#whoah you go big guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jebewonmorelike · 1 year

Text

Young and Rich, Tall and Just Ask Me Out Already

wc: 2.1k pronouns: n/a; none used warnings: none really? maybe the tiniest bit of angst... fluff... and i used the word d*ck once, my bad also you can pretend they're in college or high school, doesn't really matter summary: prepschool!ricky/richboy!ricky just can't get scholarshipkid!reader to go out with him no matter how many helicopters he lands in the school courtyard ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys... whoah... rich-boy-with-a-soft-side ricky just kind of hits different? i must say i outdid myself with this one so please, please, please enjoy :)

Ricky has been trying to convince you to go on a date with him for two weeks now.

The first time he asked you was after Chemistry one afternoon. You had been assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the semester and shared a desk during class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1:10 to 2:40 P.M.

At first, you'd found it kind of difficult to relate to Ricky. His dad was a CEO at some big tech company and he didn't really let anyone forget it. Always flaunting his designer watch with the newest phone model in hand, entire classes full of students couldn't help but fall for him as he draped his Louis Vuitton jacket casually over one shoulder.

But you were just "the scholarship kid". A humble upbringing and a borderline genius IQ, attending this prep academy was an opportunity you and your family could never have turned down.

Working on labs with Ricky wasn't difficult-- mainly because he let you do all the work while he listened to music and played on his phone. But if you were being honest, you didn't really mind. You enjoyed working on the labs at your own (fast) pace and you didn't have to worry about a lab partner messing up your data.

You never disliked Ricky. But you also could never really figure out what to say to him when he talked so expensive and acted so expensive...

And looked so expensive.

But after a few weeks of silent lab work together (and a handful of flunked quizzes returned to Ricky's desk), the tall blonde suddenly turned to you with his latest graded test in hand.

"What did you get?" He asked, eyes peering over to try to get a glimpse at your paper.

"Oh, um..." You placed it flat on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise. "105? Again!?"

"What do you mean 'again'? How do you know that?" You questioned, looking back at him suspiciously.

He completely ignored your question. "There wasn't even a bonus question on this one! Where did the extra points come from?"

"The mini-essay I submitted last night on chemical kinetics."

He stared at you for a moment. "You're kind of weird, you know that?"

You nodded. "I guess you would think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you want me to help you or not? I would think calling me weird wouldn't really help persuade me," you quipped, snatching his test from his hand and reading the grade circled in red pen: 63.

"Hey! Don't--," he protested, trying to steal the paper back to no avail as you slid it into your bag and zipped it closed. "I didn't even ask you for help yet."

"You were obviously going to. You've barely said one word to me in four weeks, so. I'm pretty sure you weren't just making friendly conversation."

Ricky blinked back at you silently for a moment. "It's not like you've said anything to me either."

"I'll look over your test to see what you need to improve on. Do you have the rest of the quizzes from this month with you?" You asked quickly, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder as the bell rang.

"Uh, no I don't," he admitted, not making any move to get up now that class had ended.

"Okay, well--."

"But I'll bring them tonight. To the library," he interrupted.

You stood there silently, not really sure what to say.

"Be there at 9," he said definitively, a grin suddenly spreading across his face as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and started walking towards the door.

"You--... Do you think I don't have a life or something? I... What if I had plans!?"

"You did not have plans," he said with a laugh. Just before he walked out the door, he turned over his shoulder to add, "But now you do. With me."

It was like that, how you started tutoring Ricky late nights at the library. You met after 9 P.M. the days that you had class together, going over the material you'd covered that afternoon. He was a surprisingly passable student and you started to wonder if failing his classes was somehow intentional. He started offering to help you with lab work as the weeks went on, messing up detrimentally only a handful of times but you did appreciate his effort if nothing else.

Your tutoring was definitely helping; Ricky's quizzes came back now with passing grades that had even once reached the height of a 91. But what you didn't want Ricky to know was that he was helping you, too.

He had been right that day: you hadn't had any plans that night. And you rarely did. It was hard to fit in with the other students at your school when they had all led such different lives than you. You could have never guessed in a million years that Ricky would eventually become something like your friend.

Ricky made you laugh. He sharpened your pencils for you. He brought you snacks you liked. He'd let you borrow his Nintendo Switch for the day, as long as you promised to give it back to him in class. You hated to admit it, but a few weeks into your tutoring sessions and there was much less studying going on than was originally intended.

And another thing you hated (not really) to admit: you liked Ricky.

Sure, he could be a little overconfident. A little braggadocios. A little too reliant on his daddy's money.

But late at night in the library, you both grew tired together and the sleep deprivation gave way to a much more vulnerable Ricky. He'd tell you about his family, his childhood, his favorite things, his troubles, his dreams... and he'd listen carefully to you when you shared yours, too.

One time, after sharing a surprisingly upsetting childhood memory involving his father, you could see Ricky's eyes start to water. He tried to brush it off, adjusting his watch as the walls of the persona began to build back up in defense. But before you could stop yourself, your hand had reached across the table and landed on top of his.

He stared at it for awhile before looking up to meet your eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, swallowing with uncertainty.

You removed your hand and placed it back in your lap. "Sorry," you replied awkwardly.

"No, no, you're cute," he said quickly, a hand flying to cover his mouth when he saw the expression on your face and realized what he had said. "I--I--... I meant 'cool'. Like... Like I meant to say 'you're cool', as in, like, 'don't worry about it'."

His babbling just made you smile. "Freudian slip?"

"Exactly," he agreed hastily. "Wait, no!"

"Too late, no take backs," you blurt, flipping your textbook to the next page to continue with your notes. Your heart absolutely raced inside your chest when you heard Ricky lightly breathe out a laugh before following your lead and resuming his note-taking.

Ricky certainly had a public image he wanted to portray, but whenever he gave you a glimpse underneath the facade... that was when you couldn't help but fall.

So when he asked you out for the first time, sun shining as you walked together from Chemistry to the student lounge on a Friday afternoon, your stomach absolutely flipped with excitement.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner," Ricky said, hand combing through his blonde, coiffed hair.

"Like--... Like on a date?" You clarified, looking up at him to try to read his expression. But much to your dismay, he was looking straight ahead, not at you.

"Yeah," he responded flippantly, hands finding his pockets. "There's this new place that opened downtown that's, like, mega exclusive. Figured you can't say no to that."

"No."

"Exactly... Wait, what?" Ricky stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No thanks," you repeated. Looking at him now, you could tell exactly who was standing in front of you. No matter how much you liked Ricky, you didn't want to go on a date with this persona of his.

You wanted to go on a date with Ricky.

"Oh..." He replied, shock written all over his face. He swallowed hard and you swore you could see his cheeks start to redden with embarrassment.

"I really like you, Ricky," you clarified with a smile as you watched his eyebrows shoot up at the confession. "But no thank you."

You didn't wait around to field any possible questions. Turning on your heels, you headed off in the direction of your dorm leaving Ricky absolutely dumbfounded in the campus courtyard.

The next time he asked you out, it was in the hallway before class the following Monday. He handed you a small, light blue gift box, his eyes looking everywhere except at you.

You suppressed a smile, opening the box to find a dainty, rose gold bangle with the signature Tiffany T-shaped cuff ends. After having a mini heart attack over how much the bracelet in your hands must've cost, you took a deep breath to maintain your composure.

"I can't accept this," you managed, though you had to admit you were a bit sad to refuse it (and to refuse him a second time).

Ricky stared back at you, absolutely astonished. "Why... Why not?"

"I really like you, Ricky," you confessed again. "But I'll have to say no thank you."

As your professor called for everyone to take their seats, you hurried inside the classroom and left Ricky to trail in behind you completely stunned once more.

Ricky has asked you out about eight more times since that day. Each time, the simple question is skirted around and instead replaced with more and more elaborate and expensive gestures.

Now, it's 9:30 on a Friday night and you're typing away on your laptop, working on a paper that isn't due until the end of the semester when Ricky bursts through the doors of the library and darts straight towards your usual table.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He blurts out, catching his breath as he stands in front of you waiting for an answer. His hair falls boyishly across his forehead and he's dressed in a a hoodie and black joggers. You get the impression he had rushed here suddenly without any preparation and he looks so stupid cute.

"No," you reply, chewing on your cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Are you interested in men?"

"Unfortunately."

"You keep saying you like me and then you refuse to go out with me. Do you like me?" He asks, a little too loud for a library, but you're both lucky there's no one else that would be studying on a Friday night.

"I do," you confirm, watching as his eyes grow a bit more pleading as he wrestles with his own confusion.

"Then... Please... Will you please go out with me? I like spending time with you so much. I like talking to you so much. I really, really like you, (Y/N). Will you please just give me a chance?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Yeah, I get it, I get--." Ricky's eyes suddenly light up as he realizes what you said. "REALLY?"

You nod, biting your lip in a satisfied smile and throwing your laptop into your backpack. "Let's go right now!"

He blinks quickly, following you as you stand up and walk towards the door. "Right now? But you--."

"Ricky, I don't really have any time to waste. I've been waiting for you to ask me out for two weeks now! Can you blame me for being a bit eager?"

"What... what do you mean? I've asked you out, like, a dozen times," he says as you step outside into the cool evening air, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

You smile up at him. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I--," he starts to protest, but you cut him off.

"You've told me you're taking me to an exclusive restaurant. You've bought me designer jewelry. You've given me an autographed poster from WayV. You've hired the Vienna Philharmonic to play at the student lounge. You've landed a helicopter in the middle of the courtyard..."

You watch as realization begins to wash over his face. His mouth hangs open a bit as he processes his numerous missteps. Then, a hand finds its way to the back of his neck as he smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh."

"So I've been waiting very patiently, you see."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he says with a smile, and then more solemnly he adds, "And I'm really sorry for being a total dick."

"Well, you're in luck. The only way to make it up to me is to get late night pancakes with me. And it just so happens, that I am incredibly hungry right now," you say, taking his hand and starting to pull him in the direction of the parking lot.

Ricky laces your fingers together as he falls in step with you. "Oh! I know the best place for pancakes, it's--."

You clear your throat and he stops his thought in its tracks.

"The diner?" He asks, looking to you for approval.

You nod, giggling back at him. "The diner."

515 notes · View notes

sex-storytime · 7 months

Text

Raven

It was finally Friday and I would once again charge forth bravely into the night searching for love or at least a good time; to embark with the boldest intentions and the most optimistic outlook. I wouldn't be so shy this time and I'd get out and meet people and have fun. I'd find love, or at least a lover right? Sure... Well at least I'd have a few beers and watch other more confident guys do just that.

My plan was the same flawless failure I've always employed: hanging out at the local bar! I liked to show up early, around 8:30 I guess. Many of the regulars were there early and you could cruise around and exchange greetings before the out-of-towners and once-in-a-whilers showed up and packed the place. Some people might think it was weird that I would go there alone, but I wasn't alone if I knew 10-15 people in the bar (which I usually did). I wasn't like a "Hey NORM!" kind of guy, but I did get "hey," and "yo" (which came with the obligatory 3-part handshake/finger-clasp/fist-punch 'homey' greeting), so that was cool...

I strolled in at my usual time, scanned the bar, and there she was. Whoah. There were times when for whatever inexplicable reason, stunningly beautiful women would bless the bar with their presence. She was a fine example. I could immediately sense the tension around her. At this point, the clientele in the bar was comprised of people in a relationship or hapless dorks like me. For now, her beauty helped radiate an aura of intimidation that kept everyone at a safe distance.

She looked to be about twenty-five. Her skin was porcelain which contrasted the dark waves of raven hair falling down to the middle of her back. She sat neatly cross-legged on the barstool wearing a silky brown number that was low cut in the front, even lower cut in the back, and only went down just a little ways past her hips. She wore sparkling high heels with straps that wrapped halfway up her well-toned calves. She had several large metal bracelets on each arm and her ears were adorned ornate feathered earrings. Freckles covered the tops of her arms, back, and presumably chest and face (I couldn't see that yet). I drank in the sight of her in the spare second I had while I was casually scanning the room. The next second, my eyes fell on her friend.

Ah yes, the ultimate armor: the heavier-set, shorter, but still kind-of-cute best friend. Now I'm no ladies man, but I know the setup. I've seen it plenty of times in this place. It was like watching National Geographic. The antelope must band together to fend off attacks from the pouncing solitary tigers. Now I immediately knew that gorgeous woman was way out of my league, but I relished the opportunity to watch her as well as the drama that was likely to unfold around her.

I bellied up to the bar down the way from her so I could see her face. Yep, she had freckles. She was very pretty though - big eyes. They looked green to me; maybe hazel. Then she smiled at her friend. Wow, nice white teeth - very pretty smile. The edges of her lips formed a cute little crease that betrayed the slightest aging of her skin. She then turned her head my way. Her eyes settled on mine for just a second, and her smile lingered for just a second, before moving on. She saw me. She thought I was worth a look. She did right? Okay, I wasn't really sure.

I mean, who was I kidding? Here I was, a thirty-four year old guy of average height. I still had my dusty blonde straw-like hair, wild as always. I've drunk plenty of beer in my time and had a bit of a gut to show for it. It wasn't too bad though. I hid it well by wearing hemmed button-up shirts and a decent pair of slacks. I dusted myself in Obsession (for men), and I'm sure that helped too. While I've always thought my face was kind of doofy looking I've had girls tell me I was cute in a Simon Pegg kind of way.

It didn't matter though; I wasn't going to try to talk to her. Not now anyway. Maybe, after I've slurped a couple more pints of liquid courage. Maybe, if I could get her attention again. Maybe... But for the time being, I just ordered a beer and made the rounds saying "hi" to my friends and acquaintances.

I ended up sitting with Linda and Gary, an older married couple. They were pretty cool. I just chilled with my beer, listened to the music (which was of the slower tempo, not-ready-to-light-the-dance floor variety), and occasionally stole glances at the pale beauty sitting at the bar across from me, back turned. I hadn't even finished my first beer when her friend suddenly got up, calmly grabbed her purse, and left the bar. I was a little surprised. Surely she was just going to the car to grab something, right? She'd be right back.

