#( gross wet sobbing behind the bathroom door) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

red-jaebyrd · 3 years

Text

She Made Everything Better

Summary: Dick has his first cold since moving into the Manor with Bruce. All he wants is the one person he can’t have – his mom. Bruce does his best to fill the void as well as helping an ill and still grieving boy find safety and security in his new guardian.

For @ckbookish

There are many things that Bruce wasn’t prepared for when he took in 8 year old Dick Grayson. Little things like enforcing bedtimes and daily baths; to big things like no swimming in the pool alone and making sure Dick stayed off the front foyer chandelier…or any chandelier in the Manor. The other was taking care of a sick child.

Dick had only been living in the Manor for six months and had yet to come down with any kind of illness. Considering all the stories Bruce had been told by well-meaning co-workers of their kids coming home frequently with colds; he considered himself fortunate that Dick had remained cold-free.

Until one morning when he could hear faint coughing coming from the bedroom down the hall.

“Bruce,” Dick cried, dragging out his name followed by a series of more wet coughs.

Oh no, Bruce thought to himself. Those coughs didn’t sound good at all. He followed the cry and coughs to Dick’s room and saw the boy laying down on his bed bundled in blankets and surrounded by discarded tissues. His cheeks were flushed, his nose was red, and eyes were glassy.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” Bruce asked, sitting on the edge of Dick’s bed.

“My head hurts, my nose won’t stop running, and I’m coughing,” Dick answered, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

Bruce quickly went through a mental checklist of what the boy might need while dealing with a cold. By the looks of the boy’s flushed cheeks, he likely had a fever. What was that saying, ‘feed a cold, starve a fever’; that didn’t sound right to Bruce.

Dick coughed and then groaned, snapping Bruce out of his thoughts.

“Why don’t you drink some water. It’s important to stay hydrated,” Bruce suggested, walking over to Dick’s nightstand and handing him his water bottle.

“No,” Dick whined with a pout pushing the water bottle away. “Water tastes gross, and it hurts when I swallow.”

“Understood,” Bruce said, a bit bewildered by Dick’s whining. Set the water bottle back onto the nightstand. He sat on the bed in front of Dick reaching to feel Dick’s forehead with the front of his wrist. Dick shivered at the contact. “You feel warmer than usual. I’ll be right back with a thermometer.”

“No,” Dick moaned, reaching his hand out for Bruce from under his blankets. “Don’t leave me.”

“I know you’re feeling bad, Chum, but I need to get a thermometer to see if you have a fever,” Bruce soothed, sweeping Dick’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. He smiled, taking Dick’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I’m not leaving I’m just going to your bathroom to get the thermometer.

Bruce walked toward the en-suite bathroom in search of the thermometer but came up empty. He searched all the cabinets, and they didn’t even have any children’s medicine, just polysporin, hospital grade antiseptic and, tons of band-aids. Bruce could have sworn they had children’s Motrin, but sadly there was none.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back,” Bruce said, closing the bathroom door and making his way toward the bedroom door.

“No, don’t leave,” Dick pleaded, reaching out frantically to Bruce this time with both hands. His eyes welled up with unshed tears. Bruce shoulders slumped and he sat down one the bed again, taking Dick’s cold hand in his and rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

Bruce furrowed his brow in concern at Dick’s behavior. It was extremely unusual for Dick to be this clingy and demanding when it came to Bruce. The two did spend more time together now that Bruce had changed his schedule a few months ago. Dick did like to seek attention from his guardian in the most heart stopping ways imaginable. Bruce quickly recalled the first and last time Dick backflipped off the second landing stairs nearly giving Bruce and Alfred a heart attack.

As Bruce had gotten to know Dick, he had learned that the boy liked being with people; liked spending time with Bruce and once Dick had got his fill of ‘peopling’, he’d be off outside or in his room playing alone. The boy liked attention, but he was far from clingy.

“Dick, I’m not leaving. I’m just heading to the intercom near the door to speak to Alfred,” Bruce explained, using his free hand to gently card his fingers through Dick’s hair and resting his hand on the boy’s cheek. “I’m not leaving.”

“Okay,” Dick sniffed, letting go of Bruce’s hand to rub his face with his blanket.

Bruce wrinkled his nose and handed Dick a fresh tissue from the discarded box on his bed. He then headed to the intercom near Dick’s bedroom door and pressed the button hoping Alfred was still in the kitchen.

“Alfred, I need a thermometer. Can you bring one to Dick’s bedroom, please.”

“Right away, Sir,” Alfred answered promptly.

Bruce turned and gave Dick a small smile, but the gesture wasn’t returned. He expected as much considering how poorly the boy felt. It warmed Bruce’s heart to know that Dick found security and safety in his presence. A little hand reached out to him from under the blankets. It made Bruce chuckle, so he made his way back to the bed and sat down taking Dick’s hand. Dick slouched low against his pillows blinking tiredly at Bruce.

“I wasn’t going to leave you. I told you I wasn’t,” Bruce reassured, trying to tuck Dick’s duvet around him with one hand and failing. Dick let go so Bruce could finish with both hands. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Just as Dick was going to answer Alfred arrived with a thermometer and a fresh box of tissues. He handed the thermometer to Bruce and set the tissue box on Dick’s nightstand. He then proceeded to collect the dirty tissues and deposit them in the trash bin.

“Will that be all, Sirs?” Alfred asked, moving the bin closer to the bed so it stayed within Dick’s reach near the nightstand.

Bruce stayed sitting on the bed and gave Alfred a rundown of all the supplies that they would need while Dick blew his nose. As usual Alfred had a pen and notepad on hand and wrote down everything.

