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sinner-as-saint · 21 days ago

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mastermind

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Ex-bully!Reader AU

Summary: You were mean to him back in uni, always teasing him and making fun of him. Always chasing away the few friends he had and always ruining the chances he had of making new ones. He could never figure out why he was always the butt of your jokes, why out of all the other people you could unleash your cruelty on, you picked him. But those uni years were long gone. His desire to get back at you however, was not. So now, about a whole decade later, Bucky Barnes is out for revenge. You made his life hell for years after all. But now that he’s older and stronger than he was back then, he deserves to have a little fun with you, doesn’t he?

Themes: author!reader, ex bully!reader, mentions of bullying in the past, mild angst, smut, stalker!bucky, dark!bucky, degrading kink, fluff

Bucky stepped into the hole in the wall bar with confidence.

He knew what he was here for. Or rather, who.

And he spotted you right away. He’d been preparing for this meeting for the last decade, and he had all his ducks in a row now. He grabbed a beer and walked right over to where you were sitting, in a booth by yourself. A half pint of something on the table, with papers scattered everywhere while you were busy noting something down rapidly in a notebook.

You looked good, he admitted to himself. Dark burgundy dress with a leather jacket, as if you wanted to blend into the dark and moody aesthetic of the bar and disappear. But you were one of those people who just couldn’t exactly blend in and disappear. Even when you didn’t say a word, your presence was rather loud. Sure, you’d been one of the most horrible people he’d come across in uni years ago, but you were charismatic and he couldn’t deny it.

You had this certain pull to you, attracting everyone and everything towards you. And here he was, gravitating towards you as well. But, he reminded himself, he had a plan this time.

“Excuse me,” He spoke in his smoothest voice, “Is this seat taken?”

He watched you intently as you looked up from your notebook and seemed a little surprised as you gave him a slight smile and pointed at the seat across from you. You didn’t recognise him. Of course you wouldn’t, he looked entirely different.

Bucky was used to it. That surprise on women’s faces. He looked good and he knew it. Tight black t-shirt, purposely two sizes too small just so he could show off the big arms and the back muscles that the people loved. Tattoos all over his arms, and some on his neck. He had them all over his back as well, but it was currently hidden. Small, discrete lip ring on his lower lip. Yeah, he made the ladies go crazy.

He could tell you were having trouble looking away as well. “Aren’t you too beautiful to be here all by yourself?” He gave you a smirk, one that he knew accentuated his lip ring. He watched your gaze drop down to it quickly before looking back up into his eyes.

You smiled, then explained. “I don’t know anyone in this city, I’m here temporarily for work. I leave in a couple of days.”

Bucky listened with fake interest, he knew all these things already. He knew everything about you. “Oh?” He faked curiosity, “What do you do for work?”

“I’m an author. I’m currently on my book tour.” You answered in a shy voice.

Weird. You used to be so confident and cocky all the time in uni. This was new. Bucky quickly recovered and said, “Wait, was that you I saw on the poster outside the bookstore down the street? There was quite a crowd there.”

You nodded sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s me. I have another book signing there tomorrow.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “You must be really good.”

Again, you gave him that shy shrug that confused him. Since when were you humble, or shy?

“I’m okay, I guess. People just like to read what I write.” A pause, as you stared into his eyes, then asked, “What do you do in the city? You know, other than flirting with random women.”

Bucky chuckled, “Oh you’re not random. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve met.” He waited to see you squirm in your seat like he knew you would. He watched how you rolled your eyes at him and shook your head. Then he said, “I own a security company. I created this app that people use whenever they need help. All they have to do is press a button and my guys show up. Anywhere, anytime. Anything from needing medical help to needing help escaping someone, domestic violence, robbers, a hostage situation, harassment, or you know,” He looked right at you as he said, “Bullies.”

You listened, nodded and said, “That’s noble. What pushed you to make that your life’s mission?”

Bucky leaned back into his seat. “I know what it’s like to feel defenseless. I never want anyone to feel like that. So if I can at least help some people, it makes me feel better. I guess I became what younger me needed.”

“Why?” You questioned. “Were you hurt in the past?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged. “But that was a long time ago.”

Bucky began talking about something else but then noticed you were watching him a little too intensely. For a brief moment he panicked, wondering if you’d recognised him. But surely not. He didn’t look anything like he did back then.

So he had to ask, still in the same flirty tone he’d been using the whole time, “What’s that look for?”

He watched as you blinked a couple times, lowered your face as if shy then shook your head and said, “Nothing. It’s…,” You chuckled, “It’s gonna sound insane but you just… look so much like one of my main characters from my last book.” You then grabbed your phone and clicked a couple times before showing him a fanart. “See? Even the lip ring, and the neck tats.”

Bucky grabbed your phone, analysing the fanart with interest. “And this guy, you like him? Is he a good guy?”

You sighed, “He’s complicated. But yes, I love him. He’s one of my favourite characters that I’ve ever written.” A coy smile, then you said, “I just never thought I’d meet someone exactly like him. I mean, it’s like you walked out of my book.” You laughed.

Bucky laughed too. “Well, maybe I did.”

“Maybe.” You whispered, still looking up at Bucky dreamily. Giving him that soft look women often gave him before they invited him into their beds.

Perfect.

Oh. He had you right where he wanted you. It’s like you walked out of my book. He scoffed internally. For the last few years he’d been studying all your books like they were religious texts and he was a zealous man. Over the years he noticed that all your MMCs had a few features in common – tattoos, muscles, piercings, so he became them.

Sure, maybe this was him taking it too far. After all, uni ended about a decade ago. Sure, this was petty and maybe even a waste of time. But he needed to do this for the younger him who was always so passive and never in control of the narrative. Being bullied and never having friends or anyone on his side is what made him create his app and company. Sure, this was childish revenge but it was his to take. He didn’t care.

Besides, the look on your face would be priceless once he reveals who he is. But not yet. He had so much to do before that. So many fantasies to fulfil. So much fun to have before he told you the whole truth.

“It’s getting late,” You told him as you began gathering your papers and notebook, “I should head back to my hotel. I have that book signing thing rather early. But, um, if you want I could leave you my number and we can meet again tomorrow?”

Bucky smiled at you, his tongue toying with his lip ring knowing full well it would catch your attention. “Yes, please.”

He already had your number. Screw your number, he had all your home addresses – both the penthouse, as well as the small beach house that you owned, your email addresses, your passwords, where you liked to eat, where your friends lived, where they worked, what your parents did, where they worked, all of it. He’d been keeping a close eye on you for the past decade, of course he knew everything there was to know about you.

So he took the number, and walked you out of the bar and promised to meet up with you the next day.

—

“Have dinner with me,” Bucky said when he saw you the following evening. “I know a cute spot, it’s lowkey and quiet. You’re gonna like it.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “Alright.” Then you took his elbow and let him take the lead.

He walked slowly, using the short journey as an excuse to ask you things. General stuff, things people ask on first dates. Where you grew up, what is your family like, etc. But it was hard coming up with questions when he already knew everything. Plus, he had to be careful not to ask specific things, like how did you find Bari, Italy where you vacationed with your family last year?

Luckily the place where you were headed wasn’t too far.

“So tell me, what is it like going from city to city and meeting all your fans?” Bucky asked you once the two of you had placed your orders.

You smiled, as if at a memory, and said, “It’s amazing. I can’t quite put it into words. I mean, I started writing as a way to cope with just, I don’t know, life I guess. And I never thought people would end up reading, let alone even like what I write. And it kinda just happened, and next thing I knew I was receiving messages and emails and letters from all over the world. I guess, you never get tired of someone telling you just how much they like the stories you made up in your head.” You sighed again, happily this time. “It’s cliché, I know, but it’s so pure and genuine. Like these characters don’t exist in real life, I made them up. But people found them interesting enough to read about them, and like them.” You giggled.

Bucky felt like someone had slapped him the moment he heard that giggle. What the hell was happening to him? Did he, dare he say, find you endearing? What the fuck.

You continued, unbeknownst to the internal turmoil Bucky was going through. “So yeah, the fans are literally the reason why I do what I do. They give me so much strength and they don’t even know it. Sometimes just reading or re-reading a sweet message someone left me months ago can turn a bad day into a really good one, or make a terrible day slightly more tolerable.” You paused, gazing into Bucky’s eyes. “Writing saved me, but my fans, my readers, they made my life so much more beautiful and worth living.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting that. At all. He knew you didn’t have ghost writers or anything. He knew you’d been consistent with your book releases. But he never knew you had such… depth. He always only ever saw you as the bitchy girl who bullied him in uni and made his life hell. For the first time in years, Bucky wavered a little bit when it came to you. For the first time in years, he wondered whether this was worth it.

“I see,” He spoke quietly, “So no downsides to being a well-loved author?”

You chuckled, “Some. Like most things. I mean, this doesn’t happen a lot but a couple of times I’ve had people show up to my hotel room or my house even, demanding to know what happens in the next book. It’s scary, but, I mean I’ve dealt with it and I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

Perfect. Bucky smiled, then said, “You know, you should hire security. At least when you’re touring. I can arrange it, I’ll send you some of my best guys. They’ll be discrete, and you won’t have to worry about anything.”

He was pleased with how easily you agreed. Now he could have eyes on you all the time without all the secrecy.

And the rest of the dinner went by smoothly.

He thought he’d have to put in a lot more work. But when he dropped you off at your hotel lobby, and you asked him if he wanted to come up for a drink, he was pleasantly surprised. But of course he agreed and followed you to your room.

You offered him a glass of red wine, he accepted.

You made small talk, your eyes never leaving his. Bucky put on a show. Touching your hands, your face, but just enough to leave you wanting more. He watched how you lowered your head each time he gave you a compliment. But none of the compliments were lies, even despite all the hatred he felt towards you he had to admit, you were very beautiful.

He also noted the way you kept scooting closer and closer to him on the couch. Out of nowhere, Bucky said, “You know, I googled you last night. And I came across some rather… naughty stuff that you’ve written.”

You laughed and said, “In my world, we call those spicy scenes.”

Bucky nodded, “I see. And are any of those based on real life?”

There was that shy look on your face again. “Some are.”

There was this unexplainable wave of discontent that washed over him upon hearing that. He didn’t know why but the thought of you having sex with someone else and it being good enough for you to write about it almost made him want to get up and leave. He hated it.

“So if I fuck you, will you write about it?” He asked, so serious all of a sudden.

You didn’t look away from his eyes as you replied, “Only if you’re memorable enough.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head and reached for you, “Come here then,” He guided you over his lap so you could straddle him. He leaned in and whispered, “I’ll show you memorable enough.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling all the hard muscles underneath his thin t-shirt while his hands slid up and down your sides as his lips kissed all over your neck. He hummed and breathed and chuckled right into your ear as he explored your body. Then, getting impatient he asked, “Can I please take your dress off?”

Within the next few seconds, you were completely bare in his lap.

“So beautiful,” He murmured, looking at you with those gorgeous eyes that he knew could make people melt so easily. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He whispered along your collar bones, kissing and licking your skin. You inched closer to him, rubbing your crotch against his clothed but erected cock, making the both of you gasp and moan. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He teased, tightening his grip on your waist just a little and pulling you closer to him, nuzzling your neck again.

You slid your fingers into his hair and whispered into his ear, “Yes, please.”

He hid the fact that your voice made him shiver. He shook it off as quickly as he could. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.

Bucky recovered, and smirked against your skin the moment he heard you gasping and whining under his touch. “What do you want, huh?” He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, grounding you on his clothed cock in the process, “My fingers?” He reached up to grab the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he could kiss and whisper against your skin, “My mouth? Or my cock?”

You whined, then said, “Your cock, please.” You begged him. And fuck, it was satisfying to hear. Just what he wanted.

He chuckled, letting his hand rest at your butt, bringing your body closer to his. How long had he waited to have you at his mercy like this? He was gonna have all the fun he’d dreamt of having. “Well then you have to work for it.” He said, teasing you. “Now come on, take it out and slide it in you.”

Bucky leaned back and watched each one of your moves. The desperation in your eyes as you stared up at him, how your eager hands rapidly undid his pants to free his throbbing cock. How you handled him like he was nothing but just a hot fling.

Oh baby, Bucky scoffed mentally, you have no idea who I am, do you?

He caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him, like the rest of him, his cock was nice and thick too.

He watched as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his veiny cock, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. “I said put it inside you, baby.” He bit his lower lip to keep from moaning too much.

Bucky watched you as you lifted your body off of his lap and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole and then slowly, slowly sank down on him. You both moaned, watching his cock disappear inside of you.

“Fuck…” You moaned, looking at him with that damned innocent look in your eyes.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “Come here,” He growled once he was nice and deep inside your warm, wet hole. Grabbing you by the throat, Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you hungrily. Growling into your mouth about how good it felt to be inside you, “You did such a good job. Look how pretty you look, filled with my cock, huh? Do you realise how pretty you look, baby?”

You whined against his mouth, begging, immediately grinding your hips against his, desperate for some friction. For any kind of movement. Just needy.

“Please…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” He whispered against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. “I’ve got you. I’ll make it feel good, okay?” His hands grabbed you by the hips as he carefully helped you lift your lower body up and then slowly, lowering you down his cock again. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, looking down to see where your bodies connected and the sight of it, of his cock stretching you out was just sinful.

“You feel perfect, you know that?” Bucky grabbed and held your hips in place, gently thrusting his hips up, making you moan as he filled you up, “Just a perfect girl for me, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought, huh?”

It was a good thing you were too lust-drunk to fully process his ramblings.

Bucky leaned in to kiss your open mouth again, moving your body gently, rocking you back and forth on his cock to get you to get used to the girth of him. His cock throbbed against your walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you insane and turned you into a teary, mumbling mess. “Aww baby, what is it? Is it too much? Hmm?” He teased, placing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it slowly while still moving your hips back and forth. “Is that too much?”

You looked into his eyes with your teary ones and said, “You… feel so good.” You whined.

Bucky smirked. Right where he wanted you. He let go of your hips, no longer helping you to move. “Go on then, take what you want. And make it good for me.”

Sheepishly, you lifted your lower body slightly, before sliding back down on his cock. Now that he wasn’t helping you, it was way harder than earlier. You struggled to make him fit for a moment. But only for a moment.

You whimpered and he groaned once he fit snug inside of you again. The tip of his cock reaching sensitive places you never knew existed.

“That’s good, baby.” Bucky murmured, caressing your thigh. “But open your eyes. I want you to look at me while you take my cock so perfectly like my good girl. You hear me?”

You looked right at him, nodding as you began riding his cock as best as you could before you finally found the right pace and rhythm. You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock each time, whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust.

“That’s it. Take it, take all of me in that tight, perfect little cunt…” He leaned in to kiss you, biting down and tugging at your bottom lip while you sped up, his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up.

His hand circled around your waist, his muscular arms caging you in and he pulled your warm body closer to his. You were nothing but a moaning mess at this point.

You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out. Bucky now held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and growling in pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good…” He tried to contain his grunts, “Oh fuck, you’ll get me addicted to this cunt, huh? And I’ll want it every day now. But you’ll give it to me, won’t you? You’ll let me fuck it, or taste it, or both, won’t you, angel?”

“Yes,” You whined, nodding helplessly. “Whatever you want.”

He chuckled, kissing down your neck and whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him. He panted against your skin, kissing you all over, “This cunt is mine now, you hear me? All fucking mine. All of it.”

“Yes…”

You didn’t slow down when you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Bucky kept thrusting his hips up into you even as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone, all that pressure exploding in a satisfying way.

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to his.

—

“I wish I could stay in the city a little longer.” You mumbled against his chest.

Bucky smirked, his fingers mindlessly tracing random shapes on your skin. “Where are you going after this?”

You told him which city you were off to the next day for more book signings and readings. And Bucky pretended to be surprised, as if he didn’t know already, “I’m headed there too. One of our offices there needs me for something.” Lies. “I’ll leave in a day or two.”

You sat up at the sound of that, looking down at Bucky with a mischievous look in your eyes. Bucky smirked because he could already see your thought process.

“Could we, um, see each other again?” You asked, still a little shy.

Bucky reached out to touch your face, playing the part of the enamoured stranger too well. “Of course we can, angel. I’ll come find you, don’t you worry.”

—

It was almost too easy to find you again. His guards who were watching over you let him know of all your moves, where you were, which hotel you stayed at, where your event was held, what time, etc.

So finding you at your book signing event, and surprising you by sneaking around and pulling you into a nearby utility closet was not a problem at all.

You gasped, in surprise, then let out a chuckle once you realized it was just him. “Bucky!”

Bucky pulled you close and gave you a gentle kiss. “I’ve missed you, angel.”

You relaxed in his arms, “But I saw you just two nights ago.”

“I know,” He leaned in to kiss your neck. “Still missed you,” He whispered.

You let out a soft moan when he licked and bit your skin. “Bucky…” You groaned, then giggled when his rough stubble tickled your neck. And that cold metal of his lip ring making you shiver. “I have to be out and take pictures in a while.”

He pulled away immediately. “Sorry, I thought–,”

“No,” You cut him off, again with that shy but mischievous look in your eyes. Then you leaned in and whispered against his mouth, “I didn’t say we had to stop.” You pressed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth, right on his lip ring.

Then you kissed his neck, then slowly got down on your knees. Your hands trailing down his body until you reached his belt buckle.

Okay. This was not in the plan. Bucky thought in his head.

“Can I?” You asked, looking up at him with those eyes of yours.

Fuck. Fuck! How long had he waited for this? Years. Even in uni, even when he hated you, he was just a young man and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees for him. Fuck. Focus, Bucky, focus!

“Go ahead, baby.” He whispered. “It’s all yours to play with.”

Those words made you hurry. You rapidly undid his belt, unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock. The mere sight of it had you whimpering with need. You wrapped your hands around him and placed your mouth on his tip, your tongue slowly circling his tip before you slowly took more of him, as much as you could fit, into your mouth.

You looked up and found him looking down at you intensely, blinking slowly, eyes heavy with lust, and breathing heavily. Fuck, he was a sight, you thought. The lip ring on that swollen, soft, pink lower lip. Those tattoos peeking from under the collar of his shirt, the tattoos along his muscular forearms…

You kept your eyes on his gorgeous face as you sucked on his cock. He had the kind of manly beauty that made you want to worship him with your mouth. Usually, you’d never get down on your knees this quickly for any man. But Bucky… he was special, wasn’t he?

Bucky closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. “Fuck…” he moaned and you only quickened your pace. He moved his hips forward, gently fucking your mouth. He looked back down and smirked, you looked magnificent on your knees, taking him perfectly.

“Is this what you’ve been dreaming of doing for the past two days, huh?” He teased. “While you’re out there innocently reading your books, and signing autographs for your fans, and smiling for pictures, is this what was in the back of your mind, angel?”

You nodded, your mouth still full of him.

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, not so innocent, are you?” He carefully quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, eager to chase his orgasm. “You’re lucky you have to go back out there and look presentable, otherwise I’d make a mess all over your face, baby.” He said, then hissed when you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. “Oh, you little tease.” He smirked. “No more teasing, baby, come on. Put it back in your mouth.” He ordered.

And you listened. You took him back into your mouth and sucked on his cock until he came undone all over your tongue. Bucky came with a loud sigh, closing his eyes and relishing the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him. You swallowed all of him, licked him clean and zipped his pants back up and did his belt again before standing up to face him again.

He smiled at you. “I’m gonna return the favour later, okay?”

You nodded while he wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumbs, and fixed your hair as best as he could. Bucky loved the dreamy look in your eyes.

You slid him your hotel room key and said, “See you later, Bucky.” Then you left the closet with a wink.

Bucky stayed there for a minute. Alone and thinking. This was easier than he thought. He kinda hoped you’d play hard to get a little more, but this was great too.

—

Bucky did show up to your hotel room that night. He had a favour to return after all. But then, after that night, things went a little off his initial plan.

Bucky ended up following you around the world for the next month or so, going from city to city. Fucking in hotel rooms, or anywhere he could get you alone. He ended up infiltrating each one of your events, sometimes he’d show up just so he could then take you out for dinner after a long day, then he’d end up sleeping in your bed each night.

He knew he was deviating from his plan. But what could he do? He was having fun, and so were you. Neither one of you was putting a label on this thing anyway. Plus, he had waited for this for so long. So he let it happen for some more weeks, shamelessly enjoying anytime he got to have you under him, or be under you, or touching you, or kissing you. All for the sake of younger him, of course.

Bucky let it go like this until you were nearing the last leg of your tour. And you had about a week off before the last few remaining events.

It was time, he realised. To mess with you a little more.

So he made you an offer he knew you wouldn’t refuse.

The two of you were in your penthouse, back in your city. And Bucky had travelled with you. The two of you could barely keep your hands off each other. So here you were now, early morning, cuddling in bed.

“How would you like a weekend getaway, baby? At a nice cabin, small town, endless woods,” He proposed, pulling you closer under the covers since you were both refusing to get out of bed that morning. “Just you, and me, and a hot tub.” He whispered, kissing your face while you writhed in his arms, giggling and trying to get away because you were really ticklish. “And lots of sex.”

You laughed, finally out of his embrace, and got up to straddle him, pinning his arms in place as you looked down at him. Both of you completely naked, but who cared? “I wake up sore everyday because of you.”

Bucky smirked, freeing his hands from your grip easily. “Weird, ‘cause you never complain when we’re doing it.” He spoke, his hands mindlessly caressing your bare thighs. “In fact, you always ask for more.”

“Right.” You smacked his chest playfully. “And now you want to lock me inside a cabin with you? We won’t ever leave the bed. I still have work to do, you know? I should’ve started working on my next book weeks ago.” You said, “But a certain tattooed, blue-eyed hottie is ruining my plans.”

He laughed at the irony of what you said. “Oh come on, angel,” He pleaded. “I just want one weekend alone with you. Just one. Where we don’t have to meet or interact with other people. It’ll be just us.”

You smiled and nodded, “Fine. I should start packing.”

—

The cabin was everything. Much larger than you expected. Bucky told you that this was one of his favourite properties that he owned, at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by dense, foggy woods, the rich veridian pine trees, the dark mountains, and rain clouds.

It was the perfect setting to get some writing done as well, you thought.

“Oh! This is perfect, Buck!” You said the moment you stepped inside the log home. The setting sun really added to the charm of the place. You spun in slow circles, taking it all in. The high ceiling, the grand staircase, the nice kitchen, the neat living area with the comfiest chairs by the large windows, and the giant fireplace.

You immediately walked over to the biggest chair with the softest cushions and plopped down on it with a happy sigh. “I never wanna leave.” You squealed, giggling as you squirmed and buried deeper into the cushions. “Can I just stay here forever? Look at this place, Buck!”

Bucky was frozen in place. Watching you. Unable to take his eyes off you. The happy smiles, the way you made sure to point out all the things you liked and compliment them. The way you immediately made yourself at home. The way you chose the most comfortable spot and decided that was your spot, like a house cat by a sunny window.

