn't help but wonder, why?

♥ It didn't take too long for you to figure it out.

♥ You barely listened in when the speaker introduced him, but you were able to pick up the name 'Elvis Presley' which seemed to prompt the boy to walk up onto the stage and in front of the microphone.

♥ Once he did this, you were able to catch a somewhat good shot of his face. With greasy jet black hair and girly makeup, you had to admit that he was one of the strangest boys that you had ever seen. And yet, you knew you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a slight attraction towards him.

♥ You weren't surprised to hear a deep southern drawl escape his lips once he started speaking, nor were you surprised at the short responses which he offered when asked about anything, really. He was quick in explaining what he was going to play, and didn't offer up more info than needed.

♥ "You've got anythin' else to say, sir?" You heard him ask the speaker, who, with a shake of his head, said, "No, I'm ready."

♥ Everyone, including you, watched in anticipation as the boy-- Elvis-- started singing his song. "It goes... It goes something like this."

♥ The boy's voice was weak when he started singing, the stage fright having obviously having taken over his rationality and skill. The microphone squealed as he just barely sang into it.

♥ "Get a haircut, fairy!" Someone yelled from the crowd, and the crowd erupted with peals of laughter. And you felt bad for the boy, this Elvis. It was never easy to sing on stage for ten people, let alone hundreds.

♥ But, in that moment, in a flash of lighting, you watched that skinny boy in the pink suit transform into someone else.

♥ "Well--" his voice was strong, powerful as it rang throughout the entire room. "You may go to college, you may go to school--" your mind wandered back to the Colonel, and you shot him a quick glance. He stood, starstruck, as he listened to the boy, who only moments ago seemed to be the most self-conscious boy in the world, sing with such ferocity and smoothness. "You may have a pink Cadillac, but don't you be nobody's fool, now baby--"

♥ You were surprised, to say the least.

♥ And watching him move on the stage, your mind considered the notion that perhaps the most surprising thing this boy did was dance.

♥ It wasn't a smooth type of dance or some type of country frolic-- it was a dirty sort of thing, a smooth yet quick thrust of his hips towards the audience and an oddly evocative wiggle.

♥ In every meaning of the word, he was mesmerizing, the most mesmerizing man you'd seen on stage before, arguably. You simply couldn't take your eyes off him. And it seemed that none of the other girls could, either.

♥ To say you were startled when a scream erupted from a presumably young girl's mouth was an understatement. You were even more so when more screams emitted from the crowd, which started to blend into a cacophony of deafeningly shrill shrieks.

♥ The screaming only got louder, and, after deciding to duck further backstage as you were barely able to keep your own composure and waiting for a little while, the music finally stopped.

♥ In came a somewhat battered-looking boy from the stage. Your brows furrowed as you noticed that his pink suit seemed to have been stripped from his figure. "Good show?" You said somewhat quietly, half expecting the boy to hear it, half not.

♥ To both your surprise and delight, he did, in fact, whirl around. He paused for a moment, is if to process what you had just said, before replying, "Yeah, I'd say so." You didn't miss the way he smiled bashfully as his gaze fell on you, and it was endearing, truly.

♥ Before you could say much more, the boy was practically carried away by a small crowd of people, most likely his family and friends, and you didn't see him for the rest of that day. And, for a while, you expected it to remain that way.

♥ That was, until your father abruptly announced that the Hank Show was going on tour, and that you had to tag along like you commonly would when they did.

♥ And, although you were annoyed-- after all, your friends and everything else you needed was all in your hometown-- you knew that you'd never hear the end of it if you didn't come, and, after all, your father was the one who payed the bills and owned the house the two of you lived in. (Though you'd never admit that you partially wanted to come so that you could keep your father's gambling in check.)

♥ When you and the Colonel ended up driving to a remote area to meet the rest of the crew, you rendered speechless upon noticing that that Elvis boy would be the new accompanying act. But there he was, standing in an almost uncaring manner with a jacket slung over his shoulder and a revealing floral top.

♥ Mustering up the courage to walk up to him, you let out a shaky breath upon noticing that his gaze had landed on no other than you. His eyes shone with a discernible emotion.

♥ Well, it was now or never.

♥ "You put on a good show that night that I saw ya," you complimented, walked up to the boy. "Not surprised you've already become an act on the show."

♥ At this, Elvis's eyebrows raised an eyebrow and grinned coyly, and you couldn't help but admire how beautiful his smile was.

♥ "Thanks," is all he said in response as his eyes focused on the ground. "You also one of the performers?" To this, you let out an almost bitter chuckle and shook your head. "No," you pointed to the Colonel, "my daddy's this here manager. He ain't gonn' let me stay at home all by myself, so I've got to tag along." You shrugged, "Usually how it goes, anyway. It gets pretty borin' once you tour enough times, but I suppose I've just gotten used to it."

♥ You didn't catch the way Elvis's demeanour changed, that is, until he spoke up. "Well, maybe this time won' be so bad."

♥ Forwardness, though mostly appreciated by you, somehow always got you flustered. And, even though he wasn't being incredibly obvious, it was still quite a step, and you couldn't help the heat that you felt on you cheeks as you opened you mouth to reply with perhaps a witty comment, but found that the words refused to come out.

♥ Elvis only seemed to smirk but would say nothing in reply to your silence. You were luckily saved by your father, which you found incredibly ironic, who called you over.

♥ During the trip you didn't end up going in the same car as Elvis, which you felt a little indignant about, but you didn't mention it to anyone. Once everyone had gotten to their first destination, you all unloaded your luggage and brought it to its respective areas.

♥ In preparation for the show the next night, your father had told you that it'd be best for you to simply remain inside. Out of nothing but pure spite, you ended up leaving mere minutes after he'd given you the orders. Of course, it was a childish sort of defiance-- something one would expect from a young teenager, but you, in all honesty, couldn't care less.

♥ Either way, you were sure he wouldn't care very much, either. He never really did. Besides, it wasn't like you were telling everyone that you'd gone against the colonel's orders and had chosen to take a breath of fresh air.

♥ And here it was. One of the only good things that remained constant and strong throughout the numerous tours you'd been dragged along with: finding something good in every new place. You'd always wanted to travel, and even though you'd never technically left the country, America certainly differed in every place you visited.

♥ The acts ended up beckoning you to join them, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that Elvis was among them. The two of you ended up chatting for the majority of the time, as Elvis didn't really know any of the other performers and you weren't very close to any of them, either. You found that you were developing a crush on the boy, too. He was humble and sweet, but also had a certain rawness to him that you couldn't quite describe-- a type of rough edge that drew you to him.

♥ And so, when you chose to watch him during his next few acts the entire way through, you couldn't help the somewhat pleasurably hot feeling that grew in between your legs, though you kept it to yourself as you watched him sing and dance with powerful vigor.

♥ Once, much to the dismay of the female part of the audience members, Elvis finished his most recent performance, you watched as he was followed by a large gaggle of girls off the stage. You couldn't help but laugh as you noticed he was doing his best to keep up with the women asking him for his signature. You merely stared in amusement once he ended up catching your eye through the crowd, and somehow seemed to shake off the large crowd of ladies to come talk to you.

♥ "Sick of all the support already?" you teased, shooting Elvis a sly grin. "It's a bit overwhelming, I have to admit," he replied, tilting his head. "D'ya watch the show?" To this, you shrugged and smiled coyly, keen on adding to the sultry nature of the night. "Not like I had much else to do."

♥ At this, Elvis's eyebrows raised in intrigue, and he sauntered closer to you. "Oh yeah?" His eyes narrowed. "Wasn' because you might've enjoyed it?"

♥ "Well, I can't deny that," you stared up at Elvis with a certain unbridled affection in your eyes, and you could tell that something of a similar nature twinkled in his as he took a slow moment and allow his eyes to rake your body. "But I can't exactly say it's true either."

♥ The two of you were close-- so close. Your breaths mingled together and your heart palpitated in your chest. And, just as you were sure his lips would be on yours in mere milliseconds, the very opposite happened.

♥ The two of you separated abruptly at the sound of unnervingly close and loud footsteps, and you turned around to face to other than your father. Your eyes went wide for a brief moment and you lose your composure, but you regain it in a matter of seconds.

♥ "Colonel," you addressed, offering him a tight-lipped smile. He, too, addressed the both of you, and seemed to want to say something, but nothing else leaves his mouth.

♥ You and Elvis didn't speak much of the moment the two of you most certainly shared when you joined the group of performers and their friends, though you couldn't specifically blame him-- it was all so dreadfully embarrassing. And so, you didn't think much of it and enjoyed the carnival games to the best of your ability.

♥ But, of course, you couldn't help but notice when you found that Elvis was nowhere to be seen in the group. The others, undoubtedly, had no idea as they were all incredibly drunk (though even if they weren't, you wouldn't put it past them to forget to bare mind to anyone's absences). And so, you barely offered the rest of your group a glance before swiftly slipping away from the larger crowd.

♥ On the quiet outskirts of the circus is where you found the boy.

♥ He looked lonely, lost, confused. You knew the look for you had made it countless times before. So, when you noticed your father who had seemed to appear out of nowhere about to tap his shoulder, you beckoned for the boy. And he, upon hearing your voice, brightened up and walked over to you.

♥ You didn't miss the anger you saw in your father's eyes, but it didn't matter-- not then. All that mattered as of that moment was making sure you could separate Elvis from the Colonel.

♥ Elvis made no protest as you wordlessly guided him into the mirror maze. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it-- to savor the way your hands would occasionally brush over his skin and your erotic behavior. He indulged in it, even, and you yourself made no protest when he did finally kiss you, greedily, hungrily, and his lips devoured your own, sealing together some kind of fate that you were sure the two of you had.

♥ Elvis had to admit that he was surprised at his character change during the course of one evening due to only a single lady. And yet, he liked it, liked the way you made him feel when you kissed him back, liked the way you made him feel once you shed some of your layers.

♥ And, perhaps after that night he was no longer the rural country boy that his mother had always counted on, but someone new, and he wasn't complaining.

♥ You, too, were satisfied after that night, and although you'd never admit it to yourself, it wasn't simply because you were able to keep Elvis away from your father. Something new-- something good-- had most certainly blossomed between the two of you, and you could only smile knowing it would only grow in size.

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romanstheory · 2 years

Text

I Love you a Roman Reigns One Shot

Day 4/5 For Roman's Birthday Week

Warnings : All Fluff

Word Count : 522

18 +

Roman had been home for a couple weeks nursing a minor injury. It was nice having him home, but I knew he would have to return to work soon since his injury was healed now. We've been married for a few years now, and we have a toddler daughter together. His career allowed me to be a stay at home mom and be with our daughter full time, which I loved but sometimes it was hard. He's been entertaining her so that I can have some time alone. I come home after a spa day with my closest friends. I sit my things down on a table, curious where Roman and our daughter were. "More tea!" I hear her little voice say from her bedroom.

I make my way down the hall and open the door slightly. I couldn't contain my laugher as I see my husband with bows in his hair and a face full of badly done makeup. Roman is trying his best to fit at a toddler sized table to play pretend with out daughter. His head shoots over "We're having a very important tea party right now, you're not on the guest list" Roman says with a wink. I can control my laughter "So sorry, I'll let you two finish" I say through my laughter. Time passes and Roman puts our daughter into the bath and then to bed, bathing himself after to take off the travesty that was his makeup. He sits next to me on our bed in his robe, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Aw man, I really liked that makeup" I say jokingly. "Yeah, I just don't think it fit my undertone very well" Roman replies, kissing my lips softly. "How was your time with your friends?" He asks me "It was amazing, I really needed it" I reply with a smile. Roman gazes at me, like he always did. It was the kind of look that made you feel all fuzzy inside, kind of like he had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and it was me. "You absolutely deserve it, without you Roman Reigns wouldn't exist" Roman says softly. He tells me all the time that I'm the backbone of his brand, that I constantly motivate him. He extends his arm, inviting me to come and lay in it. I wiggle my way into his arms, he's warm and inviting.

In his arms I feel safe, in his presence I feel loved. How did I get so lucky? I served his table back when he was with The Shield and we've been inseparable since. I turn on our favorite movie and we relax together. I hate so much that he has to go back to work, because having him here has been a dream. I know my heart is going to shatter when he has to leave again, but I'm going to enjoy this moment while it's happening. Roman leans down, kissing the top of my head "I love you so much" He whispers to me. "I love you too" I whisper back.

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #wwe #wwe fluff #roman reigns fluff #wwe x reader #tribal chief #head of the table

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melon-cream-enmu · 1 year

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repost from peach-cream-enmu-archive

afab, fem, uhhhh epel pretends to be sweet and innocent but isnt in reality, arranged marriage

BARBARIAN PRINCE EPEL

AND HE CAPTURES THE DAUGHTER/SON/HEIR TO HAVE THEM WARM HIS BED AND TO RELIEVE HIS NEEDS, OR PERHAPS IF YOU'RE INTO BREEDING THEN FOR THAT TOO. OR EVEN (IF YOU'RE INTO IT). EPEL BEING CAPTURED BY HIS ENEMY BUT BECAUSE HE'S SO PRETTY IT'S DECIDED BY SOME NOBLE OR KING (VIL HUEHUEHUE) THAT HE'LL BE FORCED TO BE A PAWN FOR HIM, MADE TO BEHAVE BY THE STANDARDS OF SOCIETY AND BE MARRIED OFF TO IMPROVE RELATIONS WITH ANOTHER POWERFUL RULER. AND YOU DON'T EXPECT THE PRETTY PRINCE/PRINCESS SENT TO BE YOUR BETROTHED TO BE SO ROUGH IN BED BUT DAMN IS IT GOOD. I HOPE THESE ARE GOOD I AM. NOT THINK COHERENT VERY MUCH RIGHT NOW.

-TD

THIS WILL GET HORNY I PROMISE

You were a small kingdom by the sea, unassuming but important. Ethically harvested pearls and shells were used in everything, makeup, decorating, medicines, meals. The Queen of the neighboring kingdom valued your goods greatly, and offered your father his ‘younger brother’s hand in marriage for you, in exchange for your alliance and cheaper transportation of goods and trades. Vil's kingdom being so much larger and more influential, your father immediately accepted.

Epel was pretty, kind and respectful. Your first introduction went smoothly despite your nervousness. He seemed like the perfect husband. Like he was raised since birth for this purpose.

Too bad he wasn’t. Epel had been on his own for as long as he could remember. This was awful but he survived, and well enough to gain some notoriety among the unfortunate. A thief, a pirate even, he became powerful. Now it’s all over. Having been captured by the Queen, he became exactly what Vil needed to put his plan into action. And it’s landed him here.

He was sweet and slow with affection, not wanting to scare you away and face even worse treatment from Vil. But none of that would matter after the wedding. This whole time, any time your gaze would leave his his eyes would roam your body. Your kingdom was fairly warm, so your dresses were always made to eliminate the possibility of overheating. Soft, flowing skirts, bodices modestly tight but almost dangerously low, the tops of your breasts exposed to the air.

He couldn’t get enough of you. How your chest bounced ever so slightly when you laughed, how your body felt against his when you’d slowly move to sit ‘much too close’ by a guardians standard, how you talked to him. The respect you held for him was a pleasant change from the constant degrading and belittling from the Queen.

Finally, finally he could let out his frustrations. The wedding and reception over and done with, face sore from all the fake smiles, hands itching to get you out of your dress.