“Anything else? Master Dick, would you like something to eat before I go?” Alfred asked, tucking the notepad and pen into his front jacket pocket.

Dick didn’t answer Alfred right away. The boy looked lost in his own thoughts, but mostly he looked tired. Poor guy, Bruce thought to himself, he must be feeling so out of it.

“Dick,” Bruce whispered, gently squeezing Dick’s hand to get his attention. Once the boy’s glassy eyes met his, Bruce took that as a sign to continue, “Are you hungry?

“Oh um –“ Dick stammered, and started playing with the hem of the duvet. “Would – would it be okay to have toast with cinnamon on top, please?”

“Certainly, young sir. I’ll get to it straight away.” Alfred replied and left the room closing the door behind him.

Bruce proceeded to take Dick’s temperature and just as he suspected after the thermometer beeped; he frowned looking at the number on the screen. Dick had a fever. Bruce was trying to remember if he should call a doctor right away or if he was supposed to wait two or three days if nothing improved. He’d likely call Leslie today just to be sure.

“Is it bad?” Dick asked, bringing the blanket up to his eyes.

“Well, it’s not good, 102.2, buddy. We’ll keep an eye on it. Make sure it goes down with meds. If not, I’ll have to call Dr Thompkins,” Bruce clarified, turning the thermometer off and setting it on the nightstand. “So cinnamon toast?”

“Mom would always give it to me whenever I got sick,” Dick swallowed thickly, looking down at his blankets. “She – she said the cinnamon had healing properties that would help make me feel better.”

“I’m sure it did,” Bruce said, brushing Dick’s bangs away from his face. “Moms are good like that aren’t they?”

Bruce tried to give Dick a smile, but it felt stiff on his face as he fought against the lump forming in his throat at the memory of his mom making him chicken noodle soup whenever he got a cold. He remembered loving the noodles and the broth but like all kids his age, Bruce hated the chicken and veggies. Over the years the soup was something that Alfred had tried to replicate, but to no avail. It just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his mom’s soup.

“My mom would –,” Bruce sniffed and then cleared his throat, but before he could finish his sentence; Dick’s face crumpled, and he started sobbing.

In the short time that Dick had been staying at the Manor, he had only cried a handful of times. Even after a nightmare, tears spilled down silently. Dick was always quick to wipe the tears away before Bruce could fully envelop him in a hug. Always pulling away from the embrace claiming he was fine as the tears continued to fall down his cheeks. Bruce had never pressed as he never felt he had the right words to say. Because ‘I know how you feel’ and ‘I’ve been there too’ didn’t really seem like great words of comfort.

But maybe they were the exact words that Dick needed to hear.

“Oh Dickie, come here,” Bruce offered, his arms outstretched and his own eyes filling with unshed tears. He gathered Dick in his arms and settled him on his lap. The boy practically melted into his embrace.

“I don’t feel good, Bruce,” Dick bawled, his breaths hitching from crying so hard. “I want – I want my mom.

The last sentence was said in a whisper in between sobs. Dick’s fingers tightened as he clung onto Bruce in a desperate hug.

“I m-miss her,” Dick mumbled, trying to catch his breath and failing. “I miss how – how she made everything better.”

Bruce’s heart sank; his own tears finally falling down his cheeks. She made everything better. It echoed in brain and he couldn’t deny that the boy was right. Of course, Dick missed his mom; it made sense that he missed her. Every child who felt ill wanted their mom to be the one holding them, taking care of them, and making their favorite comfort foods; not some stranger they’ve barely known for six months.

He hugged Dick a little tighter and sighed. They had come a long way these past six months, dealing with Dick’s anger and trust issues that had only been fueled by Bruce’s incompetence and neglect in the guise of protection. While necessary changes to his schedule were made to fit Dick into his busy life and it had changed the dynamic in how they interacted with each other; the change still didn’t do much to help Dick feel safe enough to talk to Bruce about the loss of his parents. Until now, so naturally Bruce took advantage of a missed opportunity.

“I know you do. I know you miss her so much and I’m so sorry,” Bruce empathized, resting his cheek on the Dick’s head and rubbing small circles on his back. “I know – I know how you feel, chum. I really do. I’ve been where you are and it – well it sucks.”

Dick nodded in silent agreement and continued to cry.

“I know it feels like – it feels like the pain is so much bigger than you, but one day it won’t feel so big and overwhelming,” Bruce comforted, wiping away his own tears with his free hand. “And – and while the hurt won’t go away completely. It will get better in time. For you, that I promise.”

Bruce continued to hold Dick as his body calmed from his crying jag. The boy’s breaths slowly regulating from shuddering gasps to hiccups. Bruce was happy to finally be able to provide such comfort to Dick after so many months of him pushing him away. His feelings were never hurt from the boy’s rejection, Bruce understood firsthand that type of vulnerability and transparency in grief can be scary, especially in an unknown environment.

He had hoped that their conversation today would help pave the way to more talks and further healing for Dick. Bruce was confident the boy would be alright, but these difficult conversations had to be something that Bruce initiated and participated in as well.

“Any time you want to talk ab out your mom or your dad; come find me, okay?” Bruce offered, giving Dick a reassuring smile. He wiped away Dick’s remaining tears with his thumb. “Even if it’s in the middle of night. Understand?”

Dick nodded, his breaths finally evening out.

They sat on the bed in companionable silence. Bruce hummed a tune he remembered his mom singing whenever she was knitting or just needed to fill the silence. He could slowly start to feel Dick’s body going boneless against his chest with exhaustion; his breaths gradually getting deeper with sleep.

Just as Bruce was about to close his eyes a knock on the door startled him and woke up Dick.