I downed the rest of my beer and headed back up to the bar. Maybe I could make eye contact again. Maybe I'd even figure out if her friend was coming back. I stood at the end of the bar and casually stared in her direction, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She seemed very composed, but a little nervous too. The expression on her face was very... business-like. Wow, I maybe she WAS alone. Just then she glanced up and caught my eye again. She lingered this time, for a half second, maybe even a whole second. It was just long enough for me to start getting scared wondering who would break contact first. Her lip starts to curl. She was going to smile at me! And then HE slid in and cut off her view from me.

Cock block! Well, I didn't have any claim, but still... she was going to smile at me! Grrr... Instead she turned her head up and fired off the half-cocked smile at him. Great. I didn't even see him come in. I took a quick look around and realized that the bar was starting to fill up. He must've been a recent arrival. What a classic douche: over 6 foot tall, pink shirt with a popped collar, and a white baseball cap cocked to the side in that schmucky I'm-too-cool-to-wear-clothes-normally fashion. He propped himself up on the bar, scooted right into her personal space, leaned in, and started talking into her ear. I hated him already.

I tried to watch her reaction to him. She seemed mildly (or was it politely?) interested in him. He bought her a drink. It looked like a cranberry and vodka. She daintily sipped it through the two coffee straws parked in the ice. Alas... another fine specimen lost to douchebaggery. I ordered another beer and headed back to my table. By this time, the lights had been turned a little lower, the disco ball was lit up, and the dance music began cranking through the speakers. I really did think that Kanye West Gold Digger song was pretty cool – the first twenty times I heard it.

Linda and Gary got up a couple times to dance. It was always hilarious to see an older couple shaking it to hip hop and modern pop songs. Meanwhile, I kept tracking back to my prized eye-candy for the evening. She was still sitting at the bar. Her friend never came back. The douche was still hanging around too. Clearly, he was trying to monopolize her attention. She seemed polite, but I couldn't really tell if she was enjoying herself or not. It looked like she was still nursing the first drink he bought her.

As was usually the case, the more beer I drank, the faster I drank it. Needing another refill, I sauntered up to the bar. This time I boldly decided to park myself right next to her. As I looked around, I realized that the bar was getting pretty full. The bartender was literally running back and forth behind the bar to fill orders. Okay, it was more like a half-assed jog, but you get my point. Her back was still turned to me because the douche was demanding her attention, carrying on about something – probably the size of the stereo in his rice burner. So I just patiently waited for my turn to order, trying to look cool.

The bartender caught my eye and I raised my empty glass to indicate I wanted another beer. He starts walking over towards the tap when the douche flags him down with some other order. Damn! I got bartender-blocked too! Before I could mope to myself, I realized my luck had just turned. With the frat-boy's attention set on the bartender, the pale beauty I'd been admiring all night finally turned around and noticed me standing there. Those big bright green eyes sized me up and in a heartbeat she fired off that smile again. She'd been saving it!

"Hi," she said sweetly.

"Um, hi," I responded in my best oh-yeah-I'm-cool manner. With her eyes on me, I looked over her shoulder at Pepto-Biff-Tannen and did my best impression of him trying to lean-swagger so hard against the bar while pantomiming the turn of an imaginary cap on my head.. She let out a little giggle and I smiled back, genuinely this time. Taking it further, I hammed it up pretending to flip up a non-existent collar while giving her the wankster "what's up" shrug of my head. She got her hand up to her face just in time to snort as sudden convulsions of silent laughter bounced her body up and down.

She locked eyes with me and then turned her head to take a knowing stare at Yacht-club-dropout who was still oblivious to our impromptu mockery. Her eyes flashed and that smile came firing out again. It was clear a mischievous thought had come to her mind. She pulled the straws out of her drink, gulped the rest of it, and set the glass down on the counter.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked me, looking me straight in the eye almost as if it were a command instead of an entreaty.

I was shocked. Really? She wanted to dance with me? What I really couldn't believe was that the next thought to enter my mind was, 'but I haven't gotten my beer yet.' Like waiting even another second for Preppy-Billy-Zabka to turn back around was advisable. Fortunately, I come to my senses quickly.

"Sure," I replied with an air of faux nonchalance, setting my empty mug down.

I took her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor. Lost Without U by Robin Thicke was playing. Perfect. As we get onto the dance floor, I realized how tall she was. I'm 5'10, and with those heels, she was just a bit taller than me. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck, content to dance close to me. I put my hands on the small of her back and leaned in to smell her hair. Mmm... very floral, perhaps a hint of vanilla. I breathed it in deeply, feeling it stir jittery butterflies in my core. One of her hands slid down my back as she stepped in a bit closer. A trail of goose bumps burrowed its way down my arm.

After about a minute of this pure bliss, she leaned back a bit and smiled, "Sorry about dragging you out here like that. I really needed to get away from that guy."

Yeah, it was a REAL inconvenience to have to dance closely with such an attractive woman. "Sure, no problem," I replied casually.

Reminded of the alpha-jock-archetype, I glanced back over at the bar to see him leaning back watching us, clearly fuming. "Yeah, your man-friend back there doesn't look too happy."

She tilted her head back a bit and rolled her eyes, "Ughh," before stepping back in to dance close again.

We dance for a few moments more. As I watch her expressions, it was clear was scheming about something. Then, as if an epiphany struck, her eyes lit up and she smiled that big, deadly smile at me, "Hey, can I ask you a favor?"

Anything. ANYTHING! I'll do anything for you.

"What?" I ask.

"Would you be my boyfriend?"

Huh?

"Your boyfriend? Wow, you move fast," I replied almost hoping she really did move that fast.

"No no no silly... You know..." she made air-quotes with her hands in front of my face before wrapping them back around my neck, "a 'boyfriend'. So I don't have to put up with creeps like that guy back there."

Oh... a pretend boyfriend. Got it.

"Oh I see what you mean," I replied pausing, only not to seem too eager, "Sure, I can do that."

I'm all smiles now. Of COURSE I can do that. When the song ended, I lead her back to my table and we sat down with Gary and Linda. I politely flagged down the waitress and ordered the next round of beers and cranberry-vodka.

We talked. I learned that her name was Brandy and recited 'Brandy Brandy Brandy!' a thousand times silently in my head to lock it in. I also learned that she was a receptionist at a local business that sells parts for industrial manufacturing or something like that. She revealed that her friend had to leave because she worked early the next day. Brandy was going to leave too, but it'd been so long since she's been out that she decided to stay. She leaned over and told me she almost regretted the decision because of the pink-narcissus. It turned out that her polite attitude towards him was just that: being polite to some random creepy guy.

I started rattling off some of my euphemisms for guys like him and she snorts again in laughter. "Ha ha!" she giggles, putting her hand on my leg, "Pepto-Biff-Tannen! That's hilarious! He kept going on and on about all the offroading he does, blah blah blah."

I also learned that Brandy was no slouch in the drinking department. It took her nearly an hour to finish her first cranberry and vodka. It only took her another hour to finish the next three. With each drink she became more open and vibrant. She laughed more often. She touched me more often. I didn't know if she was simply maintaining the ruse of us as a couple for onlookers, or if that's simply how she was. Mr-Overcompensates was still prowling around the bar. He'd moved to hitting on other women, but he was still keeping an eye on us.

And then Sexyback came on over the speakers and she DRAGGED me out onto the dance floor. Immediately, Brandy turned around, backed up her tush and started repeatedly slapping it against my pelvis while lifting her hair with both hands and letting it fall onto her shoulders. She was having a great time. More importantly, she was having a great time with ME!

At this point, I just tried to stand there and look cool, maybe swaying a bit to the beat. There was an audience of other men watching her, lust in their eyes. Other couples were on the dance floor, but the spotlight might as well have been on Brandy.

She turned around, placed her hands on my sides and went into a full squat. Perching on those heels with her legs fully folded, she parked her face right in front of my crotch. Now I had sprung wood the moment her rear had slammed into me the first time. It couldn't be helped. I'm sure she knew. How could she not? And now she was taking a good look at her handy work. On her way back up, she nudged my belly with her head, waving her hair all around. I looked down to see a lustful, pouty, open-mouthed look dancing on her face.

It was a very sexy routine. I couldn't tell if she'd practiced it before. Her technique wasn't flawless, but her enthusiasm was excellent. I put my arms around her and pulled her in close for some more intimate dancing. I ran my hand up her neck through her hair and then wrapped it around her head, massaging the lobe of her ear with my thumb. I wrapped my other arm around her and held her close. Our hips worked frantically, trying to grind the beat into each other. My manhood was at full attention and lasciviously pressing itself into her belly. She had to know it was there and seemed to relish focusing her rhythmic bodily contact at that point.

We ground our way lustily through the next song as well. Sometimes we changed position, but we were always rubbing hips. It was like we were having sex... with our clothes on... with an audience. Thanks to Brandy's provocative gyrations, I had a few moments where I wondered if I could 'contain' the excitement boiling in my pants. The dancing was hard work too. Pretty soon we had both built up a steady moisture and were wiping sheen from our brows. She looked much sexier doing so than I did.

When the song ended, we got off the dance floor and she planted a long wet kiss on my cheek. Then she laughed and said, "That was fun."

The musk of her glow had combined well with the scent of her perfume. She smelled intoxicating. It was like she'd been switched on. I imagined that she would smell equally great after making love. Hell, we'd just practically made love in all but the penetration and climax.

As I lead her back to our table, I couldn't help it. I had to blurt it out, "I like you. You're fun."

My sentiment came out completely childish, but she just smiled back and said, "I like you too!"

And so the night went on. She laughed at my corny jokes and when a good song came on, she dragged me back out onto the dance floor for another workout. When the DJ called last-call for alcohol, she was clearly disappointed, "Oh... So soon? But I'm not ready to go home yet!"

As luck would have it, I knew of an after-party that a couple of the bar-regulars held routinely. I was a little leery of suggesting it to her as I knew we would be greatly outnumbered by other guys, but it didn't matter. As soon as I mentioned it she jumped at the idea, "Let's go! Can you drive?"

So we decided to go. I could tell upon arrival that Brandy was not impressed. The house had a very run-down frat feeling to it. She stayed close to my side as we walked into the shabby living room and I exchanged greetings with a few guys I knew. Then we grabbed a couple cans of Icehouse beer (yum-yum! – NOT) and parked it on one of the beat-up couches. She sat on my lap and wrapped an arm around my neck. Based on her trepidation, I wasn't sure if she was really that into me, or just leery of EVERYONE else at the house. There was dance music playing and a few of the girls who showed up were dancing/stumbling around in the living room. Brandy seemed content to stay seated on my lap, rocking a bit to the beat. Of course, her proximity and steady rocking motion guaranteed my perpetual hard-on would last, frustrated to the early morning hours. There was no way she couldn't have noticed, but she never said anything. Instead, she just continued smiling and nuzzling her butt into my lap.

The upbeat energy of dancing and drinking at the club had not carried over successfully to the afterparty and before long, I could see the late hour and the alcohol taking its toll on Brandy. She'd curled her legs up and was resting her head on my shoulders. As much as I enjoyed the cuddle and stroking her long dark hair, my concern for her wellbeing eventually took over.

"Had enough fun for tonight?" I inquire, brushing a strand of hair away from her pretty face.

It wasn't meant to be a loaded question, but I was almost hoping she would say 'Not yet! I'm saving the best for last!' or something to that effect. Instead, she just nods her head and mumbles out an "Mmm hmm."

"Ok," I whispered close into her ear. "Is it okay if we leave your car at the bar for tonight?"

"No car. Took a cab."

"Oh, okay. Well I can drive you home if you want. Where do you live?"

"Aw... can't we go to your house?" she purred, running her finger down my chest.

Suddenly, I had gone from 'boyfriend' to BOYFRIEND. I feel a little guilty because I know she'd had too much to drink, but how can I refuse an offer like that?

She seemed to come alive suddenly and stood up off the couch reaching her hand out to me. Then she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "Come on loverboy! Take me home!" which drew immediate ogling "Oooooohhh's" from everyone in the vicinity. A couple of my friends gave me the whistle-wink-thumbs-up routine, knowing that for me to leave the party with a pretty woman on my arm was a rare thing indeed.

So I grabbed her jacket off the couch and hurried her out of the house to a cacophony of catcalls. She giggled the whole way. Once we were in the car, she turned to me, leaned over, and planted a wet kiss on my cheek.

"I had soooo much fun tonight! Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I replied warmly. "I had fun too."

Then her mood quickly turned sad. "I have a confession to make though," she frowned.

Uh oh, here it came. "What's that?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and sighed loudly, "I have a boyfriend."

All I could think was, 'What the fuck?'

"You mean other than your current 'boyfriend'?" I ask, referring to myself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. ...I do. He doesn't like to go out," she sighs again, "I had a great time though."

Me too. I was certainly disappointed, but compared to any other Friday night in my life, this was still a top-tier evening. So I sucked it up and tried to make the best of it.

"Oh... so do you want me to just drive you home then?"

"Um well, he thinks I'm at my girlfriends tonight... Would you mind if I stayed with you?"

"Um..." I stuttered, not sure what to think.

"I'm sorry if I'm putting you out."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind," I replied, trying to hide my confusion. Why had she told me she had a boyfriend and then asked to stay over? Was this her way of politely backing out of any further intimacy?

"Okay, okay... but NOTHING's going to happen," she said while wagging her finger in a no-no pattern, "You understand that right?"

Sure I understood. I had a universal signal I briefly pondered giving her replete with a nice boot out the car door. 'Think about that while you're walking home!' But I couldn't do that. I was a nice guy, and up until this point, I'd had a really fun evening. So I just mentally prepared for the inevitable frustrating end to our evening and replied as politely as I could.