What the hell was he feeling?! And why did he feel kinda bad for having led you on this whole time? Was he doing the wrong thing? Messing with you was the plan, but then what? What after that? Was he being ridiculous? Did he just waste years of his life planning and plotting when he could’ve just let it all go and move on? Uni was years ago. Was this all a childish utter waste of time and energy?

Fuck. He cursed himself. What was he doing? It was obvious that you weren’t the same person you were back then. People had the right to change and they did all the time.

“Bucky?” Your voice dragged him back to reality. “Are you okay?” You got up from your chair and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him as you said, “Thank you for bringing me here, I love it.” You buried your face into his chest and sighed, “You seem tired. Can we get into the hot tub now? I think we both need to relax for a minute.”

He looked down at you and nodded, smiling as he touched your face gently. “Of course, angel.”

—

Bucky knew he seemed distant while he was in the hot tub with you, not even the breathtaking view of the woods and the lights from the small town could cheer him up. His mind was far away, even while you were in his lap.

“Hey,” You whispered, leaning in to kiss his rough cheek. “What’s going on with you?” You asked quietly.

“Nothing.” He forced a soft smile and said, “Just work stuff.”

You looked a little disappointed. “I thought you wanted this time away from everyone.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him, your bare chest pressing against his. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll stop worrying about the rest of the world.” He nuzzled your neck and kissed you until you giggled, until that disappointed look on your face disappeared. “It’s just you and me.”

Then what started out as innocent kisses, turned into steamy making out, then turned into the two of you fucking until you were completely spent.

—

The next two days went by quickly. Bucky lost track of time since he was so lost in you. It was so easy to pretend. To pretend that this was real and that he wasn’t just here with you because of some grunge he’d been nurturing since he was in his early twenties.

But then came your last night here at his log home. And Bucky could barely sleep. He kept tossing and turning, while you were sleeping soundly next to him. He was feeling a lot. Anger, regret, guilt.

He couldn’t stay in bed any longer. So he got up and walked downstairs, straight to that secret door behind which was his ‘study room’. This room contained everything he knew and had gathered about you since his uni days. Photographs, addresses, phone numbers, everything. And there, occupying the entirety of one of the walls was the bulletin board he used to keep track of everything. Where you went, who you met, details about people from your inner circle, literally everything.

Bucky stood in front of the giant bulletin board that had a picture of you right in the middle, surrounded by pictures of you no one else had, pictures you didn’t even know were taken of you. In hotel lobbies, at airports, inside your homes, and more. Bucky’s eyes followed that red thread he used to mark each step of his ‘plan’, and the rope ended here – at the log house. The was plan was simple, all he had to do was–

“What the hell is this?” A shaky voice asked from behind him.

Bucky froze for a second, then kept his calm. Fuck it. He wasn’t gonna be able to pretend for much longer anyway. “I thought you were sleeping.”

He turned around and faced you. You stood at the door which he carelessly forgot to lock behind him. There, in your pink PJs, looking at him with accusation and fear in your eyes. He hated that look. Suddenly Bucky was even angrier, at himself, at the situation he thought he had under control, at everything.

He knew how this looked. He was standing a few feet away from you with a poker face, and that damn wall behind him was like a silent but deadly monster ready to pounce. He noticed the way you were shaking already.

“Who are you?” You asked him, hands trembling even as you tried to keep your calm. Acting rash wouldn’t help you.

So smart. So brave.

“Forgot me so soon, angel?” Bucky scoffed, “You don’t remember me? It’s only been, what, like ten years since uni? James? The kid with glasses you liked to bully? You’d slash my tires for fun,” He began listing, “You’d make up rumours about me, you’d chased away all the friends I made, you’d cast me out and make sure I was alone all the time, you really did act like it was your world and we were all just living in it back then, remember? You and your minions?” Bucky shook his head, “I know you remember.”

A shaky exhale, then you whispered under your breath, as if to yourself, starting to back away as the realisation set in. “No… why would you–,”

Bucky reached for and grabbed your wrist before you could get away from him. He slammed the door shut behind you and pushed you against it. Once locked, the door only opened with the code was entered. And you didn’t know the code, so you were well trapped with him in this room.

“Why would I?” He asked, dramatically. Placing his hands on the door behind you, trapping you between the hard, cold wood and his body, his tattooed, bare chest pressing against you. Bucky said, “Because you made my life hell that’s why. I’m not that kid anymore.” He whispered, his tone icy and mean. “I’m all grown up now, and I deserve to have some fun, don’t I?” He watched as tears fell down your face. “Aww, are you crying, baby? Hmm?” He leaned closer to you and whispered against the side of your trembling mouth, knowing his beard felt rough against your skin, “You ruined my plans with your pretty face, with that sweet look in your eyes, and your addicting fucking pussy, and now you’re crying?” He taunted, enjoying the way you gasped in surprise at his crude words.

He also noted how you didn’t even try to push him away. It’s like you rolled over and admitted defeat. You weren’t even trying to fight back. But you did look terrified.

Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “I intended to mess with you for a little bit, and make you pay for how you treated me all those years ago.” He explained. “But having you mess with my head in return wasn’t in the plans, you know?”

“Please,” You whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me go. I’ll do anything, Bucky. I’m sorry.” More tears rolled down your cheeks. “Please.” You begged again.

Bucky, despite the guilt he’d felt just moments ago, scoffed in your face with a smirk on his own. “That’s not what you were begging for just an hour ago, was it?” Bucky pouted and then with his best whiny voice mocked you, “‘oh please baby, that’s it, fuck you feel so good. More, more, please, oh fuck please–,”

You cut him off with a slap across the face. Bucky chuckled like an asshole, not feeling the pain at all, even though it sent his face sideways because he wasn’t expecting it. And somehow getting a reaction out of you tasted so sweet. He wanted more.

“Do you remember now? Remember how you made my life miserable?” He asked.

Sniffling, you asked him back, “What do you want? I said I was sorry.”

“Oh no. You don’t get to just apologise. For four years of my life, I’d wake up every single day and hate it.” He said. “Because of you and your cool group of friends.” His tone was so bitter it was unrecognizable. “Did it make you feel good? Making fun of me? Did it make you feel all big and powerful, picking on me?”

You shook your head, sniffling. Looking like you regretted it now. Part of him wanted to end this weird interrogation, but he also needed to know, didn’t he?

So he asked. “Then why did you do it?”

Silence.

One of his hands left the door and wrapped itself around your throat. Bucky felt how you tensed under his touch as he pressed himself against you even more, making sure you couldn’t slip away.

“Buck–,” You squealed, but the way he tightened his grip just a little made you stop.

Bucky continued with his taunts. “Writing all those things on my door. Spreading rumours about me. Ruining any chance I had at real friendships with people. You think that was funny?”

You finally found your voice, though quiet and pleading. “Those were stupid, childish pranks, Bucky please, and I am so s–”

He cut you off again, raising his voice a little. “Childish pranks to you! For me those childish pranks of yours made my life hell for four years.” He scoffed. “You were the popular girl everyone wanted. Your parents were rich. You had everything most of us didn’t have. So why did you do it?” He questioned. “Why did you pick on me? Why not the others? What did I ever do to you to deserve that treatment?” His voice went down so low it made you tremble.

He loved it. The power he held in that moment. For a moment, he wished the younger him had felt half the way he felt right now. He decided to mess with you just a little more. Scaring you with his words, because he knew he could never hurt you. Not like this. “We’re all alone up this mountain, you know?” He said, in a calm voice that only made your tears flow even more. “No neighbours,” He reminded you. “No one to hear you scream, no one to help you.” He surprised himself with how cold he sounded, like he was someone else.

“Please.” You begged, unable to say anything else.

“I used to dream about this, you know?” He confessed. “About having you at my mercy. About having you plead and beg me.” He chuckled, staring right into your eyes. “It’s fucked up, you see? I could never understand it.”

He tilted his head to the side, sliding his thigh in between your legs, loving the way you gasped and instinctively, mindlessly spread your legs ever so gently to let him in, it was barely noticeable.

“As much as I hated you before, as much as you were a total bitch to me, I never stopped wondering what it would be like to be inside you.” He scoffed, as if at a memory. “I used to fantasize about it back in uni too. I always wondered what it would be like to have you open and soft and wet for me.” He pressed his leg up against your core. “To hear you purr and moan, and fuck me,” He laughed, “You’re better than what I imagined.”

You were trapped in place, unable to move, unable to look away. Bucky could tell you were scared, but there was something else in your eyes that he couldn’t quite name. A strange calmness of sorts.

Bucky continued his monologue, rubbing his thigh so gently in between your legs. He doubted you even noticed because all you did was stare at him with teary eyes, that strange look in them, and your soft mouth slightly open. “So what is it about you, huh?” He squeezed his hand around your throat for just a second before letting go, he could feel your pulse quicken. “What is it about this god damn pussy that made me ruin my own plans.” He scoffed in disappointment. “I never intended to keep you around for so long. I wanted to bring you up here as quickly as possible, mess with you a little bit, scare you and send you running. And in the meantime make you regret how you treated me all those years ago.”

Bucky pulled his thigh away from yours, and smirked when you gasped at the loss of contact. Ah, so you were enjoying it. He was sure he looked just as smug as he felt.

“But,” Bucky continued, “All I’ve done since I met you is be buried deep into that pussy. And anytime I’m not in there I think about it. About you. About your taste. The sounds you make when I’m fucking you. The way you say my name. The way you look under me. The way your arms and legs wrap around me so perfectly…” He trailed off, noticing the way you squeezed your eyes shut, as if not facing him would erase all those weeks you spent tangled with one another.

“Look at me,” He murmured, still in that mean and cold voice. The one he could barely recognise. He didn’t sound like someone who hated you. He sounded like someone who was obsessed. “A few weeks in your company and I’m willing to do just about anything to keep you looking at me with that dreamy look in your eyes.” He said, sincerely. “I wanna give you everything. Wanna take you anywhere you wanna go. Show you everything. Make all your wishes come true.”

He noticed your eyes were still shut. So he got bolder, he reached for your hair and grabbed a fistful securely in his grip, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to open your eyes in fear, panic, and… that strange look he couldn’t quite decipher. “Look at me!” He hissed. “Look at what you’ve done to me! Haven’t you fucked with my head enough?!”

You spoke up this time. Pleading again, “Bucky, I’m so sorry. I mean it. I wasn’t– I wasn’t thinking back then.” You sniffled. “I was so stupid, everything I did was so stupid, Bucky please. I really am sorry.”

“Yeah?” He sounded bored. Then like a switch, he went back to being icy again. “You wanna make up for it?”

A blink. Silence. Then you said, “Don’t hurt me.”

Bucky chuckled. “Oh baby,” He cooed, “Is that what you think I’m gonna do? Hurt you? If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it that same night at the bar.” He shook his head, his hand leaving your hair, coming down to trace the shape of your mouth. “Hurting you was never in the plans.”

You shivered.

“Making you beg for it was.” He stated. “And you will.” He sounded so confident. “You will beg me for it, won’t you? Hmm? You’ll beg me to fuck you. And then you’re gonna say you’re sorry. And you’ll really mean it this time. You want that, don’t you, baby?” He smirked. “Of course you do. Otherwise why would you be rubbing yourself all over me like that?”

You froze, probably just now realising what you’d been doing this whole time. Bucky couldn’t help the smug smirk. Oh fuck, this is everything he’s ever dreamt of. So he reached for you, his hands sliding right up in between your legs.

He watched how you frowned for a moment as he rubbed his fingers against your clothed, but embarrassingly wet folds. Your thin, little satin shorts were barely a barrier.

“Oh?” He teased, “Treating you like a little slut doesn’t turn you off, does it?” He pulled you closer by your throat and you shivered again, whimpering quietly. You gasped as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “You filthy, little whore.” He chuckled, then pushed your shorts and underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out an involuntary moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet. “Yeah? You like that?”

“Please…” You pleaded, still not pushing him away. Your hands remained at your sides. Your body felt warm under his touch, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Please what?” He almost growled as he slid a finger inside you and felt you immediately clench hard around him. “See? This is what I’m talking about. It was so much easier to hate you when I didn’t know what you felt like, what you tasted like,” He spoke, his lips leaving your mouth and trailing to your ear where he whispered, “Now all I wanna do is get inside you and make you happy.” He sighed, then chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

Hearing you whine and gasp as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you was divine.

He added another finger. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Do you feel powerful now as you did back then? Hmm?” He spoke against your cheek, his hot breath fanning your face as he pulled away just a little to look at you. “Is this where you thought you’d be one day, you little slut? At my mercy?” He chuckled, removing his hands from in between your legs as he pulled you away from the door, keeping his hand at your throat simply because he wanted to and moved you until you were sitting on the edge of his large, nearby desk.

He stepped away for a moment, just to look at you and your slightly disheveled state. Your satin PJs sticking to your now damp with sweat skin. You were breathing heavily, your hands clutching the edge of his desk for dear life.

“I want you to get naked and bend over the desk.”

You remained frozen in place, even when the order left his lips. Bucky toyed with his lip ring, before pulling it into his mouth while he stared into your eyes. “Did you not hear me?”

Finally finding your voice, you whispered again, “Bucky, I said I was sorry.”

Bucky stepped closer until he stood right in front of you and reached out to grab your hair at the back of your neck again, fisting it securely in his grip as he tugged just a little to tilt your head back. It seemed to be the only way he got your attention. He leaned in to nuzzle your neck, kissing along your throat, lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I don’t want your apology. I want you begging for me. Now, didn’t you hear what I said? I told you to bend over the desk for me.” He used that tone again, the icy one. The one that said you were in trouble if you didn’t do what he asked.

So you did.

When he released you, you held his stare with some cold defiance in your eyes as you discarded your PJs. You’d gotten naked with him multiple times over the last month or two, so this was nothing. Once done, you turned around and bent over the edge of his large desk.

You sighed in defeat when your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head. You ass pressed against the front of his sweatpants and you whimpered at the feel of his thick, hard cock beneath the fabric, rubbing against your soft folds.

You felt his hands on your body. He placed his hands on each side of your waist and caressed your body, rubbing up and down along your sides, touching your ass but not once touching you right where you needed him to.

You gasped, then he noticed you quickly bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud.

He scoffed before pinching your skin to make you gasp again, “I wanna hear every little sound you make.” He finally trailed his fingers down in between your legs and lazily traced along your slit. “So wet and ready for me.” He chuckled.

He heard your gasping and whimpering as quietly as you could as he lazily finger-fucked you. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you. Teasing you a bit more before pulling out.

Bucky lowered his sweats to free his cock, then his hands were on you again. He grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet.

He waited, he could almost feel your heart racing as he did nothing but wait for a reaction from you. He caught the way you discretely tried to push back into him but he moved away, chuckling as you whined in desperation.

“Aww, what is it?” He asked, leaning over your exposed back. His chest pressing down onto you as he whispered into your ear. “You want this cock? Huh? You want it so bad, don’t you?” He hissed, “Then beg for it, slut.”

He heard a weak, “Please,” but that wasn’t enough now, was it?

“I said, beg.”

“Please… Bucky, I– I want your cock. So bad.” You whispered. “Please, can I have it?” Like you were ashamed of wanting him. “I’ll be good from now on, I promise.”

He wasn’t expecting that last part, but honestly, how sweet was it to hear!

Pleased with your begging, Bucky groaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you, feeling your walls tighten around him. You whimpered as he filled you up, stretching you as he went.

He pulled out and thrust deep into you once again, making you moan and gasp under him. “You’ll be good, huh?” He reached out and grabbed your wrists, pinning them down at your lower back as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Just this cock has you acting right, huh?” He laughed as he fucked deep into you, your front bumping against the edge of the desk each time.

“Yes…,” You admitted. You whimpered as he pounded even harder into you at the sound of that confession. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you.

“Yeah? Not such a proud, arrogant little slut now, are you?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him. “Huh? You’re not as bitchy as you were back then, look at you now. All nice and bent over my desk.” He hissed, “Don’t you dare fucking come yet!”

You whined, “Bucky, I can’t-,”

He cut you off quickly, “Yes you fucking can.” He snarled. “You said you were gonna be good from now on, right? Well hold it then, don’t fucking come yet.” He slammed his cock harder into you, making your eyes squeeze shut. He thrust so deep into you that even the desk moved a little, screeching as it did across the floor.

A loud moan escaped your mouth and Bucky smirked. Looks like you were enjoying this a little too much, huh? He couldn’t have that just yet, now could he? So he pulled out and pulled you up and off the desk, turning you around so you faced him.

Your lips parted as you gasped for air, your tear stained face was a sight to behold. And that wild hunger in your eyes because even given the situation, he fucked you good and knew how to make you want more of it, and he knew that.

“Get on your knees.” He ordered. “Now.”

He was surprised at how quick you were, obeying immediately, falling perfectly on your knees in front of him. You watched him with a hunger in your teary eyes. And that strange look still. You kept your eyes on his as he grabbed his glistening cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth, spreading your own wetness all over your mouth and said, “Be a good little slut, and suck.”

You did. You opened wide as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into your mouth. You took him in slowly until he hit the back of your throat. He gripped the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he spoke, “Now, worship this fucking cock like it’s the only thing you’re good for. He smirked as you began moving immediately, “That's it. Make me fucking come, you filthy little slut.”

You looked up at him, and for a moment, Bucky was fully captivated. Like he was in a trance. There you were, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do. Just like how he’d always dreamt of.

“Oh, look at you,” He cooed, as if mocking you. “Working hard for this cock, huh? Remember that night at the bar, bet you wanted it right there. You could barely wait to have it, could you? You barely bothered to ask me my full name,” He chuckled. “You were just so hungry for it.” Bucky let out a carefree chuckle as he looked down at you, “Tell me, do you still want it just the same now that you know who I really am?” He asked, knowing damn well you couldn’t respond with his cock filling your mouth.

Another tear dropped from your eye, but then you nodded awkwardly, mouth still around his tip.

“Yeah, you do. ‘Cause you’re nothing but a cock hungry little slut, aren’t you?” He groaned at the sight of you with your mouth full and said, “That’s it. Get up.”

You listened, and he shoved you up on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. His hand grabbed you by the chin, holding your face in place as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease, making you gasp as he began fucking you again.

“Look at you,” He spoke through gritted teeth, now fucking you with a rougher pace. “Fucking disgusting with spit and precum all over your mouth,” He whispered, leaning in just to mess with you – not once kissing you. He pushed your thighs further apart so he could fuck you deeper.

“Bucky…” You gasped.

“What, slut?” He fucked deeper into you, pounding into you relentlessly. “Your little cunt feels so good, you know that? So fucking tight,” He whispered against your mouth, before pulling away to spit into your open mouth, not once stopping his thrusts. “It’s a shame you were such a bitch back then, otherwise you could’ve had this cock a long time ago.”

“Please…” You whined as he pounded into you aggressively. A tear slipped out of the corner of your eye.

“Yeah? You’re sorry now?”

You nodded.

Bucky felt your walls clench violently around him. “Fuck,” He growled into your ear, “Are you gonna come for me? You're gonna come all over this cock? Huh?”

“Yes,” You whimpered, “Yes, please.” You cried in pleasure and pain. “Please, Buck.”

“Damn it!” He groaned. “Fuck you! Fuck you for being so good. For messing with my head.” He hissed, staring deep into your eyes, “And fuck you for not letting me enjoy this as much as I wanted to because I can’t bring myself to fucking hurt you!”

Bucky slowed down just a little, making you cry out.

“I dreamt of this, you know? All I’ve ever done is think about this moment right here. I always thought I’d scare you to a point where you take off running,” He scoffed, “Hell, I even fantasized about chasing after you in these damn woods!” He shook his head, still holding your stare. “Look at me now, look! Even now I couldn’t help but make it nice and good for you. To fuck you like I know you like it. I couldn’t help but be buried deep inside you yet again!”

“I’m sorry,” You whined, “I really am.”

Bucky wanted to punch himself.

“Shut the fuck up and come for me!”

A loud cry, then you came – mumbling and whining and crying. A complete mess on his desk.

Bucky followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh so tightly that his fingers would surely leave a bruise behind. He caught you just as you fell forward into his chest, unable to hold yourself up as you caught your breath.

Bucky calmed himself down, let out a sigh and glared at that damned, giant bulletin board covering the entire wall behind you as he wrapped his arms around your shaking body. God damn it.

—

Reader’s POV:

Your memory was a little hazy after that. You remembered bits and pieces. How he got you into the shower. His gentle touches, even as he washed himself. His hands and how they never left your body, holding you close and cleaning you up as best he could.

Him whispered, “I’ve got you.” Over and over again. Like he was guilty.

You remember you tried talking to him, as he dried you with a fluffy towel, “You hate me.” It came out like a statement.

“Be quiet.” His icy voice snapped, and he refused to meet your eyes. The coldness of his tone and the soothing, gentle touch of his hands were giving you a whiplash. But you took it. Of course, you did.

“Would you ever forgive me?” You asked him as he wrapped your favourite fluffy robe around you and brought you to bed. It was late, closer to sunrise than midnight. “Could you?”

Bucky finally looked at you and said, “Just… be quiet.” His tone was much softer than earlier. “Here, drink this.” He handed you some water. You accepted it, sipping on it as you let him fuss over the bedding and blankets until he made a nice little nest for you to sink into.

You thought he’d tuck you in and leave, probably to go back to that weird lair of his downstairs. But no, he got in after you. Quiet, and grumpy as he was, he still pulled in to cuddle like you two had the habit of doing for the past month or two.

You hid your face into his chest, sighing and breathing in his scent, letting his body heat warm you up. You could hear the wind picking up outside, but that was none of your concern.

A minute went by in silence, in darkness, except for the bedside lamp which illuminated the room with a soft golden glow. Another minute went by, Bucky breathed steadily. His hands moving up and down your back. Both of you were quiet.

There was so much you wanted to say to him, but all that came out was, “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

He sighed, then let out a mindless, “Hmm.”

“I really am.” You whispered again, snuggling closer as if you wanted to get inside his skin.

Another careless, “Hmm.”

You sniffled, feeling like crying again. “Please forgive me.”

“Stop crying.” He said, gently this time.

“I’ll make up for it.” You found yourself saying. “I’ll do anything. I mean it.”

Bucky sighed. “Oh yeah? How will you make up for it?” He said, with just a hint of pleasantry in his tone.

“How many kids do you want?”

Bucky chuckled. Genuinely chuckled, not like the mocking ones from earlier. But this was boyish, and very him. “You’re finishing your book tour soon.” He said. “Then you’ve got to start on your new project.” He sighed again, sounding a little tired and spent. “No kids for now, angel.”

Silence again. This silence felt way less tense than before. Bucky’s movements were getting slower and slower as he relaxed more and more.

Then out of nowhere you asked, “Have you… ever read any of my books?”

A pause. Then he said, “All of them.”

That took you by genuine surprise. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

You hesitated to ask, “Do you like them?

Bucky let out a soft chuckle. “Do I like them?” He taunted. “Look at me. I became what you write about.” Then he reached for your face, tilting your head up so he could look at you. “Yes I do. I like them.” He said. “You’re very talented, baby. You deserved all the attention and recognition you get.”