“Here is your toast, Master Dick,” Alfred announced, setting a tray on the other side of the bed. “I also added a few digestives and the last juice box until I can get the apple juice you requested.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick sniffed, still clinging onto Bruce.

Bruce brought the tray closer to Dick so the boy wouldn’t have to move from his place of comfort.

“You are very welcome, young sir. If there is nothing else you require of me, I shall leave to retrieve the necessary items.”

An hour later, once Alfred returned with the medicine, Bruce was pleased to finally be able to give the boy some much needed relief from the headache and congestion. Dick still wouldn’t let Bruce leave, so Bruce suggested they move to the media room to watch a movie.

Bruce covered them with a blanket thin enough to make Dick comfortable, but not too thick to spike his fever. Dick settled himself right up against Bruce’s side, draping a thin arm around him and using Bruce’s chest as a pillow. Dick fell asleep ten minutes into the movie. Bruce stayed watching the rest of the movie, carding his fingers gently though Dick’s hair relishing the closeness and comfort he was finally able to provide his hurting foster son.

159 notes · View notes

bakulova · 3 years

Text

Resident Evil Characters w/ a chubby S/o

Alcina Dimitrescu:

I think because of her chest size and her thickness she herself would be a little chubby. She’d probably have a belly love pouch . So she would definitely understand you if you were insecure about your body. But I also think she would help you love your body like she love on yours. When you are feeling very insecure about your body she will make sure to comfort you by kissing you everywhere and I mean everywhere stomach, legs, anywhere your stretch marks reach. Also when you try to go on a diet she will support you all the way but when she starts to notice its taking a toll on you, she stops you. she doesn’t want you to get hurt. She panics anytime you do that, she can’t help it. She definitely scolds you and shows her vulnerability after scolding you. Tearing up and holding you in her arms is a must. After that you kinda use that as a motivation to love yourself more.

She walks into you guys bedroom to which she finds you crying. Tissues spread all over the bed. You mid blow. She takes off her hat and her gloves. She sits in the side of the bed and worriedly holds your hand. “My dear? What’s wrong” Your head held down “Nothing” She moves closer and holds you face with her hands. “Clearly something is wrong” you try to move away, feeling ashamed. “No don’t move away from me love. Please tell me what is wrong?” you sigh and look her dead in the eye “Some maidens were talking about my eating habits and... my looks, wondering how I could be with someone so beautiful like you...” her heart almost burst with rage. Eyes in flames wanting find this maiden and kill them. “Who was it my dear?” she caresses your face with her thumbs. You weakly say “the one with a big birthmark under her left eye” Alcina immediately knew. Her daughters were always telling her about this maid doing something stupid but she was her favorite maid because she got the work done. I guess the praise got to her head. Time to take care of the problem but for now comforting you is the top priority. She climbs all the way in bed and tucks you in, getting comfortable. she sighs and smells in your scent. She kisses the top of your head and runs her hands through your hair. “Don’t worry love she’ll be taken care of by tonight. Pay no mind to what any maids in this castle have to say. You are the most beautiful person in the whole world, don’t let worthless beings make you think otherwise.” You smile and look up at her and nod becoming more comfortable and less sad. Alcina now feels successful in the comfort part now she needs to finish the rest.

Bela Dimitrescu:

Now with Bela, seeing as she is calm/quiet and the sister with the brains. She would see your struggles and silently observe. She secretly follows where you go seeing how you act by yourself. When she sees you crying to yourself in front of the mirror is when she’s had enough observing and more action. she dissipates into flies and appears next’s to you in a flash. She holds you from behind and puts her head on your shoulder, staring at you intensely.

“What?” you whisper weakly while sniffling. “Why must you do this to yourself? you’re perfect my love.” “You think so but I don’t” you snap back. She sighs and turns you chubby cute face towards her. Looking at your cheeks pushing your lips up reminds her of a fish, a cute one at that. She softly grins and kisses your soft lips. “Don’t cry my love. All that matters is that I find you delicious and hopefully nobody else or they’re gone.” she widens her smile. You nod and notice the blood on her face and quickly look back at the mirror and gasp “Bela this is disgusting” you say while wiping it off frantically, she starts giggling.You turn around and wet the rag you were using and start cleaning her to rid of the blood. She backs you to the sink (btw your in the bathroom and the door was open prob should’ve mentioned that before but oh well) her arms on either side of you, towering over you, licking her lips. You gulp at her sudden change. She leans in and kisses you deeply to which takes you by surprise by the passion in it. She pulls away leaving you wanting more and says “Please don’t tear yourself down my love, you’re beautiful as is...” you nod “as long as you keep kissing me like that forever” you both laugh and she takes hold of your waist and takes you to her bedroom for proper cuddling.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

OK with Cassandra she’s kinda in the middle yk. She can be a sadist but also caring but in a ‘I don’t show you I like you but trust me I do’ . She keeps tabs in you during the day. Checking up on you to see what you’re doing before going back to doing her thing. Whenever catching you feeling insecure she makes sure to try her best at showing her affection for you. Feeding you extra, kissing you, forcing you to cuddle with her. She just wants you to go back to normal. She doesn’t like to see you vulnerable. I’d also say she struggles to comfort you considering she likes to just kill, torture and mock her victims everyday so comforting is a change.