The moment the door was shut you heard his voice behind you. “Fuck…” you turned to Epel with a look of surprise. Taking off his suit jacket and pulling loose his tie, his eyes closed as he groaned. “Can’t stand these stupid suits. So uncomfortable. I need out of it.” Your hands curled up at your chest as his eyes met yours. “And I need you out of that dress.”

You knew what tonight would be but this was a shocking start. When you wait by the door he groans and leans back on his hands on the bed. “C’mon, I’m not gonna wait all day.” The look on his face is something you’ve never seen.

When you’re stood before him he pulls you by the hand and takes your lips. The gasp you let out allows him space to push his tongue between them. His hand pulls loose your dress and pushes it to the floor. He gazes at your body for a moment, noting the fact you still wore no corset or heavy skirts. His hands wander and yours move quickly to his chest.

Despite his small stature he was remarkably strong, lifting you and tossing you on the bed. Putting you on your hands and knees, tearing your wet panties down, and stuffing you with two fingers. He was relentless, coaxing pleasure from your core down to your cunt in search of that spot, that one that’ll have you crying for him.

When he finds it, oh does he abuse it. “Oh, you prissy thing, never been touched like this, have ya? Lookit you, fallin apart like a bitch in heat.” You shudder and whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, and he chuckles as he pumps your slick onto his cock. You feel his tip kiss your lips and try not to tense.

“Vil wants an alliance, I bet your daddy wants some grandkids, why don’ we give em just that?” He thrusts in hard, but he slows and gently rocks, letting you adjust. If he was gonna let out his frustration on you, he doesn’t want you tapping out before your nights over.

He’s rough, slow but harsh thrusts that have your mouth falling open, your eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs trembling. Your arms start to shake and you’re struggling to hold yourself up as your pleasured in ways you never thought possible. You topple forward as an arm is wrenched behind you, and Epel grips your wrist tightly at the base of your spine and lifts your hips further.

He’s thrusting faster and your mind is growing hazy, and it feels like harsh heaven, and for so long you can’t count how many times you’d seen stars.

A sharp, pleasured cry hiccups it’s way out of your chest and it has your husband groaning behind you. More profanities are mumbled at the ceiling as he looks up and his eyes close.

Epel’s pace picks up and he leans forward. His chest touches your back and his moans are brushing your ear. He pushes your form further into the plush mattress and he falters at the feeling of your cunt twitching around his cock and trying to pull him in. His cum paints your walls and he slows his hips.

He doesn’t stop, only relax and let up on your tiring form. When you look over your shoulder with those pretty hazy eyes and whine, he can’t help but chuckle and give a firm slap to your ass.

“You don’t really think ‘m done, do ya? Poor princess, I’m gonna fill you up til mornin’, and maybe even then some.”

#cream wonderland #cream filled #cream fem #cream afab #cream writes

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notlycheesden · 3 years

Text

Rearview Mirror

Heyyo ✌🏻 this is my first written piece for Endeavor , as a gift for my friend @kogo for the evil exchange. so I hope you like it my dude 👍🏻. A piece I will def be coming back to write more for sure.

⤍ Endeavour x reader

⤍ 3.6k

⤍ TW.incest, TW.dubcon, TW.father/daughter

⤍ Summary:

Enji was trying to be a better father, a better man.

And you never lied to him.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

Everything was always red between the both of you.

It's past four when his phone rings.

He was awake. even on his day off -those becoming more frequent now- years of routine were still strong. His body alert and aware way before the break of dawn for hours of training before patrol, and later to go to his own agency, the literal empire that wouldn't run itself.

He was pretending to be asleep, unmovable laying on his stomach, face buried on his pillow. Deep breaths in and out in a rhythmic pattern. His massive frame takes most of his king-size bed that for more than a decade he slept right in the middle, no reason to let the right side of it unoccupied.

It was almost meditation-like. There in the quiet and calm of his bedroom between his sheets, he could organize -or at least try- his thoughts. A time in his day where he gets lost in self-reflection. The things he would have to do that day, what work in his agency he would have to supervise, and even stubbornly he would do a little steaming out, analyzing his “actions and emotions”, passing commentary from the resident agency therapist threw his way.

“A strict but good man, if not for some, mishaps, from your intense and fiery nature.” was his professional opinion about Endeavor. The man really lived to throw things his way.

It used to help calm his turbulent mind. But lately there was nothing in his head but turmoil.

It was something he would do until 6 AM, when he couldn't take any longer and had to get up, body and muscles aching from staying in bed for too long, the sun already rising on the horizon, painting the sky with yellows, pinks, and reds.

The silence of his room is broken by the ring of his phone. Instead of the familiar tone of the morning alarm, it was his normal ringtone. When he opens his eyes, the room was not bright as he expects, still shrouded by darkness. Endeavor sits on his bed at once, alert.

Getting it from the bedside table quickly, his posture falls when he catches the time and the already saved contact of who was calling him: Natsuo.

Enji picks up, but before he could question the call, the time, or even say hello, Natsuo speaks, voice grave and serious.

“You need to pick up your daughter right now.”

It’s a punch to the gut. One that makes all the air from his lungs escape at once. In a second, he feels like he is thrown into a rollercoaster.

The only thing he can muster in his shock is a guttural and deep bark of incredulity “What?”

Natsuo cuts Enji off immediately. His tone triggering him into snapping, memories hushing in -not the time for this- “She just called. She was a crying mess, begged me to come for her but I live two hours away-Shouto is on patrol and not picking up and Fuyumi is with her fiance's family at the onsen-”

Enji inhales sharply. Dread takes hold of him while he can't even see straight with the sudden rush of adrenaline, sirens blasting off in his head.

“She was supposed to be with fuyumi at the onsen.” His voice echoes back at him in his bedroom walls, he doesn't realize he is shouting.

“Look, this is really not the time. She has no money and her phone’s dead. I was able to get her to tell me an address before the call dropped. she's all alone there. Are you gonna pick her up?”

Natsuo calms his own breaths now after snapping and shouting back, and he can hear shuffling noises on his father’s side of the line. The older man was up in a second, not really seeing anything, rushing through his stuff picking his keys and wallet. He hates the way his father could make him snap so easily.

Enji was completely distraught.“She said she was going to be with fuyumi…” He mutters under his breath while running through the corridors, even forgetting the phone by his ear, his son still on the line.

But Natsuo hates even more the blatant difference in the way his father treated all of them and you in comparison. Always. Like he could fix his mistakes. Hide his sins.

“Well. Think your little princess lied to you old man.”

Enji didn't even register the venom in his son's words, nor when he hangs up on him.

He’s out of the house in a blink. He tries not to rip the door out of its hinges on his way out.

——

He drives fast, almost no other car in the streets making it easier to speed up in his nervous state. The GPS voice droning about the directions, a forty-minute drive that he would make in twenty.

you said you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.

You lied to him.

Enji’s heart hammers in his chest and his flames burst multiple times on his face out of control. His grip on the wheel tightens to ground his shaking hands, his jaw set with such force that he could feel a headache already forming.

Thoughts were flying through his mind a mile a second. Where are you? What happened to you? Who were you with? Were you safe? Why were you crying?

Why did you lie to him?

It was like his heart was being squeezed by dread and being broken at the same time.

You were his youngest. After he realized what he did to his children as a father, he tried his best to do better; connect, communicate, but he was emotionally and socially stunted -Thanks doc.- and by the time he tried to reach out, it was just a little too late.

Fuyumi was the pillar of the household, replacing their mother too much young and having to fit in a mould not meant to be hers, barely holding the treads of the family and house together. Natsuo was out of the front door as soon as he finished high school and got into med school, choosing to live in the dorms and work part-time rather than stay at the manor. Shoto was another history in itself.

And there was you, a couple of years younger than your now up-in-the-ranks pro hero brother, at the time just a pipsqueak. Too young to remember Rei, remember the worst of Endeavor.

And when he tried to connect, you were there. As if just waiting. Wanting your father to look at you. Frail and innocent and just in want of care, of attention, of love. You welcomed him into your life with open arms and heart.

Enji did try to make it right by you. And for some time things were progressing, even his other children were starting to turn their heads around his direction.

Until Touya’s incident.

The media cracked down on him and his family with a vengeance, almost nothing was left unturned or whole.

Natsuo was the first to cut ties. Shouto threw himself into his hero work, completely closing himself off. Even Fuyumi decided that she was done, took the next step, and went to live with her now fiance, completely ignoring whatever Enji tried to shout about costumes or honor.

Then it was just the two of you.

He tried to be a good father.

He was a quiet man in his private life, strict and with a violent nature, but he reached out for outside help to make it right. An older and trustworthy housekeeper to not chain his daughter down at the manor, guidance from therapist to help him become a better father, a better man, anything to do right this time.

Call it atonement, call it his redemption, call it hypocrisy, he didn't care.

He only cares that at the end of the day, you were there at his side, happy.

This morning he saw the note on the fridge.

Going to onee-san family trip,

Be back on Sunday.

You never had lied to him before.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

——-

The music blasting through the night tipped him off even before his car's GPS tells him he arrived at the destined location.

He parks way down the street and assesses the place inside the darkness of his car.

Enji’s way out of the city now and inside the industrial district, the building seems old and falling to pieces, people are lingering all around the street, but it’s thicker there. At surface level the building was empty, but the music was definitely coming from there.

He dreads the worst.

Getting out of the car still in his sleeping sweatpants and tee, he throws the hood of his workout jacket over his hair to conceal himself. He’s going for discretion, get you and get out, no need to make this a public affair. Not with this, not with you, not right now.

He searches around but still can't find you. Half an hour has passed since Natsuo called. He's in a frenzy. Endeavor forces himself to calm down and think.

His son didn't mention music. He looks far into the street and he can see the entrance of an alleyway, he hushes there.

His stomach tied in knots when he sees in the dark your small figure crouched down beside a dumpster. your shoulders ate shaking with silent sobs holding your dead phone for dear life, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were, head down.

Enji barks your name and your head snaps to the entrance of the alleyway in shock, your body trembling and fat tears running down your smudged makeup.

“Daddy!”

In a second you were up and running, throwing your body against him and hugging his middle. He doesn't know what to do first, but he opts for following his instincts. Enji hugs your shaking form, shushing you lightly while petting your head. He doesn't know if it's him or you who's shaking more.

He doesn't remember how, but he manages to walk both of you to his car without being seen, his hulking form covering your smaller one.

He's shaking. When Enji puts you in the passenger seat and the car lights momentarily shine everything in an amber glow, rage fills his chest. You are in a dress he has never seen before, he knows it was not yours. He would never allow a thing like that or let you use it in public. Your makeup that before being ruined by your smudging and crying, was heavy and meant to seduce.

He closes your door and gets in the car.

He's shaking.

——

Enji can only control himself enough to not rip the wheel or step on the gas right through the flooring for only three blocks. and thank the gods again for the hour, because he could not quite see the streets in front of him. If they weren't deserted while he drives double the velocity permitted, it would be likely that the fears of his family being again under the cruel and ravenous judgment of the public eye would become reality, although for a completely different reason from the ones he has been dreading until this point.

When he reaches the fourth block, he makes a sudden stop, turning and parking harshly with the front of the car almost all the way over the curb, the tires skidding loudly into the quiet of the night and scaring you out of your still shell shock state. your small sniffles stop when you let out a muted yelp of surprise.

Enji quickly pries his hands that have a death grip on the wheel and smash the roof of the car to turn the lights on in such a way that later he’s impressed he didn't send the entire ceiling flying. As fast as he did that and the darkness of the car is now cast in warm gold, his hands are on your small frame like a striking snake, a big calloused one gripping your face between meaty fingers, squeezing your wet cheeks and the other one in your far shoulder, turning you in his direction with a barely controlled yank. Enji wasn't sure if the shaking was coming from your body or his.

He's frantic, hectic, eyes going up and down your body trying to find anything, something. “Are you hurt? tell me,” His voice is harsh, too loud into the small space. You jump startled, but his grip locks you in place, he doesn't notice.

Why did you come to a party? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you do this?

“Are you?? Someone did something? Gave you something, touched you?” He barks again louder, bending and twisting to be in your face now, eyes scanning all over your body. But again and again, they would be drawn to the too short hem of your dress, from your ruined tearstained makeup and down again to your soft and creamy thighs, trying to find a mark, a scratch, a stain. Anything, something.

“Fucking answer me!”

“Dad please!”

Enji lets you go as if you just slap him in the face. He blinks.

You are shaking. Looking at him in fear, silent tears running down your cheeks. Your jaw is set as you try to hold your whimpers back, his fingers make red marks bloom on your face and arm under his digits.

Memories come back rushing. Phantoms scourging in blue flames.

He releases you as if you burn him.

His hands hover in place, and he doesn't dare to move, still crowding you. Both of you staring at each other in fear and confusion as if something would break.

He slowly backs away, and you keep still. He turns the light off and stares at the road.

Enji couldn't take more things between both of you breaking.

He takes a deep breath. Starts the car again to drive back home.

——

Friday nights are your nights.

Enji doesn't really remember when it started. But he knows it wasn't something that was spoken of or agreed beforehand. It happened once, then twice, then his job got in the way, then thrice, and when he noticed, it was a routine between him and his daughter.

Like most things between both of you, it just… fell into place. And it just felt right.

Endeavor would arrange his schedule in a way so that his Fridays would be empty, any emergency at the agency could be easily solved that way, patrols and hero work set on the weekends so he could come home at a sensible hour, just by dinnertime.

He would be just taking his blazer and shoes off at the entrance when Enji would hear your running steps from the kitchen, your pinky apron-clad figure hushing to meet him with a bright smile, eyes shining.

you would get a hold of his tie and gently tug down for him to bend at the waist to your level, your arms were thrown in a warm hug on his neck and a sweet and lengthy kiss on his cheek after he steps through the threshold. you would giggle against his face from the tickles you got from his stubble while warmly welcoming him, the food still hot on the table.

It was one of your multiple habits together, just the two of you. And it felt right.

It was routine. And it felt so domestic, warm and right.

Friday nights are your nights. After he gets home, you guys have dinner, something you cooked by yourself, sending the older housemaid away earlier.

Sometimes it is a new recipe, sometimes something you already tried before. But it's always good, and when Enji compliments your cooking skills and how much he enjoys it, your cheeks blush red. You daintly try to hide your smile as you thank him, bashful behavior so alluring even when he knows is just a little act, playing coy. There's warmth in his chest.

The lights in the dining room cast everything in this whimsical warm glow and maybe it's the beer, but Enji thinks it reflects lovely on you and the color of your blouse today. He says so.

“Looking so pretty tonight, princess.”

The red on your cheeks grow stronger. From across the table, he hides his smirk behind his can at seeing how you fidget in place, trying to contain your coquettish smile while biting your plush bottom lip. The warmth spreads lower.

Only later it dawns on him. Enji was flirting with his own daughter. And it was a habit.

It was routine.

Enji is sprawled on the big sofa comfortably, already showered and in his sleeping clothes after dinner, the second movie of the night halfway through.

It was a period drama and he tries to pay attention to the main points for your quiz about it the next day, but he was mostly checked out, lulled by the comfy dark of the living room, the buzz of the beers he drank, sleep and your warm body draped over his.

He doesn't really remember when it started, but he knows it was gradually. One day in your Friday movie nights, he notices you were glued on his side, and on the next one you had an arm draped over his torso while both of you were laying on the reclining couch, and since then, you were always over him, arms and thighs and breasts glued to his body, but most of the time cutely laying on his chest.