"Yeah, sure. I even have a spare bedroom."

"You do? Perfect! Thank you so much! You're so nice to me..."

Nice? Uh oh. Friend Zone.

The drive home was quiet. She cuddled up and turned away from me in her seat and appeared to be asleep. When we arrived at my house, I had to open the door and help her out of the car.

With her arm around my shoulder and my arm around her waist, I helped her inside and up the stairs. Despite the recent turn of events, I still got goosebumps from feeling her pressed against me and smelling her hair.

"You have a nice... house," she mumbled.

"Thanks," I said as we crested the stairs.

I got her into the spare bedroom where my mother would stay when she came to town. I hadn't washed the sheets yet from Mom's last visit, but at least the bed was made (thanks Mom). I flicked on the light and showed Brandy in.

She looked around and smiled, "This will do nicely."

With that, she shuffled over to the bed, sat down and began undoing the straps of her high heels. I stood in the doorway, ready to offer assistance if she needed it. She didn't. A moment later her shoes were off and she stood up. For the first time tonight, she was shorter than me.

Then she looked at me, smiled, and reached down to grab the hem of her dress. In one quick motion she flipped it up over her hips revealing a lacy blue thong beneath. It was happening so quickly, I didn't even think to turn away. A couple of wiggles later, she had the entire dress up over her head, exposing a cute lacy blue bra lifting up her small, pert breasts. The dress fell to the floor and she immediately set about unfastening her bra. It fell away easily as well.

There Brandy stood before me wearing only a tiny thong. Her demeanor suggested that being nearly naked before me was perfectly normal. She made a big show of stretching as she lifted her arms over her head and yawned, her breasts rising and falling before me. Then winked at me, turned around, wiggled her tush, and began peeling back the covers on my bed.

Then the show was over as quickly as it had begun. She climbed into the bed, pulled up the covers tight, and let out a long sigh.

"Can you turn out the lights?"

"Okay, um... goodnight then."

"Night night!"

Bewildered, I turned off the light, closed the door, and shuffled off to my own bedroom. It was 4 am by this time, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Instead, I just laid in bed thinking to myself over and over, 'What the hell? There is a beautiful, nearly-naked woman in my own house yet I'm sleeping alone. What the hell? We danced. We hugged. I smelled her perfume. I played with her hair. She flirted with me the WHOLE time, yet here I am still sleeping alone. WHAT THE HELL?'

My thoughts wandered to her innocent little strip tease, the image of her lithe, fabulous body was burned into my brain. I imagined that instead of turning me away, she had continued to tease me. After undressing, she would lay back on the bed and begin rubbing herself through her panties while tweaking a nipple with her free hand.

"I had so much fun tonight," she would say. "Dancing all night, holding you close. Rubbing up against your hard cock..."

Then I would go to the side of the bed, sit on the edge, and watch her continue to rub herself and talk dirty to me...

"Yes, I know I made you hard... and I liked it. I kept you hard all night, rubbing my ass against you on the dance floor... Sitting on your lap and wiggling against your dick. I could tell it was big too. I liked that."

I would say nothing, instead continuing to watch her hand rub circles on the front of her panties. Maybe I would put a hand on her leg and gently pet her thigh...

"I've been wondering all night how your cock would feel in my pussy. Rubbing and dancing and holding you close... It's made me so wet. Can you see it?"

She would then lift her hand away from her mound, grabbing the top of her thong and pulling it tight against her sex. It was quite evident that her pussy was engorged, soaking through the front of her panties...

My lewd thoughts of Brandy had finally become more than I could stand. I had my hand down in my boxers, gently stroking myself as I fantasized about what would happen next. I was getting pretty into it when I heard a knock at my bedroom door. Brandy's almost child-like voice called out my name tentatively.

Embarrassed, I whipped my hand back out of my boxers and rolled over onto my belly. Like modesty mattered at this point.

"Yes?" I replied.

The door opened slightly, and through the shadows I could make out her sticking her head in.

"It's really cold in there."

Then I remembered that I had closed the vents in the ceiling of the spare bedroom to save on heating costs. "Oh, right... I'm sorry. The vents are closed. I can open them for you." I started to get out of bed but then hesitated when I realized she'd see my tented, wet-spot appointed boxers.

Perhaps she misread my hesitation, but she saved me. "No, that's okay," she said, slipping inside the doorway with her arms folded across her naked chest. "I was actually... I was wondering if I could maybe stay with you?"

A thousand questions ran through my head, but I only needed one answer, "Um, sure."

I saw her figure hurriedly approach in the moonlight as I pulled the covers aside and made room. She climbed in quickly and snuggled up against me. Eager to touch her again, I was surprised by how cold her skin was.

"Brrr..." she shivered.

I wrapped my arms around her and we settled into a spooning position. Once again, her butt was pressed into my crotch. A little chagrined, I wasn't sure what to do or think next. Do I just try to fall asleep with this gorgeous woman in my arms? Do I make a move? Would I be taking advantage of her? What the hell?

"Hmmm..." she purred, "You're warm."

And with that, she went still. Soon, her breathing becomes the measured in and out of a woman comfortably asleep.

I laid still with her in my arms for as long as I could. Though it was probably only minutes, it felt like I had held myself politely still for hours. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. I slowly began to run my hand down her thigh, lingering on her butt just long enough to caress it and then back down again.

I did this for about two minutes before she sighed and rolled forward onto her tummy. My hand froze, but her breathing stayed calm and measured. So my hand began wandering again, down her thigh and then up over her cute little butt to caress her back. I continued tentatively exploring Brandy's body, savoring the feel of her smooth naked skin.

I heard what I would have described as a contented mumble as I slid my hand back down her back. Her butt wiggled slightly and her legs spread apart. Her skin had quickly gone from cold to warm.

Emboldened, I took extra time caressing her butt on the next pass. I even went so far as to grab a handful and squeeze gently.

I was just about to move on to caressing her thigh when her hand snaked out and slapped mine.

'Uh oh,' I think to myself, 'I'm in trouble now.'

But instead of admonishing me further, her hand moved off of mine and down between the fabric of her panties and the fleshy crevasse of her butt. Grabbing a bunch of material, she yanked her thong upwards, pushing the lips of her sex aside as her wet gusset slid between.

She let out a contented sigh as I watched her, frozen with nervous excitement. After a brief tug, her hand let go, went limp again, and then slowly retreated back under her pillow. I was so surprised I didn't move, unsure of what had just happened. Was that deliberate or was she acting out in her sleep?

I slowly moved the covers aside and looked at her in the moonlight. I could barely make out her lips peeking out of either side of her stretched thong.

I was so entranced by the sight of her sex in the pale light, I simply sat there and stared at it. Moments passed quietly as I gazed upon her, transfixed. As if she had become impatient, her butt started to wiggle again. Snapping back into the moment, I took her gesture as an invitation. I reached my hand back down to caress her butt. My touch was met with a muted sigh of contentment.

Encouraged, I moved from slowly from rubbing her cheeks to slipping my fingers down under her thong, just as she had moments before. This elicited another contented sigh as my fingers immediately felt her wetness. I used my pointer finger to peel aside her thong while my middle finger caressed her sex.

I felt her hips shift as she pressed subtly back against my hand. What sort of game was this we were playing? Was she really asleep and reacting as if in a dream, or was she merely pretending to be asleep as part of some odd ploy to avoid responsibility for whatever was going to happen next? Either way, her body very much wanted me to continue. As I slipped my hand further down into her crotch, I used my fingers to spread her sex. It opened easily: wet, warm, and inviting.

Holding her thong aside with my thumb, I began running my two fingers up and down her labia. She continued subtly gyrating her hips and moaning softly into the pillow as I stroked her pussy and slipped a finger inside. Keeping my right hand working on her sex, I used my free hand to prop myself up onto my knees and straddled myself over her.

My hardon had never subsided, but my need felt more urgent now than it had all night. I fished out my erect penis from the slit in my boxers and began lazily stroking myself as I continued to administer to her wet, increasingly needy crevasse with my now sopping fingers.

I was incredibly turned on by our "unconscious" role play. I wanted to be inside her so badly. Would she allow the game to go that far? Was it what she wanted? At this point, what could it hurt to try and find out? I gently slid my fingers away from her sex, painting a wet trail on her bare as cheeks.

I paused a moment to see what she would do when I stopped playing with her pussy. For a few moments: nothing. Then I heard a muffled whimper as her ass wiggled again. She wanted more.

I sat up a bit more so I could work my boxers over my hips, springing free my engorged prick. I then carefully worked my underwear down past my knees and off. Brandi continued to whine and wiggle her tush almost as if she knew what I was about to do and couldn't wait.

I grabbed my cock and stroked it a couple more times as I squatted back down onto the back of her thighs. I aimed myself at her exposed sex and rested my head just above the entrance to her vagina.

She wiggled her butt again, swirling my cockhead around in her juices. I worked my hips with her gyrations to prevent her from slipping inside her. The thought of teasing her now seemed like a mild form of justice for the way she'd teased me all night. More than that though, I really needed to know for sure that she wanted me inside her. I needed to know I wasn't about to take advantage of a passed out young woman who only seemed to be enjoying my ministrations.

"Tell me you want it," I instructed calmly. "Tell me you want me to fuck you right now."

Silence. Her hips continued to jiggle, coaxing me on. I continued resisting, pulling back if her moist lips got too close to drawing me in.

"Say it...," I commanded now.

This time, her hips stopped moving. There was a long pause...

"Mmmm... Fuck me baby...," she relented in a passionate whisper.

That was all I needed. I relaxed my hips and slid forward slightly. As I did so, my dick finally breached the divide between teasing and fucking as my cockhead slowly eased its way into her. Brandy's hips didn't move, but I heard her exhale a long, contented sigh.

She felt wonderful. Already sloppy wet from our tease-play, her vagina accepted my manhood with a warm, snug embrace. I carefully eased myself forward, savoring every bit of her depth as I slid myself to the hilt. Aside from her sigh, Brandy was silent and motionless. Her body seemed completely relaxed with nary a tight muscle to be seen or felt. I slid myself back out just as slowly, observing the moist sheen she had deposited on my dick.

I started to steady my pace: slowly in, slowly out. I wanted to take my time enjoying the lewd circumstances of our joining. There she was like a ragdoll, letting me pull aside her thong and fuck her all while acting oblivious to everything that was going on. I continued caressing her butt and pulling on her thong as I slid in and out. Despite my best intentions, I began quickening my pace. Her pussy was coating me with her juices and the sight of her ass crack totally exposed was such a turn on, I couldn't help myself.

Before I knew it, I was fucking her properly; thrusting in and out. Though still relaxed, Brandy's breathing had intensified with my strokes. A slight vocalization escaped her lips each time I drove it home almost as if I was pumping life into her. By now I had given up the pretense of "sneaking sex" without "waking" her. My hands were gripping her butt tightly to steady my rhythm. I was breathing heavily. The whole bed was shaking. The headboard was smacking against the wall.

It felt so good. I knew I would not be able to last much longer. Only now did it dawn on me that, since I wasn't wearing protection of any sort, she might not like it if I came inside her. There was no time to make a reasoned analysis of my options, so I settled on breaking my silence again and giving her warning.

"Oh god baby! I'm going to cum soon..."

That elicited an immediate moan as if the anticipation of me fully "violating" her was going to push her over the edge. Her body curled a bit as she tightened her grip on her pillow.

"Fuck me," she whispered. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

I took that as permission to spill my seed inside her and pulled off the throttle a bit. I changed up my quick pumping for longer, deeper thrusts; each one prompting a complimentary "ugh" from Brandy muffled into her pillow. At the precipice of ecstasy, I shoved deep into her one last time, pressing the head of my cock up against her cervix. I tensed my muscles holding off the coming release for as long as I could. A moment later, my orgasm overcame that fickle barrier and exploded ejaculate in deep, forceful bursts against the walls of her sex.

"Ummmm..... cumming!" I warned her, a bit too late.

She was already reacting to the sensation of throbbing head releasing semen. Her hips began bucking more wildly than ever before, trying to milk the last bits of pleasure from my cock.

"Oh God yes! Adam! Yesssss!" she screamed as if waking from her self-imposed stupor.

Adam? My name's not Adam.

I refused to ruin the moment though. Her body started shuddering. I held her quivering ass tight, keeping myself buried deep in her as she rode out wave after wave of orgasm. Eventually the bucking of her hips subsided and her head rolled to the side. No longer muffled by the pillow, she took a deep breath and let out a long contented sigh.

"Mmmmmm...."

Her eyes were still closed, but I could see the crease of a slight smile on her face. Enjoying the moment, I caressed her body once more. I massaged her butt, rubbed my hands up and down her back, and then down the sides of her thighs. Brandy's only response was goosepimples. Then I slowly drew myself out. She shuddered one last time as the tip of my head left her sex and then she went still again.

Exhausted, I fell back on the bed beside her. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but damn it sure felt great. I just hoped I had read her signals properly. The grin plastered on her face suggested that I had. I wasn't sure who Adam was though. Did she think my name was "Adam"? Was that her boyfriend's name? The questions swirled in my mind for only a moment. As the euphoria of sexual release began to wear off, sleep quickly claimed me.

I woke up the next morning and found her gone from the bed. "Oh crap," I thought to myself, remembering back to the deeds of last night. Had I done something wrong? Where had she gone?

Just then, I heard the toilet flush in my bathroom and I saw her come out. She was now fully dressed and seemed to be in a giddy mood. In her hand, I spied what could only be the wadded, soiled material of her thong.

"Hey there sleepy-head!" she greeted me, sitting on the edge of the bed politely keeping the hand holding her thong out of sight.

"Hey," I reply as nonchalantly as possible.

"Thanks for letting me stay here last night. I really appreciate it."

"Sure, no problem."

"You know, I had the weirdest dream last night," she intoned sarcastically.

"Oh?" I said, playing along.