You were just simply sitting in the library reading while having hot chocolate considering how cold it was outside. Some maidens were cleaning the dust near you. You took a split look in case you were in the way and you couldn’t help but see how skinny and beautiful they were compare to yourself. You look back at your book trying not to tear up. You shake your head and close the book, leaving the hot chocolate not feeling confident to continue the day. Walking in the halls trying to keep yourself from crying. You suddenly hear flies buzzing, knowing already who it was you paused trying to stop the tears from getting ready to overflow. “Hello my prey~~” Cassandra hooks her left arm around you shoulders and whispers into your ear “whatcha doin?” You shake her off and run off hiccuping crying. It didn’t help because she just followed you all the way to the shared room. You collapsed onto the bed, face buried into the pillows. The fly buzzing returns as disappears just as quick as it came. You continue crying for some time, so long you thought she was gone. You sit up and look around seeing that she was standing there frozen. You stare in confusion. She then makes eye contact and moves forward and takes her cloak off for more comfort and climbs on top of your legs and kisses you deeply it shocked you. She pushes you back onto the pillows and continues kissing you. Once she’s satisfied with the make-out session she pulls away to admire her work. “So hot seeing you under me all flustered like that” you look away “No I’m not” she tilts her head “I’m not hot” you say annoyed. She gives you a stank face “You ARE HOT” emphasis on hot. You roll your eyes and try to cover your face but she caught your hands right before. “Don’t I wanna see your sexy face” “ugh Cassandra enough” she pauses for a second still holding your hands. she squints her eyes at you then just plop on you with her 6′4 self. “shut up YOU ARE SEXY and HOT. YOU ARE ALL OF THE ABOVE DEAR” it was so amusing to you that you started laughing and trying to push her off but to no avail. she stayed until she felt like you were feeling better. she sits up and grins down at you. “feeling better?” she raises an eyebrow. she admires you out of breath and stares to thing on 18+ things and grins widely. “if not I have an idea” her hands start creeping up under your shirt and that’s where we move on folks.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Now Daniela is delusional right? so I don’t think she would notice until a maiden or someone said something bad about you. she wouldn’t even notice when your in a bad mood. She kinda clings to you wherever you go so nobody says anything to your face. but you can feel the judgey gazes. They look at you in disgust but daniela doesn’t see them blinded by you and your beauty. After a while of you pushing her away constantly you blow up.

“DANIELA STOP LEAVE ME ALONE” she stops trying to cuddle you and her attitude changes. “w-what?” your eyes widened “I’m so sorry” you back away from her and run away while she stays still frozen staring at where you once stood. Her sisters gather behind her “Dani what’s going on? what was that?” Bela asked. She shrugs and starts to tear up not expecting that. she swallows the lump growing in her throat and excuses herself following fast after you. she finds you sitting outside under the gazebo in the courtyard... in the cold . she wants to run after you she can’t. she tries banging on the window careful not to break it but you ignore it. She curses and looks around and sees a nearby maiden and tells her to go out there a tell your ass to come back in but to bring a blanket. The maid instantly complies grabbing the needed blanket and bravely walks out into the freezing cold to you. she wraps the blanket around you and persuades you to come inside. You come in and immediately gets swooped up and brought into a room. A very familiar room in fact. You try to disappear into the blanket but nonetheless its torn from you and there is Daniela looking like a kicked puppy. It makes you feel so guilty. She pulls you in and sighs turning into a sob. one hand cups your head and the other your back. You both just sit on the ground holding each other. It felt like eternity before either of you spoke. “I’m sorry” you both say at the same time. You both giggle. She continues “I’m sorry for pushing your buttons my dear” she pulls away and caresses the hair out of your face considering it was windy and gross outside. You tiredly smile “no no this was my fault I was insecure and then blew up on you and worried you like crazy.” she purses her lips “no I’m pretty sure this was my fault for not noticing” she makes a funny face which makes you smile “I love you so much Dani” she blushes “I love you too s/o”

Karl Heisenberg:

This man now was taken away from his family when he was a child so he never grew up with affection. I think he would struggle with comforting you at first but he definitely gets better because he doesn’t like when the only thing good in this shit hole is depressed. So expect him to just glomp on you and stay there no matter what. With this he would be patient no matter what, you getting annoyed for him just staying there but you soon realize it’s just to make you feel better. Kisses and sweet nothings are a must. He encourages you and makes sure you know you are everything and more.

You were out and about at the village collecting necessities for you both. A group of men started whispering amongst each other. You didn’t mind it at first and continued shopping until you noticed that they were everywhere you were. Following you with judging looks. You shiver feeling the daggers stabbing your back. You sigh just wanting to get this over. The men started to get more bold and getting up close and acting like they were looking at the items. In reality they were giving you side looks. You continued to ignore until a burly musty man growled and shouted “I don’t know why were taking so long to get to the point!” You stop and look at him afraid now really wishing that Karl was here. You start to shake by how nervous you were. I mean imagine a group of men circling you and shouting at you. The men start getting too close and grabbing you and yelling in your face. Profanities are thrown around, degrading you for being who you are, manhandling but it all stops when 3 lycans come from nowhere and start attacking the men. The big burly man who started it tried to fight but figured out he didn’t have the proper tool to kill the lycan so he dropped the stick and ran for his life only to be stopped by Karl himself with more lycans behind him waiting to kill. The man bows before Karl. Begging for his useless life. This man was far over the edge to be given mercy. You hurriedly run to Karl tears falling. “K-Karl” he signals for you to go behind him. You quickly comply lycans coming up to you and rubbing their heads under your hand to which you pet them to calm your shaking self. Karl makes some sort of signal to which the lycans stopped attacking the men and leaving. Other villagers stopped breathing and watch this all go down. A woman comes up “Please please please forgive my foolish husband please!” she starts begging like her pathetic husband. Karl snorts looking at her “Your husband and his fuck buddies need to pay for starting shit my sweetheart.” the wife starts to cry and looks at you “please please stop him. PLEASE” she starts to rush towards you only for Karl push her back so she falls next to her husband. Karl starts sucking his teeth “see now you shouldn’t have done that” he turns and hold your shoulder and starts walking away lycans making a path for the both of you. Hammer on one shoulder you on the other. He lifts his hammer into the air and lycans starting howling?? and rush towards to villagers who screamed and run. You get one look back to see the man being mauled to death. “Keep looking forward darlin. You don’t need to see that” You nod and lean you head against him sniffling. Once back at the factory he throws the hammer somewhere and the basket of stuff you bought on a table. He picks you up with ease and rushes off to relax with you. You spent the rest of that night being loved on and speaking about anything other than that. “I will always protect you buttercup” he whispers are you slip into sleep.