That night was no different. You are laying on his broad chest, using your arm as leverage to look down and back at the tv in front of the sofa, and for you to not slip he has one big palm over your waist and the other in a secure hook on the slope of your knee, propping your bent leg higher across his stomach. Your breathing matches his, and if not by your little grunts and noises of surprise, the redhead would have thought you had fallen asleep on him. It would not be the first time.

The clothes you are using are small and had hiked up a long time ago, a loose tank top and booty shorts, both of them old and worn out, sleep clothes.

From where he was, he could see all your body over his. From the crown of your head to the slope of your waist as it dipped under his scarred hand. His gaze follows the curve of your thigh draped over his waist to the fat of your ass pointing high. He muses in a daze that he could see the inside of your tank top, the soft swell of a breast making an appearance. He leers.

You move a little, and this time, he can make out the shade of a nipple. It’s pert and small and pretty, and blood rushes to his clothed cock, but is late, and he's tired and buzzed out. It doesn’t connect in his mind.

You move. you are getting yourself higher on his chest. Enji feels small hands wandering under his shirt. Presses of lips on his neck. Wet kisses on the stubble on his jaw.

The soft touches pull him deeper. There's a young and wanton body over his. It’s been so long since he truly touched another, let himself be touched. Smooth lips and an uncertain tongue were kissing him, and he wants to devour them. It’s hot and burns and makes his insides coil, his cock hard and heavy inside his pants. A warm slit humping it.

Could have been the tiredness, the beer, the comfort of the situation, anything really.

Enji kisses you like a man starved. Head moving and ravaging your much smaller mouth with his tongue. His hand yanks your tank top down exposing your breasts, and now he’s pulling and pinching the sweet nipples in a way that makes you moan against his tongue with a voice he couldn't recognize.

His other hand was down at your ass, guiding your movements back and forth on his erection with vigor, the friction against your slit makes you weak, but he keeps you moving, his calloused hand encompassing most of your behind. At each needy thrust his fingers would slide down between the cleft of your ass more and more.

His meaty fingers push the bottons of your shorts aside with a flick of his wrist, and now he's touching directly your puffy lips that are messy and wet all over. Enji growls in your mouth as you moan louder when he starts playing with your pussy, a pitched whine as he flicks your clit up and down, a strong hold on your breast.

A loud bang from the TV is what snaps him back to reality.

It was his daughter.

His daughter was over him. It was his daughter that was humping his cock, that he was sucking her small tongue and tweaking her nipples until he made her squeal.

He jumps to his feet and throws you across the couch.

Different from him, you look wide awake. Flushed face and startled eyes stares up at him, exposed breasts still heaving. Nipples rosy and hard. Between your legs, a glistening trail of where his fingers dragged when he ripped them off of you. Your shorts are drenched.

There's a moment of silence.

Enji snaps. He sprints to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room.

He locks his door, drops to the floor, and whips his hard and heavy cock out. in three pumps, thick ropes of cum cover his hand and clothed middle.

Taking big gulps of air trying to calm his breathing, his eyes glancing everywhere in a panic state, he looks down, and spot the wet patch on his clothed thigh. Yours juices that leaked on him. Its still in his other hand, fingers wet.

Enji wants to cry.

He tried to be a good father.

He ruined it again.

#endeavor x reader #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #Enji todoroki x reader

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marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Text

pretty special

PAIRING: pornstar!sebastian stan x pornstar!reader

SUMMARY: you shoot your first scene with the acclaimed and widely admired adult film star, sebastian stan.

WARNINGS: cliché porn scenario (dad's friend) + daddy kink + age gap + dirty talk + oral (m and f rec.) + unprotected sex + creampie

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTES: this was part of this fic for tom but i extracted it in case some sebastian fans that don't read for tom wanted to read it, since i'm going to be writing for him now :)

––✧––

You were a bit nervous walking into work––working with one of the biggest stars was understandably a daunting experience. You didn’t want to seem like a complete amateur next to him, especially not when you were working with him. And on top of that, you’d been watching his videos for years now, since you were a teenager, and he never once lost his charm or his spark.

You could see how he’d evolved throughout all of his videos––when he was just a young fresh face that captured the hearts of many, to his long-haired phase, to his short hair and stubble phase, each and everyone one was just as enchanting and seductive.

You’d seen the way he managed to have chemistry with every actress he worked with––how they would all fall under his allurement, get flustered from just one look. If you were being honest, you could see Tom becoming the next actor of that status––he’d already had such a good reputation among the industry and the viewers seemed to love him as well. So the fact that you were going to get the opportunity to be with both of them? Well not at the same time, but if you did, you would most certainly melt on the spot. But even separately––You felt like you were going to combust.

Sebastian was now in his late thirties, but he looked better than ever, his eyes just as smoldering, even through a screen. He kept his hair short now and often let his beard grow out, which you personally loved. Since he had a very promising reputation––and everyone that he’s worked with has only had enticing things to say about him and his skills, you couldn’t say that you weren’t excited and honored to work with him.

The scene you were filming today took place in multiple places, all of which were in a home––so for work today you showed up to one of the many unfinished houses the agency used for filming. Within no time you were dressed and in the makeshift makeup room in one of the spare bedrooms with Olive, the makeup artist, putting the finishing touches on your face. Your look was supposed to be more natural today so it didn’t take too long since you only needed some light coverage.

“You nervous sweetie?” She asked, dabbing the beauty blender under your eyes.

You looked up at her, a sheepish smile on your face. “Of course I am, it’s Sebastian Stan.”

She waved you off, “Oh don’t be. He’s the sweetest thing, really.” She placed the beauty blender on the vanity. “You know a little birdie told me that he asked for you personally.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What? Are you serious?”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “And he doesn’t do that for just anyone, so he must think you’re pretty special.” She started cleaning up her station. “That should put you at ease, right?”

“I mean…” You looked into the mirror and trailed off when you noticed a familiar face walk into the room. You’d never seen him in person until now, so far only watching him on the screen of your phone in the privacy of your room––but seeing him in front of you was something else.

Olive noticed you trail off and turned curiously before her eyes settled on the man walking towards her. He walked over to your makeup artist, a big smile on his face as he opened his arms. “Olive! How are you?”

She smiled, hugging him back. “I’m good honey, how are you?”

He bit his lip, failing to tame his grin when they both pulled away. “I’m good.” He turned to you, “Especially since I’m going to be filming with this one today.” You got up to walk over to him and he smiled, placing a hand on your waist and kissing your cheek in greeting. He looked down at you and you could genuinely feel yourself drowning in his eyes. How were you going to manage looking into them while he was literally inside of you?

“Hi doll, how are you? It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi.” You cleared your throat when your voice came out weaker than expected but before you could continue, Olive interrupted you.

“She’s a little nervous, Seb.” You looked over to her like an annoyed daughter, berating her with your eyes as she walked away from you both, a glint in her eyes, but Sebastian’s eyes never left your face. You looked back to him to find a smirk on his face and you smiled awkwardly.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about honey,” he brought a hand under your chin and tilted your head up when you looked away. “I promise I don’t bite,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That is, unless you want me to.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine and he chuckled as he pulled away to look at you. “Seems like you want me to, hm?”

You licked your lips subconsciously and he smiled, taking your hand in his. “Well you know, I asked for you personally?”

You blinked up at him, “Yeah I heard.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb behind him at Olive’s retreating figure. “From that one I bet.” You smiled and nodded and he shook his head pretending to be exasperated, but the smile on his face contradicted that.

“Why did you? Ask for me?” You asked sheepishly, not wanting to come off as rude. But it was a little strange to have such a big star ask for you when you’re not even that established of an actor yet.

His thumb rubbed the back of your hand soothingly but the action was only sending tingles down your body. “Well I’ve seen your work,” he tilted his head. “And I know talent when I see it.” He stepped closer to you so that his breath was teasing your lips ever so slightly, his eyes piercing yours. “I also know a good girl when I see one.”

Your breath hitched, your thighs pressed together and he squeezed your hand playfully. “We’re gonna have some fun today.” He started to tug you along. “Let’s go, okay?”

You nodded, the nerves in your stomach quickly turning to excitement and lust. “Okay.”

–––

You weren’t going to take pictures before the scene today––Sebastian, having been in the industry for some time now, and having made a name for himself, was able to pull some strings nowadays and have more control over what he wanted. He didn’t really like the idea of faking for the camera, so much so that he didn’t take photos before the scenes he shot, he convinced the crew to take action shots while they were filming, so the reactions were real.

The directors knew not to rush him or the actresses he worked with during his scenes, and for that reason, no one that ever worked with him had to hurry up and fake their climaxes for the camera––they were all completely genuine and just as mind-shattering as they appeared on screen.

The scene you were filming today was different than anyone you’d done before. You were playing a young daughter who’s come home from college for the summer, and Sebastian was playing your “father”’s friend. It was a slightly controversial theme and story, but at the end of the day it wasn’t real so.

After greeting everyone, going over a few last minute things, and getting settled, the scene began.

Your “dad” and Sebastian were in the living room, talking while they watched tv for a few minutes, and you waited for your cue to step out. You came down the stairs and the camera followed you as you descended and panned out to show the three of you as you walked past them to go to the kitchen. You could feel Sebastian’s gaze trailing down your body as scripted, the camera focusing on him as he checked you out, your body also in focus as you moved by the lens.

“Excuse me young lady,” your fake father recited his line and you turned back a sweet smile on your face as you looked at him.

“Yes daddy?”

“Don’t be rude,” he chastised, “Say hello to our guest. My buddy from work, you’ve met him a few times over the past couple years, remember?”

You let your eyes fall to Sebastian and your smile widened. “Oh, right!” You walked over to him. “I’m so sorry. So nice to see you again!” You bent down and watched him take a sharp inhale as his gaze fell to your breasts before you wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

He brought his arms around you and squeezed tight, his hands lingering when you pulled away, his voice low. “Yeah it’s really nice to see you too.” He licked his lips before looking back up into your eyes and you felt your stomach flutter from the look in them. “You’ve really grown up since I last saw you.”

You shrugged as well, turning to see your “dad” not paying attention to your conversation before leaning in to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. “Way more than you know.” He bit his lip and you giggled before walking off, feeling his eyes stuck to your ass that was peeking out of your shorts.

You went to the kitchen to get a snack, conveniently walking so that the camera didn’t pick up the unfinished portion of the house, nearby. You followed the script, pretending to look around, a thoughtful look on your face as you picked up random fruits while Sebastian stared at you from the other room. After a minute or two, you turned around and went into the fridge, scanning the almost empty shelves before bending down to look near the bottom.

You felt a pair of hands slide over your ass to hold your waist and a rather impressive bulge press into your backside. “Pardon me.” You could hear the smirk in his gravelly voice as he reached over you, your body still bent over and pressed into his front. He grabbed a bottle from the top shelf before pulling away and leaning against the counter next to the fridge. You looked to the side to see him opening a bottle of water, a cheeky smile on his face as he shamelessly checked you out. “Just getting water.” He sipped from it without looking away from you and you bit your lip.

“Of course.” You closed the fridge and walked up to him as he was tilting the bottle down from his lips. You reached over behind him on the counter, while subtly grabbing his bulge in his jeans. He gasped and looked down at your hand, then across to the other room to make sure your “father” wasn’t watching before turning his head to you.

You bat your eyelashes up at him, teasingly innocent and brought your hand back to show the banana you’d just gotten. “And I was just getting a snack.” You squeezed him harder and pulled away completely, leaning on the kitchen island across from him as you peeled the fruit. His eyes were mesmerized as he watched you lick along the banana, your gaze unwavering. You slowly put the fruit into your mouth as far as you could go and his jaw dropped as you started bobbing your head up and down.

Just as it stated in the script, ever so distracted and preoccupied, his hand “accidentally” squeezed the water bottle and water splashed everywhere and all over the floor. He cursed loudly and your “dad” perked up.

“Everything alright?”

Sebastian looked up, convincingly looking flustered and you turned. “Yeah! We just spilled some water, but it’s okay I’ll clean it up!”

“Okay. Thank you sweetheart.”

You turned back around and grabbed some napkins, getting down on your knees in front of Sebastian and his eyes followed you all the way down. You half heartedly wiped down the tiles before looking up at him. Your eyes trailed down his body and you smirked, grabbing his hand. “Your hand is all wet. Let me get that for you.” Before he could say anything, you swiped your tongue along his fingers. You kept your eyes on his as your tongue made its way around his hand. You slipped two of his fingers into your mouth and he paused before slowly sliding them in and out, almost making you gag and you smiled up at him as you pulled off.

Your hands slid up his legs, one of them grazing his bulge as you made your way up to his zipper but his hand stopped you from going any further. He clenched his jaw, looking ahead before looking back down at you. “Your dad––”

You shook your head eagerly, “He won’t see anything.” The kitchen island was conveniently tall enough to hide you, so you weren’t lying. “You just have to be quiet.” You blinked up at him. “Can you do that?”

He bit his lip. “Shit––” He brought a hand up to rub the back of his head and let go of the hand of yours that he was holding. “O––Okay.” His hand came down to caress your cheek gently and you quickly turned your head to kiss his palm before reaching up and slowly unzipping his jeans. You pulled his pants and briefs down a bit before pulling his cock out and stroking it lightly but he quickly captured your attention again before you could gawk at his size, his hand firmly grabbing your jaw to make you look up at him. “Keep your eyes on me baby girl, got it?” You nodded immediately.

“Yes, got it.”

His grip tightened. “Yes who?”

You tilted your head, pretending to be confused. “Yes… daddy?”

He smiled, cooing down at you. “Such a good girl.” He briefly glanced up to the living room before looking back at you. “Now spit on daddy’s cock. Get it nice and wet for me.”

You nodded, “Yes daddy.” You gathered the drool in your mouth before spitting on his cock and stroking it. You licked along the base before wrapping your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it and sucking hard, making him grip the counter behind your head.

He cursed, “That mouth is fucking amazing, doll.”

You smiled as best you could around him, knowing that that line wasn’t in the script––you were just doing a good job and he felt the need to let you know. You felt yourself get wetter in your shorts and luckily enough, your next instruction was to bring a hand down to touch yourself in the scene. Your hand slipped past your cotton shorts and you brought your fingers down to swipe through your wetness and spread it along your slit before rubbing your clit. You hummed around Sebastian’s length and he pulled you into him, a hand around the back of your neck as he shallowly thrust into your mouth, not wanting to hurt you or make you gag too hard.

“God, are you touching yourself baby girl?” You looked up at him, pretending to be embarrassed and he chuckled breathlessly. “Such a filthy little slut aren’t you? Touching yourself, sucking my big cock and calling me daddy while your real father is sitting just in the other room…” He tutted playfully. “What a naughty fucking girl you are.” You whined and his mouth dropped open as you started sucking harder.

“Gonna make me cum. Keep doing that. Yes, just like that.”

Your “father” spoke up, asking Sebastian if he was coming back and Sebastian gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes as you stroked him quickly, your mouth sucking his tip loudly and harshly. He coughed in a useless attempt to cover the sound and looked around awkwardly. “Uh yeah! Yeah, just uh in a minute.”

“Okay but the game’s getting good man! Don’t wanna miss it.” He paused, “Hey have you seen my daughter around?”

You hummed around Sebastian and his eyes rolled back for a second before he straightened out. “Uh no, nope I haven’t seen her.”