“Oh.”

Silence again. You looked away from him, but he must’ve been able to see the gears turning in your head so he gently smacked your thigh and said, “Stop thinking.” He pulled the covers around you once again, making sure you were nice and warm. “Go to sleep.” He said.

You snuggled deeper into his side, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. A few minutes went by, and Bucky fell asleep before you did. He began snoring softly just moments after.

You stayed awake though. Thinking, caressing his bare chest. After all, how could one sleep after finally getting to where they plotted to be for the last ten years? You hid a smirk as you kissed Bucky’s warm, tattooed chest. You whispered, quietly, “Took me a decade to get to you, Buck. But it was all worth it.” You snuggled deeper into his side. Smiling at his adorable snores.

Bucky was indeed a mastermind. Stalking you, following your each and every move. Keeping track of where you were and where you went at all times, who you met and what you did. It couldn’t have been easy.

He thought he alone plotted this whole thing. He thought that he was the only one manipulating circumstances in ways to get what he wanted. Into getting you to let your guard down and let him in. Thinking you didn’t recognise him that night you met at the bar.

Thinking you forgot.

You let out a little chuckle, “Oh Buck. You did so well. But you don’t know half the work I put into all this.” You sighed, kissing his bare chest again, “Do you even know how much work goes into

manipulating someone into thinking they’re successfully manipulating you?”

Bucky was a mastermind. Each one of his moves were perfectly calculated. He was so smart. He’d always been, ever since uni.

But Bucky wasn’t the only mastermind. Because you plotted too.

Always holding or attending book signings, readings, or other events in cities he was in. Always being around, but right outside of his circle – enough so that in these past ten years, he never stopped hearing about you from friends or colleagues, or friends of friends. Always making sure your advertisements were on billboards that were near his houses, offices, hang out spots, etc.

All that was by your design. You made sure you’d never leave his head.

You do admit, being mean to him in uni was stupid and unforgivable. But what else were you supposed to do? How else were you going to live rent free in his head? He never made a move on you in uni because he was also so intimidated. Always so shy, and quiet.

So you did what you had to do. Sure, it took years. And the whole time, you let him think he was the only one orchestrating this. You let him think his manipulation techniques were working. You let him think he was punishing you when really, you’d been dreaming of these punishments ever since you saw him that first day on campus.

Earlier, in the study, when you saw that bullet board and froze – it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of surprise. You knew Bucky always kept a close eye on you and everything you did these past years. You even let him. You let his guys follow you around, you let them overhear details you wanted Bucky to know. You let Bucky watch you, purposely lingering around cameras whenever you were out.

But you didn’t know his obsession mirrored yours. Because if he would’ve searched your penthouse a little more thoroughly, he would’ve found a similar bulletin board that you’d been keeping for years now – tracking him and all that he did.

You placed another kiss on Bucky’s chest and sighed in bliss. “You’re not the only mastermind, baby. But it’s not a competition now, is it? We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?” You asked, looking up to see his peaceful, sleeping face. “Huh, baby? It’s alright. You’re a tiny bit sloppy with your stalking skills, but never mind. I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.”

---

a/n: it's been a while huh-

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #dark!bucky

897 notes · View notes

dumpywrites · 4 months ago

Text

Trophy Boy - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, model! Jungkook, soft! Jungkook, office worker reader

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

Word count: 5.7k

a/n: softie and goofy Jungkook is my weakness! and I know ya'll feel the same way :)

Yet another busy day at the office. You were sitting down in a slumped position in your cubicle, something you should probably change or would regret in the future. The hot air was not helping you at all and you were starting to sweat through your stripped shirt, despite the air conditioner being on full blast.

Boss just entered the room with the not-so-short rant targeted specifically to the marketing team. Apparently interest in buying plain tees and other basic fashion items were not the greatest at the moment, but if you actually were to be frank, it was more on the brand you were working at. Your boss was blaming things left and right, trying to find excuses to cope with his current losses.

The thing was with the big guy, was that he wanted huge impact while spending the smallest amount he could possibly afford. It was a somewhat clever business decision in terms of saving cost, but sometimes people just needed that extra boom. That go big or go home. If your boss wanted his brand to reach a new market of people, he needed to brave himself for greater risks.

“Sir, maybe we do need to endorse some big name influencers to help boost our social media exposure.” One of your co-workers spoke up.

“We cannot afford millions just for a few Instagram stories, moreover they charge more for a simple photoshoots.” Your boss replied with a groan.

“Sir, but if you look at how Calvin Klein promote their stuff, we obviously need some good looking people wearing and demonstrating how good our products could be.” The guy retorted. “Good looking people make basic items look good. That’s literally what they do.”

“Good looking people cost a lot, Hoseok. If you could somehow find me a drop dead gorgeous guy who would somehow accept anything under thirty dollars per hour, we’ll talk.” And with that the man walked out from the room.

“Well good luck on that, I guess.” Hoseok rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“At this rate you’re gonna get kick out.” You eyed the guy next to you. “We don’t want that, remember? We need you resigning with class, so that you don’t get a bad rep???”

“That man needs to know that whatever boomer shit we’re doing here, ain’t gonna boost our sales!” He protested. “You could buy plain white t-shirts anywhere, what makes us special?!”

“True.” You sighed. “I even heard the design team complaining about this.”

“If only we could afford that one handsome mukbang streamer who is everywhere right now.” Hoseok sighed along with you.

“If you could magically make Kim Seokjin to accept three hundred per hour I would literally worship you.”

“Do you maybe have any hot friends?”

“God, I don’t know?! Do you??? I don’t have any friends who are influencers or anything.”

“Can I see any group photos you have? They don’t have to be an influencer. Just gotta be good looking enough. The rest can be helped through styling.” Hoseok scooted closer.

“You sound crazy.” You eyed the guy, shaking your head. “Are we that desperate?!”

“Hey, maybe doing this could help me get that recommendation letter, you know?” Hoseok said smugly. “Now let me look through your friend group…”

“If you want a decent looking guy that we could revamp by styling later, Yoongi literally exists.” You said, suggesting the tech-support guy.

“He’s short. Although I get your point, would he even be willing to do so without actually killing any of us???”

“Fair enough.” You laughed. “Here, I don’t know, take a look at my friends, I guess…”You handed him your phone.

The picture you flashed on your phone screen was from a recent dinner hangout you had with your group friend of five. Hoseok throughly scanned the photo as if he was doing some detective work. It did not take him too long before an idea popped and he snapped his fingers. He straightened his pose and moved his chair closer to you.

“Who is this hunk with tattoos?!”

“Uh, that’s my friend Jungkook?” You eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me—“

“He’s hot.”

You stopped and looked back to your co-worker’s direction. “He’s the most unserious person I know, we can’t—“

“But he’s hot.” Hoseok cut your sentence again. “He’s not like a model or something, right?”

“He’s a graphic designer…” You replied, unsure.

“Perfect! That means he won’t mind us underpaying him.” He smirked. “Do not argue with me right now, I know you agree with me.”

You eyed the guy again, searching for doubt and found none. The guy was dead serious about this.

“Fine.”

And that was how you found yourself assisting your friend for his now third photoshoot. After the first one being a huge success, your company kept asking for more content and for him to become their part time model.

Obviously your friend’s beauty was no news for you. Jungkook had always been cute in your eyes alone, way before he discovered Pinterest and basic styling. You had known him for a few years, the friend group was built around university days after all, and you had seen him through thick and thin. Literally though, you saw him transformed from this scrawny boy to a gym bro right in front of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a few knocks at the door. You straightened your figure and told the person to enter.

“Hi, Y/N!”

It was Chaewon from design department. Her alongside with Jimin both work in the fashion area. While she designed the silhouettes, Jimin helped with the styling. Even though she was a normal employee like you, she actually was the CEO’s daughter. It was a known fact already, but she insisted to be treated the same as everyone else.

“Hi, do you need something, Chaewon?”

“I need to talk to you about something…” The girl said, looking nervous. She was fidgeting her fingertips and looking to other direction.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Jungkook’s your friend, right?”

“Uh, yeah… why?”

“I really need your help.” She put her hands together above her head. “I need a plus one to a wedding.”

“And you need Jungkook to help you?” You looked at her questioningly.

“Yes!” She said, nodding her head a few times. “Please, my ex is gonna be there.”

“I’m not sure if he’s willing—“

“I’ll pay.”

You froze and she continued again.

“I overheard you talking to Hoseok that Jungkook’s not getting the pay he deserves because he’s new…“

“Chaewon, you don’t have to—“

“Please, just this once??? If it makes you feel better I’ll pay you both.” When you stopped she added. “Is five hundred enough? I’ll give you the same amount.”

You gulped. So unlike her father, Chaewon was not at all stingy. Her offer sounded really tempting. While you wanted to say it sounded good in your head out of good conscious in you, because Jungkook deserved better pay, you also couldn’t lie to yourself that you needed the extra dollars at the moment. Accidentally dropping your phone from the stairs and having to replace the whole screen certainly did a dent to your savings. Not to mention how your car just broke down a month ago.

“I’ll… ask him.”

“Awesome. Let me know as soon as possible cause the wedding’s this weekend!” She smiled before exiting the room.

You spent the next few hours contemplating with your inner debate. It sounded rather wrong, but there’s no harm if he agrees to it? You thought.

“Hey, there!”

Speak of the devil. There he was, skipping through the office walking straight to your shared room. The muscle bunny, sometimes his duality scared you, how his facial expression and demeanor could switch in between takes and breaks. He looked effortlessly good with the brand’s blank white t-shirt hugging his body nicely. Let Jimin cook because he styled his hair wavy this time and it looked so good on him.

“Hello to you too, Mr. Model.” You shook your head, smiling. “Done with the shoots?”

“Yep. I finished an hour earlier this time.” He leaned to your table with a grin on his lips.

“You didn’t give Jimin and Chaewon a hard time, right?” You said, mentioning the design team.

“Nope.” He giggled. “Chaewon even said that I’ve improved a lot and I barely need any pose references now.”

“That’s great.” You said with your eyes still glued to the computer screen.

He hummed and took the empty seat next to you. He started flipping through his phone, not wanting to disturb you but also not wanting to leave.

“Aren’t you leaving? Hoseok’s meeting is done in like ten minutes. He’s gonna need that seat.” You pointed.

He bit his inner cheeks. “What time are you finished?”

“At five? And you knew this already, stop asking.”

“Who knows if I keep asking, one day you’ll get to clock out earlier.” He shrugged.

You chuckled. “You know you don’t have to wait up for me every single time.”

“You got me the job, it’s only fair. Besides, I’m not doing photoshoots every single day.”

Yeah and they’re underpaying you. You sighed. “Kook, I want to ask you something…”

His eyes lit up as he perked up, looking to your direction like a puppy. He nodded eagerly with a smile, waiting for you. “Yeah?”

“Chaewon asked me if you’d be interested on being her plus one at a wedding?”

The excitement in his face dropped almost instantly. You could see his eyes frowned at the question thrown at him.

“That’s weird. Why would she?”

“It’s a wedding and her ex is attending.” You explained. “She said she’ll pay.”

“Nah, that’s still fucked up though. Isn’t she the big boss’ daughter or something?!” He raised his eyebrows.

“But she’ll pay.” You repeated. “She told me five hundred…”

“Oh shit.” He widened his eyes. “For real?!”

You nodded. “Just say yes, it’s literally just a one time thing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll help you out with everything.”

He breathed out a sigh. “Alright, only if you’ll help me out.”

“Great, I’ll let Chaewon know.” You turned your head quickly realizing Hoseok was already at the door. “Go home, don’t wait up for me.”

He shook his head and smile. “Okay, don’t forget to eat, yeah?”

“I won’t. See ya, Kook.”

He waved his hand to you with a big tooth-aching smile and headed towards the door. He briefly waved to Hoseok and the guy greeted him back before he went out.

“How are you not dating that dude is beyond me.” Hoseok suddenly blurted as he calmly took his seat.

You almost choked on nothing. “Excuse me?!”

“That boy is clearly into you. He basically waits for you every single time like an obedient dog.”

“Cause he’s my friend and I technically got him this job? He said it himself.”

“Sure.” He snickered, eyes immediately back to his computer screen. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will because that’s the truth.” You rolled your eyes and returned to your work.

As promised, you found yourself accompanying Jungkook on a Saturday morning, helping him choosing a suit. Jimin was kind enough to recommend you a good place to rental one. Man only had baggy clothes and baggy clothes only in his wardrobe, and for sure they were not a good fit for a wedding.

“Have you asked Chaewon what color she’ll be wearing?” Jungkook asked as he browsed through the hanger.

“Didn’t I gave you her number? You should talk to her you know, it’ll be less awkward.”

The guy puffed his cheeks, pouting. “Dunno dude… It still feels kinda weird to me. I’ll rehearse when I pick her up.”

“Oh, speaking of that. I’ve rented the car for you. It’s a Lexus.”

“Couldn’t afford a Porche or some?”

“I figured we don’t need to be that flashy.”

“I was joking.” Jungkook sighed with a smile. “It’s always straight up business with you, huh?”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You looked at him for a second, but proofing him right as your eyes quickly moved to the loafer shoes at the shelf. “I think these could go well with your suit.”

The man sighed again with a defeated smile on his face as he took the loafer to try them on. “This is fun too, I guess…”

“You mean renting an outfit and cosplaying as a rich person?” You quirked your eyebrow and grinned.

“No, I mean hanging out with you like this, silly. When was even the last time we hangout like this?” He chuckled, jumping up and down as he tried the shoes. “Would you look at that, I could probably dance in these!”

“We’ll take those then.” You gestured him to take them off and he did so. “I don’t know, back in college??? Back then when I helped you buying an outfit for—“

“Don’t!” With his eyes widened he immediately stopped you from finishing your sentence.

“Why?” You laughed.

“Do not even man… that was so embarrassing.” He covered his face. “My confidence level was through the roof thinking I could win someone with a bowl cut.”

“Hey, that bowl cut wasn’t so bad!” You chuckled. “Aww, I suddenly missed the cute and innocent looking Jungkookie…”

“You mean I don’t look cute and innocent anymore?” He batted his eyelashes at you jokingly.

“Taehyung thought you were a drug dealer when he first met you.” You folded your arms.

“He’s a judgmental person.” He clicked his tongue. “I am in fact still cute, you need to accept that.”

“Sure.” You giggled and patted him right in his tatted bicep.

There were some audible protests coming from your friend, but you let him be as you paid for the rented clothings and footwear.

After making sure all things were set, you texted Chaewon to double check on the time and place, as well as asking her on whether there was a specific topic she wanted to talk or not to talk. Jungkook still refused to call her or even text her personally, which is a bit annoying, but at the end of the day you were also getting that paycheck so you couldn’t complain too much, since Jungkook was the main performer in this after all.

“All good?” You asked him.

“Do you think I should take off my lip piercings?” He said, looking at the mirror.

“Nah, it’s fine. Chaewon already knows what she’s doing when she asked for you.”

“She specifically wants a bad boy for a plus one?”

“Now who says you’re a bad boy?”

“I thought we just had a talk about how I don’t look cute and innocent anymore???” He turned to face you. “Although, I’m not a believer but that’s your statement.” He shrugged with a big smirk on his lips.

“Your exterior yes, but you’re not fooling anyone with your personality, my guy. You’re a softie.” You chuckled and moved closer to fix his crooked tie.

A genuine smile was visible on his face. “Glad to hear that.”

Seeing his smile instantly made you did as well. “Nervous?”

“Me? Nah, never.” He dismissed.

“Of course.” You giggled. “Go, we’re so gonna try that new Japanese restaurant after this!”

And the party went well. Apparently Jungkook impressed all of Chaewon’s friends, even though they were not the main target and some were even aware of the agreement. Most importantly, he got her ex’s attention. He got the guy approaching, introducing himself, and seemingly pissed when Jungkook decided not to reveal his name to him in return.

In conclusion, Chaewon had a great time and both of you were paid handsomely. Oh, that wagyu beef you had together afterwards sure was delicious!

“I may need to borrow Jungkook again.”

You stared at the lady in front of you, fazed. Chaewon had just stopped you right after work, just randomly popping the sentence out of nowhere. You were not too sure how to react.

“I’ll pay again! Don’t worry.” She giggled nervously. “It’s just that, my parents actually think it’s good if I have someone with me to attend a shareholder party…”

“I see.” Was all you could say.

“They don’t know I’m paying both of you but they do think he’s one good looking arm candy…”

You sure did not like how she phrased that.

“It’ll be quicker than the wedding, it’s just a small dinner.” She reasoned again. “Can you ask Jungkook?”

“Why don’t you?” You cleared your throat quickly after realizing how that might sound rude. “I mean, you could just ask him?”

“I don’t think he’s that comfortable with me… He also talked to me through you, no? Please, I really need your help.”

“I…” The thought of your unfinished car payment started to fill your mind again. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I’m counting on you.” She quickly reached for your hand and shook it vigorously. “And uh, keep it between us but I think you’ll be getting a raise next month with your contribution and all.” She winked before leaving you.

The whole ride back home got you thinking deeply. Mostly considering your morals and common sense. Sure it was easy money on your part, and while Jungkook himself had not shown major complaints, you couldn’t help but to feel awful. You then decided to give him a call.

“Ye?” The guy on the other line sounded like he had food inside his mouth as he spoke.

“You busy?”

“Wait.” He said, seemingly taking his time to swallow. “No, I was just catching up on Squid Game with Bam. What’s up?”

“Chaewon kinda asked for your help again.”

“Huh?” He voiced, followed by an upcoming video call notification.

“Wait, do you really have to video call right now???” You swore you almost laughed, this man could be out of this world sometimes.

“I need your live reaction.” He chuckled. “And Bam too! Don’t you miss him?”

“Shit, hold on.” You quickly took a peek at your reflection in the mirror, making sure your at home appearance was at least presentable before you accept the call request. “You are so weird, you know that?”

“I’m aware.” He laughed and took his dog’s paw to playfully wave at you, making you smile.

“So uh, about Chaewon…”

“Oh yeah, that.” He frowned. “Do I need to go to another wedding? Damn, people must really care about the declining birth rate…”

“Her parents apparently wanted her to go to a dinner with the shareholders.” You controlled yourself not to make any weird expression, thinking about the word eye-candy Chaewon called him still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Oh, am I gonna get introduced as a model?” He beamed. “That’d be cool.”

“I don’t know.” You said, trying not to sound discouraging. “She’s gonna pay again though…”

“Ah…” He nodded, biting his inner cheeks. “I kinda need me a new camera…”

“So?”

“Yeah, why the heck not.” He shrugged. “Does this mean we’ll get another makeover montage moment though???”

“We don’t need to rent a suit for this but I’ll help you out with your outfit choices, I guess.”

“Cool, it’s a date then?”

You looked at him a bit weirded out but man just flashed you a big grin like it was nothing.

“What?! I mean it’s kinda like a date since I don’t have to dress all formal.” He chuckled.

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes.

“I wonder though, I’m not one to judge but can’t she have anyone, I don’t know… more normal?” He then threw a cheeto in his mouth, snacking on it. “She’s a rich girl who’s also conveniently good looking. I’m sure there’s someone willing to go without payment.”

“You think she’s pretty?”

“I mean yeah.” He said, casually crunching on another cheeto.

You didn’t know why a random opinion of his bothered you somehow, but you decided to shoo the thoughts away. “I don’t know but I think you’re underestimating the power you hold here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungkook, you are aware that you’re hot, right?” That might be too bold of you, but you were feeling a bit frisky.

“Oooh~” He laughed giddily. “Didn’t know you think of me that way but thank you.”

“Don’t play dumb, I wouldn’t offer you the job if I thought otherwise.”

“I’m so telling the others. They need to know that you find me hot.”

“Jungkook, what the hell—“

“Matter of fact, I’m gonna invite Taehyung to this call…” He snickered.

“What?! No!” You quickly pressed the end call button out of panic.

A text notification showed up immediately after the line ended, filled with a bunch of laughing emojis, saying that he was just joking and that he would see you on the next photoshoot. You wondered what made your heart doing summersaults but it did for a moment.

“What do girls even like?” Jungkook asked you as he put on his leather jacket. “I probably won’t need this since I won’t be riding my bike, huh?”

You were sitting on his bed, one which had a few clothings messily displayed. It was an off day but you needed to help him with his outfit for another “gig” with Chaewon. The supposed job was not until the next day, but you had to visit your family hence why you were meeting a day prior. To be frank, you didn’t think he even needed you, considering you knew how he dressed on daily basis, but somehow he kept insisting that he needed your opinion as a woman, his words not yours.

“Just be yourself.” You said as you looked at him from top to bottom. “Do not loose the jacket, it’s nice.”

He put the outer back on, admiring at his reflection on the mirror. “You think?”

“I’m sure you go on a lot of dates… I assume.” You gave him a look.

“Oh, you think so?” He chuckled.

You looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know? It’s not like I know your private life like that. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin in a comical way. “Last month, I think?”

You almost asked on why you hadn’t heard any of it, but you felt like it wasn’t your place to. “Oh? How was it?”

“It was okay-ish.” He shrugged. “I think she liked me I dunno…”

“You seem disinterested.”

“You gotta try dating apps man… it drains you so much mentally to the point you start thinking everyone’s the same and nothing really matters.” He laughed.

“You sure you’re not exaggerating?”

“Maybe I am just a bit.” He chuckled. “But man… I’m so fed up with people!” He said, joining you sitting down on his bed.

“Then why don’t you just delete the app?”

He shrugged. “At the end of the day I’m still a human being who needs someone. It gets lonely sometimes.”

“I wanna say working is a great distraction but let’s be honest it’s not.” You shook your head.

“What ever happened to that guy that Namjoon introduced you to?”

“Didn’t quite worked out. Plus, that was like what, five months ago??? Keep up with the news, please.” You laughed.

“And no one told me?!” He looked at you, pretending to be offended.

“It’s not exactly the most interesting story to tell… He’s a nice guy but two weeks into knowing him, he had to move to Singapore for a job.”

“Damn, that’s sad.” He clicked his tongue.

“He’s not exactly my type anyways.” You chuckled.

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, instantly getting a judgy look from you. “How exactly is your type then?”

“I like my men like I like my food.”

“Girlie, you eat anything.” Jungkook slanted his eyes.

“Exactly, I’m not picky. As long as they’re honest and kind… I guess.”

He booed. “That’s boring.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “Hey, I’m a simple person. And in today’s world it’s hard to find someone who has those traits, you know?” You hit his arm. “What about you? Being a model and all now must have set a new standard for you, huh?”

He laughed. “Nah, I don’t really have a type either. I just want someone who matches my freak.”

“That’s gotta be hard.” You giggled.

“Hopefully not.” He grinned. “I mean, you kinda do…” He looked up at the ceiling, playfully whistling.

“Aww, Kookie~” You cooed, teasing him.

“I’m not joking.” He furrowed his brows like a kid.

“Of course not.” You chuckled and ruffled his already messy hair.