Donna Beneviento:

Ok so I don’t know much about Donna but I know she is a quiet, shy and seems to be pretty insecure about herself specifically her face hence the face cover. So you too are struggling to support each other. But also trying to the best of your abilities. Like making sure the other is not lacking in an everyday things. I see Angie also trying to keep the spirits up by joking around and pushing you guys to do more. Also I think Donna craves for touch but to shy to ask. When she’s feeling insecure Angie will make sure to tell you so then you can go and hug her and love you. When its you who’s feeling insecure she and Angie will put a little something together with the help from other dolls. She surprises you by shyly giving it to you and waiting for your reaction.

Donna hands you a box, gift wrapped any everything. Lately you haven’t been feeling thee best but you continued living. You had looked in the mirror recently and just watched. The way you looked. Moving your stomach around to how you wished it looked and smiling when doing so but when you let go you stop smiling. That kind of feeling. You look at her confused to which she gestures for you to open it. You start unwrapping the gift and open the box to see 2 puppets. Cloth ones. They looked familiar? Then you turned them over and realized it was you too. A little Donna and Y/N. You giggle at how cute it was and also realized that they were holding hands and the puppets looked so peaceful and so happy. You looked up at Donna who was playing with her hands. You put down the dolls and giver her a big hug to which Angie and the other dolls start cheering because they had work so hard thinking and putting this gift together. You carefully lift Donna’s face cover and warmly smile. “Thank you my dear. I love them” she blushes and slowly works up the confidence to make eye contact with you. When she finally does she gives you a nervous but happy smile back. You cup her cute face and give her a kiss on the lips to which she returns quickly loving the affection. Once you pull away she hold onto your wrist not wanting to stop holding her face. “I’m glad you liked it love” and for the rest of the day was spent cuddling and doing things together with the puppets sitting on the middle of the bed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: This was not edited yet so excuse me if there are any words missing in a sentence I tend to think faster than I can type. Also I hope you liked this and more coming soon!!

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento x reader

206 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

late for dinner - ukai keishin

tw: body image issues

a/n: a repost from my AO3 lmao, so this might look familiar.

Ukai banged his fist against the bathroom door once again, impatient as ever.

"Y/N, it's been half an hour, we need to go." he grumbled into the seam of the door, hoping that his newest plea would speed you up. You had been begging to go to some fancy restaurant for months now, but now that he had actually made the reservation, he couldn't get you out of the house. He had even begrudgingly dressed up for the occasion at your request.

"I’m staying here." you answered and the quiver in your voice surprised him, "Go by yourself."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Keishin groaned, slamming his forehead against the door with a healthy thud. He tried the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. "I'm coming in."

"Kei, no." he swung the door open and looked at you. Hair pinned up, makeup perfect- it didn't matter how many times he saw you like this, you always made his heart race. He would have just swept you off of your feet and marched you out of the door if you were wearing anything other than just your underwear. Instead of wearing them, you were surrounded with discarded outfits crumpled on the floor. Ukai threw his arms up in defeat.

"You're not even dressed! What is your prob-" he cut himself off as he noticed the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. All of the tension in his shoulders faded as he rushed to embrace you, wiping the corners of your eyes carefully. His brow was creased with worry as he searched your face for an answer. "Oh, no, bunny, no tears. What's wrong?"

You gestured weakly to your reflection in the mirror with a sniffle. Meeting his eyes, the ones that always looked at you with such warmth, seemed impossible right now.

"Is it because I got toothpaste on the mirror again? 'Cause I can clean it right now."

"No!" the sob you had been holding back finally escaped your lips. "It's 'cause I look like that."

He blinked slowly, looking between you and your reflection, clearly trying to process what you said. "What are you talking about?"

"I look gross! Ugly! Bad!" your chest heaved against him with another sob. All of your worries poured out of your mouth between shaking breaths. "I tried on six outfits and they all look terrible and you look so good a-and you're gonna leave me for someone pretty like a model and- and-" You dissolved into a silent sob as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I swear to God, we must live in alternate universes or something." he sounded like his usual ornery self, but his trembling arms betrayed him. Seeing you like this, hearing you say those things hurt him deeper than you would ever realize. "Because I look at you and see the cutest person in the world."

You gently ran a hand through his hair, admiring how he had actually bothered to style it for once. Honestly, it was a little weird seeing him without a headband. "You're just saying that."

"Are you kidding me?" he pulled away to grasp your jaw in one hand, forcing you to look up at him instead of your reflection. "You. Are. Gorgeous."

He released his grip and began shuffling around the bathroom through the mess you made.

"Here, put on this black thing." He grabbed a rejected dress from off of the floor. "And those red heels I like."

"Keishin, I'm really not feeling it right now."

"Humor me, bunny."

You slipped on the dress wordlessly, your lower lip quivering as you held back your tears. As soon as the fabric hit your skin you immediately reached for your insecurities, ready to show them to your boyfriend, but his hands were faster. He stood behind you, turning you to face the mirror, his hands already gripped at your sides, pulling you back against him. He couldn't resist the temptation to grind against you and the feeling of him, already half-hard, against you sent your heart racing.