“Huh, well I’m sure she’s fine. She knows how to take care of herself.”

Sebastian looked down at you, your hand still between your thighs. “Damn right she does.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he locked eyes with you. “Know how to take care of me too, don’t you?” He nodded, “Mhm, yes you do.” Seeing him above you like that, hearing the praises he was whispering to you in his deep voice were enough to get you worked up. You could feel yourself getting closer and just as your cue came to orgasm, you didn’t have to fake it. You moaned and your back straightened out, your thighs closing around your hand as you came in your shorts. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your reverie and started bobbing your head up and down and Sebastian bit his fist, his hand gripping your neck as he thrusted a few times before cumming in down your throat.

You sucked around him as he throbbed in your mouth and he breathed out roughly as he pulled out. You smiled up at him, showing his release to the camera before swallowing it and showing him your tongue afterwards. He pulled you up and took the hand that was in your shorts, bringing it up to his lips before slipping your two fingers coated in your wetness, into his mouth. He kept his eyes on yours as he licked and sucked them clean, a seductive look in his stare.

Your lips parted in arousal and shock as he pulled away, a smirk on his face. “Delicious.” Your hand fell down to your side and you blinked a few times, looking up at him.

“Come find me in my room so you can return the favor.” You smiled and walked up to your room without looking back.

He tucked himself back into his pants and went after you after a few minutes, excusing himself to use the bathroom upstairs.

The director yelled cut and you had a ten minute break to freshen up before the next part of the scene. You didn’t have a lot to touch up so by the time Sebastian came up you were already in the bedroom for the next part. He came into the room a few minutes before you had to film again, eyes finding you as you sat on the bed.

He smiled softly, licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “That mouth really is something else, doll.” He laughed, “Almost made me forget where I was.”

You bit your lip as the camera crew came in, setting everything up. You looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. “That’s a good thing, right?”

There was a glint in his eyes as he looked at you. “A really damn good thing, yeah.”

Feeling the heat of his gaze, you averted your eyes and you could sense him smile as he walked out of the room, preparing to film the last part of the scene. The crew made sure the lighting was alright and set up the cameras and the microphones before the director called action.

The camera focused on you as you pretended to scroll mindlessly on your phone as the other camera followed Sebastian up the steps. He paused, making sure no one was around before opening your door, slipping in and shutting it behind him.

You looked up and smirked, setting your phone aside. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

He pulled his shirt off as he walked towards the edge of the bed. “And miss my chance to taste that sweet pussy? You must be crazy.”

You laughed breathlessly as he climbed onto the bed and pulled you down to his level by your ankles. You smiled up at him and he captured your lips in a passionate kiss and you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of him on top of you. You slid your hands up to tug his hair and he growled, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head, making you gasp as he pressed himself into you and tilted his head to lick along your neck.

You arched your back under him and he continued to rub himself against you, only making you more desperate. After a few moments and a change of camera angles, he pulled your shirt off and slid down to pull your shorts off as well. He spread your legs slowly but firmly, his hands digging into your thighs as he glanced up at you, moving his head to press teasing kisses to your soft skin.

He kissed his way up your leg before licking a long stripe up your heat, his lips soon coming around to leave wet kisses to your slit. You brought your hands down to grip the sheets and he was quick to let go of your thighs and held your hands in his, by your sides.

Normally in these videos, the actors wouldn’t actually eat the actress out properly, only flicking their tongue lightly, wanting to show the camera and the viewers everything––but Sebastian wasn’t a fan of that method, so he buried his face between your thighs, eating you like you were his last meal.

“Taste so fucking sweet.” He smirked up at you when you whined, your fingers squeezing around his hands, as you squirmed under his hold. His tongue was lapping you up loudly but purposefully as he shook his head ferociously, groaning into you as your hips started to buck into his mouth.

“F––Fuck!”

He growled and quickened his pace before he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Soon, your head fell back and your mouth dropped open, your back arching as you let out a silent cry. Your thighs tightened around his head when he let go of one of your hands and palmed your breast, tugging and teasing your nipples. He kept going until your legs were trembling, and only then did he pull away, licking his lips as he unbuttoned his pants and hastily tugged them off, throwing them off the bed.

He stroked his cock a few times before getting back between your legs and sliding it through your wetness. He tapped the tip on your clit and smiled when you jolted from the sensation. He then slid into you slowly, bottoming out smoothly, his hands pressing your thighs open so he could see all of you. He thrusted into you a few times slowly before picking up the pace gradually.

His eyes were transfixed on the way your pussy was swallowing him whole, clenching around him but one glance at your blissed out face had him twitching inside of you.

“Look at you. Taking my cock while your dad’s downstairs. Naughty girl.” He pounded into you hard and you moaned loudly. He brought a hand up to cover your mouth, leaning close to you as he kept pounding into you, your pleading eyes looking up at him. “Gotta be quiet baby girl, okay? Just stay there and take my cock like a good girl.”

You nodded, your hands coming up to hold his wrist as your eyes rolled back. He brought a hand down to rub at your clit and thrusted into you faster and you moaned behind his hand, your hips moving of their own accord.

“That’s it. Take that cock.”

In no time, he had you coming around his cock, his eyes watching you as you came undone, your body tensing before dropping back down to the bed gracefully, as if it were deflating. Just as you caught your breath, he pulled out and flipped you over onto your hands and knees.

“You okay baby?”

You nodded, smiling back at him. “Please fuck me.”

He groaned and slapped your ass before sliding back inside your tight walls. He grabbed your hips and fucked into you hard, the sound of your skin slapping against each other loud and enticing. He was moaning and cursing, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusted his cock into your opening. Your walls were tightening around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge.

His movements became more frantic, his fingertips turning white from the force he was using. “Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum––”

You moaned at the ragged nature of his voice, the desperate pleas falling from his lips as he used you. “Please cum inside me, daddy.”

He cursed and came with a loud groan, his head falling back as he kept fucking you to prolong his high. His pace faltered and he soon slowed down before pulling out and moving aside to let the camera show the cum dripping out of you.

Once the camera got the shot, he slapped your ass playfully and grabbed it before pulling you up to sit on him. “Such a good girl.” He brought his hands up from your ass to your jaw and pulled you in for a reeling kiss. He licked into your mouth languidly, your tongues playing with each other as you both sighed and moaned into the kiss. He slipped a hand back down to play with your ass and you giggled, giving each other two more short kisses before pulling away and looking at each other, your eyes still cloudy with lust.

The director yelled cut and the shoot was over. Sebastian kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, his hands caressing your body. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear. “Knew you’d be a good girl for me.”

You whimpered and he grinned pulling back to look at you. “That was fucking amazing, doll. What’d you think?”

You shook your head, a smile on your lips. “I feel like I’m on cloud nine honestly.”

He smirked. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

––✧––

@ marvelouspeterparker 2021 –– please do not repost anywhere

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #pornstar!sebastian stan #pornstar!sebastian stan x reader #pornstar!sebastian stan x pornstar!reader #pornstar!sebastian stan smut

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

- Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

- Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

- Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom?

- Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day.

- Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair.

- Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

- I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her.

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been.

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

- You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor.

- You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen.

- What if I need to call out for you?

- I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win.

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

- Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand.

- They look good together.

- It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side.

- What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.

- Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits.

- What do you know about politics?

- What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in?

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was.

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more.

- Try not to escape for the next hour.

- Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

- Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business.

- Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy.

- As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want.

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too.

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office.

- How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

- What do you need?

- I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go.

- I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

- Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca.

- She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up.

- Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form.

- The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

- Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat.

- I just don’t think ...

- You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

- Yes.

- You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here.

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through.

- You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable.

- Oh

- The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels.

- Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically @red-head011 @poisonous00

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mingkii · 3 years

Text

LOVE AGAIN ─✎ 송.민기

❖❳；Pairing; Song Mingi x Fem!Reader (ft. P1h's keeho, itzy's ryujin, and wooyoung)

❖❳；Genre; Greek mythology au, angst, reincarnation au.

❖❳；Words ; 6.2k

❖❳；Warnings; Mentions of death.

❖❳；Synopsis; A mission to find your lover who was reborn in the mortal world became a mission for heartbreak as you watched him fall in love with someone else.

❖❳；A/n; I honestly don't know what happened near the end, very disappointing but oh well. Not very proud of this so im sorry and don't get your hopes up.

❖❳； Note; My entry for @/sleepylixie and @/delicatewerewolfsoul 's hamartia collab. This might contain inaccurate representations of greek gods but for the sake of the story, just go with it. Slightly modernized as well.

The sun rises on the horizon, casting light all over Olympus, waking the gods in slumber, reminding them of the work they need to do. However, you wanted to fight the sun for rising so early. The rays piercing through the depths of the ocean, just enough to peek through the windows of your room.

You stir under the covers, not wanting to get up. The light blinding your closed eyes, preventing you from going back to sleep. You were honestly hoping you won't wake up the next day. You didn't want to wake up in agony knowing there's nothing to wake up to. You still picture his crescent eyes when he smiles, his laugh that echoes in your ears as if he is there with you. His hands that felt soft and warm left a mark on your skin, reminding you of how he held you in his arms.

Every night you see him in your dreams— for a while at least. Your heart was hurt, it wanted to remind you of all the things you could've done, but it knew that if you kept dreaming about him, you would have died grieving years ago.

A loud knock on your door suddenly erupted, a groan escaped your lips. You rolled to the other side trying to bury your head under the covers to drown out the sound. Then, your door busted open, making you sit up in surprise.

"What the fuck," you furrowed your brows, watching your father fix the dislocated door hinge.

"Don't use such language on me, young lady," he leans his trident beside the door. "You have a very important schedule to meet your suitors today."

Your eyes widen, "Suitors?!" You shrieked, your father's face contorts.

“Father, I think this has gone long enough for you to know that I am not interested.” he let out a sigh. He’s well aware of that.

"Look, I understand, but I will not have you sulk for the rest of your life just because that good-for-nothing son of Athena died," your blood boiled at his words.

"No father, I don’t think you do understand," You said with resentment.

You tried to bury the tears back down, not wanting to cry in front of your father. The pent up anger made you want to lash out like what he said was the last straw but your pride was much stronger.

"It's rude to keep them in line, they've travelled far just to get here, so I suggest you make yourself presentable and be there as soon as possible," his last words before shutting your door closed behind him.

The knick-knacks on your shelf shook as your father slammed the door shut. He wasn't mad, he was just….strict, as your father and god of the sea, you are under his territory thus, giving you no choice but to follow him.

You laid back on your bed, pulling the covers, letting out a muffled scream into the blanket. Only kids get treated like this, he acts like you aren't already a hundred years old.

You didn't want to meet another batch of mermen with plastic smiles and fake personalities. They were only after you because of your title, daughter of Poseidon, god of the sea, with a legacy that soon passes unto you. You had sisters and brothers, you didn't understand why it had to be you, but Poseidon himself already had it all planned.

You swam near the big stadium-like structure, with large pillars that were carved so intricately in quartz. The end of the stadium planted Poseidon's throne where he sat so elegantly. You hid behind the pillars, spotting the men that were seated to the side, waiting for your arrival, but you already decided you weren't going to attend. Not this time.

You took the longest route to Olympus, making sure no one spots you, escaping the suffocating vast seas that used to be called home.

"You know one day I could get killed by your dad," Wooyoung set the teacups filled with hot liquid on the dining table where you sat.

It's been a while since you set foot on land, you didn't miss it, the painful after-effects of walking for too long did make you wonder how land dwellers live.

"He won't since I made him promise it," your cheeky smile made him roll his eyes.

"But won't he easily find you here?"

"He will but he couldn't be bothered to travel all the way here," you took a sip from the cup, hot liquid running down your throat.

"I'll be home by sundown, can't have him wash Olympus just to find me," you force out a laugh, wooyoung giving you a sympathetic look.

He knows you are still mourning. Deep inside you are still in pain, but you try to keep it hidden.

"You know, it's been years and he is still bringing me these men I barely even know and he wants me to pick one to marry?" You planted your forehead on the table, hiding your face in frustration. "It's getting annoying." After those annoying years of having to pretend you are ok and just sitting pretty in front of dozens of merpeople, making yourself look like a prize in a glass box waiting for a winner to take you home.

But of course, it's still your choice and you chose to be with none of them.

"Were any of them attractive at least?" You hear the familiar charming voice. You look up to see Wooyoung's mother— aphrodite— adorned in her usual attire, laced with gold sequences, a headpiece in gold, and jewellery that complimented her skin.

You shook your head as you gave her a soft smile, "They always have this forced appearance to look strong and the wide creepy smiles that they think will help attract me to them," she listens to your rant, pouting slightly, "What a shame, you know your father's taste was never that good," she winked. You knew she was talking about your mother, whom you didn't know that well since she is always focusing on your brothers.

"I thought you went out early," Wooyoung questioned. Aphrodite cupped her son's cheeks, kissing the top of his nose.

"I just forgot something dear," you giggled at her ways of babying her son. Fixing his hair and touching up the light makeup he puts on every day. You can't deny how attractive Wooyoung is, you could see the features that he inherited from his mother.

"Poseidon won't stop what he is doing though, I suggest you do as his wishes y/n, or you'll face his consequences," strips of memory to that day cross your mind again. It was truly painful to recall, it made your heart clenched and you wanted to scream your head off.

"Look, whatever it is you want to do, just make sure it isn't something stupid," Wooyoung held your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. You remembered the last stupid thing you did.

You were grateful to have met someone like Wooyoung, he has always been there for you. Even though your father had been skeptical of him for so long, he still let you be around him.

But you can't promise him this time because another stupid idea just popped up in your head.

"Are you kidding y/n? Didn't we just talk about this?" Wooyoung follows you from behind as you walk through the forest. The last time you were here was the day your world fell apart.

You swore to not cross paths where it reminded you of him but right now, it is important.

"Look, demigods are bound to be reincarnated, there's a chance I could see him again," you explained, stepping on sticks and pebbles, slashing through vines and large leaves with your bronze dagger. Mingi wasn't like you or wooyoung who had both parents that are gods. Like Athena, he was created by her from her mind. He wasn't born….normal.

"And then what? What will you do if you see him?"

In all honesty, you didn't plan that far, all you thought of was to meet mingi in the mortal world. Wooyoung's concern for you just became worse when the silence answers his question. You have no plan, you just wanted to see mingi again.

You ignored Wooyoung's continuous nagging until you reached your destination. The tree that grew sweet magical berries that can only be found deep in the forests of Olympus. The berry that could help the gods enter the mortal realm.

"Y/n…." Worry settles in, Wooyoung knows the side effects of these berries. You weren't as powerful as your parents who were able to visit the mortal realm on your own, you needed help and you were certainly not gonna ask your father.

"I'll be fine," you picked a few handfuls of berries and stuffed them in your bag, "Atlantis won't be that far, If I need to, I’ll just come back." You smiled at Wooyoung.

"I leave tomorrow."

"What about your dad? Won't he get mad?" You two made your way back out of the forest, taking the path of where you came from.

"I just told him I'm sleeping at your place for a while," Wooyoung freezes in place. As expected of his role as your best friend, he's responsible for covering you up.

"You owe me big time."

Arriving at the mortal realm, alone and slightly scared. But the sight of what seemed to be the city made you giddy all of the sudden.

You walked around exploring the beautiful structures of the city. Tall buildings surrounding the area, billboards, and giant screens with lights and flashing colours. You were overwhelmed at first but it was quite interesting. It was nothing like you have seen before.