Jungkook protested and grabbed your wrist to stop you, but for a moment both of you stopped at eye level, just looking into each other. Your teasing grin slowly faded to be replaced with a tense gaze. The dark round pair of orbs were now staring into your eyes.

Your mind was short circuiting when he suddenly moved closer. Your eyes squinted shut immediately, but nothing really happened after that. Jungkook just laughed it out and softly pushed you off him.

After the second agreement ended successfully, Chaewon had decided to come back yet again asking for Jungkook’s help. For sure she couldn’t be having that many social events to attend to, but apparently she did. This time, she needed him for her school reunion, said that it’d bad for her rep to show up alone after introducing him to her so-called friends just recently.

This time, you were at your limit though. You weren’t so sure how Jungkook felt about the whole ordeal, but you on the other hand felt terrible. You could not just keep continuing and pretending like you weren’t basically selling your friend for money. And so after taking a deep breath, you politely rejected her offer.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be the last time! Please???”She pleaded.

“You need to ask him then, and uh… if he ends up agreeing you don’t have to pay me anymore. I kinda feel bad….”

“Guess I have to ask him myself then.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll ask him after his photoshoot today.”

“I don’t mean to offend you in any way though, I just feel like I’m exploiting him.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” She smiled, waving her hand in front of her face.

When you arrived at the set the photoshoot was nearly on its end. As usual you get to monitor a bit and asked the staff about the progress. What was odd and new to you was seeing Chaewon being touchy with Jungkook. You knew she was a stylist and it was her job to take care of his looks during the shoot, but the high pitch laughs? Did she really need to touch his hair like that? And why did Jungkook seemed fine and joked back with her. The photographer definitely did not have to say that they look good together too.

You did not hear anything from Jungkook after his photoshoot. You were busy with your job, mostly trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were too scared to ask the guy, you were even too anxious to meet him just at the thought of him finding out about your agreement. You didn’t get the chance to find out the event but kept wondering if he had agreed or not. Seeing how friendly they were today, maybe he did say yes to it.

You also wondered since when did you start feeling jealous over this whole situation. Maybe that one moment between you and Jungkook that day really did something to you. He was about to kiss you, wasn’t he? Or maybe you were just going crazy.

Funny enough, you thought the lad had went home straight after his photoshoot, but he surprised you with two cups of boba in his hands right after work.

“You’re still here?!” You were surprised.

“I didn’t wanna bother you, you seemed very focused today.” He giggled and handed you one of the drinks. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and finish the drink, I’ll take you home after.”

You gulped, the anxiety starting to consume you again. “O-Okay.”

Jungkook seemed to notice the nervousness in the tone of your voice as he looked at you, but he didn’t say anything. You two walked towards a nearby bench outside the building and sat down. It was chilly and you could see the wind blowing his hair nicely, making him look straight out of a movie scene.

“Thanks… for the boba.” You said, a little nervous.

“Chaewon kinda gave me an offer again…”

“Oh.” You said, avoiding his eyes. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know I’m still thinking about it.”

“I see.” You said, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic about it.

“She said you don’t wanna be involved anymore though.” He stopped walking. “Did I do something wrong??? If it’s about what happened last time I’m terribly sorry…”

“No! Jungkook, you’re not the one who should be apologizing here!” You sighed.

“Why?”

You couldn’t find yourself to explain further. “You should just say yes, it literally means no harm.”

“But why don’t you wanna help out anymore?!”

One thing about Jungkook was that he sure was one hell of a hard headed man.

“I just have more stuff I need to handle outside work and I don’t have the time.” You lied.

Jungkook looked at you with doubt but nodded anyway. “But we’re okay though, right?”

The big round eyeballs were looking at you, as if pleading. Who would say no to that.

At this point you were sure there was something wrong with you.

You knew Jungkook had to come today for some extra footages. That was why you were trying your hardest to not leave your room and made yourself look busy. Hoseok seemed to notice your weird behavior but this time the man said nothing and let you be.

You managed to avoid your friend for an insufferable few hours, until you had to go to relieve yourself. You saw Chaewon and Jimin first, but then the person who you were suppose to avoid popped out from the restroom, seemingly just done changing back to his own clothes.

Your eyes met immediately and of course his first reaction was to flash you the brightest smile he could. You could tell there was a hint of awkwardness in it, but you didn’t want to further ponder on it.

You waved back timidly, hurrying yourself to the toilet. You even spent a good ten minutes there, hoping they’d leave, but when you were done, Chaewon and Jungkook were still chatting in front.

Chaewon smiled in defeat and grabbed you by your arm. “I just got rejected.”

You widened your eyes and instantly jerked your head towards your friend. The guy only smiled in return.

“Guess you guys are really a bundle, huh? Maybe I should consider asking our tech support guy.” She chuckled.

“Why don’t you just date for real? I could introduce you to some guys.” Jungkook said.

“No, not right now at least.” She giggled. “Too bad, you can’t help me anymore, it’s not exactly easy to find people who would just agree to this.”

“Really?” Jungkook voiced. “I thought you’ve done this before.”

“Why do you think I even paid your friend here just so you could say yes?” She laughed, not knowing the information she had just revealed.

“Oh, you also got paid?”

“Excuse me, if you guys don’t mind I still got work left undone.”

Without looking back you quickly escaped the scene and half-ran to your room. Neither of them came looking for you afterwards so you assumed you were at least safe for the day.

That was again until you saw a certain Bambi eyed, boba ball looking man waiting for you at the front entrance.

“You finished early today.” He waved. “Wanna get some corndog? I—“

“Jungkook, why aren’t you mad at me?”

The guy looked at you for a second before speaking. “Why should I be angry at you again?”

You sighed. “I got paid without you knowing. I basically sold you.” You looked away, trying to control your emotion.

You heard his sigh and his shoulders drooped as he walked closer to you. “No, you didn’t. I also got paid and I enjoyed doing the job.”

“If you enjoyed it then what’s the difference if I’m involved or not? I’m sure you don’t need my help.”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He took a last sip of the drink in his hand before setting it aside. “I only agreed just so I can spend time with you more, dummy.”

You were lost of words.

“I thought having a crush on you was a phase but it turns out I really do like you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh dear, I hope I’m not making this weird for you.” He chuckled nervously.

Your mouth went slightly ajar as you froze in place. Jungkook liked you?

“I’m sorry again for that day. I tried to kiss you, it was weird and you seemed really scared. I still can’t get that image out of my head.” Seeing you being all silent he started to panic. “Say something… please.”

You were still processing the whole thing. First thing your friend having feelings for you, second being you seemingly discovering that you were not opposed to the idea and your heart was beating so fast it could explode in any moment. So the weird feeling you had been feeling the past few days, weeks even, was something after all.

You looked up at him, eyes almost teary. “Hold on let me process this.”

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to say anything back! I’m just gonna go—“

“I like you too.” You shyly smiled.

“Oh.” The guy’s cheeks turned pink as he giddily smiled back. “That’s nice…”

“Uh huh.” You giggled.

“So, wanna hold hands?” He looked away as he offered his hand to you.

You expected him to be more on the confident playboy type now, guess you were wrong. Guess the same boy you knew still existed.

You smiled, cheeks turning red as well as you took his hand. “You are such a nerd.”

Both of you walked hand in hand that night, feeling all warm inside despite the cold night air.

Thank you for reading! 📸

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook

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bluesidez · 1 year ago

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The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment.

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together.

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines.

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly.

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point.

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous.

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment.

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance.

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was.

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of.

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did.

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired.

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long.

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top.

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers.

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response.

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse.

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple.

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend.

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband.

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you.

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk.

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back.

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.”

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record.

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going.

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window.

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt.

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere.

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold.

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot.

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present.

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest.

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces.

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you.

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful.

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads.

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.”

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic.

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco.

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours.

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera.

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk.

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking.

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat.

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face.

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours.

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap.

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec.

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth.

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap.

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump.

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face.

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way.

He also never lets the husband thing go.

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament.

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine.

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Blue ♡

#love lab fics 🧫#husband jeans 👖#The Trendy Couple 💟#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #spider man 2099 #nerdy?miguel idk #soft miggy 🥺#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

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Can you wright a Ni-ki fanfic where him and reader have a (just a regular) (or or maybe even slightly heated) make out sesh ???

“kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️

⟢ pairing 西村力 x fem!reader ⟢ contains shy and flirty kissing, wandering hands, mentions of body image ⟢ 𝟔𝟗𝟖 words 📍 now playing … 🕸️

One day, you decided to go clothes shopping with your boyfriend Riki, trying on a few pieces for him in the mall dressing room to make sure you were on the right track. It’s not like you needed any new clothes… you simply just wanted your wardrobe to match more of what Riki wore.

“Turn around,” you told your boyfriend in a demanding yet sing-singy voice, cautiously taking off your shirt as you observed the way he buried his face in his delicate palms, “and no peeking!”

When you finally gave him the cue to uncover his eyes, he looked you up and down with a smile ghosting over his plush lips.

“What do you think?” You asked, striking a few basic poses.

He couldn’t help but blush a little at how cute you looked while checking yourself out in the mirror. You and Riki had came a long way with each other when it came to self confidence, and it delighted him to see how comfortable you’d grown with yourself in front of him.

“Can you come a little closer,” he said, motioning with his fingers as you followed like a trained kitten.

“Okay, now give me a spin…” he directed, and you did, nearly falling over as you did so, “like this?” you asked shyly.

“No, the other way, silly,” he giggled, hooking his finger into the belt hook of your jeans and pulling you into his lap, bracing you with a protective hand as you plopped onto him.

“Like this,” he smirked, gripping your waist as he looked into your eyes through feathery lashes, thoroughly enthralled by you.

Your hands almost naturally found themselves at his shoulders, your socked-feet dangling off the dressing room couch as you clung to each other like puzzle pieces.

“So the outfits a win, yes?” You asked as he caressed your waist, hips, and thighs, sending tingles up and down your spine. In moments like this, you were almost certain that Riki could make you physically melt from his touch alone.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” he whispered deeply against the skin under your ear, kissing you softly and leaving another trail of tender pecks down your neck.

“Riki~,” you hummed gently, hands running through your boyfriends hair before he shushed you with a kiss to the lips, guiding you closer towards him by your waist.

You could feel your stomach start to flutter at how passionately he kissed you, wanting the moment to continue before he abruptly pulled away from you, his plump lips and half-lidded eyes clearly telling of how intense the contact was.

“My pretty girl,” he said, hands now leaving your body to cup your face, “you know that I think you look beautiful in anything, right?”

“Anything?,” you teased, toying with the neckline of his cotton T-shirt.

“Anything,” your boyfriend continued, reaching his hand towards your ankles, “Even in these dirty pink socks,” he giggled, tickling the base of your feet.

“Riki, you crazy child, stop that!” You yelped in a similar fit of giggles, swatting his hands away before guiding them back around you, initiating a hug. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, almost forgetting that you two were still in the changing rooms and not at home.

He guided you off of his lap, walking you towards the tall wall mirror with his hands wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your left shoulder as you both faced your reflections.

“Where’d this sudden sense of confidence come from anyway,” you pressed, a small smile staining both your faces as you looked at the mirror, lost in each other’s beauty.

“I guess it kinda just radiated off of you,” he said, once again tugging at the belt hooks on your jeans, thinking of all the places he’d wanna take you to show off your new clothes.

You bowed your head, hiding your face at Riki’s words that nearly lit your heart ablaze, “Okay, let me change out of this so we can go to the register,” you chirped, watching as your sweet boyfriend, like a trained kitten, walked back to the corner of the dressing room and covered his eyes.

—❊ Special thanks to the anon who requesting this quick piece !! I hope you guys found it just as cute as I did =^..^=

—❊ tagging: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s , because I know how much she loves likes Ri-ki 🤭 And to me fellow OG supporters, @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @ashgonedash, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy + @watamotee33

—❊ I haven’t come up with a permanent tag list yet, so leave an ask or comment letting me know if you’d like to be tagged in all my works moving forward !!

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roxanne193018 · 5 months ago

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A part 3 of Lucifer’s implied (?) yandere stuffs ( i guess it’s not so implied anymore)

⚠️

Warning: spoilers Christmas event story and Lucifer (blow)

Here he is, yapping about his brothers again (not that I complain tho)

This dude. Everyone says he talks very little that Paradise Lost gang even blushed at his words every time he speaks bc apparently he rarely speaks. But bro is a YAPPER. A huge YAPPER when it comes to MC. (Like how most of us just yap all things to our love) from background conversations, to chats, to stories, if one sentence was enough to make the PL gang blush, then with the amount he says to MC, PL gang would orgasm till they faint.

Also, when MC said “oh, you are busy, why bother texting me?” He was like

“??Bc I’m a doctor, and I often check up on my patients,

But also bc I like you.

Gamigin almost form lifelong friendship with his patients! We doctors are dedicated…I am not that dedicated tho,

But I also have to check on you bc you are important to me.

I can ask everyone instead to know if you’re ill or not,

But I want to ask you directly tho.

Everyone is interested in you, ao I can ask everyone about you

But I’m also interested in you”

… very roundabout way of saying I am literally loving you, and you are important to me, and why are you pretending not to see it? Conflicting ahh birb

… notice him guys.

In the story, he actually keeps his “doctor profession”, by not touching his patient, (believe it or not). He wants to lick MC’s tears so bad, wants to be nice to her, wants to cherish it as lovers’ s*xy time and not a type of treatment, but he couldn’t bc everything he did then was to cure MC. So, he refrained himself from licking MC’s tears and kissing MC’s face. Meh, weird way for a doctors’ safe distance from patient, but that’ll do ig…

Again, he losts it at every card when MC said she likes doing this with him. Their relationship, feels kinda like situasionship smh haha. Both kept their cools, but loses their shjt when the other do lovers’ things to them.

He caters to MC’s liking to cure her, but in the end, he himself can’t keep his words of “not touching the patient”, and still kisses MC. As MC no longer has Christmas cold, she still clings to Lucifer for sexy time lol, bc it’s rare to spend time with him, and he knows, he thinks the same and doesn’t do allat doctor patient game anymo, just lovers’ stuffs from then on lmao.

Shows how MC makes him always loses his shjt, and he admits it fr 🤣

And finally, I still save the best for last.

So for context: he is texting MC to ask like “what type of magical possay you got, that this toy still have your love liquid on it after DAYS?”

… well look at that, you hypocrite lil shjt. I remember SOMEONE told Belphegor that him keeping the blanket that him and MC rolled on is unhygienic. And now you kept that toy UNWASHED on your office table for days, in the room that bans everyone from entering. If he washed it, he wouldn’t ask MC why it was still wet bc it would be cleanly dried long ago.

“At first, it vibrated with your smell” okay.. you kept that thing to occasionally sniff MC out? On God… like I said. He might be crazy like Asmo.

Next, he was FURIOUS, when he noticed that the candy cane reeks of other devils’ smells. (Apparently the Paradise Lost gang has used that to m*st*rb*t* lol) bc 1, he places it privately in his own office, a place no one dares to enter, and now they are doing IT in his no no office zone, and 2, it no longer entirely smells like MC, so he just decides to lock the entire PL gang up to punish 🤣🤣 and won’t let MC meet them for a good while. (Jealous boi)

Another thing I am wondering is that, it is canon that he gets hard every time he bumps into/ remembers/ sees MC (MC-sexual lol). The inclusion of the MC smelled candy cane in his office? Yeah… it will DEFINITELY make that man go absolute FERAL.

I realized how I over analyzing everything when it comes to Luci lmao. Probably mostly bc he has IMPLIED shjjj compared to Leviathan, who just literally smacks the heck outta MC if she makes him jealous, much easier to see.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer

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cobaltperun · 1 year ago

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Blind Love

Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top female Reader (smut, minors DO NOT interact)

So... edging, blindfold, fingering, vibrator, squirting, light spanking, strap-on.

Right, the third in Lost smut chapters, Lost 29.5.

Story masterlist

Word count: 4.5k

It’s been too long since you and Tara had a night just to yourselves, free of any responsibility, whether it was work or your family. And all you could feel, as the credits of the movie rolled, was Tara. Her weight on your lap, her back pressed against you, her skin hot underneath the brown sheer shirt she changed into and that damn perfume she put on that always drove you crazy. All these years and she still drove you mad

“Damn, Tara,” you sighed, leaning your head back a bit.

“Did I get you worked up?” she teased prompting you to just nod. “Good,” she reached behind and placed her right palm on the nape of your neck and pulled you closer, her nails ever so slightly scratching against your skin. She twisted around just enough to kiss your neck and you took a deep breath and exhaled as her soft lips moved from the side of your neck, up to your jaw and finally met your lips.

You could taste the pancakes she just ate on her tongue as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving against your own. She moaned into the kiss as you slipped your hand underneath her shirt and just moved your fingers along her back. She separated from you, breathing a bit heavier than she normally did as her eyes met yours and she turned around, straddling your lap and the warmth of her body making your mind hazy.

“Fuck,” she whispered as you pulled her closer and pressed her body against your own, rocking her hips against you and biting her lower lip. “I missed this so much,” she said as she pulled back, and you clearly saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Say, do we really need that much sleep to function tomorrow?” she whispered in your ear, biting gently and sliding her hands underneath the sleeves of your T-shirt. “Hmm?” she squeezed, sighing contently as you lifted her up forcing your muscles to bulge a bit.

“We’ll manage somehow,” you said as you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. Tara definitely had something in mind and, well, you weren’t about to turn her down. You opened the doors, lowered her down on the bed and kissed her, though softly this time. Tara kissed you back, slowing the kiss down even more, as the two of you just softly moved your lips in a well-practiced, sensual manner. You teased her, brushing your lips against her own, pulling back just enough to keep the same distance as she moved closer, until she slipped her fingers into your hair and stopped you from moving. But the kiss remained soft, just gently moving lips against one another, occasionally licking or nibbling on your lower lip. Her hands moved down as you separated for air briefly, and she pressed against your back, pulling you closer as you rested your weight on your forearm next to Tara’s head, while your right arm went from her hip and slid up her side until you lightly teased a thumb over her breast, just narrowly avoiding her nipple.

“Blindfold me,” she purred in your ear once the two of you reluctantly separated for air and your brain nearly short-circuited. You tried to use the blindfold once before, but being deprived of sight made Tara even more responsive and you couldn’t risk her getting too loud. But now you had the house to yourselves, so there weren’t any reasons not to let Tara be as loud as she desired.

So, you grinned, got up and unlocked the drawer next to your bed with everything you might want to use inside it. For now, and to keep Tara guessing, you just pulled out the blindfold and looked at Tara’s lust-filled eyes one more time before tying the blindfold around her eyes. “There we go,” you whispered in her ear and smirked when she shuddered. You loved looking into her eyes as she fell apart for you, but damn, judging by how well she was already reacting you were in for a fun night. “Think you can handle this, Love?” you whispered in her other ear and leaned down to kiss her neck. “Never knowing where I’ll touch you next?” and to prove your point you slipped your hand underneath her knee and slid it back up to her ass. Tara inhaled sharply as you nuzzled against her stomach, kissing her over the shirt she still had on and then went back up to lick her neck.

Everything was even more intense than usual, the anticipation, your touch, every part of her body felt even more sensitive now that she was robbed of her sight. “Yes, Daddy,” she moaned, gripping the hem of your shirt and pulling it up along with your bra. Fuck, she felt your muscles underneath her palms, still hard as rock even years after you retired from MMA.

“So damn impatient,” you still gave in to her whim, raising your arms and letting her pull it off you and then you took her hands and gently guided them to your belt. “There you go, Love, take your time,” you were going to make it as difficult as you could, without being too mean. Her fingers trembled as you licked from the side of her neck all the way to her ear, as your own hands explored her body. You still weren’t taking her clothes off, but you slowly moved your hands all over her body, from her sides, to her thighs, and maybe, just maybe, for a brief moment between her legs.

Finally, Tara managed to get your belt off, but instead of continuing to take your clothes off she just pulled her own shirt and bra off, and with the belt still in her hands raised them above her hands. “Tie me up, Daddy,” she purred softly.

“Kinky,” you loved the way she shivered as you moved your hands up her arms and took the belt to tie it around her wrist. It was more just for the looks, and she could easily slip her wrists out of the ‘bind’ if she so pleased. You groaned when you realized how hard her nipples already were and leaned down to flick one with your tongue.

“Oh,” Tara moaned, caught by surprise. She arched her back, lips parting as your warm, wet tongue swirled around her nipple before you released it with a pop.

“What do you want? Hmm, Love?” you moved up, leaving butterfly kisses along her skin until you reached her lips. “You want me to worship you?” you caressed her cheek, softly kissing her over the blindfold. You tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, knowing full well how disheveled she would be by the end of the night.

“Yes!” she cried out, moving her head to try and find your lips, to try and get you to kiss her.

“Keep talking,” as much as it affected you as well, you denied her the kiss and instead took her jeans off, leaving her only in her panties. Tara whined when you stopped touching her and you just smirked, opening the drawer once again.

You stopped touching her, but she definitely heard the drawer closing and her body tingled in anticipation. “You’re,” she tried to talk as you returned to her side. “I want you to take care of me,” her pussy throbbed, empty and needy for your touch, and she could feel her panties sticking to her bare skin. “To, oh fuck,” she felt you slip a bullet vibrator into her panties, on the lowest setting. It felt much more intense now that she was blindfolded, it felt like every vibration was sending jolts of pleasure from her pussy to her lust-filled brain.

“Yes?” she felt your breath hitting her stomach as you pulled your hand out of her panties. She heard you opening a bottle and was suddenly hit by the soft scent of lavender. “You want me to take care of you?” she felt the cool liquid drop onto her stomach, then down to her thigs, a few drops sliding down to her inner thighs, and then you made it drip all over her breasts, hitting her hard nipples, and only then did she hear you closing the bottle. You rubbed massage oil into her skin, just rubbing all over her body to get the massage oil everywhere and then you began massaging her properly, starting from just beneath her neck. Fuck, she needed this, she needed you to give her a massage and fuck her at the same time, to release all the tension in her body while bringing her to the heights of pleasure she could only reach with you.

“Yes!” you gave the back of her raised thigh a soft smack. “Yes Daddy!” she corrected her mistake, breathing heavily as you kept your right hand on her thigh and massaged it slowly, but deeply. She wanted you to spank her again, to make her ass sting just for a bit, because she knew you’d just take care of her.

“What else?” you asked kissing underneath her breast, grazing her sensitive skin with your teeth. Your left hand kept moving along her upper body, massaging the oil into her arms, her shoulders, her side, anywhere you could comfortably reach while your right hand slipped underneath her knee then up the back of her thighs to her panties. “Want me to spank you again, Tara?”

She swallowed hard at your tone, the warning, the complete control over her. “Yes!” she purposely left out ‘Daddy’ hoping to entice you to do it even further.