"Yeah. I dreamt I was having sex with my boyfriend. He was massaging me, toying with my pussy, and then he fucked me REALLY good from behind."

Adam must be her boyfriend then. "Is that so?"

"Mmm-hmm. It was pretty hot. I'm sorry if I got weird or moaned out loud in the night or anything..."

Not sure how to react to that, I just went with: "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

She rolled her eyes. "Anyway... I just wanted to check and make sure we're cool right?"

"Of course. Absolutely."

"Good. It must've been a pretty good dream, because I totally soiled my panties."

On cue, she offered up the evidence dangling her thong by the waistline on one finger in front of me. I could see could see the cloudy soiled gusset clearly in front of me. I said nothing.

Brandy continued, "Clearly I can't take these home with me. What would my boyfriend think if he saw these?"

"Uhh..."

"So I'll tell you what. Why don't you keep these," she said tossing her panties in my lap, "and we'll keep whatever happened last night strictly between us, ok?"

Who was I to argue with that?

"Sounds like a plan."

"Good. Now you just rest up and I'll get out of your hair. My cab is waiting downstairs."

She had already called a cab. Great. It was a relief to be so summarily untangled from whatever mischief we'd gotten ourselves into last night, but at the same time I was a bit chagrined to know I would likely never see her again.

"You didn't have to do that. I could've..."

"No, it's better this way," she interrupted. "Thank you so much for everything last night... and I do mean EVERYTHING. I had such a good time..."

I heard two distinct, impatient toots of a car horn outside.

"That's my ride!"

She got up, leaned over, and kissed me tenderly on the forehead. She looked me in the eye and gave me another one of her great smiles. Then she spun around, was out the door, and out of my life.

I looked down at my lap to the ragged blue thong. I picked it up and examined my handiwork. The mess wasn't anything a good washing couldn't cure, but I doubted that was the point. This was a memento to do with and savor however I pleased and a reminder of the crazy party girl who let me fuck her in her "sleep". Of course she had been awake the whole time. These panties were a token to let me know everything was okay.

I lifted them up to my nose and smiled.

#Raven #freckles #one night stand #Fucking #sleeping beauty #sleep sex #Pick up #his perspective #pick up artist

152 notes · View notes

goodgirlofglory · 3 months

Text

In the balance - Chapter 9: the world in the balance

Chapter 8

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 6,1k

Warnings: non-con (series), dub-con (series), descriptions of ptsd symptoms, panic attacks, descriptions and references to past psychological, sexual and physical abuse

Summary: your world is suddenly turned on it’s head when Steve leaves you in the care of his best friend to go hunt your attackers down. You just have to get through it until Steve returns, but that can prove difficult when Bucky starts to prod into you and Steve’s relationship...

Note: First of all, it’s been a year since i last updated this story and it’s been a bitch. I'm starting to see the ending approach though, which is great cuz im looking forward to write it🥰 For those of you who have been consistently commenting on how you were looking forward to the next chapter - THANK YOU! You guys kept me going<333 Hope you enjoy🦋

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the contents of the warnings upset you!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT!🚫

Reblogs, likes, replies and asks are amazing💖

You stared out of the floor to ceiling window, vertigo sloshing in the back of your head as you peered down at the gridwork of roads and flashing lights, the cars and people looking like ants from all the way up here in the clouds. You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, fighting the nausea down.

A broad hand suddenly clasped around the back of your neck and you jolted.

“Whoah there, it’s just me,” Steve said as he gave your neck an affectionate squeeze. He stepped up behind you and wrapped you in his arms, his big, warm hands sliding down to stroke lovingly over your swollen belly. It was getting heavier for each day that passed, and the kid was getting more restless along with it. You leaned your head back against his chest, closing your eyes as he swayed you from side to side.

- a flash of light in the dark, cold marble under your bare feet, a sickening crunch. So much blood -

Your eyes shot open and you heaved for breath, suddenly choking on air.

“Whoah there, it’s alright,” Steve said, turning you around and putting his hands on your shoulders while bending down to catch your eyes. “I know this is a big change, and we both would rather be back home, but it’s not safe there anymore. Remember I told you that, buttercup? Not like up here. The building is heavily secured and no helicopter could sneak in - the city has a million eyes. You’re safe here, sweetheart, there’s no need to worry that pretty, little head. I’m gonna keep you safe like I always have,” he said, repeating what he’d been telling you over the last 24 hours as you’d moved across the country.

A penthouse in the middle of Manhattan, New York City. 8,4 million people right below you, crawling underfoot while you swayed up in the clouds, 1300 feet up in the air. Your worst nightmare a couple of months ago. Now, you didn’t really know how to feel. You were so tired, and confused. Your memories of that horrible night were blurry blotches, and you fought between not wanting to remember all those atrocious images of blood splattering and bones breaking, and feeling so panicky over the black spots in your recollection it made your head all loopy.

“Besides, Bucky will be here with you, to keep you safe until I return to you,” Steve continued, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek softly.

That’s right, Steve was leaving. After everything that had happened, Steve was leaving, almost right this second. To catch the guys that were behind the attack on the mansion and see that they’re put away, all so I can get back to you and the baby before it’s born, he’d said when you’d hidden your face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably at him breaking the news of his departure.

You supposed you understood. He wanted the bad men in jail by the time you went into labor, so he could be with you from then on without worrying for your safety. You got the logic of it, it was now or never. It still terrified you. You needed Steve, and just when everything was going so well between you, he was leaving you. All alone in this huge, fancy penthouse in a city with millions of people. Okay, you knew you were being irrational and naggy and ungrateful. Steve had gotten you the most secure, safe and luxurious residence he could after the mansion, perhaps even more secure, under the ever watchful gaze of the city, breaking in would be even more difficult. Besides, Steve had apparently been their primary target that night, not you. So if he was out there hunting them hunting him, the target was off your back, collateral or not. Plus, Steve was leaving Bucky here for you.

Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. There is no one in this world I trust more than him. He's the only one besides myself I would entrust with your safety. An old friend, the polar opposite of Steve. Scruffy where Steve was cleanly groomed, broody where Steve was charming, quiet where Steve knew the perfect things to say. You'd barely even spoken a word to Bucky, and he always seemed to have this glare directed your way, scrutinizing your every move with cold eyes under a heavy brow. Neither of you had seemed particularly pleased with the arrangement, but Steve had assured you Bucky was the sweetest, most nobel man out there, and that he would do this for you and Steve - no questions asked. Didn’t change the trickle of ice that ran down your spine at the way Bucky assessed you, the coldness in his stare, and the way it put you on edge.

So Steve was leaving, and you were to be alone in this strange, new home with a man you didn’t know. And you were seven and a half months pregnant. With Steve’s super enhanced baby. If you weren’t so sure of the baby’s strength, you’d worry about an early labor from all the duress you’d been under these last few days…

Steve pulled you into his arms, careful not to squish your belly too hard, and kissed the top of your head while stroking a soothing hand up and down your back. You needed his touch so bad, had become so addicted to his constant physical connection, you were already dreading the withdrawals when he left. You already felt lonely.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured into your hair, tilting your head back to tenderly kiss your lips. “You be a good girl for me, and treat Bucky like this is his home too,” he murmured against your lips, making you shiver. It had been days since he’d fucked you, you hadn’t had any time alone between moving residence and him planning whatever mission he was going on with his organisation. You were aching for him, body and soul, and weren’t ready for him to go. You weren’t ready…

But he left either way.

And then you were at a complete loss. What were you supposed to do in a penthouse all day without Steve? You couldn’t take walks like on the vast lawns of the mansion with the soft, perpetually green grass under your bare feet. The penthouse was huge, sure, and two stories, with several enormous bedrooms with private bathrooms and a sitting area on the second floor and big kitchen and way too big living room on the first, along with a personal spa, a private cinema, guest rooms, personal gym and more bathrooms. Nearly the whole apartment had floor to ceiling windows, making your slight vertigo a constant with how the looming, chaotic city below and endless sky above. And you, floating in the middle. Your only option was to go down all those levels and walk in the city. Could you even do that?

A knock on the door had you slowly emerging from your thoughts, sitting on the edge of your new bed in your new bedroom, the sheets unrumpled and made up exactly like a hotel. How long had it been since Steve left? Five minutes? Five hours? You turned around to see Bucky standing in the opening of the cracked open door, shoulders almost as broad as the doorway.

“I’ve prepared some food for you,” he said, leveling you a very evaluating stare you tried not to shrink under.

Food. You had no appetite, your stomach full of dark, messy feelings and a restless baby. But you always ate when Steve prepared your meals nowadays, so you should probably do it when Bucky did too. You gave a little nod, and the brunette didn’t wait around for you to walk together down to the first floor of the penthouse.

Down in the kitchen, the aroma of creamy sauce and garlic filled your nose, and you tried opting for a seat at the kitchen island before realizing you just couldn’t get up with your belly. Bucky was loading up plates by the stove, and turned in time to see you wobble on your feet as you tried hiking yourself on the high bar stool. Your cheeks were hot with mild embarrassment as you instead opted for the dining table right next to the kitchen, sighing in relief as you got the weight off your bloated feet. They were already starting to hurt like hell, and Steve hadn’t been gone even a day yet.

Bucky appeared a moment later and put a dish down next to you. Pasta with mushrooms of some kind, a cheesy cream sauce and small pieces of bacon. The aroma was mouth watering. Bucky took the seat across the table from you as you picked up the utensils and started eating. You could scarcely stop the moan escaping you as you took your first mouthful.

“This is delicious,” you said between the next bite and the one after, already shuffling the food into yourself in a rather unmannered way. It took you a while to realize Bucky had neither answered you, nor moved a muscle, his own steaming dish of pasta untouched before him. A ping of unease flared to life inside you.

You looked up to meet his gaze and nearly winced at how cold his eyes were, pinning you with a look that could only be described as scrutiny. Your muscles seized, a premonition blooming. That wasn’t the look you expected, and definitely one that you liked.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“W-what?” you answered after nearly choking on your food. You’d introduced yourself only a few days ago, had he forgotten? How did the room suddenly feel colder, Bucky’s cool, steel eyes raising goosebumps along your skin in a flair of nerves.

“Who do you work for?” he asked.

“I…I don’t have a job anymore, Steve, um… I quit,” you answered, confused, trying not to focus on how you’d gotten out of your last job at that local yarn and handicraft store in your hometown.

“There is no point in feigning innocence here, I’ll get your file any minute now,” he said, and that threw you for a loop before your unease doubled. Your breath was speeding up, getting choppy.

“You’re running background checks on m-me?” you asked. What the hell was he suspecting you of doing? You hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, couldn’t remember having done anything wrong.

Bucky didn’t answer your question, just sat there while his meal turned cold.

“If you have anything to confess, I suggest you do it now, before I get the intel,” he warned you instead.

Your heart was picking up speed, your stomach restless both from a sudden nausea and the kid squirming around. Steve had said Bucky was noble and trustworthy, but here he was being all threatening and cold, and you were locked into this apartment alone with him. The sudden feeling of danger made your head spin, and your mind wandered back to that night.

-sudden lights at the window, your body moving too slow under all its extra weight, your heart in your throat -

Bucky leaned forward in his chair somewhat.

“What are you planning on doing with the baby? What is your plan for Steve?”

Hot tears sprung from your eyes like a sudden faucet, and a violent sob burst from you.

-hot, sticky blood raining down on your face in patters, the mortified gurgling sound of a throat ripped apart -

Your chair toppled over as you jumped up, driven by a flash of adrenalin, and you groaned as your joints protested the sudden movement with pain.

“I…what…n-no, he was the one who..I tried to say no, I never wanted - I didn’t want -”

Your throat closed on another sob, your lungs burning and you just couldn’t draw enough breath into them, panic making you suddenly dizzy. Your thoughts were running too fast, a voice in your head yelling at you to not say anything bad about Steve, about how he got you to the mansion, about how he got you pregnant.

You swayed dangerously to one side, your feet numb and weak, and for a split second you registered Bucky’s expression turning from suspicious and hard to something more concerned, a crack in his confidence. He got to his feet and clasped a hand around your upper arm. On second thought you should’ve realized he was trying to keep you from falling flat on your face, but in the moment all you saw was the masked man who’d tried to pry you from the closet in the mansion and drag you away.

Your reflexes kicked in, and before you knew it, your hands met Bucky’s chest with all the strength you could muster. Bucky did not fly across the room like the masked man had flown down the stairs - Bucky merely stumbled a step back - but the pure shock on his face registered in your mind even through your panicked haze. The half-open mouth, wide eyes and pinprick pupils, the color that drained several shades from his otherwise tanned skin and rosy cheeks. You might as well have flung him to the moon.

Your mind cleared slightly from its dizziness as you realized the baby’s inherited strength had charged yours once again, but your breath was still too short, too fast, the oxygen rasping up and down your esophagus before it could even reach your lungs. You were going to die, your mind thought with a pathetic little whimper.

“Whoah, easy,” Bucky said, taking a step forward with his hands raised in surrender, worry alight on his features where suspicion had been only a minute ago. “Breathe, c’mon breathe,” he said, gently stepping up to where you stood frozen in place, doing all you could to keep conscious as your head started pounding from the pressure and lack of oxygen. You watched as he brought one hand up to cradle your elbow, and found yourself reaching out your own hand to cling to him, grabbing on to his arm with your nails first. It somehow helped, if only a fraction, the warm, real, corporal feeling of his flesh working as a lifeline to keep you rooted to the earth, to reality, to consciousness. Your feet moved on their own, staggering a step closer to grab his other arm with your hand.

Help me, please, help, you thought with desperation as your irregular breaths got fractionally deeper.

“That’s it, breathe for me,” Bucky said as he let you draw closer to him, your nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He looked into your eyes, his own calmer now than before, gentler, staring into yours so hard it forced you to focus through your panic, noticing with increasing awareness the speckle of green in his irises, how the light caught the blue, how his pupils slowly expanded as your breaths got longer and more even.