There were tons of people who wore casual attire, some wore suits as they travelled to work. Big buses and cars drove by in the streets— you almost got run over by one, not knowing the purpose of the blinking traffic light; the horrendous sound of the car horn almost did make your ears bleed.

Settling down on one of the park benches, you took a break from walking. The sandals you brought weren't doing any justice for your feet.

Your surroundings were peaceful, pink flowers scattered across the concrete, different coloured leaves decorating the trees, getting ready for the fall season. Suddenly, you felt a gust of wind. The eerie grey smoke rising in front of you. Chills running up your spine, your mind having a clear idea of where it's coming from.

A cold mischievous laugh emitted from within, your initial reaction was to pull out the dagger from your side, clutching the handle tight until your knuckles turned white.

"Relax, it's me," the same annoying voice you dreaded hearing.

"Ryujin, what are you doing here?" You scowled. She was bad news— the spirit of mischief lives within her, wherever she goes, chaos follows.

"Hmm, are you not happy to see me?" Her Cheshire cat-like smile plastered onto her face as she took a seat beside you, crossing her leg on top of the other. Her hair was shorter than the last time you saw her, eyes still full of mischief.

"I was hoping to not see you again after the incident 20 years ago," you spat, hatred lacing your words.

"Right, the poor boy, died so soon," her face turned into a sad look before smiling once again.

Ryujin was the main cause of his death. Your father just made it happen. Leading Mingi to that place in the forest where she knew your father was there, he hated Athena's children, he wouldn't hesitate to kill one in sight.

You wished there was a way to go back in time to stop Ryujin from leading Mingi to his inevitable death. But as expected, she felt no shame or guilt whatsoever.

"What is it that you plan anyway, there is a reason for you to come here, right?"

You kept your mouth closed, not wanting to possibly give your plan away for the spirit of mischief to take its course. And so, you kept quiet. Ryujin clicked her tongue in annoyance. She wished she could read minds, but that's her brother's power.

"Fine, keep it to yourself," she stood up, grumbling something under her breath, "Just so you know, I am not leaving without having a bit of fun," another gust of wind blowing in your direction leaves swirling in a circle on the concrete just below her feet, the puff of smoke covering her figure as she disappeared.

Your mind was in shambles. Usually, she would try and pressure you into answering but she brushed it off so soon.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, the weight suddenly leaving your chest. Sometimes the presence of Ryujin gives you this uneasy feeling, but it was better than getting a visit from her brother. He is ten times worse.

You finally adapted to the mortal world, got a place to stay all by yourself. There were obstacles on the way but you got over them easily.

You lay quietly on the bed, and to be honest, it was a bit uncomfortable. The covers are placed over you up to your neck. You stared at the ceiling, counting rams in hopes of helping you fall asleep. And on your 1117th ram, your eyes finally grew heavy.

But to your dismay, your throat decides that it was parched. You sat up from your bed, wearing your slippers, and made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass and filling it up with water, but before you could take a sip, you saw a figure on your couch.

You dropped the glass, shattering across the floor. The figure whipped his head around and you couldn't believe your eyes. Is this a dream? You must be dreaming… You might have even gone mad.

"Mingi?" You stuttered. You haven't called out that name in so long.

"Y/n, be careful you'll hurt yourself," he stood from the couch, making his way to you. You took a few steps back. Mingi's face shows a look of confusion.

He stepped on the glass unfazed by it. Did he not feel that? Of course, this is a dream, he's not real.

"What's wrong?" His arms out to reach for you.

"N-no, I'm dreaming, this can't be—" you shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. You felt warm hands cup your face, it was so real, your knees so close to giving out.

"What do you mean?" His eyes were the same shade of brown. His hair is styled the same way he always has it in.

"You're real?" Your voice croaked, mingi chuckled. The same smile you saw years ago, but as expected, his face started to fade. This is definitely a dream. It was impossible to have mingi physically there, you saw him….die, right in front of your eyes.

"Of course I'm real," his voice was soft, comforting even. You were really hearing his voice, this is his voice. He pressed his forehead against you, kissing the top of your nose promptly.

At this point, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You sobbed making mingi pull away and look at you with worry in his eyes.

"Please don't leave me again," you pleaded. You wished it was real, your chest grew even tighter. What kind of cruel punishment is this?

"Why would I leave?" He wiped the tear on your cheek. "I'll always be here," he said in reassurance as he pulled you in his embrace. You missed it so much—you missed him so much. The same warmth was still there, but it eventually started to feel cold. Like Hades was paying a visit to take him back to the underworld.

You finally got to see him again, even if it was only a dream, it really felt like he was there, body and soul present. You didn't want to let him go, there's no way you are losing him again.

His image starts to fade, you start to feel the emptiness again. His hold on your body began to feel like nothing, it was cold like ice. You tried to grip his shirt, keeping him from disappearing. You spewed out pleas, begging him to stay. At Least for a little longer.

But then you woke up, hot liquid running down your face.

You were crying, something you haven't done in a long while. Slapping your cheeks, making sure you were really awake.

"Come one y/n, it was just a dream," you said to yourself out loud.

20 years and you thought you were over him. But those agonizing years were torturous. Everything seemed to remind you of him. Wooyoung almost didn't see you for 18 years until you finally decided to visit him. You wouldn't know what to do if wooyoung was never in your life, you might as well have been asleep for the rest of your life.

The clamshell that sat on your bedside table glowed. It was a magic shell that sends messages back and forth in writing. You gave one to Wooyoung so you could communicate from a distance.

"Did you find him?" The letters glowed as they appeared.

"Not yet." you wrote back, watching the writings disappear indicating that he is reading it.

"Time is ticking y/n." Anxiety washes over you again. Soon the berries won't be enough to hold you there and you'll be needing to come back home.

"Y/n, you there?" A voice startled you, making you almost drop the shell. It would be bad if you did, it was a fragile thing, you could risk shattering it and won't have anything else to communicate with.

"In here!" You called out, quickly hiding the shell in the dresser.

"I brought lunch," mina smiled, holding up a paper bag filled with takeout.

The day you moved in, still exploring the apartment that you rented, you heard a knock on your door.

You peeked through the peephole. A woman stood in front of the door patiently, short brown hair— half of it tied into a ponytail— dressed in a leather jacket and denim pants. She looked about 20, maybe 21 but she doesn't look older than 25.

You almost pulled out your dagger but resisted, remembering that they are mortals and you could get in trouble. You slowly twisted the doorknob open, opening it slightly so your body is visible but not the room.

"Hi, I'm mina!" She said in a bubbly tone. Her energy made you slightly overwhelmed. "I'm your neighbour, just next door." She pointed to the apartment beside yours.

You nodded, not knowing what to reply. "Have you finished unpacking?" You tilted your head in confusion. "Do you need help with boxes or anything?"

You looked back in your apartment, body moving aside just enough for Mina to have a clear view.

"Did you not bring any stuff?" You shook your head.

"I only brought a satchel," you gripped the strap that hung across your body. She gazes at the small bag attached to your body.

"Well, it looks like you need help settling in, why don't I cook dinner for you? You don't seem to have any pots or pans or food either." Your stomach grumbled at the mere mention of food.

Mina giggled, making you heat up in embarrassment. "I'll take that as a yes."

Since then Mina has been your source of food and company. She's been a great companion for the past few days. You told Wooyoung all about her and he just replied coldly. The thought of your best friend getting jealous of your new mortal friend made you laugh.

"So, I just started my 3rd year of college, and honestly, I am tired of it— I've been thinking of dropping out but then my mom might whoop my ass…" Mina rants while you sit there, zoned out watching the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Earth to y/n," mina waves her hand in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

"Oh sorry, What were you saying?" The girl pouts, eventually brushing it off to discuss other things.

"Oh right, so I met this guy on campus and he is like, really cute. He is super tall and like, maybe a bit built..." You listened to her attentively but still in the back of your mind you couldn't help but discuss your plans on how to find mingi to yourself.

"Should I ask him out?" You blinked— you weren't paying attention again.

"I'm sorry?"

"The guy I met on campus on my first day, should I ask for his number?"

"Oh totally, you should," you said plainly, you feel really bad for not paying attention but you couldn’t help it when your mind is being occupied with something else. Mina just brushed it off, not noticing your spaced-out expression. She continued rambling while your mind wandered.

Time was running out, you needed a plan.

"Remind me why I am on your college campus again?" You said, mina dragging you by the arm. She woke you up at an ungodly hour just to travel early to her college campus. Few students were walking around campus, on their way to their scheduled class.

"Look, I barely have friends, also do you go to college? You look to be around my age," your eyes widen. Atlantis doesn't have schools, you had to travel to Olympus just to make it to class, but you only had to go until you turned 18. And you are immortal, you haven't been to school for a hundred years.

"I graduated," you just said. Hoping she won't ask further questions.

"Oh so you're older than me then," you nodded. She stopped to sit by a tree in the campus garden, patting the grass beside you. You sat beside her, leaning on the tree.

"I don't have class 'till after lunch, we can grab something to eat before you can go back to your apartment," she took out her textbook and paper to finish what she didn't the day before.

"Sorry for dragging you, You are always locked up in your apartment so I thought why not take you here with me," you were planning on exploring more of the city, just to take note of the possible routes to get around.

"Won't I get in trouble? I don't go here."

"You are fine, besides, it's an open college, anyone can visit here," she explains as she gets back to her work.

Your eyes wandered off somewhere else, spotting the students who were early, sitting on the grass as they got some sleep under the trees. Some were reading books and some were having their breakfast.

It makes you sleepy after a while, deciding to lean your head against the tree, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pair of shoes tapping against the grass, crunching the leaves on the way. You didn't bother to open your eyes so you just stayed and listened. Must be one of mina's friends as you hear her voice ushering for them to sit.

They sat on the other side of the tree beside mina, talking about classes and homework but something about that voice tingles your brain. The familiar deep husky voice made your heart ache. You were confused as to why you were reacting that way.

Soon the person left and you were forced to open your eyes when mina shook your shoulder abruptly.

"Guess who just gave me their number," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Who?"

"The hot campus boy," she squealed, waving the paper in her hand. "His name is mingi and it's kinda cute and his voice was deep, not that deep, but like...deep."

Your eyes widen, "mingi?" She nodded. You felt like your world stopped spinning. Your mind is in shambles, processing the information. Your ears deafened the sounds around you, muffling mina's continuous babblings.

You thanked the gods that he's here, but then reality hit. He doesn't know you for he is only a reincarnation of the mingi you knew. He is no longer the son of Athena, he is just human.

"Are you sure it's the mingi?" Wooyoung's message appears from the clamshell. You lay on your bed, a book on your lap as you were reading just a while ago.

"Yes, Mina's description fits so perfectly," you bit your lip, anxiously fidgeting with your necklace. What if it wasn't him? You can't confirm that it really is him, he has no memory of his past life.

"Ok, so what are you gonna do now? You found him, what's the next step?" You mentally slapped yourself for being unprepared. You wanted to see him again, that was your main goal, and now that you know he's here, you have no reason to stay.

You want to be with him but it's impossible, you are immortal, he'll age while you stay young. Well, nothing much was changed when he was a demigod, but he had the opportunity to become immortal. It's not like there is some way a mortal can become immortal.

…..or is there.

"I'm coming back," the writing disappeared letter by letter as wooyoung's message appeared right after.

"Really? So that's it?"

You shook your head as if he could see you. "I have a plan"

"Oh no," wooyoung thought. Letting out a deep sigh. "She's gonna get into more trouble isn't she?" Wooyoung wished that somehow something would knock some sense into you.

"Y/n!"

"Mina, hey," she threw herself at you, engulfing you in a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you," she squeezed around your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Mina," you patted her back, making her apologize with a sheepish grin, "I'll be back soon though, you don't have to miss me too much."

"I know— wait, are you free right now? I was wondering if you wanna go eat before you leave," you thought for a second. Though it isn't difficult to travel back to Olympus, you're unfortunately on your last berry.

"Sure," you hoped it'll last you for another few hours.

Arriving at a restaurant with mina, ordering food as soon as you sat down. Your eyes wandered around. The restaurant was busy, waiters quickly passing around, trying to get to the customer's table as soon as possible.

"Finally," Mina says, standing up on her seat. You turned your head to the person she was referring to.

"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic."

"I invited mingi, I hope you don't mind y/n," Mina says with a sorry smile.

"I don't mind at all." That unsettling feeling soon washes over you, seeing mingi stand in front of you, face to face. You find it weird to see him like this like he didn't die. He looks like the same mingi years ago, it just felt….different.

You took your seats again, Mina helping mingi order his food. The three of you waited for your orders, chatting about anything that comes to mind. Mina talking about classes and homework that is due and mingi asking if any of you were free to a party this weekend.

Of course, you can't go.

"So, Where are you from y/n?" He asks you. His voice sounded so natural to you but at the same time, it felt foreign, like you just heard of it now. Technically you did but, the way demigod reincarnations work is they get reborn the same. Meaning they'll look the same, speak the same, and their personalities are most likely the same. Nothing will change once they get reborn— except, they won't remember anything from their past life.

"Atlantis," you blurted out, panic rushing through you. You can see the confusion in their faces.

"Like, the lost city of Atlantis?" Mortals, what are they teaching them?

"I mean Atlanta," you corrected yourself, body stiff as stone.

"America? That's far, do you have a flight?" Mina intervened. You didn't even know where that was, you just so happened to remember that book you read before coming here and the main character lived in a place called Atlanta.

"Uh yeah, sure," you felt cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck. You just hope they won't ask any more questions.

You let out a sigh of relief as the two of them get back to chatting with each other.

Finally, the food arrived and the sooner you finished the sooner you got to go home. And with your last berry, you popped it in your mouth after the meal.

Leaving the restaurant with mina and mingi you were finally able to go back to Olympus.

As you are ready to part ways, Mina engulfs you in a tight hug, cutting off your airflow. "Mina, you're squishing me," you said in a choked out voice. "Be quick ok," she gives you a final hug before walking in the other direction.

You waited until the coast was clear and hid somewhere secluded.

You arrived safely and with just a minute to spare. You were gonna go to wooyoung's place first before going back to Atlantis when you saw a lightning strike. A gust of moist air blows your way, a growling thunder piercing through your ears. Your mind immediately assumed that it was Zeus but when the clouds cleared you saw your father, sitting on a cloud with his trident on his lap.

"Father," you said, greeting him with a bow. Though he didn't look pleased with seeing you at the gates of Olympus, he still gave your hair a ruffle.

"You have me worried sick y/n, where were you?"

You expected yelling, hearing these words and this kind of tone shocked you. Especially even after telling him that you were staying at wooyoung's but still found you at the gates

"Look, I know I may have gone too far— with...you know, the marriage," he admits. Avoiding eye contact with you as much as possible. Not that it wasn't sincere, he just wasn't used to admitting he was wrong. But he loves you dearly and he'd do anything for you.

"It's ok, I actually forgot those happened." there was an awkward silence. Then, Poseidon left, after informing you of what time dinner was gonna be.

You finally arrived at your best friend's house and instead of a worried wooyoung, you were met with a furious wooyoung.

"I knew this was a bad idea, your father almost killed me!" He said. You rolled your eyes at the exaggeration.

"Relax wooyoung, nothing happened," you placed your bag onto his bed, taking out the souvenirs you got.