“Mhm, soon,” you squeezed her ass, rubbing the oil in and moving your fingers along her crack, just stopping for a moment when you reached her hole. Just lightly pushing the tip against it as if you were going to put a finger in. You did that every now and then, teasing yet never actually putting it in, just the way Tara loved it, she loved how you teased her, only ever going as far as she wanted you to, despite you being the one in control. You were in control but you did it all with her pleasure in mind, she cried out, rolling her hips against you and mistakenly pushing the vibrator closer to her throbbing clit.

She bit her lower lip, trying to hide her moans and sneak an orgasm in, just to piss you off, just to make you lose control and ravage her without mercy. To make you pound her so hard the bed would start shaking, so hard she would feel it in her entire body, and it would feel magnificent. “I want to,” she remembered your question, her mind almost too focused on you switching hands and moving your left hand down to her thighs while your right hand massaged the bits of her skin you couldn’t reach with your left hand before. “To be your good girl,” she whimpered, feeling you smirk as you finally pulled her painfully hard nipple into your mouth, soothing it and ever so slightly grazing it with your teeth before circling it with your tongue.

“My good girl? You sure about that?” you tilted her chin up and bit her neck.

“Yes, yes Daddy. Your good girl!” she gasped, feeling her orgasm approaching, you didn’t let her cum, you didn’t tell her she could, and her mind was in between those two sides. One wanting to make you lose control, the other needing your permission. And the first one was winning as she pressed her thighs together, right there, just a bit more, and then you turned the vibrator off making her go stiff under your body. You noticed and only one thought crossed her mind. ‘Oh fuck,’ and it was the most excited she’s been in a long time.

“Really now? You thought you were sneaky, hmm?” she could feel your smirk as you pulled her in for a kiss and slipped a tongue inside her mouth. “When do you get to cum?” you asked, your tone so dangerously low it nearly brought her right back to the edge again, and you whispered it right in her ear, knowing full well how weak she was to your voice. And then you went and lightly bit her lower lip.

“When you let me,” she grasped the sheets desperate for something to hold on to as she calmed down from her almost orgasm. She bit her lip much harsher than you did, pulling it between her teeth and furrowing her brows as your thumb rubbed her clit over her panties. She felt you sigh softly against her neck, and she knew your eyes softened as you reached up and gave her your hand to grab on to.

“My good girl,” you whispered gently as she grabbed your hand as if her life depended on it and you slowly rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb. “How close were you?”

“A nine,” she gasped, she was just on the edge.

“Let’s keep you there, hm?” you turned the vibrator back on and slipped a hand into her panties, rubbing her pussy while keeping the vibrator pressed beneath her clit. Fuck, you were finally touching her! Finally, she felt your fingers spreading her lips and slipping between them, never penetrating her or touching her clit but constantly teasing her.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, trembling as you just kept her at the edge, pulling away every now and then to keep her from cumming, all the while kissing any part of her skin you could get your mouth on without moving your hand from her grasp. And your hand, the one she was holding, it was her anchor, keeping her grounded despite all the sensations she was feeling.

“That’s it, Tara,” you groaned as you pushed the tip of your finger into her pussy. You didn’t move it, instead just keeping it in and taking deep breaths as she clenched around it. You were affected by this as much as she was, as she felt tears soaking her blindfold. It was too much and not enough at the same time as she spread her legs as wide as she could and rocked her hips against your hand, swallowing more of your finger with her pussy.

It wasn’t the first time Tara cried when the two of you got this intense, but your heart still skipped a beat every time you saw her tears. She was just feeling everything so intensely, but you needed to make sure. “Are you okay, Love?” you pressed your forehead against her own, slowing down and letting her manage what she was feeling.

“Mhm, just feels intense, Y/N, feels so good,” she captured your lips quickly, just to let you know she was completely okay with this, that she was loving it, and that she was just feeling so much at the same time.

“I’m right here,” you whispered so softly, your voice filled with so much love for her as you, now reassured that she was fine, continued teasing her.

“Daddy,” she nearly sobbed when you slowed down again and tantalizingly slowly pulled your finger out of her then dragged the vibrator down from her swollen clit. “No, please, don’t stop,” she sobbed this time, her fingers cramping around your hand. And then she felt it, the vibrator circling around her asshole. She inhaled sharply, her entire body going still as you just teased her, even lighter than you did with your finger, and she loved it. “Fuck!” she cried out, again right on the verge or cumming and she knew it would be huge. The pressure in her guts, the pleasure you’ve been building up for what felt like eternity and your soft sighs, filled with want against the skin of her neck.

“Kiss me, please,” she parted her lips, no longer sure or how long you’ve been teasing her like this, keeping her just on the brink of an orgasm, how long she’s been clinging to your hand, or for how long she felt your firm body against her own. All she knew was that her entire body tingled with desire, that her empty pussy throbbed to be fucked. And you kissed her, just briefly because she couldn’t help but moan, her need to cum getting even stronger.

“Hold it just a bit more, okay? My good girl,” you peppered kisses along her jaw and moved the vibrator back to her pussy and switched it all the way to highest setting.

“Daddy, I can’t! I have to-“ her pussy was too sensitive, she couldn’t stop, or even slow down her orgasm. “Please, please,” she repeated, each time blurting it out a bit less coherently.

“You can cum,” you sucked harshly on her neck, and at the same time pushed the vibrator against her clit and began fingering her properly, the two of your fingers rapidly pumping into her, each time stimulating her g spot. Tara threw her head back and screamed, her entire body pressing against you as her pussy gushed, squirting all over you despite her panties still being on, soaking your hand and her panties and thighs, and more than likely sheets and your pants as well.

“Keep going!” she cried out, consumed by the feeling of a series of small orgasms hitting her and making her mind blank for a bit. She let go of your hands, slipped her arms out of the belt and hugged you close pushing your face into the crook of her neck as she continued squirting. “Y/N!” she wailed, feeling as if her entire body was convulsing. She couldn’t stop it, she twisted her body, shaking and squeezing your hand between her thighs as her pussy clamped around your fingers. She was too sensitive, but she wanted you to keep going. “More!” she demanded, feeling blood rushing to her head as the wet sound of your fingers pumping inside her and the buzzing of the vibrator drove her mad. Desperate, she twisted her body until she way lying on her side, her hands dug into your hair, scratched your back, your shoulders, arms, anything she could touch, she felt tremors all over her body, the pleasure washing over her pushing her to her limits. The aftershocks of being pushed to her limit continued, and she was sure she had drawn blood with how hard her fingers scraped against your back. And only then, just before it became too much you sensed it and slowed down, bringing her down from her high slowly. And only when all of those sensations began slowing down, was she able to settle down and release your hand stuck between her thighs.

All the while you just peppered her with kisses and pet her hair. “Easy, Love, I’ve got you,” you hummed, reaching for the blindfold. “You did so well for me,” you praised her and her pussy, despite what she just experienced throbbed again. She grabbed your wrist, her hands shaky and grip weak, but it was enough to make you stop and not take the blindfold off.

“I just need a short break,” she gasped, not yet ready to call it a night. It’s been so long since she could be loud, since she could cum without worrying about how loud she was being, and she knew you were aware of that as well.

You brushed the tears from her cheeks, your touch now softer than silk and she swallowed hard, melting at the display of tenderness. “Okay, let me bring you something,” you kissed her forehead and gently pushed the hair sticking to her face away. “Give me two minutes, okay?”

Tara just nodded, missing your warmth immediately and despite her entire body feeling as if it was on fire as you stepped away from her and left the bedroom. Still, she relaxed, focusing on her breathing, and moving until she was lying on your side of the bed. It was a small miracle that she could still figure out which side of the bed she was on, but your scent comforted her while you were downstairs. You were probably fetching water, and maybe a snack for her.

“Y/N,” she moaned, hoping you would come back already, and sure enough, half a minute later you slipped back into the room and went to the closet. The next thing Tara felt was a kiss to her cheek and your arms pulling her onto your lap with her back pressed against you, much like she was before you two came to the bedroom and you fucked her into this state. You were cradling her, gently petting her and showering her in affection.

“Drink, Love,” you guided a straw into her open mouth, since she still had the blindfold on, and she greedily slurped on the cold water. It cooled her down, and more importantly made up for the damn near insane amount of liquid she lost through various means. While she drank you used a towel to wipe some of her cum of her thighs. You even took her panties off and cleaned her pussy a bit as well, just enough to make her comfortable once more and then you just held her close, peppered her with small kisses and kept your arms protectively around her stomach.

“Was I your good girl?” she whispered, leaning her head back and burying her face in your neck. She needed you to praise her, to tell her she pleased you with how well she took everything you had given her.

“You were,” you assured her, running your fingers thought her hair and making her melt even further into your touch. “You make me so happy, Tara,” your thumb brushed against her lips, and she pulled up, kissing you softly.

Oh, to be loved like this. She yearned for it so much before you got together, and she still couldn’t believe how lucky she got. The scent of a strawberry made her sigh dreamily and she opened her mouth as you slipped a chocolate covered fruit into her mouth. You kept putting strawberries in her mouth and she turned around, straddling you and placing her palms on your shoulders. Though still blind she used her hands, touching the sides of your face, up to your hair, then to your neck and back to the shoulders. “I’m ready for you again,” she leaned her forehead against yours, experimentally grinding her pussy and still throbbing clit against your abs.

“I’ll be gentle,” you assured her and slipped two fingers into her, just working her up again and stretching her for the strap.

“What about spanking?” she couldn’t help it, she was feeling greedy, she wanted to feel that soft sting, she wanted to feel just how much control you had over your strength.

You paused, lowering your hand to her ass, and giving her a tiny smack on her left side. “We don’t have to,” you assured her so softly she almost changed her mind.

“I want you to spank me, ten times, please Daddy,” she pleaded, hearing you sigh and immediately biting your neck to ground herself.

You didn’t mind spanking her, you just wanted to make sure she could take it right now. But, she asked you to do it, and besides, she could stop you at any moment. So, without further waiting you smacked her ass lightly, enough for Tara to feel it, but not yet enough to sting.

“Harder,” she pleaded through her teeth, and you did just what she asked, spanking her just a bit harder twice in quick succession. “Yes!” she was grinding her once again empty pussy against your abs, while making sure her clit was constantly rubbing against the hard muscles. “Again!” she pleaded, and from the looks of it you found the sweet spot, just hard enough for Tara to enjoy it, yet not nearly as painful as it could be.

Tara knew you could spank her harder, it hardly hurt, instead it let more like a joking slap on her ass than anything else, and she was perfectly fine with that. You spanked her three more times and she moaned, feeling like her grinding and everything you were doing was once again bringing her sensitive body closer to the edge. Her clit, her nipples, every sensitive spot on her body was pressing against you, against your firm, muscular body. And she let out a guttural moan as you gave her the last four spanks and made her stop grinding on you. And she knew exactly what was coming as you moved her, so she was lying on the bed.

You promised you’d be gentle, and that was exactly what you were going to do, you put the strap on, got between Tara’s legs and gently pushed in, captivated by the sound of her moans and her wet pussy taking your strap. You leaned down, hugging her and lifting her body up a bit as you went with slow, deep thrusts.

“Y/N,” Tara moaned, digging her nails into your back and scratching lightly. Her entire body was tangled up with yours as she used what little strength she had left to wrap her legs around you as well, both to keep you as close as she possibly could, as well as to feel you even deeper inside. Her soft moans, directly into your ear, made you lower your hand, just to stimulate her clit for a bit longer.

You were lost in her, close to your own orgasm. Tara’s moans, her face while you were teasing her, her body glistening from the intense activity you just went through, it was enough to bring you to the edge, and this was just the final drop.

She hated to admit it, she wanted this to last longer, to make all of this last just a bit longer, to prolong feeling your muscles tensing and flexing under her touch. To prolong feeling full, but she couldn’t, her body couldn’t keep up and she came again, and to her relief she heard your own moan, a rare occasion of you moaning in desperation made her pussy gush just a bit more. And with that she was spent, satisfied and needed sleep. And she took her blindfold off, blinking to adjust to light once again, but she still smiled and reached up to caress your cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” you pulled out of her, and she just sighed, content, in need of a quick shower or a bath, and then lots of sleep.

A/N: Are you happy anon that asked for "spicy" moments? 🤣🤣

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Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #bottom tara carpenter #top reader #x reader #x female reader

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 month ago

Text

Dangerous Dreams

Written for round 1 of the @steddiebingo and for week 1 of @steddiesportsau

Prompts: Hurt/Comfort | Olympic Sports

Words: 2,023 [also on AO3]

Rated: T

Tags: Figure skater Eddie; Coach Steve; Past Stancy; Injury; Sexual tension

Notes: Prequel to this one

It’s long past dark by the time Steve walks Nancy to her car. They're the last ones to leave the rink as usual, all of the other athletes and coaches long gone. Some things never change, he guesses.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she says, eyeing the bag with her clothes and skates that he has slung over one shoulder. “People will jump to conclusions if they see us together like this.”

Steve huffs, opening the trunk and throwing the bag inside.

“Like what, that we’re dating again? I’m your coach, aren’t I? I’m allowed to look after my athletes.”

She shrugs, playing with a strand that has escaped from the updo she has thrown her hair into for practice.

“That’s not how the tabloids are going to see it and you know it.”

“Yeah, well,” he smiles drily. “Let them think what they want. I don’t care about their opinion.”

She raises her brows at him, fumbling in her jacket pocket for her keys.

“Oh, yes? What about the opinion of a certain loud-mouthed, curly-haired figure skating prodigy?”

He sputters.

“I don't- … What? No! He's a pain in the- I mean … who are you even talking about?”

As she slides into the driver's seat, she gives him a look.

“You know exactly who I'm talking about. And I suggest you get it sorted out before the Olympics, one way or another. We'll all need a clear head for the competitions.”

Steve watches her tail lights grow smaller, wondering how she still manages to see right through him. It's another thing that'll never change, he guesses.

If he decides to do a final round of the premises before going home, it's solely to make sure all of the doors are locked, and not because he needs to clear his head. The rink lies in darkness, bar for the neon lights over the emergency exits that never go out. It makes the ice glitter invitingly, and before he knows it, he is standing at its edge, clutching the banister.

He knows he shouldn't.

There's nobody around to help him if he falls. It's crazy and stupid and reckless, and he should know better.

But the white, glistening surface is whispering his name, and his muscles are aching for the familiar movements and his blood is longing for the thrill of the speed and the spins and the leaps.

He'll only do a few rounds.

The blades glide over the ice like an extension of his legs, the rest of his limbs flowing into movement on muscle memory alone. He skates along the outer barrier of the rink in a wide circle, then another, picking up speed as he gets more confident and the initial tension leaves him.

He's been missing this.

It feels like coming home.

He turns, gliding backwards for a few yards, then twists again, lifting the bad leg off the ground and extending it behind himself in an elegant arch, using the momentum of it to spin into a slow spiral. It's nothing like what he used to be able to do, nowhere close to the routine that was supposed to win him his third gold medal, but with the empty hall blurring out of focus and the rush of speed in his veins, it's easy to remember. The spotlights shining down on him, bright and hot. The murmur of the crowd in the stands disappearing under the music blasting from the speakers. A hundred cameras gleaming and flashing all around him, every single one trained on him as the world watches him defy gravity, holding its breath as he prepares to leap.

He jumps.

It feels like flying, like soaring. Like coming home.

And then gravity sets back in and all he remembers is pain.

He knows that it'll go wrong the second his blade connects with the ice, just like he knew four years ago. His ankle gives out like a twig, pain zapping all the way into his teeth. He tries to control the fall as he goes down, bringing up his arms to protect his head, angling himself so that he won't crush the bad leg with his own weight. And then his hip hits the ice and everything turns into a blur of pain.

Even after the world stops spinning, he keeps lying with his arms shielding his face, waiting for ringing in his ears to die down and for the sting behind his eyelids to go away.

It's easy to remember.

The music grinding to a stop. The alarmed murmurs picking up from the stands. Nancy and their coach rushing to his side, frantically calling for the medics. The goddamn cameras still running, eager for a glimpse of his pain and humiliation as the double gold medal winner lay in a crumpled heap on the ice.

He's an idiot. He should've known better than to try again. At least, this time, there's nobody around to see him.

“Shit, man. Are you alright?”

Steve freezes. Suddenly, he's hyper-aware of every tiny detail of his surroundings. The cold of the rink bleeding into his back. The heat of his own sweat drying on his skin. The burning pain in his ankle and hip and shoulders where he tumbled over the ice. When he drops his arm from his face, his vision is still blurry, but it doesn’t matter. He'd know those stupid, expressive doe eyes looking down on him everywhere.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he croaks, sitting up and running a trembling hand through his hair to check for head injuries.

“Arriving just in time to watch you eat dirt, apparently,” Eddie says. “Or ice. No need to thank me. I'm also glad I'm around to make sure you don't bleed out or choke on your own tongue, or- hey, careful now.”

Steve, who is just hoisting himself upright, clinging to the banister for support, swats off the hand that reaches out to steady him.

“Leave me alone, I don't need your- ah, fuck.”

The twisted ankle gives out the second he tries to put weight on it, and Steve grits his teeth through the fresh surge of pain. By the time the white lights bursting across his vision fade, Eddie’s hand is on his elbow again.

“Sure you don't, big boy. Now c'mon, let's get you looked at.”

This time, Steve doesn’t protest as Eddie guides him off the ice.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, once they have made it to his office - Steve's arm slung over Eddie's shoulder - and he's safely seated in his desk chair.

Eddie, who has his back turned and is rifling through the freezer for an ice pack, shrugs, but Steve sees the way his shoulders go tense.

“Just dropped by to pick up my wallet. Must've left it in the locker room earlier.”

Steve gives him a look. “Your wallet. Really.”

“Yup,” Eddie replies cheerfully. Like Steve can't see the cut-off shirt and skin-tight leggings under his leather jacket. Like Steve won’t notice that he isn’t wearing any of his usual jewelry, except for the delicate ring with the stone - the one he never takes off, not even on the ice. “Now hold still, this is gonna hurt.”

Before Steve can protest or brace himself, he has dropped to his knees and pulled the injured foot into his lap. Steve hisses as nimble fingers push up the hem of his pants, prodding at his ankle.

“Already bruising,” Eddie mutters. His head is bowed, and his hair is in a high ponytail, leaving the long, pale curve of his neck exposed. “Doesn’t look broken to me, but I’m not a doctor. You want me to call Robin or-”

“God, no,” Steve groans. “She’d behead me with my own skates.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and presses the ice pack to the tender, purpling skin. A few seconds pass in silence while Steve curls his fingers into the chair and waits for the worst of the sting to settle.

“It’s not broken,” he finally mutters, when the quiet gets too heavy and oppressive. “I know what a broken ankle feels like, and this is nowhere close.”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just hums - a vague noise that could be anything from agreement to doubt. His fingers graze Steve’s ankle as he adjusts his grip on the ice pack.

“It was a shame that happened,” he says instead. “You were a fucking legend, man. You oughta have won that medal. It was what you deserved.”

Steve feels himself flush. He half expects Eddie to follow the remark with one of his usual quips or jabs, but his eyes are nothing but serious as he looks up. The air in the office seems too thick all of a sudden.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “Life isn't fair, sometimes.”

Eddie smiles sadly.

“I guess it isn't,” he agrees. Then he pauses. Licks his lips. “You ever considered getting back into it?”

“Huh?” Steve, momentarily distracted by the light sheen of moisture on Eddie’s lips, startles. “What, at my age, and with that injury? Forget it. I'll never be able to skate in competitions again, I wouldn't stand a-”

“I wasn't talking about competitions,” Eddie says. “Just … for fun. I dunno, but … that jump? I think that was the happiest I ever saw you just now.”

Steve snorts a humourless laugh, ignoring the painful twang in his chest. “Until I brained myself on the ice, you mean.”

Eddie shrugs. “What's life without a little risk? Playing it safe may keep you from getting hurt, but sometimes you gotta fall before you can fly.”

Steve is just about to ask what motivational poster he pulled that bit of wisdom from when Eddie removes the ice pack and climbs to his feet.

“Now, you need a ride home, or-”

“I can drive,” he blurts, hurriedly suppressing the mental image of himself riding passenger princess-style on that black monster of a motorcycle that Eddie insists on driving. He still accepts the offered hand and allows Eddie to hover by his side as they make their way to the parking lot.

They're almost at the car when Eddie speaks again.

“So … about my routine.”

“No,” Steve says. Eddie groans and throws up his hands.

“I didn't even say what I wanted!”

Steve yanks open the driver's door, throwing himself into the seat and suppressing a wince when his ankle protests.

“I'm taking a wild guess. We've been over this before, Eddie. You're not picking a metal song for an Olympic skating routine.”

Eddie's mouth does the twitchy thing that means he's consciously holding himself back from saying something stupid.

“You said to pick something that speaks to us, so that we can deliver our best possible performance. This speaks to me. I don't understand why-”

“Because,” Steve interrupts him, “it will speak to literally nobody else. “Have you for a second considered what the jury will think?”

There's more on the tip of his tongue. How Eddie is a once-in-a-lifetime talent. How he has seen him do things on those skates he never thought possible. How he'll go on to be far greater than Steve ever was, and could ever have hoped to become, if only he can get that goddamn ego in check.

He doesn't say any of that, though.

“I'm not letting you ruin this for yourself,” is what he does say. “It's too risky, and that's my final word.”

Eddie’s face twitches again. When it settles, his smile is all teeth.

“Of course,” he mutters. “You would know all about risks, wouldn’t you?”

It lands harder than it has any right to and the pain in his ankle, which had only just calmed down, suddenly feels sharp again.

“Eddie, listen,” he says, but Eddie has already turned and is walking towards his motorcycle, which is parked a little way off.

“No need, you've made your point clear. We better both head home. See you tomorrow, coach.”

Steve sits in his dark car long after Eddie has disappeared into the night, thinking about risks and choices and the contempt in those dark, pretty eyes.

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#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's steddie bingo #steddiebingo2025 #steddie sports au event

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dlwritings · 6 months ago

Text

November 6, 2024 | Rafe Cameron

masterlist found here

pairing - Rafe x reader word count - 1,827 warnings - political talk, anti-T*ump rhetoric A/N - Who would've thought the shit show state of our world would inspire me to write again. I know for a lot of us everything feels really broken right now, and I know it may seem silly to some, but for me, writing feels like healing, even if it's just something like this. So here you all are. Rafe probably votes red, but here's a world where he doesn't. Also, if you're a T*umper, go ahead and unfollow me. I can't have any of that in my life. I'm so serious.

summary - The results of the 2024 election hit you pretty hard, and you end up taking your rage out on Rafe. Turns out, Rafe's hopes for the future looked a lot like yours.

You and Rafe didn’t talk about politics. You knew better than to broach the topic with him, because you weren’t naive. One glance at him and anyone could guess how he voted.

But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

The two of you had been dating for about six months, and for the most part, it was smooth sailing. It was gossip fuel for most people on the island for a few weeks -you being a pogue and Rafe being … who he was- but like most drama in Kildaire, it didn’t stay at the forefront of people’s minds for long before another thing came and stole back everyone’s attention.