“That’s right, good girl,” he murmured, when at last your breath evened out and you could pry your stiff fingers from where they were stabbing into his forearms.

God, you needed a hug. Your feet felt like jello, there was a stab of pain in the back of your neck. You were going to have such a gnarly headache. And you needed a hug, your nerves hanging on by a frail, frayed thread. You needed Steve, but he wasn’t here, so you needed a hug, and the burly figure in front of you seemed like he gave great, big, warm ones.

Leaning forward, you slumped against Bucky, your face smushing into his chest, not caring that he was a practical stranger and that he’d just accused you of being some secret, evil succubus spy. Bucky stiffened noticeably as you practically fell into him, but then his arms came up to wrap around you, steadying you with an air of politeness.

You’re sure the moment was exceedingly awkward, but you were suddenly so overwhelmed and tired and filled with grief you couldn’t even feel it. Bucky was warm, like a furnace, so incredibly warm.

You were halfway into exhausted slumber by the time Bucky gently pried you away from his chest, and you barely kept the disappointed mewl from slipping past your lips. You looked up into his eyes, and saw tension there, intense and concentrated, along with unmistakable curiosity, still a little tainted by suspicion. But he asked you no further questions, simply said “let’s get you upstairs so you can rest” and then tugged you gently along back to your room and into bed. You were slipping into unconsciousness when you felt the bed dip, the silk sheet being draped over you and a gentle squeeze to your shoulder.

You awoke to the gentle rap of knuckles on your door and the smell of chamomile tea. You were still in the same clothes, sheet draped over you, and you blinked bleary, exhausted eyes open to see Bucky standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

You sat up and smiled a little as he made his way over to the bed, though you weren’t quite brave enough to meet his eyes. He put the tray down beside you on the bed and lingered.The tray had a mug of tea and a salad that looked delicious, with a wide variety of greens and cheese, nuts and seeds and a dressing of some kind. It looked like the perfect textbook snack Steve would’ve prepared for you. He’d probably given Bucky list upon list of things to give you and make sure you did while he was away. Steve and his imperious ways. You couldn’t help smile at that, your heart aching for him, feeling that Steve wasn’t too far away for a tiny moment.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asked.

“Better,” you said, truly feeling better in that moment, and patted the bed for him to sit and join you. You needed to get along with Bucky if he was Steve’s best friend.

You dug into the food, feeling famished. You felt Bucky watching you, and forced yourself to not lock up. You could feel the questions hanging in the air between you, but if you just pretended everything was fine, maybe he’d forget about asking them. You didn’t know how much Steve would allow you to tell about…well, anything.

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a minute of silence as you ate and sipped from your tea.

Oh crap, here we go

You dared to look up at him, meeting his baby blue eyes for a second before giving him a tiny nod and continuing to eat.

“You said something before…downstairs, when I asked what your plan for the baby and Steve was,” he started. He was speaking softly, no accusation in his tone whatsoever, but your heartbeat still sped up in your chest.

Scrambling, you tried to remember what you’d said. That whole ordeal was a blur, you couldn’t remember much outside feeling you were going to die from lack of oxygen.

Trying to keep your breathing in check, you raised a shoulder, trying for relaxed and feeling much too stiff, hoping against hope that Bucky would just let it go.

“You said that Steve was the one who…something, and that you had tried to say no. That you didn’t want…something,” Bucky said, sitting unmoving on the edge of the bed. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, afraid he’d see something in them you didn’t mean to show. Afraid you would betray Steve in some way, a sickening pulse of guilt wracking through you. “What did you mean by that?” Bucky asked after several long, silent seconds.

You tried opening your mouth to speak only to choke on your own spit, swallowing painful before opening your mouth again.

“I didn’t mean anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t say - I didn’t mean anything with it,” you stammered out, and bloody hell, you didn’t even believe yourself in that moment, all sweaty hands, flaky eyes and trembling voice.

Please don’t ask me anything more about it, you’ll ruin everything

You knew without looking that Bucky didn’t believe you, he was way too quiet for that, unmoving, assessing you, scrutinizing your crumbling appearance.

Why can’t you just let it go?, you thought desperately.

The food you’d just consumed churned in your stomach.

“Are you sure?” you heard him say, and you stared down at your hands in your lap, giving him a tiny, unconvincing nod.

Just leave it, please.

Bucky got up from the bed, the mattress aligning itself without his weight, and stood by it for a moment. You kept your gaze lowered, forcefully holding your anxiety down in order to keep what suspicions you could at bay.

“I’m going out to the city for an errand. Would you like to join me?” he asked.

You couldn’t help how your face shot up in surprise, how your eyes widened as you processed his words.

“What?”

Bucky looked you dead in the eyes, still scrutinizing, but he shifted on his feet as though a bit uncertain of himself.

“Well, Steve told me you liked to walk around the garden of his estate, and he insisted I try and keep your daily routine as unchanged as possible. If you were used to walking a lot, this apartment isn’t really big enough for that, so I thought you could join me in the city to get your steps in. We could take a turn around central park if you’d like,” Bucky said.

Walking. In the city.

You shook your head a little. No, you couldn’t do that. Were you even allowed? You doubted Steve meant for Bucky to take you into the city when he said to keep your routine unchanged. Still, an aching flare of need burst to life in your chest. Going outside. You wanted to go outside, to feel the breeze on your face, smell the rose garden, to listen to the birds. You knew you wouldn’t find much of that in New York city though.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, the need to get outside the glass cage that was the apartment warring with your uncertainty of being with all those people in the streets below. Things had not gone well the last time you’d done that. All that time ago, before things had become so good between you and Steve. Before he’d made you see you weren’t cut out for being independent. That you would be so much happier with him. Under his protection.

“Oh come on, it won’t take long, we’ll go as slow as you need,” Bucky said, and though his tone was lighter now, his eyes didn’t relent in their careful assessment of you.

Would he become more suspicious if you refused? You feared it. What normal woman would suddenly refuse to go for a walk if that was what she was used to? Maybe Steve wouldn’t mind. Or maybe you just desperately wanted to be somewhere else but inside the apartment all the way up in the sky like this, perched and dizzy.

“Okay,” you finally conceded.

You tried for a smile as Bucky bid you to meet him by the private elevator on the first floor in fifteen minutes.

The tiny hope that Steve wanted you to take walks down on the NYC streets soon died as you went through your closet and realized there was no coat nor any real shoes in the wardrobe Steve had curated for you. Uncharacteristically driven to succeed at your prerogative though, you put on a double pair of socks and the flat strappy sandals from way in the back of the closet, dorned your thickest cardigan and made your wobbly way downstairs.

Bucky was waiting by the elevator, checking something on his phone. A phone. How long had it been since you’d seen a mobile phone? He put it away as you approached, smiling as he lifted his gaze to you. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked over your outfit.

“It’s way too cold out for that, I’ll get your coat, and you should probably put on some boots,” he said, moving to go past you. Your hand shot out and landed on his chest, halting him.

“N-no, I, uh, I haven’t got any,” you blurted. His warmth burned through the layers of his sweater, distracting as your palm absorbed the heat.

His eyes narrowed on you.

“You haven’t got a coat or shoes?” he asked, and you just knew you’d revealed the wrong thing. This looked so bad.

“No, I do,” you lied,” Steve must’ve just forgotten to pack them when we moved, it all just happened so quickly, you know,” you said, smiling a little up at him, hoping he would back off at the reference to that night. “Anyway, I prefer these sandals. Bloated feet and whatnot.”

Bucky leveled you with his narrowed stare for a few seconds longer, probably weighing your words with whatever he could read on your face.

“All right, but I’m getting you one of my jackets. It’s a chilly day and I don’t want to risk your health,” he said sternly and made a beeline for his own room.

You breathed a sigh of relief, belatedly realizing he could’ve cancelled the whole outing outright because of this. You were suddenly quite…happy he didn’t. You were excited to go out, you realized, eager almost. And nervous, so nervous the baby was getting increasingly restless within you, moving about in your belly as you waited for Bucky to return, staring at the elevator doors in front of you.

You almost didn’t hear Bucky return with the way your blood pumped in your ears, not until a leather jacket was gently draped over your shoulders, the smell of a spicy cologne and well worn leather wafting into your nose. Not unpleasant, you realized as you insinuated your arms into it and brought it around yourself.

“Sorry, this is the only thing I have that I think’ll fit around your…um, well everything,” Bucky said, hesitating as he gestured vaguely at your belly and you noticed the faintest of pink dusting his cheeks.

How thoughtful…

“Thanks,” you said, closing the zipper at the front of the jacket tightly over your belly. It was snug, but it did indeed fit. Your outfit couldn’t have been more uncoordinated if you tried, with your woolen socks and strappy sandals, an ankle length satin dress and big, black leather jacket. But you didn’t care. You were going outside.

Adrenaline started pumping in your system the second the elevator pinged and the doors opened, and you again fought to keep up appearances and you stiffly moved into the little steel chamber to be taken down to ground level.

It’s perfectly normal to go outside, it’s perfectly normal to leave the house, there’s nothing to be afraid of, you kept repeating to yourself silently, avoiding looking in the direction of your chaperone.

You did well, you thought as you stared at the display above the door counting down the floor numbers until it only displayed a capitol “L” for lobby. Ground floor. Here we go.

Only, when the elevator doors opened, and there were several people waiting to ride it up, just standing outside, minding their business, not even looking at you…you couldn’t move.

Something was wrong, this was all wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this, you knew you shouldn’t.

In your peripheral vision, you noticed Bucky watching you, waiting for you to move ahead of him, observing even more of those things you were certain Steve wouldn’t want you to show him. The baby kicked your ribs.

“Come on, little lady,” Bucky murmured, and a warm, gentle hand on your back carefully nudged you forward. Under the guise of being heavily pregnant (which you were), you slowly moved forward, out of the elevator, not brave enough to meet the eyes of the people waiting, but murmuring thanks to them as they moved out of the way for you and Bucky.

Your breathing was choppy, and Bucky moved you to the side as soon as you were out of the way of the elevators. There was so much noise in the lobby, people milling about, music from somewhere, some children somewhere screaming with laughter, and through the opening doors all the way on the other side of the vast voajer, the deafening roar of city traffic filtered in.

Steve’s voice was suddenly loud in your head. You can’t make it out there, you’re too weak, too frail, they’ll swallow you whole, the voice whispered with finality, growing in volume, warping into a static roar. The laughter of the children turned to screams, the crowds noise became a deafening tsunami of sound, the blaring horns from cars hurting your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut and -

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise like a knife, bringing you back to your body with a pair of strong, warm hands on your shoulders, like anchors on your mind. “You’re okay,” he said, bowing his head to capture your gaze with his own.

You stared into his eyes, realizing you were about to spiral into your second panic attack that day, and that he’d calmed you down for the second time as well.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low and comforting, not drawing any attention to the two of you from the other people in the lobby.

“I’m, -” you rasped, realizing you were on the verge of hyperventilating, “I’m too weak,” you whimpered.

“Too weak for what? You look pale, is it the baby? Do you need to sit down?” Bucky asked, looking you over while keeping you from wobbling.

No, it wasn’t the baby, it was never the baby. It was you, you were too weak.

“No, the baby is fine, the baby is strong. It’s me, I’m too weak to make it out there on my own,” you nearly whined, eyeing the doors to the outside warily.

“What do you mean? You’re not alone. I’m here with you. And besides, you are strong, I felt it earlier,” Bucky said. You could tell he was sort of confused as to why he needed to give you a pep talk just to leave the lobby, but here he was. He put a hand on your belly, and the warmth of his palm could be felt through the layers of clothing, even through the leather of his jacket. The touch grounded you even more, sharpening your focus. You looked into his deep, earnest blue eyes. “You’re protecting the little one, right? You are his or her momma bear, and he or she gives you the strength and courage to do it, right?”

You stilled at those words, felt them absorb into you, felt them settle neatly somewhere deep inside you.

That’s…right. That’s it. Your baby gave you strength, unnatural amounts of strength, and you needed to protect your baby. Only you could protect your baby, you could feel it, deep down in the marrow of your bones, a deep-rooted unwavering certainty that could only be some instinctual thing inherited from all the mothers that came before you. How had you not noticed that before? How did Bucky manage to find the words that somehow unlocked that knowledge? Or maybe it’d been there the whole time…

Like a fog, the panic and anxiety lifted slightly from your hazy mind, and you laughed. Suddenly, a bit shakily, and incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping at a few tears that escaped your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of tears.

Bucky smiled warmly.

“No need. I can’t imagine what all those hormones are putting you through, but if looks rough, I gotta tell you that. Now, how about we get on with the mission, if you’re still up for it?” he said, taking his hand off your belly and squeezing your shoulders reassuringly once before retreating them both from your form.

You nodded.

Your baby gives you strength, you protect your baby, you repeated in your head again and again as you followed Bucky to the doors. Though not a miracle cure, you found yourself steadily moving out the doors, into the streets, down the sidewalk, across to the next street and then on.

It was like watching yourself from outside your body. Here you were, just six weeks shy of your due date, walking the streets of New York city like a normal person. You kept expecting the world to explode, but it didn’t. You kept expecting the people meeting you on the street to brandish clubs or knives or needles to hurt you with, but they all pretty much ignored you.

Suddenly, Bucky had finished his errand and you found yourself waddling around Central Park with Bucky, breathing in the fresh air, listening intently for the bird song. You kept on the lookout for rose bushes to smell, but found the worm leather of your jacket made a surprisingly nice replacement. A child gave you a grin that lacked a front tooth and excitedly pointed at your belly before her mother pulled her away, scolding her for being rude. You couldn’t help waving at her and smiling as she was dragged away, looking back to find Bucky watching you, his eyes gentle, but guarded. He’d kept a close eye on you ever since leaving the apartment building, but strangely, you found yourself pushing the worries for what he might be thinking far away.