"Did he say anything to you? You are still alive so I'm guessing you haven't met yet?"

"I met him at the gates and he said he was worried." Thinking back to that moment made you shiver, it's like someone replaced your dad with someone completely different.

"Huh, well ok then— Ooh what are these," he was quick to change the topic as his curiosity fills in. Wooyoung takes the bag of candies you brought, ripping it open to take one of the wrappers with the sugary treats inside. You chuckled, watching wooyoung chew on the candy.

He notices your gaze stuck on the floor while you get lost in your own thoughts.

"Hey, did something else happen there?"

You snap back into reality, taking a while to process what wooyoung just said. You shook your head in response.

"Actually, is there a way to stay there without the berries?"

He stares at you for a moment, he honestly thought you were done and you weren't going back there. It's dangerous for you since you are not as strong as your father. Even with something more efficient than a magical fruit, you are bound to get in trouble.

"My mom has a necklace," wooyoung says, he didn't want to say it but he knew how important this is to you. Eventually you'll stop, knowing mortals and gods cannot stay together forever.

"She used to make me wear it when she let me go to the mortal world with her."

"Can I borrow it?"

"Y/n!" Mina ran to you with open arms, "I missed you so much," you giggled at your friend.

"I've only been gone for a week."

"A week too long," she pouted.

She takes your hand in hers, pulling you to whatever direction. You arrived at the airport, making it look like you got here by plane. Passing security check out and exiting the building.

"You still remember mingi right?" She asks.

"Of course, I left for a week, it doesn't mean I forgot anything that's here," she grinned.

"Why, what happened?" You asked, hiding the hint of fear in your voice.

"Oh nothing," she sing-song, trying to stop her lips from smiling too much.

You both stopped at the front of the main entrance, waiting for you-don't-know-who. Until a car stops in front of you. Mingi came to pick you two up, giving you a ride to your apartment.

"So, what's it like in your hometown," she asks, taking a bite of her food.

"Uh, It's….you know —uh…. there's trees and buildings."

Mina nodded slowly as she continued eating her food.

After you two finished eating, Mina left to finish her college work— probably with mingi.

You didn't want to think the worst but considering mina's behavior around mingi, you couldn't stop the thoughts running around your mind.

You gripped the pendant that was tied around your neck. It's pearly white color glowing due to the light reflecting on it. Its sharp edges indicate that it was shattered into parts.

The other half is with mingi.

Atleast, when he was still with you. It symbolizes your promise to always be together and be there for each other.

But fate just wasn't on your side. And it still isn't.

As you walked out of your apartment to get some fresh air, you spotted the two by the parking lot. Their faces are inches away from each other.

You didn't know why but you felt your heart sink. Tears welling in your eyes. You reminded yourself that this mingi isn't the same mingi that promised to be with you. He wasn't the same mingi that helped you run away from home whenever your parents were arguing again.

That gave you a reality check, you can't be with him anymore. You have to let him go.

Your gaze still stuck on the two, not noticing the sudden appearance of another spirit.

This time, it made you feel chills.

"Keeho," you said in a whisper. You didn't bother to look in his direction.

"Oh, I'm glad you recognize me," he said, a mischievous smile growing on his lips.

"Ryujin would have loved to see this, after all, this was her plan." You curled your fist into a ball, tight enough until your nails dug into your skin.

"Why?" You managed to let out. You didn't want this to affect you but it does. After everything you did, it all didn't matter in the end.

"I don't know, ask ryujin. I'm just here to relay a message."

Keeho pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning on and came over to you.

"Don't try to bring back something that was meant to be taken away, it'll come back to bite you in the ass," he whispered against your ear, sending chills down your spine.

Then he left, disappearing into the mist again.

Even though you just came back, you were already itching to leave. Packing your bag and locking the apartment. Giving the keys to the landlord.

Mina notices you in a hurry to leave, running after you to catch you.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" She grabs your wrist making you stop. You didn't turn around, you stayed rooted to the ground. Swallowing the thick lump in your throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry Mina," you pulled your wrist away from her and left. You felt guilty, she was your only friend and she felt betrayed. You left without an explanation.

"Y/n? You're here, did something happen?" Wooyoung read your expression.

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as you replaced the sad look with a small smile.

"I'm great, I just didn't like the whole vibe there," you lied.

You removed the ruby crystal around your neck giving it to wooyoung, muttering a thanks. Alongside you removed the pendant that was tucked under your shirt. Wooyoung was shocked as you never took it off and you swore you never would.

You tucked the necklace into your pocket, taking a mental note to put it away when you get home.

Although you didn't accomplish your original mission, you did realize that it's always good to let go of something. Never let anything or anyone tie you down. You are still heartbroken, but you are sure you could get over it soon.

Of course, the siblings that stared at you through the window, mischievous smiles on their faces, will not let you live just yet.

#8makes1teamnet #ficscafe #destinyversenet #fkp-net #knet-bakery #: ̗̀🌺; collab fic entry #❪ 🐿️ ❫ ─ oneshots #ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

Text

Legally Yours - Ch. 06

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: The dinner is coming up and there’s a little flangst. Also, they are still two stubborn idiots.

WC: 3779

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

It feels like she’s been sitting down for ages and she’s worried about Bobby and Liv. Sure enough, Sam sensed her worries and texted her that they are both being taken care of. So at least there’s that.

Pamela made her slip into the sequin dress after her shower and the woman put some makeup on her face.

“Not too much, okay?” Y/N says, just making sure because she still wants to be herself after all.

The brown haired woman chuckles, “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll just turn up the volume a little, you’re fine the way you are. You have a cute face, don’t want to hide that below too much make up anyway,”

With careful strokes, Pamela shows her how she can apply it herself for her next outings and yeah, Y/N can’t say that she doesn’t like that. Because it seems hideous to always have a stylist at hand, no? She didn’t sign up for this crap.

When Pamela is done, she leaves with a contented smile on her face and Y/N walks over to the floor lengths mirror that’s attached to her closet to catch her own reflection. She wears heels, has to still get used to it because they are way higher than the ones she wears for work. Apparently being fake engaged to Dean Winchester comes with a sacrifice of her feet.

Her eyes trail up her body from her shoes to her face and it’s weird because she thought that she’d probably not be able to recognize the women who will be staring back at her, but she does. Pamela was true to her word, she just really turned up the volume to Y/N’s boring self.

Okay, now is the time to present herself, she guesses. Sam had said that they’re waiting in the study. She’s yet to find out where it is, though.

Sticking her tongue out at her own reflection, she starts to chuckle. She’s living the life she never thought she’d get to experience and god, she hopes she won’t lose herself in it.

With a last look around her new room, she makes her way to Dean’s study.

Dean makes his way into his study after having rushed home after the meeting to take a shower. He had been sweating bullets since this morning and it was refreshing to say the least. It would have been better if his dick wasn’t half hard when he thought about Y/N. He didn’t rub himself off, didn’t let himself go there and jerk off to the image of a girl he paid to pretend to be his fake fiancée. He was afraid that it would uncover things he didn’t need in his life right now.

So, when he pushes the door to his study open, his dick is still semi but Dean thinks it’ll go away soon. Especially when he thinks about the dinner with his dad because that meeting is what nightmares are made of.

Sam’s already waiting on the couch, nursing a drink. He probably had a rough day as well and Dean can’t blame him. He walks over to his mini bar, pours himself two fingers of whisky and sits down with a grunt across from Sam.

“Go on,” Dean says, “I know you have a lot to say,”

The other man just chuckles, “She’s cute and pretty, you didn’t mention that,”

“Is she?” Dean cocks an eyebrow and takes a sip from his drink, “You’re right, I didn’t.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

“Sam,” Dean snorts out the man’s name, “I don’t even know her. She was in the right place at the right time,”

“You were never a good liar. I could always see through you.”

Dean frowns, “What do you mean?”

The other man chuckles as he takes a sip and lets the liquid travel down his throat, “You could have chosen anyone for that. The execs in your meetings, the ones working just below you, yet, you picked her.”

“Are you trying to go anywhere with this?” Dean asks with clear irritation in his voice.

“Wait for it,” Sam says before he takes another gulp of the brown liquid in his glass and Dean rolls his eyes. Sam grins before he goes on, “All our lives, you have never picked a girl, Dean. Mostly they offer themselves to you, even back at school, do you remember?”

Oh, yeah, he does remember. Sam’s not wrong, but still.

“They offer and present themselves to you or your father picks them for you to bring along to social events and most of the time, you’re a one date kinda guy. You never ever picked one on your own.”

“You say it like women are something you find in a field,”

“Am I wrong?” Sam raises an eyebrow to match Dean’s, “Fact is, you picked out Y/N, even though you could have waited. You could have talked things through with me, wait until Carmen gets back and we could have come up with a plan. You know that she isn’t in for you either, she’s signed a contract and was willing to sign that prenup.”

“I didn’t want to wait for Carmen to come back to me,” Dean’s voice is stern. He really didn’t, he didn’t want people to think he let it slide when she’s been cheating on him. How will it make him look? He’s not a fucking idiot.

“I’m just saying that you’re being hot headed doesn’t help us at all. And the fact is still there that you’ve picked her and that means something in my book,”

“What stupid books are you reading?”

Sam chuckles and ignores Dean’s remark, “Carmen boarded the next plane back, by the way,”

Dean takes a sip from his drink, thinks about Sam’s words, “You can tell her that she doesn’t need to show up. I’m not taking her back when I have Y/N,”

The other man’s grinning from ear to ear and Dean rolls his eyes a second time, “And no, I don’t really like her. I barely know her. I just find her interesting, is all. She’s different to all the women I’ve ever met.”

There’s a laugh coming out of Sam and Dean scoffs annoyingly.

Just when Dean wants to open his mouth to tell Sam to shut the fuck up, there’s a knock at the door.

They both turn their heads to see Y/N open the door to his study. Dean feels a rush of blood to his head. How long has she been standing outside? How much did she hear? But before he can think about being more embarrassed, another punch knocks him out when he sees her walking in with her beautiful dress.

“Sorry,” She says, “Am I interrupting?”

Dean has to clear his throat before he’s able to speak, “No, you didn’t. Come in,”

She nods and walks further into the room. She looks absolutely stunning, a really stark contrast to the look when he met her. It’s not that she was ugly before, she wasn’t — isn’t. He can see that she only wears minimal makeup.

“How do I look?” She asks with a smile as she twists around in her dress and somehow Dean wishes that Sam wasn’t here to see her like this.

“You do clean up nicely,” It slips out of Dean.

Clean up nicely? What the fuck did he just say? Who says that?

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Sam chimes in to probably play off the stupidity that Dean just let slip out of his mouth and Dean sends him a grim look.

But it doesn’t stop there because Sam ignores Dean’s look to wink at her. He’s a little irritated by it, to say the least.

“So, Y/N,” Sam says, “Do you care to tell me how you two met?”

“Sam, aren’t you late for your appointment?” Dean interrupts.

Sam looks at him puzzled and it takes another two seconds until he catches on, “Oh, yeah. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m looking forward to working with you because you’re a delight,”

The tall man stands up and takes Y/N’s hand, places a kiss on the back of it before he leaves and Dean tries his best not to let the feeling of jealousy hit him. He doesn’t know why he should feel jealous anyway. There’s nothing to be jealous about. It’s a business deal. He should be used to it, right? Right.

“My father will arrive in thirty minutes,” Dean says drily, his throat restricting the longer she looks at him.

“Is there anything I need to know before you feed me to him?”

Dean lets out a small snort, “I’m not feeding you to him. I’m there too and can help out. When I think of it, maybe it’ll be good if we could establish the story of how we met.”

“Oh, I know!” Y/N shrieks out and gets all excited. Dean thinks it’s really cute. “How about I got into the elevators so quick which made you spill the coffee you’re holding over your shoes and pants? Like, the story is really partially true and it would be less hard for me to make it sound trustworthy,”

“Go on,” Dean nods his head, and empties his glass before he sets it down on the table before him.

Her long legs and the away she sits doesn’t help his state of mind. The dress has ridden up on the couch and Dean tries to look anywhere other than at that exposed flesh that he’d like to sink his teeth into.

“I was afraid that you’d be mad at me so I offered to buy you a coffee to make up for it, but you didn’t want that because you were late to a meeting. But I was persistent and waited in front of the door and asked you so many times if you wanted a coffee and to please let me make up for ruining your suit. And somehow you agreed, maybe just to shut me up. We went on a coffee date every day until we fell in love.”

After her story, she smiled satisfactorily. The smile of a winner if he ever did see one. One he shows too often after a done deal.

“I don’t really have time for coffee dates,” Dean adds his two cents, knowing that it doesn’t sound quite nice but he just can’t help himself. That’s the way he is. The way people expect him to be.

There’s a little pout on her lips, and Dean’s not prepared for that because it looks too cute, “I mean do you have a better idea?”

“No,” Dean shakes his head, “I like it, I never said I didn’t,”

“Good, but I’ll let you come up with your proposal story, okay? I feel like I can’t pick my brain anymore than I already have. It has been a long day.”

“Right,” He stands up and pats his thighs, buttons up his suit jacket too because he thinks it hides his more than semi hard dick pretty well, “Wait here, I’ll be right back,”

Dean leaves the door open and Y/N can hear his heels clicking on the stone flooring until the sound is out of earshot. She wonders what he’s up to, feels a little nervous about it.

While Dean’s gone, she gets up from the couch and looks around the room. The study is spacious, like every room in this ridiculously big penthouse, she guesses. There’s a desk at the far wall, a bookshelf graces the other wall. It’s full of books. She wonders if Dean really reads. It doesn’t seem like he has the time to do so. She wonders if he relaxes at all because he seems so tense all the time. Maybe he only tenses up when he’s around her, at least she can’t help to feel this way.

There’s the group of sofas where she was sitting on but right by the floor to ceiling window is another sofa that looks out over the city. She wonders why that is because the sofa seems a bit out of place.

Standing by the window, she’s looking out over the city, the people and cars seem so small from up here. She doesn’t dare to touch the glass though in fear that she’d leave handprints all over it. Dean probably won’t be happy about that.

She’s lost in thought, wondering over and over again if she had made the right choice. It was a spur of the moment thing. She does a lot of those, like the time she hooked up with Jimmy for the first time. They were at a frat party and she knew him from her communications class. She let him drive her home, even though he was definitely not fit enough to drive but her head was spinning and she might have had a couple of drags of a joint too many. They didn’t even make it into her apartment, fucked right in the backseat, not worrying about contraception.

By the time she knew she was pregnant, it was too late to abort, and honestly, she wouldn’t know if she would have. It’s not the baby’s fault. She and Jimmy tried to make it work, even though he was always suspicious if the baby was really his. Jimmy’s parents were loaded and he had a bigger apartment close to campus, funded by his parents. She moved in there because his parents wanted it that way, not because he did. While Jimmy was still enrolled and finished his degree, she dropped out to care for their baby. He eventually graduated but stayed in college to pursue his Master's degree.

When Liv was four, Y/N wanted to try her chance at the job market as well, but Jimmy was against it. His parents were too, apparently, because they said that she wouldn’t be able to give their grandchild a good future and they wouldn’t stand to have their name dragged into this. She fought tooth and nail to keep Liv and changed the child's name back to her own. And after a long fight, they eventually agreed that she would take Liv, and Jimmy was not to pay a single dime.