And the thing on everyone’s mind right now was the election. The election that had you donned in blue on your way to the polls, a huge smile on your face as you filled in the bubble that would make history. Hope filled you in a way you were sure it never had before.

Until the next day.

Waking up and opening social media to see the results had already come in was enough to break your spirit completely. How could this have happened? How could the country have failed so many people?

Then again, how had you been so naive to believe in the possibility of any other outcome?

You shut yourself off from the world for most of the day. You went to work and gave polite smiles and nods to your coworkers as needed, but you did your best to spend the majority of your time locked in your office, alone. You didn’t dare to open social media, knowing every MAGA post from the bigots of the Figure 8 would bring tears to your eyes.

It wasn’t until you were at home on your couch that you decided to brave Instagram. Before scrolling through your feed, you added a black screen with a simple blue heart to your story and wrote the words, When we fight, we win.

You thought it was harmless. A simple story that showed your feelings without being overly dramatic. The last thing you wanted to do was act irrational by doing something crazy like storming the capitol. Because that would just be insane.

Unfortunately, the people who followed you saw it as anything but harmless. They saw it as an opening to send you the most heinous, revolting messages you had ever read. Your notifications blew up within minutes, and some of them were so borderline terrifying that you locked your phone and threw it across the room, once again leaving you in a puddle of tears.

You heard your front door open, and you cursed to yourself. In all the chaos of the news, it escaped your mind that it was Wednesday, and Rafe always brought pizza to your apartment on Wednesdays. You had once mentioned in passing that you liked a pick-me-up halfway through a week, and Rafe took it upon himself to provide you with that. Normally, it was one of your favorite parts of the week. Today, Rafe was one of the last people you wanted to see.

“Babe!” he called out upon his entrance. “I got your favorite!”

You met him in the kitchen, and by one look at your face, Rafe’s own expression dropped. “What’s going on?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat. “I think you should go.”

“What?” he said, dropping the pizza on the counter and walking over to you. With each step he took toward you, you took one step back. He stopped quickly, a frown painted on his face. “What’s wrong, baby?”

The words made something snap inside you, and your fists clenched at your sides. “What’s wrong?” you repeated. “What’s wrong? How about fucking everything, Rafe! Everything’s wrong, and you not seeing that is part of the problem! You are part of the problem!”

Rafe was, in a word, flabbergasted. He ran through the past 24 hours, trying to think of something he had done wrong, but he was coming up short. “Okay, I’m-” He let out an exasperated laugh. “I’m trying to understand, but you’ve got to give me something more here. What did I do?”

“You-” You let out a huff of a breath and ended up speaking through gritted teeth. “You and your stupid fucking MAGA Kook friends voted for a convicted felon to run our country! You voted for a man who wants to throw away my rights. You voted for a man who has raped a multitude of women and brags about it!”

Rafe’s eyes were wide as he held his hands up and shook his head. “Hang on-”

“No, Rafe!” you shouted, pushing him back as he tried to get closer to you again. “For the entire time we’ve dated, I’ve danced around the talk of politics, because I knew better. I knew a rich ass white guy from the south would vote for another rich ass white guy to run our country, but I guess I naively thought it wouldn’t matter. That the poor guys would get a win for fucking once this time. For once I thought the good guys would win and that a white man would have to face the consequences of his actions. But you-” You laughed bitterly. “You of all people know that privileged ass white men never ever have to face the consequences of their actions.”

You were hitting him where it hurt, and you knew it, but you were hurt. You and every woman like you had been holding in years of pain and hurt, and for you and many others, today was the day it was all going to come out.

“Baby, if you just let me-”

“Let you?” you laughed incredulously. “You and your fellow MAGA guys have clearly shown me I don’t have to let you do anything anymore.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it, and shoved it in his face to show him all of the nasty messages you were receiving. Things like, “Your body, my choice,” “whomp whomp go make me a sandwich,” and “Guess what? Men win again” had flooded your DMs, and while you didn’t know it, Rafe was clocking every username and making a very specific list in his head.

“So maybe you can understand why I’m angry, Rafe,” you said, taking the phone back out of his hand and putting it in your pocket again. “I thought I could cancel out your vote, but I guess I forgot that meant you could cancel mine.”

“Ba-”

“I want you to leave, Rafe.”

“But I didn’t-”

“Fucking, go, Rafe!” you shouted. “Let me be angry and let me be alone!”

With a clenched jaw, Rafe gave a short nod. “Okay,” he whispered. “Fine.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but he refrained, instead turning around and heading out the door, leaving you in a mess of tears.

The next day, you called off from work. Maybe it was dramatic, but you didn’t care. You knew if one person even looked at you in a way you didn’t like, you’d lose any composure you had, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job for yelling at your boss.

You had the full intention to stay in bed all day, but the relentless knock at your door around 10AM proved that to be impossible. You felt some sense of relief, knowing it at least wouldn’t be another political petitioner.

Instead, perhaps just as unfortunately, it was Rafe.

You let out a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He held out his hand which had a coffee cup in it from your favorite shop. “I went to your work, but your boss said you were sick,” he said. “I bought you coffee.” You took it, but didn’t say anything -just looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if to say, Anything else? “Can we please talk?” he said.

“I don’t know what there is to say, Rafe,” you sighed. Still, you stepped aside and let him in, not wanting your neighbors to bear witness to whatever argument was about to ensue. “I know we’re different -I’ve always known that- but I don’t think I can handle being this kind of different anymore.” You plopped yourself onto the sofa, expecting Rafe to sit next to you. Instead, he crouched in front of you so he was just slightly looking up at you.

“Baby, I didn’t vote for him.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock, and you felt tears instantly pool in your eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

“Yeah, of course I didn’t vote for him,” he said. He reached up to turn around the hat he was wearing backwards to reveal a Harris-Walz cap, and you let out a noise that was a mix of a gasp and a little laugh. “I know I’ve fucked up before baby,” he said. “And in other elections, yeah, I usually vote red. But this-” He shook his head and squeezed your knees. “This is different. And I know that. And I’d be an absolute moron to think that tax cuts for me are more important than basic rights for you.”

You moved to kneel on the floor next to him and held his face in your hands before leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you kept your forehead against his. “I was so mean to you yesterday,” you whispered. “I didn’t-”

“It wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve,” he said. “I know that I am living in a world that was pretty much tailor made for me. And I know I should be in fucking prison for all the shit I’ve done, and so should he. And I know that none of what I’m saying right now changes the bullshit I’ve done, but I figured I should at least use all this fucking privilege I have and try to help people who don’t have it. Because you-” He paused to press a kiss to your lips. “-have taught me so much about being a good person. And I’m not going to vote against that.”

“I wasn’t a good person yesterday,” you mumbled.

“You were reacting to an unfortunately historic event,” he said. “You had every right to lose it. And you can keep losing it, and I will be by your side for every minute of it, okay?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”

He smiled back and nodded. “Okay.”

You and Rafe decided to spend the rest of the day together, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in the quiet. When you suggested putting on a movie, Rafe agreed. He let you choose, no complaints, and watched as you searched for the Barbie movie. You cried at all the usual parts, sometimes a bit harder than normal, but Rafe understood.

It is literally impossible to be a woman.

----- ----- ----- -----

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unholybacon355 · 7 months ago

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Kinktober Day 20 - Giselle x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Apparently the meeting was going on like shit, and that had you stressed as fuck. This is the third cigarette you have smoked during this break and has been not more than ten minutes, you have to calm down if you don’t want to smoke the entire cigarette pack by the end of the break.

“OMG I Need a cigarette so bad.” The words of your coworker Giselle coming to the rooftop terrace interrupted your thoughts. “They aren’t doing any shit to make this better.” Apparently she was as mad as you with the current situation. “Do you have a lighter? I think I lost mine.”

You just took another big puff of the cigarette, before even trying to answer her. But Giselle wasn't here to wait, she already was so stressed and didn't need another thing to make her day worse, even if it was to wait a few seconds for your asner.

Leaning on toward you she uses the cigarette you have between your lips to light her’s. The view you have during the few seconds that take light the cigarette is wonderful.. Giselle is beautiful, that’s out of discussion, but wasn’t her face what you were looking at. She was wearing the most revealing outfit she could according to the dress code, to make her cleavage look the most juicy and delicious she could. If you didn't know her tits so well you would think her nipples were at the edge of showing.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer, so you don’t have to stare at my tits like a pervert.”

“If you weren’t showing them around I couldn’t stare at them.” You took another puff and blows the smoke through your nose. “And I already have tons of photos of your tits. You send me some of those.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining. I can´t stop fucking you if you want.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?

“Daaaah of course I have one. But he doesn't work here and I need a way to take out the stress. ”Giselle blows smoke from her mouth before continuing talking. “This meeting is driving me crazy. I wish we had more time, this break isn’t even worth it to take lunch.”

“It is what it is. I guess no one is eating till this shit ends.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “At least I can look at your tits. That’s something.”

“Eeew pervert.” Giselle said with fake disgust on her face. “Wanna suck them while I jerk you off? I guess we have enough time. You never last longer.”

“Here? Sure, so anyone can see us.” You throw the cigarette to the trash and attempt to take another from the pack.

“Coward, we are on floor ten. Come here.” Giselle says, already opening the first button of her blouse and taking out her tits. Her big brown nipples come out to say hello. You give up with the new cigarette and instead unzip your pants to take out just your already semi erected dick.You klean against the wall and let Giselle put her tits on your face while she grabs your shaft. Really need to fuck me after this meeting.”

You can’t answer that because your mouth is already busy sucking Giselle’s right nipple, and your hand is rolling the other to make it hard too. For their part Giselle’s hand is working with precision on your shaft, beating your meat as she were shaking a bottle of ketchup. Clearly you're the one putting the sausage on the hot dog today.

“Are you swallowing?” You say taking her nipple out of your mouth to change to suck the other.

“No way, I’m just jerking you off.” She quickens her pace as if she were warning you to not mess with her. “After work maybe. There is a new love hotel, we should visit it.”

“Sounds good. “ Now you’re licking her nipples shifting between right and left, while your hands are squeezing her tits.

Giselle is doing her best to not moan, because your tongue isn’t giving her an easy time. Your mouth and her tits know each other well, and apparently you know how to suck Giselle’s nipples better than her boyfriend. For your part you don’t need to worry about you making noises because you have a pair of juicy tiddies shuting your mouth.

“Easy boy. I can’t go back with a mark on my tiddies. “ But instead her hand is working faster on your shaft. Her fingers are gently pressing your meat and pumping you like if she were extracting oil from the ground. And like they know when the oil is about to pop out, Giselle knew you were about to cum.

She twists her wrist and points your tip far from her, preventing you from staining her clothes with your semen. Instead your load is going to stop to the ground of the rooftop, but Giselle doesn't stop moving her hands. Instead she milks you till the last drop before stopping.

“Mmmm Ain't swallowing any shit. You need to eat more pineapple.” She says after cleaning with her tongue some drops of your semen she has between her index and thumb.

“We can have a hawaiian pizza before I eat you out.” You say putting your shaft back on your pants.”

“God. If isn't were because I know you love fucking me I would say your taste is shit.” She answers you rolling her eyes and putting her tits inside her bra once again.

#giselle #easpa #uchinaga aeri #easpa smut #giselle smut #giselle x reader #gg smut #kpop smut #fanfic #kinktober 2024

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mrsshabana · 8 months ago

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𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Being too afraid to spend another night alone, you decide to invite your best friend, Mitsuri, over for a sleepover. But you'll soon realize that was a mistake. Have you already forgotten how much your ghost loves to humiliate you? ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words.

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

The ghost stopped showing himself after that night. You could feel his presence but he never actually appeared like he had that first time.

But even though he wouldn't show himself, that didn't stop him from treating you like a toy. Knocking things over, shutting off the electricity, and even touching you while you slept. It was all a game to him.

And you'd be lying if you said you weren't terrified. Fed up of countless sleepless nights you decided to invite your best friend over for a sleepover, Mitsuri. In hopes that some company would make you feel more at ease. Or at least she would acknowledge your home was haunted so you'd feel less crazy.

But you should have known this would be a bad idea. You seem to have forgotten that the ghost gets a kick out of embarrassing you in front of other people.

Things are calm for now, though you still can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. Despite that, you still try to have a fun night with your friend.

The two of you sit on the couch in your pajamas, eating pizza, and watching a horror movie. The ring to be specific, as it's one of Mitsuri's favorites.

Then the iconic scene comes where the girl crawls through the tv, except something looks off. It looks so much more real than you remember.

The ghost crawls through your television, crawling onto the ground like some demented monster only to look into your eyes, striking fear into you.

You can't help but scream as your body jolts from the jumpscare.

"Y/N, haha!" Mitsuri laughs, "I thought you've seen this movie before! It's not that scary!"

What she doesn't know is that a ghost really did jump out of your tv! And he's rolling on the floor laughing his ass off.

"You should have seen your face!" He laughs hysterically.

You're about to say something to him before you remember Mitsuri has no idea he's there at all, so instead you're stuck trying to play it cool and ignore him like last time. "Oh haha sorry, that part gets me every time."

Mitsuri chuckles but returns her attention back to the movie, oblivious to the fact that there's an unwanted visitor in the room.

"C'mon you gotta admit that was pretty good," he smirks as he walks over to you, "I used to love this movie..." he trails off as he briefly thinks about his life when he was alive but he quickly shrugs it off, not wanting to think about it.

You want to talk to him, ask him questions, cuss him out, anything really. But you can't when Mitsuri is right there. It pisses you off that he decided to show himself now of all times and refused to do it when you were alone. But unbeknownst to you, he's doing it for a reason. Not only does he like toying with you but he also doesn't want you asking him questions about his past.

All you can do is look at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"What?" he quirks his brow, "Oh right, I guess I never really introduced myself." He plops beside you on the couch, "Name's Gyutaro."

You want to ask for a last name but knowing how much he hated you asking questions about his family, you know he'd probably refuse.

At least now you can get a proper look at him. He's tall and very thin with the palest skin you've ever seen. His long black hair seems weightless as it floats around his face. But what catches your eye is the black spots on his face. You don't know what they are but they look like birthmarks. The other thing you notice is the blood splatted on his t-shirt.

At first, you're confused but then you think about the fact that if he's a ghost, surely he must have died somehow. It makes you sad as you think about all that blood being a result of him dying in some violent way. He may be annoying but no one deserves that.

"Your friend is pretty cute," he interrupts your thoughts, "But not as cute as you... y'know I can't stop thinking about the other night. I could tell you liked it." He leans closer to your face, trying to get a reaction out of you.

"I think you owe me back. It's only fair," he says as he pulls down his pants, exposing his erection.

Your eyes widen at the sight. Maybe you should have expected this knowing how immature and horny he is, but you can't help but be shocked.

He leans back onto the sofa, getting comfortable as he languidly starts stroking himself.

You look over at Mitsuri, then to Gyutaro again. Your face heats up, completely embarrassed about the situation you're in. You know your friend can't see him but that doesn't make it any better! She's sitting on your right while this annoying ghost is jerking off on your left.

"Just touch it, I promise it doesn't bite," he moves his hips closer - gently tapping your arm with his member, "C'mon, pleaaase!" He whines like an entitled child.

You just cross your arms and refuse to give him any attention, hoping that he'll get bored and stop.

Even though he's annoying, you can't help but find something about him charming. Maybe it's the fact that he's not how you imagined ghosts to be. Or maybe it's that playful attitude he seems to have.

And honestly, you can't deny that he's attractive. Having a ghost haunting your new home isn't ideal, but at least he's sexy and seems to have taken a liking to you. He acts like a needy puppy, desperate for your attention.

Probably because he's been trapped here for so long, all alone.

But even so, how would it look if you started touching him? If Mitsuri glanced over she'd see you jerking off the air! How embarrassing that would be! So even if you're willing to play along, you can't do it now. And Gyutaro knows that, it's just all a part of the fun.

"Fine, be that way," he pouts as he tilts his head back and focuses on pleasuring himself.

You peek over to see him picking up the pace. Slowly bucking his hips as his eyes squeeze shut and the tip of his cock glistens with precum. Soft moans escape his lips as he gets closer and closer.

Shifting uncomfortably, you rub your thighs together - feeling your panties begin to moisten. Hopefully, he doesn't notice because you know it'll only make his cocky attitude worse.

"Fuck," he groans, "I'm so lucky a hottie like you moved in, Y/N. You have no idea."

"You're annoying, but at least you're somewhat of a friendly ghost," you think to yourself, wishing you could openly respond to him.

"Ah," he moans softly, leaning closer to you. You feel his body tense up and his hand stroke faster.

It's not long before he's spilling all over the place, shooting his load without any care for where it lands. It splatters on the couch, your arm, and on your lap - splattering all over the plate of pizza you had sitting there. You feel stupid for not moving it sooner, but you honestly didn't expect a ghost to be able to ejaculate like that.

What makes it even more disturbing is how cold and slimy it is.

He doesn't even bother to clean anything up, he just sits there panting with a sick grin on his face. "Heh, you look good like that."

Before you can grab a napkin to wipe it off, Mitsuri speaks up, "Are you going to eat your pizza, Y/N? You said you were starving but you haven't even taken a bite yet!"

"Haha! Yeah Y/N, you gonna eat it or not? I don't see nothing wrong with it," Gyutaro taunts.

Your face goes red, she must not be able to see the ghostly semen all over your pizza. "I-I um..." you choke, not wanting to do this.

"Oh come on, don't be a wuss!" Gyutaro teases.

"Mine tasted great! But if you don't want it I'll have it," Mitsuri says, reaching over and grabbing your plate.

"No! I'll eat it!" You snatch the plate, not wanting your friend to eat the tainted food.

You look at Gyutaro, narrowing your eyes to show your displeasure for what you're about to do.

Hesitantly opening your mouth, you take a bite of the pizza. You shudder as you feel the cold slimey substance hit your tongue and slide down your throat. The texture is disgusting but at least it doesn't really taste like anything.

Gyutaro begins to giggle, watching in amusement as you force his cum down your throat.

"That's it," he snickers, "Eat up like a good girl! I think I'll stay here and watch you eat every last bite!"

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #gyutaro smut #gyutaro fanart #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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amethystarachnid · 7 months ago

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MUTANT BODYGUARD - part I

⤷ JAMES LOGAN HOWLETT

ᯓ★ Pairing: James Logan Howlett x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff and spicy (I mean, it's Logan...)

ᯓ★ Story type: short story

ᯓ★Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ᯓ★ Word count: 6k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Reader has stalkers and crazy fans, said stalker gets inside reader's apartment and Logan uses his claws on him

ᯓ★ Timeline: doesn't follow a timeline in the x-men movies, just...maybe before days of future past?

ᯓ★ Request: not requested

ᯓ★ From: Marvel Bingo, Bodyguard romance x Age Gap

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ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

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ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier lover click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn't my first language and this isn’t proof read

You’ve always hated the idea of needing a bodyguard. It feels ridiculous, like some over-the-top celebrity diva move. But ever since your career skyrocketed, the tabloids won’t leave you alone. A role in a blockbuster film, a few chart-topping singles, and suddenly everyone wants a piece of you. The constant media frenzy, the “fans” who somehow know where you live, the paparazzi camping outside your apartment—it’s become too much. When the threatening letters started showing up, your manager insisted on hiring a bodyguard.

You rolled your eyes, argued, but eventually caved. You love your career, but you’re not an idiot. You know when things get dangerous.

So, here you are, pacing back and forth in your living room, waiting for the “best in the business” to show up. The guy your manager picked. No name, no details, just a reputation for getting the job done. Whatever that means.

You stop mid-step when the door opens. In walks a man who looks like he’s seen and survived more wars than any human being should. His hair is a wild mess, and the dark scruff on his face gives him a rugged, almost dangerous look. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and built like someone who could easily break someone in half with his bare hands. He’s wearing a leather jacket, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal thick forearms that have clearly seen some action.

You blink, not expecting…well, this.

“You’re the bodyguard?” you ask, eyes sweeping over him. You were expecting someone in a suit, maybe with an earpiece and sunglasses. Not…a lumberjack biker.

He glances at you with piercing, slightly narrowed eyes. “Logan. And yeah, I’m your bodyguard, sweetheart.”

You cross your arms, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He gives a half-smirk, the kind that’s both infuriating and somehow annoyingly attractive. “Noted.”

There’s an awkward pause as he looks you up and down, assessing you in a way that makes you want to shrink under his gaze. “So, what’s the deal? You a princess or somethin’? 'Cause I gotta say, this gig doesn’t exactly scream 'royalty.'”

“I’m an actress, actually,” you respond with a touch of sarcasm. “Maybe you’ve heard of me.”

Logan’s unimpressed. He shrugs, clearly not the type to follow pop culture. “Nope.”

You’re not sure whether to be offended or relieved. On one hand, it’s nice not to be recognized. On the other hand, what rock has this guy been living under? You’re practically everywhere these days.

“You can Google me later,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “I guess I’ll just assume you’re qualified.”

“More than qualified,” he growls, his voice deep and gravelly, like it’s been dragged across the pavement. “I don’t do babysitting, but your manager was…insistent. Apparently, someone out there’s got a real interest in makin’ sure you don’t stick around long enough for the next season of whatever-you’re-in.”

You narrow your eyes at him, irritated by his attitude. “Well, lucky me, right? Having you around means I’ll definitely survive to make another movie.”

He smirks again, this time with more of an edge. “Keep that attitude up, and I’ll have you wishing they got to you first.”

You snort, because as gruff as he is, you’re not intimidated. “I bet you’re a real hit at parties.”

“I don’t do parties.”

“Shocking,” you deadpan, unable to stop yourself from throwing in a bit of sass.

Logan’s eyebrow twitches, but he seems more amused than annoyed by your attitude. “You’re gonna be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

“Only if you deserve it,” you quip, sitting down on your couch and crossing your legs. “So, how does this work? Do you stand in the corner looking all broody while I go about my life? Or are you planning on following me everywhere like a lost puppy?”

He scoffs, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. “You wish. I’m not here to play lapdog. I’m here to make sure no one tries to kill you. If that means following you around and making sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble than you’re worth, so be it.”

“Comforting,” you say dryly. “It’s nice to know you think I’m worth saving.”

Logan pauses, eyes locking with yours, and for a second, the air between you shifts. His gaze softens just a fraction, enough that you almost forget the gruff exterior. Almost.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you were,” he says, his tone quieter but no less intense.

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Well…thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Then he glances around your apartment. “You got security cameras?”

“Uh, yeah. Around the building,” you say, still trying to shake off the weird tension between you two.

“Good. I’ll check the perimeter. You stay put,” he orders, turning to leave.

“Oh, sure, yeah, I’ll just sit here quietly while my life’s in danger,” you call after him, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Don’t worry about me.”

Logan stops at the door and looks over his shoulder with that damn smirk again. “I won’t.”

As he walks out, you can’t help but shake your head. This is going to be a long job.

The first couple of days with Logan are…interesting, to say the least. He’s always there, a constant shadow, but he’s not the hovering type. He gives you space, but you can feel his presence in the room, always alert, always watching. And the banter—well, that hasn’t stopped.