You hadn’t felt this calm in days. The breeze was gentle and cooling on the exposed skin of your face, your leg muscles thrummed pleasantly from how long you’d walked and the open sky above you made you feel like you could finally breathe properly again. You suspected Bucky might be part of why you felt so safe to just enjoy these sensations right now, but his words from earlier hadn’t stopped shining like a lighthouse in the back of your mind.

The baby gave you strength, and you would use that strength to protect your baby…and yourself. You had come to realize you’d already done that in the past. When that man had grabbed you from the closet in the mansion, you hadn’t freezed and cowered and yielded to whatever violence he’d dish out. You had defended yourself. You’d used the strength the baby gave you and protected you both. How had you not seen that as a reason for confidence before now?

Who knew how long those words could keep your anxiety at bay. For now, you made the most of this uncommon calm and said virtually nothing to Bucky for the rest of the walk before he took you back to the apartment complex.

The minute the elevator doors closed and locked behind you, and you reluctantly gave Bucky his leather jacket back, the threatening gloom of fear began to sink over you. You raised your chin, repeated your new found mantra to yourself and reflected on a new found experience you hadn’t believed possible. You had just been out almost all day in New York city, one of the busiest and most dangerous cities on the planet, and nothing had gone wrong. Fretful hope bloomed inside you. Maybe, just maybe things could work out for you. Maybe you didn’t have to be so scared shitless all the time. Hadn’t you lived and managed on your own before? In another life, all that time ago? Hadn’t that been you on your own for years before Steve entered your life?

You wobbled over to the couch, sighing deeply as you finally got your weight off your feet. Amazing as it was to feel the ache in your legs from muscles well spent walking, you could already feel all the aches in your body that Steve usually kept at bay with his massages, start to grow - beginning in your feet and lower back.

Steve…

Just the thought of him had you aching in an entirely different way. God, you missed his hands on your skin, how he fired up this all-consuming need in you, made you desperate for him. You were wound embarrassingly tight already, backed up in a way that was hard to ignore.

Before you could fall further into that line of thought, Bucky entered the living room. One look at him had your pleasant mood shifting.

“We need to talk,” he said.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #in the balance #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers fanfic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader

76 notes · View notes

take-taker-taken · 2 months

Note

Can I get a ABA!Taker with small reader, (im 5'0 without shoes lol) (male pref) where he works with taker and accidentally injures him during a match and taker takes him in the locker room?

Kinks: daddy kink, dry humping,dumbification, spanking maybe?

Hey, hey, Anon! Here’s your fic! No title I’m afraid because I struggle with those. Also have to give props to Randy Orton for the inspiration of Taker getting hurt. Hope you enjoy!

Untitled

“Me? You’re sure?”

“That’s what he said. That he likes what he’s seen and thinks you deserve a push.” The exec stands up and so you get to your feet as well before reaching out to shake his hand.

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the opportunity.”

You leave the office in a bit of a daze at what’s just taken place. At first you’d been petrified that they were going to fire you and so to be told that none other than the Undertaker wants to work with you… Whoah. Immediately after leaving the room you set about trying to find him so that you can thank him personally - he’s an old school guy and so you know he would consider that the proper way to do things.

After psyching yourself up a bit, you knock on his dressing room door and hear a lazy, “Yeah?”

You open the door a little and peer around it, scanning the large room until you see the man himself sprawled on a couch watching some sports on a TV. He looks around and a slow smile creeps over his face. Not unkind, exactly, but… you can’t quite place it. You stand awkwardly at the door because truth is… well, he’s freakin’ hot.

“It’s the new kid!” He says and waves you over. “Come on in, boy.”

You step in and close the door behind you, trying to ignore the fact that he’s already unintentionally hit on one of your kinks - hearing him call you ‘boy’, and with that accent... You pause for a second as you suppress a shiver and then remind yourself that he’s probably not going to appreciate some timid little newbie hovering in the corner. You need to be polite and respectful, but confident and so you walk over until you’re only a few feet away. Damn, he’s a big guy.

“Sir, I wanted to stop by and say thank you. The office just told me that you asked about us doing a short program together because you thought I deserved a push. Coming from you, that’s a huge compliment sir, and a great opportunity. I really appreciate it, thank you.”

Taker sits up a little bit straighter, his black Harley Davidson t-shirt pulling tight across his chest and he nods. “Respect, that’s good - I like that.”

Like his smile earlier, there’s something in his tone that you can’t place but you do feel yourself blush slightly. Trying to cover it you clear your throat and shrug. “Well, yeah - you’re the locker room leader, so I figured -”

“You figure right.” He says, pointing at you with his first two fingers. “I’m the daddy.”

Oh god. You swallow and start willing your dick not to get hard as you gradually back away. “I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone now. Thank you again. Sir.”

He gives you a nod. “You got it, kid. We’ll catch up and go over some spots next week some time.”

He turns his attention back to the TV and so that’s you dismissed. You turn and leave the room, unable to shift the image of his shirt stretched tight across his chest and biceps as he gave you that smile. What was that? You decide to head to the gym and get a workout in, but find that his voice calling himself ‘daddy’ echoes around your head all day.

————————

Match day rolls around and you pace nervously in gorilla and then you turn and nearly walk smack into him. You look up - all the way up, because he has nearly two feet of height on you and you know that fear is written all over your face.

“Calm down, kid. We’re gonna go out there and tear it down, OK?” He rests one huge hand briefly on your shoulder and you glance down at it and then back up.

“Yessir.”

He nods and gives you a nudge towards the curtain as the announcer starts the spiel for you and then your music kicks in and you head on through and down to the ramp. You have a small following and of course you’re going to lose but this is the biggest match of your career so far and so you do you best to get out of your head and play up to the crowd as you reach the ring. The cheers for you die down and then Taker’s music hits and the roof comes off. It’s been decided that the ramp is too short for his bike and so he saunters down to the ring while you wait on him, trying your best not to look as intimidated as you are.

“It’ll be fine,” you tell yourself. “He’s a safe worker. One of the best. He wanted this match.”

He steps in and pulls the audience into continuing their worship as he works his way around the squared circle. Then it’s time. You step up close - you’d be touching chests if it wasn’t for the height difference - and stare up into the deadliest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen. A sneer curls his lip as he stands with his hands on his hips, staring right back down at you. You know that to the watching public it probably looks ridiculous but then the bell goes and it’s game on.

You lock up, so much as that’s possible but he soon sends you sprawling to the floor, which you use as an opportunity to showcase some agility. The match gets into a nice pace and you’re starting to really enjoy yourself, giving Taker the runaround and even getting some low tackles in that slam him to the canvas, just as you’ve agreed. He has you hemmed in the corner as you take turns delivering blows to the head and he calls the big spot that you worked on.

“OK kid, you’re gonna slip under my arm, jump and bash my head on the post here, then get outta the ring and get the chair in here.”

He moves one leg back just a fraction which gives you the wriggle room to duck and with a big leap you deliver the blow to his head before nipping between the ropes. You grab the folding chair from the corner by the announcer’s table and shove it into the ring while Taker staggers about, selling the blow to his head. You pick up the chair and deliver a blow to his back and so he falls down to the canvas and you drop a couple more. As he drags himself up to all fours, you move around so that you’re standing over his head - it’s time for the big one and you raise the chair high and bring it down as he gets to his knees.

He raises his head and you realise with horror what’s about to happen - you’ve not properly factored in distance and BAM! Instead of catching him on top of his head, it glances down his forehead and opens him up. Blood appears in an instant, welling up in the cut before spilling over and trickling down in his face in a bright red curtain. You stare open mouthed at what you’ve done but he doesn’t really acknowledge it, just carries on with a couple more moves on you before grabbing and positioning you for the Last Ride. He lifts you high, high into the air and then you hear the blood rushing in your ears before you hit the canvas with a deafening thud. He covers you, the bell goes and the ref raises his arm as his theme blasts out.

Having celebrated his win he exits the ring and leaves you laying there, staring at a pool of his blood glistening bright red against the canvas. You give him a chance to make his way up the ramp before you slide out and follow dejectedly in his wake. As you walk back through the curtain gorilla is blessedly empty, so you escape the first ass-chewing that you were anticipating. You need to find him and apologise - your first really big match and you blew it. The image of him covered in blood comes to your mind and you wipe a hand over your face and moan. He’s going to kill you.

You ask a couple of crew if they’ve seen him and the second one says that they saw him heading to medical and your heart sinks. You are so finished. You consider going there to see him, but somehow don’t think your presence would be appreciated and so instead you head to the showers figuring to get changed and then catch up to him.

There’s half a dozen guys already in the locker room and they greet you enthusiastically and ask how things went. You recount the absolute disaster and they try to reassure you with all the usual ‘mistakes happen’ stuff. You nod and then grab your gel and head through to the shower while the rest of the guys continue to yell and chat with each other.

You’ve been stood under the water, lost in thought for a few minutes when it suddenly occurs to you that it’s gone quiet. Silent, in fact. Frowning, you shut off the water and grab your towel, rubbing it over your head and body before stepping into a pair of sweats before you walk round the corner to the lockers.

Taker is sat there, waiting for you. Your eyes do a quick sweep of the room and then dart back to him when he speaks.

“Ain’t nobody coming in here, boy. It’s just you and me.”

You take a couple of steps forward. “Taker, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean -”

He holds up a hand and you fall silent. “What’d you call me?”

You curse inwardly. “Sir, I -”

“Try again.”

You swallow as your mind races because there’s no way he wants you to use his given name. If it’s not Taker, and it’s not sir, the only other thing he’s mentioned… Fuck. You chew on your lip for a moment and then whisper, “I’m sorry… daddy?”

He nods slowly. “There ya go.” He beckons you closer and staring at the floor you make your way over. “Look at me, boy.”

You raise your eyes and wince when you see the now closed up cut on his forehead. “I didn’t mean to, daddy.”

“I know that,” he says and you feel relief wash over you until he adds, “but now I need to give you a receipt, don’t I?”

You almost feel like you’re on the outside looking in, because he must know that this is pushing your buttons. Your mind races as you try to think whether you’ve ever said or done anything to give the game away but you turn up a blank. You’ve always had a crush on him but figured you’d kept a lid on it, even to the point of avoiding him. You flash back to that smile he gave you that you had never quite figured out and realise that he must have seen it in you. You don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.

He stands up and you take an involuntary step back but he grabs your wrist before setting one foot up on the bench. You look at the huge boot and then back up to his face but only for a second because he jerks you forward and bends you over his thigh and then holds you in place with a hand on the back of your neck.

“Take those sweats down.” He accompanies his words with a squeeze of his hand.

You reach for your waistband and then sanity interferes. “Wh… what are you going to do?”

“Did I stutter, boy? Get ‘em down!”

With a whimper you comply, pushing the fabric down over your ass and thighs until they reach your knees and drop the rest of the way to pool around your feet.

“That’s better,” his voice is softer now. “I tell you to do something and you jump, boy.”

“Yes, daddy-ee!” Your response turns to a squeak as you feel that big hand stroke over your naked ass.

“OK, it’s receipt time.” His leg shifts slightly as he gets himself comfortable and then he gives you a gentle pat before adding, “Now, you can yell as loud as you want so long as you don’t mind anyone outside figuring out what’s happening to ya.”

With that he draws his hand back and it comes down firmly on your ass, making you gasp. Surprisingly, it’s not as painful as you thought it would be and even when the second and third smacks land it feels like maybe this is just some kind of token thing for him to do to a newbie - like mild hazing or something. By the time it gets to six you’re starting to change your mind and when a particularly hard strike lands you cry out and clutch his leg.

“OK, tha -that’s enough - I -” Suddenly you’re upright, his hand still around the back of your neck and he’s glaring at you. He bends down until his face is inches from your own and you stare at the strawberry blonde goatee as he speaks slowly in a low voice.

“Let’s get something crystal fuckin’ clear, boy. You don’t decide what’s enough - I do. Got it?” You nod and he gives you a shake. “Who does?”

“Y- you do,” you stutter and then when his looks becomes meaner still you hurriedly add, “I mean - you do, daddy.”

“Damn right.” He nods and message delivered, he bends you back over and really begins to wail on you, his palm coming down hard all over your ass and flinging your hands out of the way when you try to protect yourself. You’re shouting in pain and not caring who hears you but it’s clearly no deterrent to him and so you try a different tack.

“Please, daddy! Please stop! I’ll be good, I promise!”

Despite the pain, the embarrassment and the confusion you realise that your dick is getting hard and try desperately to will it from happening, but to no avail. Your feet drum on the floor as he continues to spank you and you’re squeezing his calf again. Eventually he stops and you blink furiously to clear the tears before he drags you upright again.

“That’s your receipt, boy. Next time you fuck up that bad it’ll be my belt, ya hear?”

You swipe a hand across your face and nod, unable to stop your other hand from creeping back to rub at your ass. “Yes, daddy. Can - can I go now?” Even as the words leave your mouth a thought flits through your brain that says, ‘Please don’t end this here…’

He still has a hold on your neck but it’s softened and is more comforting than anything else. You watch his eyes scanning down your body and then he stops and a slow smile crosses his face before he glances back up at you.

“Oh, I don’t think so boy - not yet. Now, what’s this?” His hand slips between your legs and the long, warm fingers wrap around your dick which responds rapidly and you let out a small moan. “Looks like that’s got you all hot and bothered, huh?”

You swallow and consider stuttering out a denial but what would be the point? While he’s holding your dick, his free hand wanders to his own crotch and you watch as he squeezes himself through the denim.

“You want to give it up for daddy? Got a few kinks you want me to work out, that it?”

Your head snaps up. Is he really saying what you think he’s saying? There’s that smirk again but he shocks you by abruptly letting go of your dick and pulling up your sweats. You stand there, a deep blush on your cheeks and heart pounding as it pokes out, tenting the material.