Getting out of the abusive and loveless relationship was probably the best decision of her life up until that point. Jimmy drank a lot and was overall not happy. He would lash out at her and she didn’t know why she stayed. Maybe there was a shred of hope that she desperately tried to cling on to.

So, when she moved out, she stayed with Bobby for a while until she found the job in Dean’s company, and then it went pretty quick. She and Olivia moved into their own apartment.

A year later, she heard the news that Jimmy’s parents went bankrupt and Jimmy was trying to hold himself above water after he developed a drinking problem. Apparently, Karma’s right there helping her.

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice Dean returning, only realizes it when a figure is standing behind her. Startled, she jumps a little as she turns around.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” He mumbles as he steps closer to the window to stand next to her and they look out of the window together. It’s romantic, she thinks, with the backdrop of the city, especially at night.

Looking over to Dean again, she notices him holding a velvet box in his hand and smirks, “Is that a ring, loverboy?”

Dean sends her a look accompanied by a little frown. Something that says, I have heard it but I won’t say anything because it’s stupid. Well, he might not be wrong.

“Sorry,” She breathes out, “I told you I tend to babble when I’m nervous,”

He sighs and lifts his eyebrow before he opens up the box and it is as if the air has been punched out of her lungs.

“Wow,”

The ring is absolutely beautiful.

Dean smirks and clears his throat before he speaks, “It used to be my mother’s,”

It wasn’t like all the engagement rings Y/N’s seen that the rich and famous women are wearing nowadays. This one is modest, might even be boring and too normal compared to those. The ring has a bigger round diamond in the middle, with two smaller accompanying stones on its side. It’s a gold color ring too, not white gold like they usually are. It looks special and it looks like it has more sentimental value around it than monetary value. Maybe that’s also why she thinks it’s so precious.

“Dean, I can’t possibly wear this ring,” She says, but his hand already goes to her left one, grabbing it and holding it up to slip the ring on her finger.

He pauses to look at the ring, smiles as he sees how it fits. How did it fit anyway? How is that even possible?

“I was right with the measurement,” Dean chuckles and she thinks that he wants to turn away, but he’s still standing here holding her hand, “I want you to wear it whenever you’re with me, okay?”

She can not do anything else but nod.

“I proposed to you on this rooftop, overlooking the city,” He says and it takes her a while to realize that he’s talking about his proposal story that he’s suggesting.

“Right,” She bites her lips and looks down to the ring briefly before she looks up to meet his eyes again. They are glistening a little, and there’s a hint of a smirk on his face. Right here by the window, his freckles are prominent on his face.

Y/N’s distracted, feels the urge to count them.

“We were alone and we just had a meal. It was a warm summer night and we took our desserts on the terrace,”

She can picture it clearly and her heart starts to beat faster.

“I didn’t prepare a speech,” Dean clears his throat, and adds, “And the things I said weren’t particularly romantic,”

“It didn’t matter, because I know that you feel more comfortable showing your actions rather than using your words,” She chimes in, “There’s no romance needed, no sappy words, because you already show me enough how much you love me,”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes after she said it. Somehow she thinks it’s fondness, but then something changes and he avoids her eyes. Instead, he looks down to the hand that’s still holding hers. His cheeks are tinted pink. It’s totally cute how embarrassed he gets.

“So,” Dean swallows, “The contract says that we don’t touch each other more than necessary, especially not in private. But since my dad will be here, we will probably need to keep up the illusion, don’t you think?”

“Dean, the only one who seems to be uneasy and flinches at my touches is you,”

The pink in his cheeks rises up to his ears, “Yeah, I’ll try to change, okay?”

“I want you to feel comfortable. And please know that you touching me doesn’t bother me. I’m not disgusted or disturbed by it, okay?”

He nods, “I’m not—” He starts, but stops to exhale, and then he tries again, “I’m not disgusted by your touches, I just need to relax, I guess,”

“What would help you relax?” She asks and she means it. Maybe she can help.

“It would help if I knew that I didn’t pay you,” He chuckles drily, “Dad will be here soon so let’s get this over with,” He pulls her along to the door and her grip tightens around his hand.

She’s so fucking nervous.

“What if he hates me?” She whispers just before they reach the door and Dean turns around, places a hand where her shoulder meets her neck.

“My father wouldn’t like you even if it was real. He has high standards,”

“That’s fucking reassuring, thanks,”

Dean chuckles, “It doesn’t matter what he thinks, okay?” He rubs along her arm with his other hand, “Can you pretend to love me for a while, Y/N?”

“It depends,” She says with a shrug and his eyes widen. She smirks then to ease the situation because he obviously doesn’t get the joke. “Can you pretend that I’m the only thing that keeps you going? Pretend that I’m your first thought when you wake up and the last before you fall asleep, Dean? It’s more challenging for you with the array of women you’ve dated,”

He smiles crookedly, and there’s that glint in his eyes again, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not worried about my end of the bargain,”

Her face feels hot all of a sudden but she frowns after she catches herself, “Of course you’re not because you have nothing to lose,”

The frown on Dean’s face matches hers from before, “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah well, if I screw this up, I will lose my job and a steady income but you?” She pokes at his chest with her index finger, “You, Mister, will probably get a lecture from your dad, but you’ll be back to dating super rich women and beautiful models, and you can go on with your life as if nothing happened.”

Dean chuckles and he looks kind of amused? Which is not fair at all when she’s all worked up.

He pushes both his hands into his pants pockets, balances back and forth on his heels before he leans down to be on her level, brings down the air with him and she can smell his cologne. It’s intoxicating.

“Tell you what,” Dean smirks, “If this blows up because of me, if they should see through me or if anyone should question my feelings for you, I’ll buy you an apartment and I’ll help you secure a job. I have connections. Somewhere where no one knows that you were being engaged to me. But,” He darts his tongue out, licks over his lips and she bites down on her own because she knows exactly how they feel, “If you make a mistake and it blows up because of you, sweetheart,” He makes a pause and stands back straight.

“I have nothing you’d want,” She shakes her head.

“There’s something,” He shrugs and he says it so easily too. She can’t help but frown in confusion.

“What?”

“If it blows up because of you, Y/N. If you fail to convince the world how much you love me,” He grins, and the grin grows cocky, “You’ll marry me,”

Ch. 07

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#legally yours #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

ghost of a kiss.

muses. duke’s son!yoongi x marquis’ daughter!reader x crown prince!namjoon / professor!yoongi x student!reader x detective!namjoon

genre. historical au. reincarnation au. modern au.

words. 5.3k

note. nobody come at me for the header pls. or as bretman used to say, like fuck i’m tryin i’ve only been doin this for 2 hours 😭

There weren’t that many things Yoongi wouldn’t do if his father so wills it. Perhaps it was the Min blood coursing through his veins that made him so apathetic to human emotions.

You want to laugh.

You also want to cry, scream and throw the closest thing you have which is your fan at Yoongi’s ever emotionless expression. Just like a blank canvas painted with invisible ink, Yoongi never shows his feelings. Never spoke his mind.

Well, not around you at least.

It was as if you were just a pretty little doll for him to play with –no, he doesn’t even pay you any mind. He just sat there, sipping on the cherry blossom tea that the maid poured into his cup and gave one worded answers to the questions you asked after your endless chatter came to, well, an end.

After that, he put up with you a little bit longer when you insisted you’d wanted to escort him out of the garden and to the front of the mansion where his carriage awaited.

“Until we meet again, my lady,” he would bow but you would hold out your hand for him to place a ghost of a kiss on like lovers would.

It was always you who were asking for too much.

Always you who were a slave for his affection.

But instead of doing all of those things you dreamed of doing when you meet him again –and meet him, you do– you end up running past the grandeur doors of the ballroom, down the red carpet splayed hallway and into the gardens where red roses glimmer with dew drops underneath the moon rays.

What a heartbreakingly beautiful set up for a damsel with a broken heart.

“My lady,” it hasn’t even been five minutes when you hear that stone cold voice of Yoongi.

“Why couldn’t you just pretend you didn’t see me running like a scared, defenseless mouse after we met. After all, you’ve always been good at that –pretending like I don’t exist.” You wanted to laugh and laugh, you did. It sounds withered, unlike the full blooms of floral that surrounds you two.

“As your fiance, I have a duty to–”

“Duty.” You spit out the word like it’s poison, “was visiting me every fortnight for tea a duty of yours too?”

The corners of your eyes are red from roughly rubbing the traces of tears that threatens to fall on your cheeks and ruin your makeup.

You take a deep breath before turning to him, pushing down a silent sniffle.

“As you may have heard from your father, Duke Min, you’re relieved from that cumbersome duty,” you hold your chin high.

As you should.

Yoongi Min stares at you a moment longer than he usually would. Is it the hair? Your hair’s grown since he last saw you.

Or perhaps the bodice that wraps around you and enhances your curves and bosoms.

‘Perhaps’, you somberly admits, ‘he simply forgot how I looked after four years.’

“As you should have heard from the Marquis,” Yoongi presses, “I refuse to break the engagement.”

“Wha–” the word slips past your lips before you even register it.

“It can’t be undone, his Majesty already approves of the annulment,” you know you’re repeating words your father and brother uttered. Like a hopeful little mouse in the face of a black panther.

“Only with the Majesty’s approval can you request to break the engagement but it’s up to the Min’s if we wish to grant your request –I reject it.” Yoongi stands only a few feet away from you, his eyes appearing darker than black, shadowed by the moonlight.

When he steps forward and out of the shadow, you find yourself forgetting how to breathe. Like a beast in the night, he ambles his way to you elegantly and swiftly.

Before you know it, Yoongi is standing in front of you. And you, a captor beneath those haunting, onyx, splendor. His gloved fingers twirl a strand of your hair around them before he brings the golden locks to his lips.

“I loved you blindly, Sir Min,” you send your gratitude to the gods and goddesses for the stillness in your voice, “I longed for you like a sailor long to sail the seven seas but do you know what’s so wretched about this sort of longing? Only a lucky few manage to love without drowning.”

Your slender fingers curl around his wrist. Even then, you couldn’t close your fist around it –your hand is too small and delicate compared to his. And at times like these, you’re reminded of how woman you are and how man, he is.

“Release me,” the air feels cold against your now damp cheek but your heart is icier, “once and for all. At the very least, I’ll be able to marry a humble Count who’ll receive part of my inheritance once my father dies.”

The scoff that leaves the man’s lips sends shivers down your spine.

“A humble count,” his eyes gleam with mockery, as if he finds your words ironic, “did the Crown Prince of the Isira Dynasty not propose to you? Did you not come back for the sole purpose to tell me you’re abandoning me?”

You suspected the rumors of your getting closer to the Crown Prince, Namjoon, would spread over the continent.

“If you know, then let me go.” You say steely.

It’s the rawness in your tear-stained eyes that steals Yoongi’s breath away. The night breeze that blows past him almost sends him tumbling down like waves crashing against the shore.

“[Name],” he speaks your name for the first time in a long time, the syllables rolling off his tongue like sweet honey, “I’m not a man of many words. I don’t know how to–”

“You didn’t know how to kill either but you got better at it with practice!” Your throat feels as if it’s being grazed by sandpaper.

Your heart, on fire.

It’s the first time you’ve shown a different emotion than that heartwarming smile that looks like you’re meant for spring and blooming flowers. In that blissful moment, you look like one of the crimson roses that bear witness to you and Yoongi’s altercations.

“That’s right, I know what you do,” you nod, gaze burning with acid tears, “all those months spent waiting for you to come back from those expeditions. Monsters weren’t the only thing you slayed, were they?”

“No,” Yoongi breathes out and for some reason, his chest feels like it’s going to cave in and crush his heart.

The sensation is alien to him. Hell, he didn’t know he had a heart to begin with. It was just an organ that kept his blood pumping –he’d gladly tore it out and gave it to his dearest fiancée if she so much asked for it.

But now – now – she’s saying she wants no part of it.

The realization comes to him like poisonous smoke. Spreading around the hollowed part of his chest and seeps into that beating organ of his. Before he knows it, you’re already slipping out of his grasp.

“I’ll break off the engagement,” he finally says, his brain not registering the words that left his mouth, “for a kiss.”

But his heart knows what he wants.

You look at him like he’s crazy, eyes going round and glossed lips parting in a silent gasp. But when he makes no attempt to correct his words, realization gradually settles in.

“Make it quick.”

Long lashes flutter shut, lips pressed in a straight, unwilling line. The hand that clasps around his wrist falls to your side. Your shoulders are tense. You look like you’d rather be with those chimeras Jeongguk’s breeding than here.

Yoongi takes another step toward you.

Your eyebrows knit together when his gloved knuckles caress your cheekbone. The sharp inhale of breath you take as you brace herself doesn’t go past him. A rose, even in the face of the hands that threatens to pluck it, remains fierce and grounded.

The wait feels endless. As if time passes agonizingly slow yet the only indication that time hasn’t halted altogether is the way your heart keeps palpitating inside your chest as though it’s about to explode any second.

Then you feel them –a pair of softest, ghostly, lips on your forehead. As opposed to the hand kisses he left you, this one lingers with a sort of yearning. And even then, it feels short-lived.

As though you will never have enough of Yoongi Min.

“My lady, you look disappointed, if you wanted me to kiss you elsewhere, you should’ve said so.” There’s a mirth in his tone. And for a moment, you feel warm, like the warmth of the sun hugging you.

“What if I did?”

You want to ask but you decide against it. Thrusting your chin up like the noblest of women would, you remind him of the deal, “I’ll send someone to retrieve the annulment papers in a week’s time. I assume it will bear your signature, sir.”

With that, you walk past him, your laced hand brushing against his gloved one but even on the verge of goodbyes, Yoongi Min doesn’t let you walk out of it that easily. His pinky finger hooks around yours like a rusted, weak chain. Unsure whether to keep holding on or letting go.

Yet your feet stop dead in their tracks. Your heart races. Deep down, you know you want him to hold onto you like you held onto him for ten, pitiful years.

“Have a good evening, my lady,” is all he says, his hand falling away and he begins strutting to the opposite direction you’re heading even though there’s nothing in that direction besides a maze made of rose beds.

But you don’t plan to ponder too much on it. Namjoon, the Crown Prince, is waiting for you back in Isira where you’ll build a new home. A new life. And with a loving husband.

Or so you thought.

That was a lifetime ago. To say you opened your eyes to a twenty-one year old body in a world plagued by motor engine propelled and electronic devices –would be a lie.

This body is yours.

This life is yours.

You remember your first step, first successful ride on the bike after your father took off the supporting wheels, your first fall and the rest of your firsts, seconds, thirds and so on. And as such, you remember your first time meeting Min Yoongi.

At the age of twenty-one and him, twenty-six, his emotions are hard to pinpoint.

He isn’t much different in this lifetime.

His hair is a shade of rich brown that could easily pass as black if he’s not walking underneath the sunlight. He’s taller than the twenty-two year old boy you last saw before your carriage crashed into the ditch –that was the last thing you remembered from your last life.

No, you didn’t die. But the rest of your life past that point was blurry.

And here he comes, all in his dark colored vest over a white undershirt and black trousers. Professor Min Yoongi is nothing short of perfection.

“[Name], do you have a minute?” He approaches you like a panther; soundless and undetectable.

Before you know it, he’s five feet away from you and if you were to make a quick u-turn, it would be too obvious.

“I’m afraid not professor, I’m sorry, should I email you at a later time so we can discuss matters of my assistantship?” You put on your best smile and he lifts a dubious brow that screams that he sees right through your lie.