“You think you could maybe try not to look like you hate being here?” you ask one morning as you head out for a meeting with your agent.

Logan’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that signature scowl on his face. “This is my happy face.”

“Really? Because it looks a lot like your ‘I want to punch someone in the throat’ face.”

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling. “That’s pretty much the same face.”

You sigh dramatically, brushing past him. “Well, you’re really selling the ‘friendly bodyguard’ vibe.”

“Good thing I’m not here to be friendly,” he shoots back, falling into step beside you.

“Right. You’re just here to make sure I don’t die.”

“Exactly.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, but you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe a little.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Logan looks at you, his expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, but I’m growing on you.”

“Debatable.”

But as you both walk out into the chaos of cameras, fans, and flashing lights, you realize he might be right.

The next few days pass in a blur of meetings, interviews, and public appearances. With Logan by your side, everything is under control. He’s always there—solid, unflinching, and frustratingly good at his job. You don’t feel a single ounce of fear when he’s around, but you do feel something else, something that keeps tightening between you two like a stretched wire.

It’s impossible not to notice how Logan moves, how his muscles flex under that leather jacket when he’s surveying a crowd, the quiet, simmering power in his stance. And then there are the looks. God, the looks he gives you. It’s subtle, but whenever you catch his eye, there’s this electric charge, a tension that wraps itself around you both, even if no one else in the room can feel it.

You don’t acknowledge it, though. At least, not out loud. It’s ridiculous. He’s older—way older—and this is supposed to be professional. You’re not some starry-eyed girl who’s going to fall for her bodyguard just because he’s dangerous and good-looking.

Right?

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. But the more time you spend with him, the harder it is to ignore. He’s just so there, so…Logan.

The rumors don’t help either.

It starts with a photo—just one. The paparazzi manage to catch Logan opening your car door, his hand on the small of your back as you slip inside. It’s a simple, professional gesture, but in the world of tabloids, it’s something else entirely. Within hours, the internet is flooded with headlines: Mysterious Man Seen With Actress Y/N! New Bodyguard or New Romance?

You laugh it off at first, but the rumors snowball. Suddenly, every gossip site is buzzing with theories. Logan’s too attractive to just be a bodyguard, they say. You’re spending too much time together. There are whispers about the age gap, about the “forbidden attraction.” Some tabloids get more imaginative—Logan: The Bad Boy Who Stole Y/N’s Heart? or Secret Fling with Older Bodyguard? Inside the Dangerous Romance.

“I can’t believe people are actually buying this,” you mutter, scrolling through a particularly ridiculous article.

Logan’s lounging on your couch, reading through a security report. He doesn’t even look up when he responds. “You’re famous. People’ll believe anything.”

“Yeah, but this?” You wave your phone at him, exasperated. “Secret romance? Seriously?”

Finally, he glances up, his expression unreadable. “You worried about it?”

You snort. “No. It’s just insane. People will say anything for clicks.”

Logan’s silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer than necessary. “It’s not that crazy, y’know.”

You freeze, your heart doing a weird little flip. “What’s not?”

He smirks, just a touch of amusement in his eyes. “You. Me. The rumors.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I—what?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “People see what they wanna see, darlin’. You’re young, successful, in the spotlight. They think you’re gonna fall for the first guy that gives you a little danger, a little excitement.”

You narrow your eyes, heat prickling at your skin. “And you think you give me that?”

Logan’s smirk widens, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. “Don’t I?”

Your stomach twists in response. There’s no denying it—there’s something between you two, something you’ve been ignoring for days. Weeks, maybe. But hearing him say it, so casually, like it’s a fact you both already know, sends a rush of heat straight through you.

“Logan,” you start, trying to regain some control, “there’s nothing—”

“Yeah? You sure about that?” His voice is low, and suddenly the space between you feels smaller, like the room’s shrinking, the air thickening. He’s not even touching you, but it feels like he is, the weight of his presence pushing against every nerve in your body.

You swallow hard. “We—there’s an age gap.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, there is. Doesn’t seem to stop ‘em from talkin’, does it?”

“No, but—” You stop, frustrated, because what’s your argument here? That you’re not attracted to him? That you don’t spend half your nights thinking about what it would be like if he wasn’t just your bodyguard?

Logan stands, slowly, and you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. His sheer size makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. He moves closer, and your breath catches in your throat as he stops just in front of you.

“Thing is, people are gonna talk,” he says, voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Doesn’t matter what we do or don’t do. So, the way I see it, you got two choices. You keep fightin’ what’s happenin’, or…”

He pauses, his eyes dropping to your lips before slowly moving back up to meet your gaze.

“…you see where this goes.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. There’s no more pretending, no more banter to hide behind. The air is thick with everything you’ve been avoiding—the attraction, the tension, the unspoken desire that’s been crackling between you both since the moment you met.

You take a shaky breath, trying to think through the haze of want clouding your mind. “Logan, this is—this is complicated. We can’t just—”

“Why not?” His voice is rough, raw, like he’s barely holding himself back. “You’re not some kid. You know what you want. So do I.”

There’s a dangerous edge to his words, something primal that sends another surge of heat through you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone think straight.

You try to hold on to logic, to the rational part of your brain that’s screaming at you to slow down. But when you meet his eyes, all dark and stormy, your resolve crumbles.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” Logan murmurs, his voice so low it’s barely a whisper. His hand moves, just a fraction, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you, to pull you close. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Because you can’t tell him that. You can’t say the words when your whole body is aching for something you know you shouldn’t want but can’t stop thinking about.

He steps closer, and the air between you crackles with the kind of tension that makes your skin tingle. “Last chance, sweetheart.”

Your pulse races. Every rational thought, every reason you’ve been telling yourself not to cross this line, fades into the background. All you can think about is him—his scent, his presence, the way his body radiates heat like a furnace.

“Logan…” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

That’s all it takes.

In one swift movement, he closes the distance between you, his large hands finding your waist as he pulls you against him. The world tilts, and before you can think, before you can breathe, his lips are on yours—hot, demanding, and absolutely relentless.

You gasp against his mouth, but it’s lost in the kiss, in the way he takes control, his grip firm but careful, as though he’s been holding himself back for weeks and now there’s no stopping it. He tastes like whiskey and danger, and the moment his tongue brushes against yours, your knees threaten to give out.

You don’t even realize your hands are in his hair until you’re pulling him closer, pressing against him as if you can’t get enough. The kiss is rough, intense, filled with every ounce of pent-up tension you’ve both been ignoring.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Still think it’s just rumors?” he growls, voice ragged.

You can’t speak. You just shake your head, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body flush against his.

Logan smirks, his thumb brushing against your hip. “Thought so.”

Just as you start to lose yourself in the heat of Logan’s kiss, a sharp, sudden beep cuts through the haze. It takes a second to register, but when you pull back slightly, you see Logan’s face shift—his entire body going rigid. His phone is vibrating in his jacket pocket.

The change in him is immediate. The heat, the softness, all of it hardens into something sharp and dangerous. He pulls away from you, grabbing his phone with a quick, practiced movement. You don’t get a chance to ask what’s happening because his jaw clenches, eyes narrowing at the screen.

"Shit," he mutters, already moving toward the door.

“What’s going on?” You ask, heart still racing from a mix of adrenaline and confusion.

Logan’s whole demeanor has shifted into something colder, sharper—his focus laser-like. "Someone’s inside the building."

Your stomach drops. "What? How? Shouldn’t the security downstairs—"

"They got past it," he interrupts, throwing on his jacket in one fluid motion. His eyes are darker now, more alert, and it sends a chill down your spine. "Stay here."

Before you can protest, he’s out the door. But the idea of staying still, alone, in a situation like this? No chance. You grab your phone and follow him, keeping a few paces behind as he stalks through the hall, every movement precise, calculated.

He barely glances back at you, his body a wall of tension, like he’s ready to explode into action at any second. "I told you to stay back, Y/N," he growls under his breath, his voice low and urgent.

"And I don’t take orders," you snap back, even though you’re trembling inside. The hallway feels too quiet, too still.

Before Logan can argue, you both hear it—heavy footsteps, coming from the stairwell. Your heart skips a beat. You weren’t prepared for this kind of fear. Sure, the letters had freaked you out, but this? Someone actually in the building, hunting you?

Logan moves so fast you barely see it, pushing you behind him as the door to the stairwell creaks open. The figure that steps out is shadowy at first, but as the light hits him, you see a man—unshaven, wild-eyed, and holding a small knife that glints in the dim light. He’s muttering something under his breath, eyes locked on you.

"There you are," the man breathes, voice unnervingly soft. "I’ve been waiting for this moment."

Before you can react, Logan steps forward, his body a barrier between you and the man. "Back off," he warns, his voice so low it rumbles in his chest.

The stalker’s eyes flick to Logan, sizing him up, but instead of retreating, he grins. "You think you can stop me? I’ve been planning this for months."

You feel your skin crawl, bile rising in your throat. But Logan is a wall of calm fury. Without a word, he lunges at the man, moving so fast you barely register the impact. Logan’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the wall with a sickening thud.

It should have ended there. Any normal man would have been down for the count. But the stalker scrambles to his feet, eyes wide with manic determination, swinging the knife wildly.

You gasp as the blade slashes through the air, missing Logan by inches. But he’s not rattled. He ducks, then pivots with a speed and grace that shouldn’t be possible for someone his size. And then, with a growl that sounds more animal than human, Logan throws the stalker against the wall, pinning him there.

The man struggles, trying to bring the knife up again. But then, something happens—something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

Logan’s hand shoots forward, and suddenly there’s a metallic SNIKT. Three long, razor-sharp claws extend from between his knuckles—gleaming silver, impossibly deadly. They punch through the man’s jacket, pinning him by the shoulder to the wall.

The stalker lets out a scream, eyes wide in terror. But your own scream is stuck in your throat. All you can do is stare, your brain struggling to comprehend what you’re seeing.

Logan has claws. Metal claws.

What the hell?

With the stalker writhing in pain, Logan leans in close, his voice a low growl. "You picked the wrong damn target."

The man whimpers, his bravado completely gone as blood trickles from the shallow wound. Logan jerks the claws free, and the man collapses to the ground, groaning in pain but still breathing. Without a second glance at his attacker, Logan turns to you.

“Y/N,” he says, stepping toward you, his voice a low, rough murmur that sounds far away. “It’s not what you think—”

But you stumble back, the knife in your hand trembling, not because of the stalker lying on the floor, but because of him. Because of what you just saw.

“Y-you…what—” You can’t even get the words out, your mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened. “What are you?”

Logan’s face tightens. He’s clearly seen this reaction before. “I’m a mutant,” he says quietly, the calmness in his voice almost unnerving given what just went down. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but—”

“I—” You take another step back, your heart still racing. “Mutant? Logan, you—what the hell did you just—” Your eyes drop to his hands, where the claws retracted just moments ago. “You have claws?”

Logan doesn’t move, his hands by his sides, still covered in a few drops of the intruder’s blood. His whole body looks tense, as though he’s bracing himself for whatever comes next. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says, his voice low and steady. “But I’m not gonna hurt you. I’d never—”

“You—” You’re shaking your head, not even sure what you’re trying to say. Everything’s too much. You’ve only ever heard horror stories about mutants, about how dangerous they can be, how you should keep your distance. You’ve never known anyone who was one…until now.

And it’s Logan. The guy who’s been protecting you.

The guy who just kissed you.

“I need…I need some space,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper, your mind still reeling.

Logan’s expression shifts, a flicker of something that looks almost like regret crossing his face. But he nods, stepping back slowly. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re scared. But I’m still the same guy I was five minutes ago. I’m not the enemy, Y/N.”

You know that. Deep down, in some part of yourself, you know that Logan wouldn’t hurt you. He’s saved your life, protected you, and been nothing but loyal. But right now, your instincts are screaming at you to get away, to process what the hell just happened.

“I just…please, I need to be alone,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Logan’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something. But then he nods once, giving you space, just like you asked. “I’ll be close,” he says quietly, before turning and walking away, leaving you alone in the hallway with your racing thoughts.

As he disappears around the corner, you lean back against the wall, your knees threatening to give out. You’re not sure what scares you more, the stalker lying unconscious on the floor, or the realization that Logan isn’t just a man with a bad attitude and a dangerous past.

He’s something else entirely.

And you have no idea what that means for you both.

The next day is a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. You wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, but instead of feeling rested, your heart pounds in your chest, and the events of the previous day come flooding back. Logan’s claws, the way he fought off that intruder, the raw power he displayed—it all feels surreal.

You spend the morning trying to distract yourself, throwing yourself into your usual routine. You have interviews lined up and a photoshoot to get through, but every moment, you can’t shake the image of Logan standing over that intruder, the fierceness in his eyes as he retracted those deadly claws. There’s a knot in your stomach, a strange mix of fear and something else you can’t quite place.

Despite your attempts at normalcy, you’re acutely aware of the absence of Logan. He hasn’t checked in, hasn’t texted, and that silence weighs heavily on you. You told him you needed space, but now, part of you wonders if you made a mistake pushing him away.

As the afternoon stretches on, you finish your last interview and head back to your apartment, an unshakable sense of anticipation coursing through you. The place feels different without Logan’s presence, quieter, more hollow. You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself for whatever comes next.

The door swings open, and you step inside. The scent of leather and Logan’s cologne still lingers in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. You glance around, half-hoping to see him leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, that trademark smirk on his lips. But the space is empty.

You walk into the living room, the tension from the previous day still hanging in the air. You’re about to pour yourself a glass of water when a knock on the door startles you. You freeze, heartbeat quickening as you glance at the clock. It’s late, too late for anyone else to drop by.

You approach the door cautiously and open it, your breath catching in your throat as you see Logan standing there, his presence filling the doorway. He looks as imposing as ever, dressed in a black t-shirt that hugs his torso, the leather jacket thrown over one shoulder. His hair is tousled, and there’s a shadow of stubble on his jaw that somehow makes him look even more rugged.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and a touch uncertain.

“Hey,” you manage, heart racing. The tension between you two feels palpable, and you can’t ignore the rush of warmth spreading through your body at the sight of him.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his expression serious, but there’s an underlying urgency that makes your stomach flip.

“Of course,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in. He walks past you, the warmth of his body brushing against yours, sending a rush of heat through your veins.

Logan turns to face you, his expression shifting, revealing the storm brewing behind his eyes. “I wanted to talk. About yesterday.”

“Okay,” you say, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze. “I mean…you didn’t have to come over.”

“I wanted to,” he says, his voice dropping lower, almost a growl. “I’ve been thinking about you, and I… I didn’t like how we left things.”

The way he looks at you makes your heart race. There’s a vulnerability in his expression, a longing that mirrors the tumult inside you. But there’s something else too—something electric.

“I was scared, Logan,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything just happened so fast. I didn’t know—”

“I know.” He steps closer, closing the distance between you, the heat radiating off him wrapping around you like a thick blanket. “But I’m still me. I’d never hurt you.”

You search his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you see is sincerity mixed with an undeniable hunger.

“I just… I don’t know what to do with all of this.” You gesture between the two of you, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hanging heavy in the air.

Logan takes another step closer, his voice a rough murmur. “What do you want?”

Your breath hitches. The question hangs in the air, charged and raw, and for the first time, you allow yourself to confront the truth of your feelings. “I want—”

Before you can finish, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that ignites the fire simmering beneath your skin. It’s not the same as before; it’s deeper, more urgent, filled with the need to reclaim what was almost lost.

You melt against him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss. Logan’s hands roam your sides, fingers skimming over your hips, drawing you nearer as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

When he pulls back, his breath mingles with yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. “You want this,” he says, voice low and rough, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “You want me.”

“I do,” you admit, your cheeks flushing as the words spill out. “But it’s complicated, Logan. We shouldn’t—”

“Who cares?” His fingers slide down your arms, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re not just some celebrity to me. You’re not just a job.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice is a whisper, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive.

“I mean you’re you. I don’t care what the tabloids say. I don’t care about the age difference or the rumors. I want you.”

His words send a thrill through you, igniting a spark of something wild and reckless. You’ve never felt this way before, not like this. It’s heady, intoxicating.

“Logan, what if—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, more demanding this time, as if he’s trying to erase every doubt from your mind. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel every muscle in his body, the heat radiating off him in waves.

And then it happens again—the sharp, undeniable rush of want overwhelms you. The world outside fades away, and all that matters is this moment, this connection, this man standing before you.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless. “This is crazy,” you say, your mind racing, but the way Logan looks at you silences your doubts.

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice low and gravelly. “But I’d rather be crazy with you than without you.”

Your heart flips, and suddenly the space between you feels impossibly small. You’ve never wanted someone like this before, and the thought sends a thrill of excitement through you.

“Then what do we do?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, heart racing at the thought of what lies ahead.

Logan smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we start by not overthinking this.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your cheek, igniting a fire in your core. “And maybe just…enjoying each other.”

His lips trail down to your neck, kissing a path that makes your head spin. You lean into him, surrendering to the moment as his warm breath sends shivers down your spine. The world outside is forgotten, and it feels like you’ve stepped into a realm that’s just yours and his.

“Logan…” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desire flooding your senses.

His lips brush against yours again, teasing, playful, igniting the tension that’s been building between you two. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. “I promise I won’t bite…unless you want me to.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, and the air crackles with undeniable tension. Maybe this is crazy, but right now, with Logan’s warmth enveloping you and the world outside forgotten, it feels more than right. It feels like fate.

Days turn into weeks, and you and Logan become a fixture in each other's lives. What began as a chaotic bodyguard relationship slowly evolves into something far more intimate—something neither of you anticipated but both desperately needed.

You find yourself falling into a routine, one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. Every morning, he’s there, often making breakfast—his way of saying he cares, even if he does burn the toast. Every night, you curl up on the couch with him, sharing popcorn and movies, laughter filling the spaces where tension once resided. But it’s the moments outside those walls that change everything.

You don’t keep your relationship a secret, not intentionally, anyway. You both know the world you live in—the public scrutiny, the flashing cameras, the endless rumors. But Logan doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it emboldens him, a rebellious spark igniting in his eyes whenever you’re out together.

One sunny Saturday afternoon, you find yourselves strolling through a park in downtown Los Angeles, the kind of place where everyone is too busy with their own lives to pay attention to two people in love. But as you walk hand in hand, you can’t help but notice a few heads turning.

“Logan, I think we’re being watched,” you murmur, glancing around at the passersby. The mix of curiosity and surprise is palpable, but you also feel the warmth of Logan’s hand gripping yours, reassuring and steady.

“They can look all they want,” he grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss against your temple, his stubble grazing your skin. The contact sends a thrill through you.

“You’re not worried about the tabloids?” you ask, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Let them say what they want. At least they’ll get my age wrong,” he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Besides, you think I care about some headlines? I’m more concerned about you.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, and you can’t help but lean into him, your heart swelling with affection.

But the cameras don’t stop. That evening, as you both enjoy dinner at a trendy rooftop restaurant, the whispers and glances become more pronounced. The waitress seems to be holding back a grin as she serves you drinks, clearly recognizing Logan and you. You glance around, feeling a little exposed but also exhilarated.

“This could be the new gossip for the tabloids,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “‘Famous singer falls for mysterious bodyguard.’”

“Or maybe ‘Local badass finally finds a reason to smile,’” he counters, winking at you. You laugh, the sound bright and airy, and it feels good.

You both savor the evening, leaning into the playful banter and the stolen glances that carry an undeniable spark. But when the two of you leave the restaurant, a group of paparazzi suddenly swarms you, their cameras flashing like fireworks in the night.

“Y/N! Is it true you’re dating Logan Howlett?” one of them shouts, voice cutting through the air like a knife.

“Logan, how long have you two been seeing each other?” another calls, pushing closer, their cameras nearly colliding with your faces.

Logan’s grip tightens around your waist, and you can feel his tension rising. You glance at him, but he simply raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips. “Guess they’re interested, huh?”

“Yeah, interested in our personal lives,” you whisper, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“Let them watch,” Logan says, stepping closer to you, almost as if to shield you from the chaos. “Just remember—they don’t know the half of it.”

You share a glance, and there’s a spark of understanding in his eyes. With a deep breath, you face the throng of reporters. “We’re happy together,” you say, your voice steady despite the cameras flashing around you. “That’s all that matters.”

The crowd quiets for a moment, the buzz of excitement hanging in the air. Then Logan leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, and the cameras go wild. The moment feels electric, and as you pull away, you can’t help but grin.

“Wow, you’ve really got it bad, don’t you?” he teases, the playful glint in his eye returning.

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your heart soaring.

The reporters seem to be taken aback by the chemistry between you, the dynamic clearly more than just a simple bodyguard-client relationship. You can hear the murmurs among the crowd as you both walk past, the air buzzing with a mix of curiosity and approval.

“Do you think it’s serious?” one of them asks.

“I heard she’s been seen with him a lot,” another replies, voice laced with intrigue. “What a power couple!”

“Wonder how long they’ll last,” a third one scoffs, but you’re too high on adrenaline to let their words get to you.

As you reach your car, Logan turns to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nod, a burst of happiness washing over you. “More than okay.”

“Good,” he replies, smirking. “Because now you’re stuck with me. The tabloids might as well start preparing for a long-term feature.”

“Is that a challenge?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Absolutely,” he says, pulling you closer as you both settle into the car. “Just remember, if they start digging into our lives, I’m the one with the claws.”

You burst out laughing, and as he revs the engine, the world feels like it’s finally aligning. The chaos of the paparazzi, the gossip, the rumors—they all fade away. Because in this moment, it’s just you and Logan, ready to take on whatever the world throws your way, together.

201 notes · View notes

kingofpopmj · 7 months ago

Text

You Know, Love Is All We Need

Summary: The Jackson Family roll out in full force to take part in the recording of We Are The World. Michael feels helpless as his wife isn’t welcome by all his loved ones.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader!

Warning: FAMILY DRAMA, ARGUING AND CURSING

Requested: yes

*Michael’s POV*

“Babe, I’m serious.” She whined, throwing herself back onto the bed.

“Y/N, baby, you can’t just not go. You’re my wife. My whole family is going to be there. I’d like for you to be with me.” I grabbed her hands, pulling her up to face me. “You’re the best part of me. I can’t do it without you.”

“Michael, your family hates me.” Her voice was sad and she looked at me with pleading eyes.

“That’s not true.” She pursed her lips at me, crossing her arms and a hint of glossiness filling her eyes. “No, please don’t cry.”

“It’s always a fight. I’m exhausted.” Her head hung low and I couldn’t think of anything else to do but hold her.

“I’m sorry. My mother loves you and that’s the most important thing— she’s crazy about you. I know my dad is rough, but he doesn’t hate you. My brothers lose their minds over you, they love having you around. My sisters—”

“You know it isn’t them. They’re great. It’s Latoya. She always—”

“I know. I know.” I cut her off before she went any further. I didn’t want her to break down like the last time. “I’ve spoken to her about it. She’s not going to be an issue anymore. I promise.”