"Fuck, you make me feel like Hugh Hefner." his eyes watched you in the mirror, savoring every moment of worship. The hands moved to your stomach and he hummed into the crook of your neck with delight. "You're like my personal playboy bunny."

"But my thighs are-" you began to protest, but his touch traveled down your legs.

"I think about being between your thighs almost constantly." Ukai pulled one of your legs up and rested it on the counter, knocking over his collection of shaving supplies in the process. Like this, you could see directly up your own skirt. And, by the dark look in his eyes, he could as well.

"God damn, look how perfect she is." he cooed to you reflection, running a finger over your clothed sex, "I’d give anything to hear her say my name."

"Keishin-"

"Fuck, yes." he pulled you in tighter against him, exploring your breasts roughly with one hand and circling the growing wet spot in your panties with the other. "Do you think she'll talk to me if I buy her a drink? No- a goddess like that deserves more... "

He placed a kiss against your cheek, finally focusing on the real you, not the mirror. His heavy breath tickled against your cheek. "Do you think she'll come home with me if I buy her dinner?"

"Maybe." You nodded softly, reaching above and behind you for an awkward hug. He nestled into the affection for a moment before pulling away and smacking your ass, hard enough to make you yelp.

"Come on, bunny. The sooner we leave, the sooner I take you home."

"Okay, playboy."

"Call me that again and I won't be able to wait until after dinner."

321 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Father Figure - Disappointed

Prelude - I get so many asks about the same thing and so I put them at the bottom lol otherwise this would be so long. Also I combined them, RIP sorry pals I suck. Anyways, remember guys, bad people exist. If someone is hurting you or you suspect someone you know is being hurt, please talk to someone, please don’t let yourself settle into “This is normal, this is fine”. It’s not normal, and it’s not fine. The national sexual assault hotline in America is 1-800-656-4673 and it’s from a organization called RAINN.

https://www.rainn.org

They have a chat service too, if you prefer texting over calling.

Please stay safe y’all

Pairing - Stepdad! Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - Pseudo incest, manipulation, power dynamics, NSFW, noncon, dubcon, mentions of unsafe sex, slight degradation. Belittling, controlling Aizawa.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5nHTLEJ10zaqdnKqLriah4?si=Bs0su-fBRxWoE3jefCdPIA

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Why? Why, huh? Do I not provide you with very little thing you need, anything you could ever want?”

You dip your head in shame, sock-clad feet rubbing against each other nervously. “I just wanted to-“

“To disappoint me, yes, you’ve done that very well.” Aizawa’s tone is harsh, incensed. “I catch you trying to sneak out again, and all you can do is offer excuses.”

Biting your lip, you spread your hands quickly, trying to appease him. “I was just going to get you a present! For-for your birthday!”

A weak excuse, one that neither of you bought. Aizawa stood up from the couch, shaking his head.

“My birthday isn’t for another couple of weeks and you know it. Plus, we both know that you’ll be the only present I unwrap on my birthday.”

The sordid promise made your heart drop, tensing up as your stepdad came closer and closer, until he stood in front of you. Tall, imposing, irritated.

“I’m sorry….” You manage, staring down at your feet. It’s too intimidating to try and meet his gaze, those light grey eyes that fill you with fear and guilt.

“I’m sure you are. How are you going to make it up to me?” And there it was, the always-dreaded initiation. You often wondered how Aizawa would be like with a woman his age, someone willing and eager to please him. Would he force them like this?

A minute stretched by while your mind worked, trying desperately to think of some other way to soothe his ire. Every time you undressed for him, every time he touched your body, every time you were forced to touch him made you feel dirty, tainted, disgusting.

Damaged goods.

“I can choose-“

“No!” You cried, head snapping up, fingers flying to his shirt to fist in the soft fabric before you remembered yourself. “I mean, no Dad, I’ll make it up to you.”

The words felt vile in your mouth, like poison. But of your two options, having the slightest bit of control over the situation was preferable. Whenever your stepdad chose some way for you to show that you were sorry, it hurt. He’d introduced you to anal, forcing you to take his thick fingers deep, stretching you out with various plugs and toys, drizzling more and more lube into your hole until you were loose enough to take him.

This way, you could avoid his painful favorite.

Taking a deep breath, you steered him back to the couch, and the man sat, looking up at you expectantly.

You dropped to your knees, spreading his thighs with your hands, the limbs giving way easily. The waistband of his sweats was pulled down easily, your fingers hooking into his briefs to pull them down as well.

He was already hard.

“C’mon, don’t make me wait.” Your stepdad urged, one hand coming to lace through your hair, loosely gripping the aback of your head. You suppose it could be taken as a reassuring gesture, but you knew what it really was; a threat.

You kept your face neutral as you kissed the mushroom tip, a bead of precum wetting your lips. You’d earned quickly that making any sort of face at the sight, smell, or feel of Aizawa’s dick would be met with swift punishment. He’d shove his cock down your throat and keep it there until your legs went numb, until tears pricked at your eyes.

And you’d still have to suck him off afterwards.

So you kept your face relaxed, slowly licking along the length, fondling his balls, kissing the base of his cock noisily.

A long lick from the base to the tip before you took him in your mouth, tucking your teeth behind your lips. Your tongue took over now, swirling around the head, laving broad strips against the very tip, swiping the precum away on each lick.

Raising your eyes to gauge his reaction was a mistake, Aizawa staring down at you with a hooded gaze, relaxing back into the couch.

“Make it up to me.”