Yet he doesn’t press on.

Instead, he offers another alternative –though completely disregarding the last bit about the email, “right, then meet me after class.”

“I-I’m afraid I can’t do that either professor, I have to rush to Cyber, right after–!” You almost choke on your words.

“I’ll talk to Professor Park about that,” he says simply and taps you on your shoulder like any good-natured professor would with his top-performing student.

It just so happens that you’re extremely good at the class he teaches, which, ironically, is Neurocriminology.

“Professor Min?” You knock on the intimidating wooden door and hear a curt ‘come in’ from the other side before pushing the door open.

Behind his desk, Yoongi looks up at you through his long lashes and straight into the windows of your soul.

Even in your second life, his piercing stare affects you.

But you tell yourself that it’s because he’s just devilishly handsome and you’re humbly a woman.

That, and he and Professor Park Jimin are the youngest professors in the department.

“Those assignments over there need sorting.” Yoongi points to the pile of papers in a box perched on the coffee table as though waiting for you to arrive.

“Yes, professor,” you breathe through your mouth and swallow back the words of accusation that threaten to fall past your lips.

You did volunteer to be a student assistant but you never thought, in a million years, that the man who resembled your fiancé in the past… Well, on paper at least. You never thought he would pick you as his supervisee.

The room is silent save for the rustling sound of papers fluttering as you shift through each assignment and place them alphabetical orders of the name. Every once in a while, you can’t help but steal glances at the man seated behind the desk. With his hair slicked back and the cuffs of his wrist rolled up to his elbow, he looks like every girl’s modern day prince charming.

“Why are you so keen on running away from me?” His husked tone cuts through the silence.

“Pardon, professor?” You blink, not catching the meaning of his words until a moment later.

Your cheeks heat up under his piercing gaze, the recollection of the occasions you fast-walked to lose him in the hallways burning in the back of your mind.

“I-it seems I always have places to be… classes to attend, I’ll make sure to meet you every morning to confirm my tasks, professor,” you can’t just confess that he has a face and name of the man you once loved in your past life.

If you so much spoke of your remembering you’d be sent to the asylum.

A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his lips but it was gone as soon as it came. You’re not sure if you’re just seeing things.

“Very well, send me the location of your apartment so I can pick you up tomorrow,” he doesn’t look up from the screen of his Mac when he says that.

“P-professor?” You blink, disbelief coloring your complexion.

“You said you’d meet me every morning, yes? I always have my breakfast at 7:30 AM at The Curve, we can discuss matters of your tasks over breakfast.” He goes on like it’s just another day of him assigning you a task to complete.

The next morning, you sit with your back straight, staring at the pancakes Yoongi ordered for you. The sweater he wears over his vest makes him seem more relaxed than his usual vest and tie look. His long lashes almost brush the top of his cheek as he casts his gaze down at the leaf shaped latte he’s drinking.

“Professor, I double checked with the administration office and they gave me a list of things I have to do to complete my assistantship. From the tasks you’d given me, I checked off at least three of the requirements,” you take out an azure blue notebook where you flip to a page that has a piece of paper and slides it across the table.

“You came prepared,” he muses, an amused smile playing on his lips and your little heart does its little flips.

“I take it you’re writing a paper on neuroscience and human behavior –if there’s anything, I can help you with, please let me know,” you return his smile with a schooled one –the kind that you use when you’re dealing with strangers.

“Sure,” the professor nods, “I could use some help researching neurodivergence.”

The conversation flows smoothly. The worries you harbored for the whole of your university life now dissipated. You were at your most comfortable when it comes to academia. Your passion lies in your interest in criminology and the one man who you could engage in an intellectual conversation is none other than the man whom you tried so hard to avoid.

At some point, you think your worries, silly. Just because they share the same face and name, doesn’t mean they share the same memory. For all you knew, you could be the one in a million who remembers your past life.

That is, until Yoongi asks, “were you happy?”

He uses the word ‘were’ to refer to the past. It takes you a moment to register that he didn’t mean your childhood nor adolescent years.

And when you finally put two and two together, you can almost hear your heart drop. You thought you’d be sweating bullets and heaving for air from the tangible pressure this conversation brings.

But before you could say anything, Yoongi speaks again, “I won’t push for an answer, I know where that led me before.”

He casts his gaze down, long, nimble fingers picking up the cup of latte and making the regular sized cup seem miniature in his hand.

It’s a few days later, as you accompany him to another university to meet with a fellow specialist, that you finally say, “you never pushed me.”

Stirring the cup of black coffee, sitting at one of the round, two-persons tables in the cafe of the Sociology Department, you go on, “in fact, you never asked for anything at all. I was always the one asking for too much, giving just as much.”

‘I loved you too intensely and I burned too bright.’ These are the words you never dare say.

Loved.

Because you don’t love Min Yoongi anymore.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re unusually calm.

“I can’t remember everything –only bits and pieces. That night,” you swallow –you don’t need to steal a glance at him to know he’s thinking of the same night; the night you said your goodbyes, “after the carriage crashed, I remembered seeing shadows clash against one another. Namjoon’s men went against the assassins who came for me because I was the rumored Crown Prince’s soon-to-be fiancée. I had to go into hiding after he was demoted to a mere prince because of his brothers’ schemes… at some point, I remember starving because we had nothing to eat.”

A new identity was all Namjoon could offer for his beloved. He spoke of claiming back the throne that was rightfully his yet his supporters scattered all over the continents after the siege. Their spirit waned overtime. He came for you after the shadows saved you but you both lived in poverty until one shriveled up like a dead flower and the other went mad for the crown that was once his.

The way his fists clench with remorseful anger doesn’t go past you, it’s almost as though you can hear him blaming himself for your choices.

You smile wistfully, “but yes, I remember being happy,” the smile tugs into a straight line as you face him with conviction, “would I give everything up for that sliver of happiness again? No,” you shake your head, “now I just want money.”

Yoongi laughs. Like truly laughs out loud with his shoulderline shaking and hand on his stomach. The sound lacks the menace that you remembered him to wear around him like a cloak.

All of a sudden, the air seems to change. The tension you once felt, now dissipated into thin air. A familiar warmth creeps up your neck but you mask it with indifference.

You can’t afford to fall for him all over again.

Not when you’ve had a lifetime to mull over and decide these feelings would die with you –get buried with you.

“What happened after your sister ruined the dukedom?” It’s when you both got to this point of the conversation that you felt your heart writhe inside your chest.

As if physically hurting for the fate that befell Yoongi –at this point, it was just an assumption, but you were sure that–

“Aera tracked us one by one until she killed every single Min,” he says simply, as if talking about a cherished sister who up and left home with the family’s savings a few hundred years ago, “she was the best of us. She knew people like us couldn’t be left alone to live a quiet life.”

In the lulled silence, you notice the festering remorse that dances in his eyes.

He clasps his palm over his mouth as he stares out of the window, “of course, things are different now. We’re not allowed to kill.”

At that, you almost spat out the coffee you’re downing. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“It was illegal to kill then, you and your family did it anyway because you were just so– so… messed up!” You explode partly, voice lowered as you lean over the table, cautious of anyone nearby who might hear you.

“Aren’t you glad neurocriminology gives justification to murderers, well, murdering nowadays?” He smirks, one corner of his lip tugging upwards.

You find yourself breathing in sharply as your heart skips a beat at the sight of Min Yoongi’s dark humor.

The Yoongi in your past life would never be able to even understand a joke –you were sure.

But now it’s you who doesn’t appreciate the humor.

“Is that why you became a professor?” It’s apparent in the way your brows knit together.

“Rather, paired with my previous… knowledge, it’s an easier way to get a PhD and a stable earning,” the shrug makes him appear boyish –younger than he is.

For some reason, he was several years older than you in this lifetime compared to the last.

“Apparently mine deems that I marry rich,” you remark playfully.

“Then, shall we get married? I missed my chance in my previous lifetime and I’m kind of well off in this lifetime,” it’s the easy suggestion of marriage that makes you almost choke on the pancake you just directed into your mouth.

“Professor, there’s just something you don’t joke about,” you say after gaining a semblance of your composure yet your heartbeat drums in your ears and your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire.

Why are you so happy to hear that Min Yoongi, your former fiancé and beloved, entertained the idea of marriage with you even in this lifetime?

“Your sisters... do they remember?” Yoongi asks one fine evening as you’re surfing the internet to research the needed materials he tasked you with.

“How did you know I have sisters?” You blink, surprised.

Yoongi had to mask the involuntary smile that tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees how lovely and adorable of a face you’re making.

“You mentioned them before,” he states, “even if you didn’t, I’d suspect as much since I was born with the same siblings from the previous lifetime –for now, it’s me, Aera and Hoseok, who knows where my dad hid the rest of his children and mistresses.”

“They don’t remember, I tried asking when I first started remembering –was it at the age of eight? They looked at me like a devil just possessed their little sister,” you sigh softly, “it’s better this way. Life isn’t all that easy for them either in the past.”

The cherry blossom tree standing tall and proud one the edge of the field is positioned so that anyone who stood in front of his window would get a full view of raining, pink petals.

“Why do you think we remember?” You ask, staring at the petal that fluttered into the room and found itself atop Yoongi’s deep brown lock.

“I’d say fate’s giving us a second chance but you’d laugh at me,” he plainly says, flipping a page of the journal he’s reading.

And laugh at him, you do, “professor, I didn’t take you for a hopeless romantic!”

“We both changed, you and I,” you told him over dinner at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

The piano playing in the background and the dim lighting gives off an atmosphere of a romantic evening. The waiter even thought you were a couple and offered a couple’s discount.

Yoongi being Yoongi, accepted it right away and called you his ‘darling’. Your cheeks burn up for a good fifteen minutes until the wine comes and you finish the whole glass in a few gulps.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he agrees wholeheartedly without even looking up from the menu, “for one, I’m not some apathetic maniac who goes around wielding spears.”

“No, you’re my professor and I’m your student, we should never be caught dead having dinner together,” you shoot him a rebellious grin to which he nods.

“Touche,” he acknowledges.

A week later, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a blonde haired, hazel eyed man approaching you and Yoongi. You’d stepped behind Yoongi’s broad shoulders, the man almost didn’t notice you at all.

He’s supposed to give a talk on neurocriminology –a guest of Yoongi’s.

“Are you okay?” He asks after you’re back in his office, he pulls you away from the spotlight when he notices your forced mechanical smile and fingers tugging at your sleeves.

“I know, right? Why did I get so weird like that?” You laugh to yourself, as though engulfed in your own world.

It doesn’t take a genius to – or perhaps, Min Yoongi was that, so that’s why he successfully – put two and two together and figured out that his esteemed guest is the reincarnation of Namjoon.

The blond didn’t seem to recognize you though.

But that didn’t stop him from taking an interest in you.

“[Name]... that student of yours, is she single?” Namjoon asked when they were out for dinner with the other professors but before Yoongi could even respond, the blond was already laughing it off, “nevermind, forget what I said. You wouldn’t happen to know anyway.”

“Don’t go around flirting with my students, they need to focus on getting a degree first before anything else,” Yoongi jokingly warned.

Something in his stomach twists and turns, as if a snake was slithering around his intestines, spreading its venom all over him.

But that did nothing to stop you and Namjoon from exchanging numbers and going out to brunches and dinners like he did with you. You keep on tugging on her sleeve and pushing your hair to the back of her ear when you spoke to Namjoon at the next talk he was invited to.

Much to Yoongi’s surprise, despite your obvious discomfort, you’re the one who suggested inviting Namjoonfor the new semester and handled all the matters pertaining to the talk.

“I don’t want to push you because if I do, you’d drift farther away from me and if I pull, you’ll recoil and take ten steps back –there’s no right way,” Min Yoongi has you trapped between the door and his body one afternoon. Particularly, after he saw the name Joonie flash across your screen as your phone vibrates.

You excused yourself to answer the call but just as your hand touched the door handle, his hand rested on top of yours, stopping you from walking out of his office.

“Wh-what are you saying, professor?” You stammer, the now still phone held in front of your chest.

He thinks he sees the tip of your ear turn red but it could be because of the fading winter air.

It was always uncomfortable to watch you and Namjoon interact but Yoongi attributed it to the fact that one remembered the times they spent together in their past life and the other having absolutely no idea yet still falling for your charms either way.

He twirls a strand of your hair around his index finger before he kisses it, “he may have your heart but I’ve loved you first –I’ve always loved you first.”

“P-professor-!” You exclaim, heels turning and so does your body.

No doubt, your sole purpose of turning around to face him is to caution him of his bold declaration –you were like an open book that Yoongi could just pick up and flip the pages to. You’d always been readable, even back then. Perhaps, that was why it felt like a hand clawed through his chest and wraps its talons around his heart each time you put up walls and turn away his subtle advances.

Because he knows winter has long settled in the hollowed part of your chest.

But because of how he was leaning down to kiss your hair, you end up face to face with only inches apart. There’s no mistaking the blush that spreads across your face, washing away the initial surprise of finding yourself so close to him.

“Call me Yoongi,” he implores with that deep, husky voice of his.

It’s the way he looks at you. Like he’s frightened beyond belief that you’d do exactly what he thought you would; take ten steps back –that makes your heart thump unceremoniously in your chest.

“Y-yoongi… we shouldn’t…” you murmur weakly, eyes tracing his soft lips before snapping up to meet his gaze.

“May I kiss you?” He knows he should let you go to answer the call –what you do and who you see in this lifetime is none of his business.

And yet, he can’t bear the thought of you walking away from him in this lifetime. Not when there’s the second chance he made a pact with the devil for.

Fate and the devil, what difference are there if they meant to serve one purpose?

You nod.

And all of a sudden, he’s back where it all ended. In that garden where roses bore witness to their tragic love affair.

He leans in and presses his lips on your forehead ever so gently –it feels as though if he puts any more pressure, you’d break like you’re made of glass.

“Kiss me for real –if you kiss me on the forehead, it feels like you’re saying goodbye,” your eyes flutter open and your brows join together in protest, he feels you tug on his shirt impatiently.

The softest of smiles graces Yoongi’s lips and you think your heart is going to explode into millions of pieces. Is it not enough that he’s the reason you almost forgot to breathe?

“Wasn’t it you who was itching to run away from me?” He teases, pinching your cheek and just like his hand kisses –you still feel them ghost over the back of your hand every once in a while– his touches are feather light.

“Only because you were an emotionally constipated idiot.” You argue back, lips puckered in protest.

“Then, if I may… my lady…” he trails off, index finger curled under her chin, tilting you face up.

“You may,” you giggle against his lips, arms tracing up the planes of his abs to his chest and find home around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

(“I was only putting up with Namjoon because he’s the head of the criminology department in Incheon –I was thinking of applying for a job there after graduating.” You confess some time later once you’re at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.

“Huh,” Dion blinks, not expecting that.

“Did you think I was going to date him in this lifetime?” You giggle as if you already know the answer, “true, he’s still as handsome as ever, but we did go broke and… I never truly loved him.”

You cast her gaze down, cheeks burning with warmth, shyness overcoming you all of a sudden. If he could, Yoongi would gather her in his arms and embrace her like he’ll never let go.

But he settles with a reach of his hand on top of yours on the table, thumb caressing the spot just below the knuckle of your fourth finger.

“In this lifetime… definitely.”)

note. this was shared on a discord server and posted on wattpad under a different pseudonym!

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