Taker picks up his gear bag, a typical black holdall, and tosses it on to the floor in front of you. You glance down at it and then back up at him but he’s already got his back turned as he walks to retrieve a chair from the far end of the room. He saunters back over and sets it down about four feet from the gear bag, which you’re standing just behind. He takes a seat as you stand there hot, bothered and horny, wondering what’s going on. He leans back, knees falling wide apart and looks up at you.

“Guess you’re hoping I’m gonna fuck you.” It’s a statement and you find yourself nodding before hurriedly stopping yourself as he chuckles. “Yeah, I thought so. But here’s the thing.” He brushes some imaginary dust from his thigh and says, “You gotta earn that.” He sits up a little straighter and folds his arms. “What d’you think about that?”

“I…” You swallow and try to focus enough to answer as you stand before your ultimate crush, aware that a damp patch is probably spreading on your pale grey sweats. “I can do that, daddy.”

He nods, strokes over his goatee and says, “Let’s find out, shall we? Get on all fours, boy.”

As though pulled by invisible strings, you drop to your hands and knees, which puts you about six inches from his gear bag. You look up, eager to pass whatever test he has in mind for you and then it’s as though your brain just short circuits. If he looked alpha male to you before, being down on all fours and looking up just wipes you out. He beckons to you, urging you forwards, but his bag is in the way… isn’t it?

“C’mon, boy… that’s it. Just get the bag underneath yourself… bit further… stop right there.”

You freeze in place when he tells you to stop and in that moment realise that your dick is just above one edge of the holdall. Your eyes are still fixed on him and that predatory smile is back on his face. Your hips drop slightly and your dick makes contact with the bag through your sweats and you gasp, lifting them up again.

“Go on, boy… rut on it.”

Somehow you’d known this was his plan when he made you crawl over the bag. You don’t think you could stop yourself even if you wanted to and so you begin to move, your swollen dick inside your pants repeatedly catching on the edge of his gear bag. The friction is delicious and you moan, head dropping down. You should be embarrassed - maybe you are - but you just don’t care and straight away begin to pick up speed.

Taker looks pleased and palms himself through his jeans again. “Feels good, don’t it? Look at you… you’re fuck drunk already, boy.” He leans forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs and the movement makes you lift your head again.

“Please… please, daddy!”

“Please what?” He shrugs and then shakes his head. “You don’t even know, do you? You’re too busy fucking yourself stupid.”

“Please daddy…” You want to say more but you just can’t form words and he laughs this time - a low, rumbling sound.

“Poor, dumb little fuckslut. Can’t even form a sentence, can you boy? You just keep going until you make a mess in your pants.”

You give up trying to speak and just nod, knowing that you’re really not far off from…

“Fuck - daddy - please!” You cry out as you start to come, the material of your light grey sweats darkening in patches with your release.

Seemingly unmoved Taker reaches forward and slides his bag out from under you, presumably to prevent it from being soiled and then to your eternal surprise he leans over and kisses you on the forehead.

“There ya go. Next time you can try it on my leg, how ‘bout that?”

You’re still on all fours and just nod dumbly. “Yes please, daddy.”

He stands up and picks up his bag, hefting it on to his shoulder. “You might wanna get up boy, before anyone comes in here and wants to know why you’re on the floor with cum stains on your pants. Just a thought.”

With that, he heads for the door and walks out, leaving you alone still staring dazedly at the chair and wondering how long it’ll be until he calls on you again.

END

#the undertaker #undertaker #this character lives in my head rent free #taker smut #wwf undertaker x reader #the undertaker x reader #TTT Tumblr Asks #the american badass #american badass x reader #american badass smut #dom!taker #sub!reader #daddy!taker

26 notes · View notes

harlowtales · 8 months

Text

Reader finds out she is pregnant and doesn’t want to stay hidden in Jack’s life. She gives him an ultimatum.

18+ Drama and Adult Themes/Sweet🤱🏽🤰🏽👶🏼

The news that you were pregnant had Jack over the moon, but he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted at this time “Its not the greatest timing but we’ll make it work.” He said as you were having a tense conversation about keeping it or not. You were holding the test wondering what to do.

“Look I’m not ready” you said. “It’s still early in the game. Why don’t we just take care of this quietly, and we can move on” you were always better at being pragmatic than he was.

“What the fuck are you telling me? What does take care of it quietly mean?” He felt anger starting to bubble up and wanted to remember the state you were in. He couldn’t imagine his mother finding out she almost had a grandchild. Plus he loved you. “Early in the game? This is not a game” he said pulling you close and rubbing your belly. “This is my daughter” he said lovingly.

“Whoah. How do know that?” You said pulling away a bit. “I’m not sure this is what I want Jack.” You saw Jack’s face change. You knew he was so confused and you were concerned he would blame you for derailing his career. White Men Can’t Jump was such a big hit that now he was getting offers left and right. Plus you had your own business going. A child was not in your plans. But it was Jack’s baby making this extra hard because you loved him so much.

“You would be a great mom” he said trying to reason with you. “You’re smart, we make enough money…”

“We don’t even live together Jack. We tried that remember? You said bitterly

“That’s because it became a frat house and the guys don’t even spend much time there anymore. With a baby around they would respect that.” He said “If we do this you have to move back in.” He insisted “Look at me please?” He tilted your chin up with his hand and looked into your eyes. You started tearing up. “What is it?” He pleaded “What can I do to change your mind?”

“Stop flirting for starters and we go public” You said decisively. You looked at him bracing for his protest as it was a constant issue. The way Jack acted everyone on the internet thought he was single and he never talked about you to the press. He sat there for a bit. What you were proposing was a total commitment. You had to play hardball. Jack had a history of being evasive. You didn’t want to hold a gun to his head, but you weren’t going to stay hidden as the mother of his child.

“Hardball huh?.” He said. “ It’s fair, but that means you cut all ties with old boy. No running to him if we hit a rough patch.” Jack countered. You sat there contemplating what to say. Guys never get completely rid of their options. If Jack thought you were falling for that he had another thing coming.

“Ok, lose the problem 3’s numbers. Unfollow them. Even you know who.” You shot back. He knew who the problem 3 were. If you were left without a safety net, he had to do the same. You weren’t worried about randoms, but these 3 girls had staying power causing problems in the past. You and one of them had come to a brief understanding but the other two were huge bitches always trying shit.

“Ok. Deal.” He said much easier than you thought.

“Ok?” You said surprised. “That was too easy” you thought suspiciously.

“To have my family together? My own family? Fuck them.” He said decidedly “They’re nothing but a headache anyway.”

You had prepared for more of a fight and didn’t know what to say. Jack saw how thrown off you were. And smirked a little feeling a sense of victory. “So….” He said pulling you back and unfolding your arms. You melted as you always did when he said sorry or saw something your way. “Soooo?” He asked planting a kiss on you. “Are you making me a father or not?”

You hesitated to answer. Your concerns were real, but you could tell he really wanted this. Jack was a family man and a determined man. He he was close to his family. You weren’t with yours. His family became yours. They took you in and always made you feel welcome. Lately you had even had some heart to hearts with his mom. She said she knew how Jack could get and said she would talk to him and set him straight. It really helped and Jack had been making more of an effort ever since. “My mom told me to get my shit together.” He said “I get it now and I want to be there for you… and our daughter.” He promised.

This had you in full in tears. He held you close now until you stopped sobbing. “I know you’re scared. You didn’t have a family, but I am not going to abandon you or our child. My mom would kill me!” He joked trying to lighten the mood as he always did. Jack couldn’t stand tension. He wiped the tears streaming down your face. “Are you wearing the makeup from your brand baby?” He asked

Jack was random but this was really random. “Uummm yeah” you said through your sniffles “Why?”

“Because none of your mascara is running with you crying! I can endorse this product. Unfortunately I have put it to the test.” He said giggling.

His blue eyes twinkled and dimples flashed beneath his beard that was a perfect combination of being scruffy yet manicured. He had you in the palm of his hand and you hated it. It was then you knew that you wanted with all your soul to see his baby with those eyes and that dimple that you would share. This was a whole life with him. “Jack” you finally said having calmed down.

“Yes baby?” He said

“Ok.” You said

“Ok!?” He said excitedly

“Yeah.” You said “Ok, let’s do this!”

“Holy fuck! I’m a dad?” He said looking at you with all the hope he ever had

“Yes. You’re a dad.” You said smiling rubbing your tummy with the pregnancy test still in your hands.

“Fuck yeah!!!!” He exclaimed loudly flinging you around “Oh shit sorry baby.” He said carefully putting you down. “I’m calling my mom, and Urban, and Clay.”

🏷️ Tag List

@itsyagirljaz @jacks-daycare @killatravtramp @ride4harlow @jackmans-poison @heavyhitterheaux

#jack harlow #fanfic #jackman thomas harlow #romance #jack harlow fanfic #dramatic #pregnant #jealousy

59 notes · View notes

kitsu-katsu · 23 days

Text

I'm gonna make this post as condenaed and abridged brainrot to explain why Victor Frankenstein is my boy from 200 yr old media prompted by a tag question from @samathekittycat in a post I reblogged because that highjacking would've been too much

So. Basically every adaptation ever is way off, Victor in the og novel is a guy from a rich family, yes, but one that has it's own fucked up occurrences that shape him even though he says his life is the peak of idyllic and that can lead to really good character analysis

He becomes an alchemy fanatic at 13, completely obsesses over it, even harder when his father claims the whole subject to be trash and he's in general somewhat fascinated by natural occurrences as well, so he gets it into his head that he wants to change the world by attaining the alchemist dream of basically defeating death, and this is all exacerbated when he's about to be sent away to study in Ingolstadt at 17 and just days before his mother dies of an illness his cousin-sister-future wife (it's complicated, it's a whole mess with hiw mother's involvement too) contracted first, so his trip is delayed a bit, but he never really processes his grief and is not that interested in actual science at first until a professor he meets there validates the alchemists ambition and he starts to hyperfixate on science so bad he's surpassed his professors in 2 years, and with all this baggage, at 19, he decides he's going to decode the secrets of death basically, because as he sees it at this point, if applied enough in the right direction with a scientific method any mediocre man could change society

So he builds his creatire after 2 years of isolating himself completely to do it, so he finishes it at like 21, and the thing is, the guy basically did all of this in a hyperfocused state he started at 19 and influenced by All That Baggage and grief he has Not Processed, so he wasn't really thinking about the consequences of anything. So his creature opens its eyes and suddenly the weight and terror of everything falls upon him along with a good mix of uncanny valley, and he just. Collapses. He sleeps a bit, his creature's still there, and he's so scared he runs away from his dorm room and by chance meets with his bff who was back in Geneva with the rest of his family he hasn't talked to in 2 whole years, his creature sneaks out while this is happening, and when going back, Victor is so mentally collapsed and strained and also scared he mighr be called crazy that he's just glad that the creature's gone and enters a fragile state where he's just completely physically sick and done for for a Big While, he can't take care of himself anymore and can't even look at anything relatingnto science anymore

When he's getting better, he has to go back to Geneva because his brother died. Whoah-oh, it was the Creature. He confronts it eventually and it asks for a bride and promises to go away with her, this is a Whole Conflict, because Victor can't reveal what he knows or he'll be labelled insane, he also doesn't wanna finish the bride because she'll also be her own person and what if she doesn't wanna run away with og Creature as his bride? While all of this is happening, one family servant is being accused of the murder and trialed, Victor is squealing in a corner

Basically, he's very autistic, he's seen a hysteric, his creation of the Creature can be analyzed from so many different angles, from teenage pregnancy and postpartum depression, trans experiences (both transmasc and transfemme! I've seen excellent analysis from both perspectives, though I have a personal bias towards the transmasc reading), the process of artist in general (like, that point when you start drawing something and you start zooming into every detail for hours and once you zoom out again you realize you don't like how it came out at all even though you put so much time into it), his illnesses and disabilities both mental and physical are really interestingly depicted as well, overall, he's a very meaty character who was FAR from making everything right, in fact, he did a lot wrong, but he's also a victim of his circumstances, a teen/young adult in the whole duration of the thing, and is suffering tons of pressure from everywhere while losing his purpose and selse of self to his opposition to his own creation. They are the definition of "they can make eachother worse" and Victor loses everything. He's a tragedy. A tragedy that a lot of people wanna ignore and just say he's plain evil because the Creature must be plain good and they feel smart if they say the typical "Small brain: Frankenstein was the monster vs Big brain: Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster vs Galaxy brain: Frankenstein was the monster all along" and they completely skip out on all the depth this character has

I went super aurface level in a lot of parts here, but I hope it's somewhat understandable

I recommend reading the novel though! It's Good

#Frankenstein #Frankenstein 1818 #Victor Frankenstein #kitsu rambles #absolute ramble #if I went into depth on any of these they'd all be their own post #there's SO MUCH

9 notes · View notes

asterkiss · 7 months

Note

"i thought you believed in love at first sight"

Triangle Bill trying to seduce Mabel.

Writing whilst half awake.... Will add title later for now I must sleep.

She was having pleasant dreams involving herself, Xyler and Craz driving through the city streets in a shiny convertible. Mabel was seated in the back, a pair of large sunglasses propped on her head as she enjoyed the breeze in her hair. Xyler was driving whilst Chaz sat beside her painting her fingernails.

At least, that had been the case.

'Neon yellow and green, huh? Talk about bold.'

She snapped her head around to find that Chaz has been replaced with a certain triangle who was holding her hand as he examined her half painted nails, the varnish pots floating in the air beside him.

Mabel gasped, and her attention went to Xyler. Maybe he-

Nope, he'd also been replaced with the triangle who was driving the convertible rather haphazardly given his legs didn't reach the peddles. There was even a third version of him in the passenger seat playing with the radio and changing the channels.

'Arghhhhh!' she yelled, snatching her hand back. 'No, no, no! Get the hell out of my dream!'

The Bill besides her blinked. 'Whoah there, no need to freak out, little lady.'