You sucked, hard, swallowing around his dick as you eased it towards the back of your throat. You had to build up to deepthroating, still had trouble with it and your gag reflex, but your stepdad was a diligent teacher.

He was holding himself back, thighs flexing aside your head as he stopped himself from thrusting up into your mouth, from hunching over and using you like a toy, making you gag and sob and drool around his length. Aizawa wanted you to do all the work, wanted you to show him how sorry you really were by making him cum.

Moving your head faster, you bobbed on his length, cringing internally as drool slipped down your chin, towards your chest. You hated when it got messy.

Aizawa placed his other hand against your cheek, stroking the side of your face, but you could tell that he was really feeling for the outline of his cock in your mouth, thick, stocky fingers pressing insistently.

You made a little noise of protest, quickly trying to morph it into a moan, pulling off of him to catch your breath. Your hands twisted around his length, stimulating him in place of your mouth while you breathed, sloppy, slick sounds being heard each time your fist met his pelvis.

“Do it like I taught you.” Were his next instructions, Aizawa obviously getting bored by your hand job. You wanted to kick, and scream, and cry, maybe bite his dick off.

But he’d trained you well.

So you took a deep breath before plunging back down again, moving your head enthusiastically as you throat-fucked yourself, willing your gag reflex to stay calm.

It was only when you felt his dick slip into your throat did your stepdad start to make noise, groaning a little bit as he fisted his hand further into your hair. He was subtly guiding you with the hand, forward and back, forward and back, but letting you move about freely.

After all, you were supposed to be apologizing.

“That’s it, just like that.”

His orgasm built up slowly, cock twitching inside your mouth as you worked him higher and higher, hands playing with the length of his cock that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You had to pull off once more to breath, chest heaving, desperately trying to jerk him to completion while his length wasn’t lodged in your mouth.

No such luck.

He came in your mouth, hips bucking a little as he released his milky seed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your fists as you willed yourself not to recoil, not to get sick, not to make a face or do anything else to earn Aizawa’s anger.

You swallowed it down without a fuss, hating yourself for every second you spent being compliant.

But what else could you do?

Cock softening against his thigh, you tucked him back into his sweatpants, leaning your face against his leg to rest for a second.

Your stomach felt warm, full. It made you so sick.

“That was good, you’re learning.” Even his praise was clinical, almost detached. You hated him.

“I’m still upset with you though.”

The admission made you lift your head, turning to your stepfather with a quizzical expression, hurt, feeling betrayed.

“But dad, I just-I got you off? Isn’t that enough?” You wanted to add a “please”, beg for him to say yes, that all is forgiven, that he wasn’t mad anymore, that he wasn’t going to hurt you, or make you do anything else.

Aizawa tutted. “It’s enough when I say it is, and you messed up big time. You think a measly little blowjob makes up for all the shit you’ve tried to pull today? I don’t think so.”

“But, wasn’t it-didn’t I do good? I thought-“

“It was nice, you’re getting the hang of how to move your tongue. But I think there should be a little more effort put into your apology.”

You wanted to cry. This wasn’t fair, you had done enough already, wasn’t he satisfied? Why was he like this, so creepy and gross? Why couldn’t you have had a normal stepfather, who treated you like a normal person, who didn’t rip away your autonomy and freedom.

Aizawa could tell you weren’t fond of having to continue, but he wasn’t fond of your behavior.

A sudden jerk from the hand in your hair had you gasping in pain, Aizawa leaning over as he pulled you towards him. Your hands grabbed for his wrists, but he was already talking, anger swimming in those grey eyes of his.

“I’m being lenient with you. Do you understand how awful you’ve been these past few weeks? You’re pathetic. You think I wouldn’t catch you trying to sneak out the back door? You think I wouldn’t notice the hickies on your neck after you come home from “hanging out” with your girls?”

Your blood ran ice cold, draining out of your face. You thought you had told your (tentative, maybe) boyfriend to not leave any marks, that your dad would notice, that you’d get in trouble. You though you’d gotten away with that little secret, with the fact that you’ve been seeing someone every time you tell your dad you’re just chilling with friends.

Trying to sneak out the back door had been dumb, but you had felt desperate, upset, detested by your life. Hating the daily routine of being assaulted by your stepdad, being forced to be obedient and docile and cater to his lecherous whims.

Spread your legs when he asks, suck him off under the table when he tells you to, keep the bathroom door unlocked when you take a shower, in the off chance that he’d like to join you.

Not being able to tell anyone, caring the burden of shame and regret like heavy weights on your back.

Having to kiss him on the mouth, feel his stubble burning your cheeks, the sensitive skin of your thighs when he felt particularly giving.

His daily “lessons” almost always made you cry, either his harsh words or his insistence that you learn how to please him, it was only your natural role.

A daughter should always do her best to please her daddy.

Even just a night of freedom away from his grasp was welcomed, savored as a treat. You just needed to get away, but even that was asking too much.

“So-“ Aizawa released you, and you immediately rubbed at your stinging scalp. “What do you think I should do?”

“I-I wanna go to bed.” You mumbled, eyes darting wildly around the room, focusing anywhere except the dark-haired man in front of you.

“Oh? I didn’t expect you to be so forward about that.” He taunted, leaning forward onto his knees, lacing his fingers together with a mean smirk.

“No, I want to sleep….. please.” You knew that Aizawa had intentionally misunderstood you, intent on making you plead with him for simple mercies like sleep.

Aizawa sighed, rising to his feet. You scrambled to your feet also, feeling too small and weak kneeling on the floor underneath him like that. Still, he towered over you, running a lazy hand through his dark locks as he regarded you.

“I can’t just let you go unpunished, what kind of father would I be? Letting you lie and sneak around behind my back like this. Your daddy is supposed to care for you. I’d never neglect you.”