“She always attacks me.” She sounded defeated and all I could do was comfort her. “I can’t take much more of it. It feels like it’s getting worse, like when we all went to the studio together. I thought it would be a nice bonding moment, but…” She drifted off, burying her face deeper into my chest.

“Michael! You made it!” Latoya cheered, she jumped up from where she was sitting with my brothers.

“Hey!” It was then I fully walked into the room, holding Y/N’s hand as she followed right behind me.

“Oh, you brought her.” Latoya rolled her eyes in a huff, turning away from us without another word.

“My wife? Yes, I brought my wife.” I spat back, beyond irritated with my sister’s sudden attitude. “She’s a musician. She was invited.”

“Yeah, she’s even giving Michael some nice competition, ain’t that right sister?” Marlon hopped up, hugging us both. “It’s great to see you.”

“If it isn’t one of my favorite Jackson’s.” Y/N laughed, sharing her secret handshake with my brother.

“Well, the rest of us are excited.” Tito spoke up, pulling my wife into a hug, then patting me on the back. “Toya is just jealous. The only reason she’s here is because she’s related to us crazy handsome and extremely talented fellas.” He said it loud enough for her to hear, but all she did was cross her arms.

“T, that’s not nice.” My wife whispered, shaking her head like she was scolding a child.

“It’s the damn truth. If she focused on her career as much has she focused on having that stick up her butt, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Tito was blunt, the words were a bit harsh, but he’s right. “Y/N, you’re family and the way she— it don’t sit right with me. I want you to know we— you’re part of this family, you’re a special part and we…”

“We love you.” Jermaine sang, finishing the sentence his brother was becoming too emotional to finish.

“I love you guys too.”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory, kissing her forehead before speaking again. “I know and I’m sorry. We discussed it. She’s looking forward to seeing us so she can apologize in person.” My wife raised her eyebrow at me. “She’s just having trouble— I think having a new sister-in-law has been tough on her.”

“Okay. I guess if your whole family will be there it’ll be fun, but if something happens I’m leaving. I’m serious. I don’t want anymore problems.”

“We. If something happens we will leave. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know you won’t.”

*Y/N’s POV*

We arrived at The Jackson home right on time, everything was business as usual— just enjoying one anothers company. There was loud music and mountains of delicious food. We made our way around the party, greeting everyone and watching the kids running around the yard. It was fun. So far, tonight felt like it wouldn’t be so bad.

“How are you doing?” Michael whispered near my ear.

“Good, thank you for talking me into coming. I’m having fun.” I dragged my thumb across his bottom lip before stretching up to my tippy toes and kissing his lovely lips.

“Ew. Do you have to do that where we can all see you?” Of course. I didn’t need to look to know Latoya had arrived. “It’s disgusting. You can’t wait until your home to maul—”

“Shut up Latoya.” Michael rolled his eyes, pulling me deeper into his chest.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Michael simply stared her down— like he was daring her to say something else. By the way her mouth snapped shut, it was clear she wasn’t expecting that. They stared at each other a little longer before finally she walked off.

“I seriously don’t understand what’s up with her.” He muttered. “She’s really pissing me off.”

“I have no idea, but I rather not hang around to find out. Don’t let her get to you babe. Maybe we should—”

“You want to go already? We can.” He gave me a sweet smile of approval, showing me he had my back and understood.

“No! You can’t leave! Come on! We’re gonna play some games.” Janet cheered, running over to the cabinet and grabbing about a dozen glass bottles. “Well, you gonna stand there like two dimwits or are you gonna help me?”

“I think we could stay longer!” I giggled, skipping over to help my sister-in-law. “Come on dork get to stepping.” I tickled his side before running outside and onto the deck. Michael didn’t waste any time chasing after me, eventually tackling me in the grass.

“You’re being bad now?” He spoke breathlessly, struggling to get a grip on my wrists as I wiggled beneath him. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?” I whispered as low as possible, but I could tell by the way he froze on spot that he heard me loud and clear.

“Oh great they’re going to fornicate right in front of us now. Just what I want to see.” Latoya again, isn’t she lovely?

“I wish.” Michael mumbled, getting to his feet and helping me to mine. “To be continued…” he laughed.

“Most definitely. I mean if you’re up for it… we can slip away to the bathroom for a quick—” there was no way I’d actually do it under his parents roof, but I still enjoyed teasing him.

“Shhh. Don’t.” His hands pressed against my mouth and he silently begged me to stop teasing him. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Finally, she needs a muzzle.” Latoya yelled, then laughed way too loud at her own joke. Michael’s hands fell to his sides and he just stared at her as the area grew quiet. The tension between the siblings growing rapidly.

“Gosh, you know, I knew your voice was irritating, but your laugh makes me want to rip my ears off.” My husband scoffed, standing his ground again.

“Woah, Mike what’s got your undies in a twist? Trouble in paradise?” She questioned, sipping from her drink. “Marriage isn’t for everyone.” She sang, that comment got everyone’s attention. I knew Michael was going to lose it on her.

“No way! I forgot you’re an expert on marriage. Tell me how’s the husband? Oh wait, you don’t have one. Last time I checked no one is lining up to make you a wife.” Michael said confidently, his hand finding mine and happily guiding me away from her.

“Oh shit! Little brother is cold today!” Jackie clapped proudly. “Stone cold!”

“You got told!” Randy shouted, pointing his finger directly in Latoya’s face as she failed to push him away.

We were in the middle of a game of darts when Jermaine and Randy started yelling at the TV.

“Michael! Your wife is on the television looking lovely.” Randy winked, making finger guns with his hands.

“She always looks lovely you goon.” Michael said slinging his arm around my shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell us! We would’ve turned it on sooner! I love this show!” Rebbie jumped up, trying to find the button to turn up the volume.

“Ah! It’s Funny or Die! It’s so funny! Y/N! I can’t believe you were on.” Janet cheered. “Beth is hilarious.”

“I completely forgot it was going to be on today.” I said truthfully. “We don’t have to watch it.”

“The hell we don’t! We’re watching it!”

“Why are we acting like this is groundbreaking? She’s not helping achieve world peace.” Latoya snapped. “It doesn’t take a damn rocket scientist to sit on a couch and answer questions.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember anyone begging to ask you any questions, you fool.” Jackie cracked, waving her off.

“I’ve done interviews!” She snapped back.

“That no one watches, which is why it probably happened once— maybe. I doubt it” Randy laughed, throwing his head back. “Most likely in your dreams. That’s the only place you’re a big deal.”

“Shhh! I can’t hear it.” Janet shouted.

Welcome to tonight’s Funny or Die on Comedy Central with special guest Mrs. Y/N Jackson!

*Beth Littleford’s voice*

“So, Mrs. Jackson, you are married to one of the most influential artists of our lifetime— you’ve married into The Royal Family of entertainment. Why did you do that to yourself?”

“I’m not sure I understand that question.” A smile on my face as I stared at her waiting for an explanation.

“Well, that’s a lot of star power, I’d imagine a lot of diva behavior goes on behind the scenes. Who do you hate the most? If presented the opportunity, which Jackson would you to send off to an abandoned island?”

“There’s actually no diva behavior. They’re all very kind and down to earth. They’ve handled all of the fame with such grace, they’re amazing people. I’m very lucky. I love being a part of the family.”

“You’re a bad liar Mrs. Jackson. Okay, back to your husband. He’s incredibly handsome, you’re stunning— very beautiful. My question is, of the two of you, who spends more time looking in the mirror?” She was so good at keeping a straight face that it became more difficult for me to do the same.

“We—” I turned my head to take a breath and bite back the laughter trying to escape. “I don’t feel we spend much time doing that—”

“Mrs. Jackson, if we’re going to do this I’m going to need you to stop bullshitting me.” She said it in a professional voice and I immediately broke. “Okay, get it together, I’ll try this again, you and your husband are very successful musicians. What I’d like to know is, who’s better? Be honest. Your answer will stay between us.” She nodded towards me, snapping her finger in the air, signaling the camera to obnoxiously zoom in on my face.

“Oh, that’s easy. My husband of course. He is so out of my league. His talent is unbelievable, unfathomable, unreachable. He’s one of a kind. I’m a huge fan of his work. He’s incredible. He’s so— he’s everything. The music he creates, his process, his stage presence, everything— he takes my breath away.”

“That’s a lie.” Beth shot out, turning her back to me and looking into the camera. “I guess we will never know the truth. Y/N appears to be devoted to dodging the questions we all want answers to. There’s no other way to say it folks, she sucks.” She concluded with a shrug and I bursted out laughing behind her.

“At the end of the day I had to ask Y/N for one final encore.” Beth spoke as the screen cut to a clip of us walking through a garden, until cutting back to the interview room.

“In 1985, you participated in We Are The World, which brought together some of the top performers of our day..… and Latoya Jackson.” Immediately, I buried my face in my hands, desperately trying to hold in my laughter. “The thing everyone wants to know, what I need to ask you.” I shook my head, dropping my hands and smiling at her. “Bear with me.” I nodded, sitting up straight, awaiting her question. “What the hell was Dan Aykroyd doing there?”

“Beth—” I couldn’t finish my answer without giggling. “Beth.” I crossed my legs, attempting to compose myself once again. “That’s my sister-in-law you’re talking about.”

“Yes.” She answered simply.

“You know, The entire Jackson family is talented. It’s in their DNA, Latoya is unique—”

“Unique as in the talent skipped her?” She interrupted me, clicking her pen and scribbling down notes.

“That’s not— all the Jackson’s are very talented and Latoya is gifted in her own right.” I crossed my legs and gave her a tight lipped smile.

“You know, when you say that, I almost believe you.” Beth said with a straight face. That time the laughter escaped my mouth before I could stop it, I leaned forward into the vacant couch cushions beside me.

“You’re so bad.” I said breathlessly as I shook my head playfully.

“So, back to Dan Aykroyd, what the hell was he contributing?”

“Dan, I’m not sure. I think he was just there to be a part of the moment.”

The room filled with laughter as we watched the skit together. Jackie gave me a thumbs up, he was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. Tito had knocked over his drink, pounding on the table in front of him. It felt good— like home. I truly loved this crazy family. Michael slipped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my head before resting his chin on my shoulder.

“For the record, you’re the one that’s out of my league.” He started. “You’re perfect.”

I hummed leaning back into his embrace as he swayed as back and forth. Our peace was cut short quickly by a loud screech.

“It’s not funny! This isn’t funny at all! Stop! Stop laughing!” Latoya shouted. She pointed her finger in my face. “How dare you! You made a joke of me!”

“Latoya, I didn’t make a joke of you.” My hold around Michael’s forearms tightened at the sudden outburst— which quickly had everyone’s attention.

“Do not yell at my wife.” Michael’s voice boomed, low and harsh— it was made me nervous. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. “I’m not playing with you Latoya.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are!” She’s in my face now. Great.

“Latoya, back off! This is ridiculous.” Michael held his hand out, pushing her away from me as he moved me to his side.

“I don’t give a shit! I’ll rip all the hair out of your damn head!” Her threat didn’t bother me, it wasn’t until she attempted to swing at me that I felt angry.

“I give a shit!” Michael reacted swiftly blocking her arm, pushing me behind him and shielding me. “You aren’t touching my wife!” Janet and Jermaine were on their feet now, holding their sister back. As much as I wanted to lash out I trusted my husband. It wouldn’t help for me to start screaming too, so I was more than happy to let him handle it.

“She’s been your wife for like a day.”

“It’s been two years!” Michael in between us, pushing her back again by her shoulders. “What the hell is your problem? Grow up!”

“My problem is that your wife is a fucking bitch!” She said loudly, it echoed through the house and everyone sat there quietly.

“Don’t fucking call her that!” Michael yelled, the air becoming thicker by the second. “If you think I’m—”

“That’s enough. The three of you come with me.” Katherine spoke, her tone was clear, she wasn’t asking.

Michael slid his hand across my lower back, resting it on my hip and pulling me closer to him. The walk was short and silent. Katherine opened the double doors leading to the library, pointing for us to enter. She slammed the door behind her once we all settled in.

“Now, I don’t know what the issue is and I don’t care. First off, you will not call anyone anything but their given name.” She pointed at her daughter. “And what in gods name has gotten into you making a scene like that in front of your young nephews, nieces and cousins?”

“Mom—” Latoya shot up from her seat with a wild energy.

“Did I say you could speak?” Katherine stopped her immediately, Latoya shrugged, sitting back down with a huff. “This has gone on long enough. I’ve tried to give you the space to figure it out yourselves, but it’s clear that isn’t happening. We aren’t leaving this room until we are all on the same page. Now, you may speak.”

“She’s rude and disrespectful. She laughed at me on national television.”

“No, she didn’t and I suggest you adjust your tone. I’m your mother. You need to speak to me with some respect.”

“Y/N—” Latoya shouted again.

“She spoke up for you and you know it. Which is more for you than I would’ve done if I were her. Latoya you’ve had it out for Y/N since Michael first brought her home to meet us.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“Latoya.” Michael cut in. When Latoya met her baby brother’s eyes she felt something tug at her heart and any lies she had prepared vanished.

“This is stupid.” She sat there pouting and all I could do was watch, because what the hell is wrong with her?

“Well, I have all day.” Katherine grinned. “This is your problem Latoya. The longer you take to spit it out the longer we will sit here.”

“You’ve always been rude to Y/N and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting with you, but if you insist on continuing to act like this, then so be it. I can match your attitude because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you or anyone else treat my wife like this.” Michael ranted, taking a deep breath. “She’s my wife. She makes me happy. She’s been nothing but respectful to you. She doesn’t deserve this. Latoya, we can only argue for so long until eventually our relationship becomes nonexistent— you’re my sister, but you’re crossing lines that are hurting our bond— things you’ve done, it’s beyond repair. And, honestly I’m slowly making my peace with that— not having any kind of relationship with you.”

“Little brother.” Latoya choked out, glossy eyes filled with pain. I felt awful. I never thought I’d hear Michael say anything like that.

“That’s how I feel. It bothered me so much because I didn’t understand why, but I’ve reached a point where I don’t care what your excuse is. I’m fed up. Mom, I’m sorry, but this isn’t fair to Y/N and I’m not going to make her sit through it any longer. I’m taking her home.” He rose to his feet, guiding me towards the door.

“Alright, baby boy. I understand.” I could tell she was disappointed in her daughter, but she looked at her son with such pride that it didn’t feel all that bad. “Go on. I love you, both of you. Come here honey.” She kissed my cheek and hugged me tightly. I loved her hugs. “I’m sorry about all of this. You’re a good girl.”

“Love you. It’s— no apologies necessary. See you soon mama.” Michael walked us out of the house quick like it was on fire. “Shouldn’t we say bye to everyone else?” He didn’t answer, not right away at least. He stopped walking halfway down the driveway, leaning forward and kissing me repeatedly.

“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I’m so sorry.” Kiss. “You’re.” Kiss. “The.” Kiss. “Most.” Kiss. “Amazing.” Kiss. “Woman.” Kiss. “Ever.” Kiss. “I don’t know how I tricked you into marrying me.”

“You didn’t trick me. And, it’s not your fault. None of this is you’re fault.”

“It’s my insane sister.”

“Exactly, it’s not your fault. It’s her— hopefully it’ll get better at some point.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m hopeful. It has to work out eventually.”

“I pray that you’re right.”

“I usually am, but until then I have you. And, you make a super sexy bodyguard.”

“You think so? Maybe I’ll switch professions so I could guard this lovely body every second of every day.” His flirtatious smile, causing my chest to tingle.

“I love you.” Kiss. “Most.” Kiss. “Perfect.” Kiss. “Man.” Kiss. “Ever.”

*Michael’s POV*

The pain of last nights events felt insignificant, waking up next to my beautiful wife, everything seemed to melt away. This, right here was all that mattered. Bliss.

“You always watch me sleep?” I watched her mumble through a sleepy smile.

“You always fake sleep?”

“I like lying next to you. Your bed head is cute.”

“You sleeping naked is cute.” I rolled onto of her, pushing her body deeper into the mattress.

“Are you trying to keep me in bed all day?”

“Yes.” My hips sunk in between her legs as I heard her sweet moan. The door bell rang before I could remove the sheet that was wrapped around her. “They’ll go away.” The bell rang again.

“It doesn’t sound like they’re leaving.”

“Well, then, they can wait. I only need two hours with you.”

“Two hours!” She laughed, the bell sounding two more times. “What are you planning to do to me?”

“Everything. I’m going to—” the bell rang again interrupting me. “Whoever is out there is about to get run over.”

“Relax. Just go check. You’re so grumpy.” She waved me off to go answer the door. I threw on a shirt and found some pants to wear.

“I’m grumpy because some jerk is ringing my doorbell while I’m trying to get handsy with my wife. Who wakes up this early to cockblock?” I heard her giggle as I left the room and ran down the stairs.

The doorbell continued vibrating the walls even when I unlocked the door and yanked it open.

“What the…” I was at a loss. I didn’t thinking my sister showing up was a possibility at all— just like I didn’t expect seeing her face to make me so angry.

“Hi brother.”

“Latoya, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you— both of you. If that’s okay? I want to apologize.”

“That’s not a good idea. Really, I don’t have the energy to deal with you today and I’m not comfortable letting you anywhere near my wife.”

“Please. I— look I wrote a letter. I figured you guys probably wouldn’t want to see me. I just needed to try, you know?” She held out an envelope and a big bouquet of flowers. “I’m so sorry. Please take it. Or I can leave it on your doormat if you don’t want to look at it just yet. These are for Y/N.”

“Alright.” I let out a deep breath and accepted what she brought. I figured the longer I fight her the longer she’d stay and I really didn’t want that.

“I’m sorry I hurt you little brother and I’m sorry for acting that way towards Y/N… I had no reason— no right.” She stepped back as I remained silent. I wasn’t ready to talk to her, so every word out her mouth felt meaningless to me. “Well, I’ll be going now.” I watched blankly as she turned away from me.

“Who was it?” My wife inquired as she descended the stairs. “My favorite flowers! Babe, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Actually, I didn’t. It was… um…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Latoya. She was just here.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. She brought all this for us and wrote you a letter.”

“Where is she?” She took the envelope from my hands, her fingers gliding across my sister’s handwriting.

“I didn’t let her in. I kind of made her leave.”

“Michael!” She pushed past me, running out the door in her robe. She didn’t even care that she was barefoot. I watched from our doorstep as Y/N knocked on my sister’s car window— I had no doubt in my mind that she was inviting her inside. They walked in and Y/N asked her to wait in the living room for us.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see her. I thought I was protecting you.”

“I know and I appreciate it, but she’s still your sister. She’s trying to make amends the least we could do is hear her out. She came all this way, I don’t think she’d do that just to argue.”

“You’re too good.” This woman is full of surprises. I held her hand as we walked off to join my sister, sitting across from her.

“I was jealous.” Latoya said, fiddling with her acrylic nails as she thought of what to say next. “Y/N, it felt like everyone welcomed you so easily. You were considered family overnight, which is beautiful because you’re with Michael, but it made me scared. It’s not an excuse. It’s not a good one. It’s just— I’m trying to explain. It all happened so fast.” I sensed my wife tense up and I hoped this was going somewhere that wouldn’t end in tears. “I didn’t know Y/N very well, then I started seeing less and less of my baby brother. Instead of getting to know you, I blamed you for taking him from me, which obviously isn’t the case and my behavior led to neither of you feeling comfortable around me. It was difficult to accept that I was to blame. And, I don’t know, Michael it feels like you’ve always needed me and suddenly you didn’t anymore. You found someone that’s a great fit and you didn’t need to lean on your big sister anymore, which is great, but I guess it happened faster than I expected. It’s no secret that the Jackson men haven’t had the best luck in their marriages, but Michael is different. I was afraid of someone using him or hurting him. I think I convinced myself I was standing up for you by being a total ass to Y/N. I don’t know. I was so focused on protecting Michael that I didn’t even allow myself to get to know the new Mrs. Jackson and I should’ve. Y/N, I wish I had the relationship with you that my siblings have, but by the time I realized that I’d done too much damage. I didn’t deserve to know you and I knew that. I just really, completely screwed everything up. Baby brother, you and I were the closest and I didn’t realize that my protectiveness over you had transformed into something so ugly. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo it all because you didn’t deserve it.” She sounded sincere, her hands intertwined in front of her chest as if she was begging for us to understand.

“That makes sense. It’s natural to feel protective as an older sibling. I love that Michael has so many people looking out for him.” Y/N spoke softly, leaning forward. “You’re a great sister and you thought— your actions were wrong, but I believe that it came from a good place. It just got a little lost in translation. I appreciate your apology and I’m hopeful that we can move on from this.”

“Really? Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’ve been a total bitch to you—”

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We can get through it.”

“I was so awful to you. I regret it. I regret all of it. I’d want nothing more than to make it up to you. Can I— is there a chance I could make up for this? It’d mean the world to me, but I understand if you don’t want that.”

“I’d love that.” I was in shock when my wife stood up, holding her arms out to hug my sister. It was gladly accepted. They hugged tight, crying into each other’s embrace.

“Thank you.” Latoya cried, it was a moment of healing for all of us and I was so grateful for it.

“Alright, quick hogging my wife.” I teased, when they broke apart I took Y/N’s place. “I’m happy you’re done being a pain in the ass.”

“I am. I promise.” We let go of each other with a new found sense of relief.

“Do you want to stay for a bit? I was going to make some brunch.” My wife offered. “You like crepes right?”

“Yes! I’d love to.” My sister responded and Y/N went off to the kitchen, leaving us alone.

“Thank you for hearing me out.” She seemed nervous again with my wife’s absence. “Thank you for the second chance. I won’t screw up again I promise.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s all her.” I nodded towards the direction my wife disappeared into. “She has this thing where she’s incapable of holding a grudge and family is very important to her. She’s been really patient waiting for you to come around.”

“She’s great. I mean it. I don’t know how she dealt with me being so… I can’t believe I behaved that way. She accepted my apology, but after everything I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never wanted to see me again.”

“It’s not in her nature to hold onto anger. She kept me from shaking some sense into you a few times too. I’m glad it didn’t come to that and you came around on your own. Or, as Tito would say, got the stick removed from up your butt.”

“He’s always saying the weirdest stuff.”

“I think I’m used to it because I feel like he makes great points. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s kind of a genius.” Our laughter echoed through the room and I slowly felt myself letting go of the anger. It would take time, but I knew things would get better and eventually it’d feel normal.

“I’m proud of you. I’m glad you found someone who takes such good care of you. She’s perfect for you. She’s a nice addition to our family.”

“She is.”

“So, little brother, how’d you lock her down? She’s so much cooler than you.” Her voice softened as she tried to lighten the mood.

“I have no idea.” I shrugged, talking lazy steps toward the kitchen as my sister followed from beside me. “She’s way out of my league.”

“I’m glad you said it.”

“Shut up. Your voice is still annoying.” I joked, she punched my arm softly, then joined my wife by the stove and tried to help the best she could.

#michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson fanfic #michael jackson imagines

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