'Don't call me that,' she snapped, jabbing a finger in his direction. 'I've had it up to here with you letting yourself into my dreams.' Her dreams were her special place! Nobody else allowed. 'Just leave me alone already! What do you want?'

The dream demon beside creased his eye in amusement. 'Oh, well that's pretty simple.' He snapped his fingers and a second later a large bouquet of roses was in her face. Mabel found her senses suddenly overwhelmed with the nice smell.

'Here ya are. Now, what d'ya say I take you on a dream date?'

Mabel's mind buzzed like static. '....Say wha?' She glanced between his various clones nervously. 'What kind of prank is this?'

'No prank. Cm'on, I thought you believed in love at first sight, Shooting Star.'

'Wait- what!?' Her eyes widened in alarm and she stood up just as the car came to an abrupt holt. She grabbed hold of the driver's seat to keep her balance just as the three versions of the demon amalgamated into one and Mabel met his gaze. 'Okay now you're definitely messing with me. That's not gonna work, Mister.'

'No messin, nothing up my sleeves, see?' He pushed up a black sleeve(?) on his right arm to reveal another identical black limb underneath it. 'So what d'ya say? One date? I can take you wherever you want, you name it.'

She stared at the demon. '....This is weird.' It screamed trap. Ever since they’d met the demon in Stan’s Mindscape, the talking dorito had been bugging her every chance he could get. Super annoying.

But now he was saying he had a thing for her?

Dang, her irresistible nature really had gotten out of control, hadn’t it? Her cuteness truly was a curse.

But maybe she could use this. The demon obviously knew things. If he actually liked her, perhaps she could lure it out of him with her womanly wiles?

Considering all this with folded arms, Mabel eventually spoke cautiously. ‘Okay, sure. Let’s go on a date, uh…. big guy.’

‘It’s Bill,’ he replied, looking mildly annoyed that she'd forgotten his name. ‘Bill Cipher. I’m kinda a big deal, so it shouldn’t be hard to forget.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

He huffed, dropping the bouquet in her lap. ‘Alright, prepare yourself for the best date you’ll ever have, kid.’

She grinned. 'Bring it.'

#drabble

11 notes · View notes

yaffles-world · 2 years

Text

Me, swinging the door open, panting and sweating profusely: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I MADE IT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYGIRL!

As usual, written as f/o self insert but welcome to (and easily) read as x reader.

Summary: Reigen goes to a carnival with Serizawa, Mob, Ritsu and Ren (OC) for his birthday.

Warnings/tags: some serirei, obviously, a brief mention of throwing up, playful teasing, lots of fluff

Word count: 2.3k (whoah didn't realise that)

Happy Birthday!

"Happy birthday!" Reigen's eyes jolted open, as he sat straight up in his bed. His eyes were bleary still, as Serizawa and I jumped at him, giving him a big hug. Mob sat at the edge of the bed, uncertain. I reached out to them, and they joined in the big hug, squishing into Reigen.

"What? How did you get in here?" he asked, his voice muffled against the collective hug that was still forced upon him.

I leant back, as did the others, as we sat around the birthday boy on his bed. "I let them in!" I exclaimed, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

His cheeks burned red, and he fixed me with his best glare. Serizawa looked at me with wide eyes, looking rapidly between me and Reigen and the door. I grabbed his hand. "Don't worry Seri, Reigen's just being grumpy because he doesn't like being woken up. He's really happy that we've come over to celebrate, aren't you Reigen?" It was my turn to fix him with a glare.

"Yes. You're the pain in the ass, Ren. I'm very happy to see you, Seri," he grabbed Serizawa's other hand, "And although it's a little odd, I'm happy to see you too, Mob." Mob smiled from their perch at the end of the bed. "Although, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to sleep." Reigen lay back down and turned away from us.

"You know what to do," I said.

"Stacks on!" shouted Serizawa, as we all jumped onto Reigen, piling on top of him.

"Nooo!" yelled Reigen, "fine, fine, I'm up. Now please, keep yourselves busy while I get ready for work. Because it's still a FRIDAY even if it's my birthday, so we're gonna suck it up and go."

We did as we were told and kept ourselves busy, but there was no way we were letting him go to work. When he emerged, Serizawa gave him a big bear hug, and Mob ran behind, tying a blindfold over his eyes as I tied up his wrists. "What?" Reigen laughed, "What on earth are you guys planning?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

We pushed Reigen out the door and guided him through the streets, onto the bus, and walked him to our destination. All the while, getting lots of strange looks…

"You guys, we have to go to work."

"No, you do not! There's no clients coming in today, we all scheduled time off for your birthday!" I explained, as we took off his blindfold and untied his hands, revealing the huge carnival ground in front of him.

His eyes were wide and sparkling, eyebrows raised, and his mouth opened wide as he took it in. "It's the Autumn festival…" he spoke in hushed tones, "I haven't been since I was a kid… Always been too busy for one reason or another…" He turned to me, tilting his head slightly to the side, smiling a lopsided smile. "Thank you for bringing me here."

I shrugged, and pointed to Serizawa. "Don't thank me, it was his idea." I said, squeezing Serizawa on the shoulder. Reigen looked up at Serizawa, his eyes somehow wider, and his smile brighter. Serizawa rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. Reigen gave him a big hug and Serizawa blushed.

Reigen coughed and straightened himself up, attempting to regain composure. "Hey Mob, have you ever been to this festival before?"

"No, Shishou," Mob shook his head, "I haven't. What's so special about it?"

Reigen gasped. "What's so special?" he repeated, baffled. "It's the Autumn festival! There's rides, prizes, and lots of junk food!" He slapped Mob on the back, excitedly, then gestured at the fairgrounds. "This place, is the place where you will find true happiness and make the best memories of your life!" He said with his typical bravado. I rolled my eyes, but Mob and Serizawa looked excited.

"Hey, Ritsu!" Mob yelled out to his younger brother approaching.

"Ah, Ritsu, you're here too!" Reigen said, excitedly, grasping Ritsu's shoulder.

Ritsu shrugged. "Happy Birthday," he said.

Reigen sighed at Ritsu's disinterest but quickly regained composure. He grabbed Serizawa and I by the wrists, and started pulling us into the fair ground. "To the tea cup ride!"

Serizawa went pale. "The… tea cup ride?"

Reigen laughed and continued pushing us forward. "You'll be fine! I hate rides, but this ones the best!" Mob and Ritsu trailed behind, as Reigen ran ahead, pointing out everything that's changed since he was here last, simultaneously acting like a little kid and an old man at the same time.

After a tedious wait, which Reigen said has always been the case, we got on the ride. Serizawa was pale as a sheet, and he held onto my hand and Reigen's hand so tight I thought he was going to break it. "Hey, you know you don't have to do this, right?" Reigen said to him.

Serizawa nodded, but his eyebrows furrowed and he clenched down his jaw, and stepped onto the cup first.

We all sat down. Ritsu looked completely unphased. I did invite him but he's mostly here for Mob. Mob looked a little nervous, but Serizawa, despite his momentary determination, was sweating bullets. Reigen's hands seemed to have more of a mind of their own then usual, flying everywhere, as he talked with a huge grin on his face about the ride.

Once the ride started, though, Serizawa was so close to breaking my hand. Reigen finally stopped waving his hands and instead, he furrowed his eyebrows and closed his eyes tight until the end of the ride. He fell onto Serizawa's shoulder as soon as we stopped moving.

I nudged him. "Are you alright?"

He groaned. "No."

Serizawa, on the other hand, was smiling widely. "I did it! I went on a ride! And it was… sort of fun!"

I laughed. Mob and Ritsu were talking amongst themselves. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself! I'm also glad you didn't break my hand!" Serizawa smiled sheepishly. He turned and seemingly just noticed Reigen, half passed out on his shoulder. His expression immediately filled with concern.

I nudged Reigen again. "Come on babygirl, stop being a wuss," I said.

"No," he pushed his head further into Serizawa.

People were filing off the ride, so Serizawa simply picked Reigen up, and we walked off the ride with Serizawa carrying Reigen bridal style down the steps. Once we were out of the way of people, Serizawa put him down, and Reigen's face lit up again. "That was fantastic! Let's go again!"

I laughed at him, Mob and Serizawa looked at him concerned and Ritsu just rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Shishou, you look pretty out of it," Mob commented.

"Nonsense!" Reigen exclaimed, waving his hands and patting Mob on the back. "I'm perfectly fine!"

"Really?" I asked. Reigen nodded. "Well, if your that confident, why go on the boring teacup ride again? Why don't we go on that?" I asked, pointing to a roller coaster at the edge of the fairground. Reigen followed to see where I was pointing. As he saw the massive height of the roller coaster, the upside down parts, the corkscrew, and heard the distant screams of the people on the ride, his face turned ashen. "Are you still feeling perfectly fine?"

Reigen glared at me momentarily before straightening up and smiling broadly. He gestured towards the roller coaster. "Yep! Let's go! Come on, you guys!" He walked forward, but stopped abruptly when he noticed no one was following him. "Aren't you guys coming?"

"Um, no thanks," Serizawa said, "that's beyond my limits for today, sorry."

Reigen rolled his eyes. "Mob?"

"No."

"Ritsu?"

"No way. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm scared of that."

Reigen scoffed, attempting to regain control of the situation. "I'm not scared!"

"The amount your sweating would say otherwise," I said, "don't worry babygirl, I'll hold your hand." I walked up to him and grabbed his hand as we walked forward.

He swatted my hand away. "I'm not a child! I don't need you to hold my hand!" I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was blushing and staring fiercely at the ground. Despite my ultimate goal of embarrassing him, I started to blush too - he was just too damn cute when he was feisty. "I, Reigen Arataka, am the greatest psychic of the 21st century, I don't need to prove anything. I'm not scared."

"Actually, never mind, you probably aren't tall enough to ride," I said, stifling a fit of giggles.

Reigen somehow blushed even more. He really started to lose composure, as he stamped his foot down in anger, and turned to me. His hair was matted down onto his forehead from sweat. "For the last time, we're AT LEAST the same height," he said through gritted teeth.

I grabbed him by the shoulders, and turned him to face me, stepping in closer so that our foreheads meet. It was close, but I was definitely looking down at him slightly. "For the last time, we're really not."

Reigen stared, then turned on his heels and walked away with his fists balled up tightly. "I don't need you!" he shouted, over his shoulder. "I'm going on the roller coaster ride on my own because I'm the GREATEST psychic of the god damn 21st century and I AM taller than you."

I had never seen him so mad. I bent over in a fit of laughter for a moment, before running after him, and tackling him in a big hug. "Come on, babygirl, you're alright. If you actually don't want to, we're out of sight from the others, no one will know."

Reigen refused to make eye contact. "I'm not scared."

"I know," I didn't believe him, but it was his birthday. Best to be nice. "You're my brave boy. But you still don't have to go on the rollercoaster, if you don't want to."

"I'm not a child," he growled, "stop coddling me."

"Aww, but you're my babygirl. You know you like it." I gave him a bunch of kisses on his cheeks, and he sighed.

"Okay, fine," Reigen said, "but we're going on that roller coaster. I'm not scared."

I threw my hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, whatever you say birthday boy."

We approached the roller coaster and waited in line for a while. Reigen really was determined to keep a brave face, but he was definitely sweating more than usual, and became increasingly rambly as we approached the front of the line. When we got on the ride, and people were getting strapped in, his facade finally fell away.

"Ren," his voice was trembling, "Ren, I can't do this. I can't."

Damn you Reigen and your inability to back down from a challenge. "Yes, you can." I squeezed his hand tight. "Your my brave, amazing babygirl and you can do literally anything you set your mind to. It will be over in a moment. I believe in you."

I could feel his hand shaking in mine, but he looked at me and nodded. I gave him a kiss, and the ride took off. He gave out a scream of surprise, and the next time I looked over at him, it looked as if he had passed out, which was concerning to say the least. But I was right, the ride lasted only moments, and when we stopped Reigen turned to me. He looked absolutely stunned, he blinked several times, and just got up off the ride and walked silently through the exit. Mob, Ritsu and Serizawa were waiting for us with big bundles of food and prizes.

"How was it?" Serizawa asked.

Reigen stood there for a moment, went to open his mouth to speak, and then threw up.

— — —— — —— — —— — —— — —

Reigen and I sat down together under a tree after that. Serizawa went and bought us some food, and Reigen slowly regained composure after a while.

We wandered around the fairgrounds a bit, playing games and eating junk food. No more rides. Reigen kept talking about how lovely it was, and talking about how things used to be when he used to come. How lovely it was to come here again, with all of us. Eventually, the sun started to set, and after stocking up on food, we walked Ritsu and Mob home.

"I hope you had a great day, Shishou," Mob said. Reigen ruffled his hair.

"Thanks Mob, I sure did. Thanks for coming, and also thanks to Ritsu."

"It was worth it to see you throw up, Reigen," Ritsu said.

"Glad to hear it," said Reigen, "See you all in the office soon."

We waved goodbye as Reigen, Serizawa and I walked to the nearby park for our picnic dinner. After eating significantly more junk food then we probably should have, we lay down in the grass. The night sky was dark and the stars were fully out.

As we lay there, Reigen reached out and grabbed mine and Serizawa's hands in his own.

"I had an amazing day. I can't remember the last time I even celebrated my birthday, let alone do something this fun. I love you both, so much."

Serizawa and I leant into Reigen, and each gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you both, too," said Serizawa, "you're both… amazing."

I smiled. "You guys, you're so corny. But I love you both as well."

We lay, looking at the stars, holding each other until it got too cold. Then we went home, and Serizawa stayed over, so we all snuggled in bed. Pretty damn good day. Even with the vomiting…

#f/o content #romantic f/o #reigen my babygirl #serizawa my perfect baby #reigen arataka #serirei #reigen x reader #reigen arataka x reader #serizawa katsuya #serizawa #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #fanfic

55 notes · View notes