You wish he would.

“I learned my lesson dad, I swear. I won’t sneak out, I’ll-I’ll stay home and have my friends over instead of going out! Anything, just-just not……”

Not whatever he had planned for the rest of the night.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing his temples as he circled a hand around your arm, beginning to lead you towards his bedroom down the hall. You wanted to balk, but knew that doing so would only worsen your punishment.

“Thats a start, and we’ll do that moving forward. But you won’t be getting out of a punishment. Offering compromises and begging won’t get you anywhere, even if you do sound sweet.”

Pulling you into his bedroom, your stepdad let go of your arm, closing the door behind you. He moved to turn on a lamp by the bedside, turning off the overhead light so the room was cast in a low, yellow glow.

“Strip, then on the bed.”

You trembled as you slowly shucked off your clothes, Aizawa beginning to do the same, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

But that was normal.

Aizawa was a fit man, able to manhandle you and pin you down, keep you still with the muscles hiding under his skin. But he was a father, and older, his body taking on the characteristics of someone who enjoyed life.

His thighs were thick, his abdomen sturdy. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but his muscles were overplayed with a nice layer of fat. He looked like a bear, with the dark hair on his chest, his thick limbs, his solid frame.

But the man wasn’t shy, and by the time you had stripped down to your panties he was completely nude, pink cock soft against his thigh.

“Dad, I really don’t want to do-“

“I don’t care. Get on the bed.”

You bit your lip, staying still. “Please, please, I said I’m sorry-“

Within a second, Aizawa’s hand was around your throat, his eyes blazing as he shoved you against the wall.

“This is what’s going to happen.” His voice was raspy, grinding out past his clenched teeth as he invaded your space. “You’re going to do as I say and get on the bed, or else I’ll use my belt on you until you bleed. Once you’re on the bed, you’re going to lay nice and pretty for daddy while I get everything ready. I got a candle to play with, and a couple of toys, and daddy wants to see how well they makes you moan for me.”

You were shivering, fingers scrabbling at the hand squeezing your airway, still allowing you to breath, but just barely.

“You’re gonna get all fucked out and stupid, ’n then I’m gonna bounce you on my cock until I’m satisfied, got it?” The man continued, his nose almost touching yours “Then you’re gonna wear a plug all night, and all tomorrow morning. I get to have you whenever I want, and you won’t complain or else I’ll cum inside, alright?”

Nodding your head, you felt tears rising. You had to do what Aizawa said though, you couldn’t take the risk of having the man cum inside.

“I’ll decide a better way to continue your punishment tomorrow, when I’m not as upset with you. Maybe by then you’ll figure out how to listen to daddy.”

When the man released your throat, you gasped, coughing a bit as you sucked in oxygen. Aizawa was already pushing you towards the bed, eyes trained on your figure.

The new knowledge that this wouldn’t even be the brunt of your punishment was devastating, and you felt your chest tighten up as you struggled not to cry. Crying would only get him to mock you.

All you could do was comply.

“I need you to remember-“ Your step dad catches you by the wrist, tilts your chin with a finger so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#tw.pseudo #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon.#aizawa #aizawa sensei #bnha aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #shoto aizawa #aizawa x you #yandere #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere aizawa #yandere smut #yanzawa #I like that

770 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

1K notes · View notes

pookiepoodle · 3 years

Text

Finding out you’re a Little ft. Inarizaki

I don’t own any art (except the lovely swirly thing). Please check out my masterlist and send in requests. This is an age-regression piece, so expect that kind of content (all non-sexual). Aran’s involves diapers as a medical need.

Suna

You wanna watch cartoons after a long day of studying for your upcoming university exams.

Suna smirks a little but doesn’t say anything, shrugging as he pulls you up against his chest, the screen flashing with bright colors.

You don’t even notice the smirk and you can feel yourself growing smaller, your eyes shining as you giggle at the silly antics of the characters.

Now, Suna has a faint idea of what’s happening. He’s always on his phone so he sees a lot of different communities and right now, you’re reminding him of something.

“Ya know Princess, you’re acting really cute right now,” he begins, his hands wrapped around your waist as you stare at the TV. You feel rather small and you can’t help but giggle, snuggling back into his chest. Suna always makes you feel so safe, especially when you feel like this. Though, you don’t tend to regress in front of your boyfriend as he (at least in your mind) doesn’t know anything about your tendencies to do so.

“You feeling small?”

That question makes you sit up straight, the cartoons forgotten as you realise what Suna said. Suna knew. He knew you were an age regressor. There was no way he asked that and didn’t understand the implications of it. But… he wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t grossed out or asking her to stop. So shyly, you nod, holding your breath as you wait for his response.

“Alright, how about we order some pizza for dinner and we just cuddle, keep watching your show?” he hums, making you smile brightly at the thought of having delicious pizza. But, even more so at the fact that your boyfriend knows you so well.

You’ll talk to him more about your age regression tomorrow, when you’re feeling bigger, but for now?

You simply cuddle him, watching your show with a happy heart.

Kita

You can’t stop staring at the coloring books during your weekly shopping trip at the grocery store.

Kita doesn’t say anything, letting you look over them all. He notices you keep going back to a specific one and will suddenly grab it, putting it into the cart.

You jump a little, blushing brightly when you realise that a) he caught you staring at children’s coloring books and b) he’s put it in the shopping cart, clearly intending to buy it for you.

Kita isn’t aware of what age regression is per say, so he simply thinks that you want to color.

“They also do adult coloring books, Y/N,” Kita says, pointing at some of the other ones, but you shake your head no. Those ones are too detailed, too finicky for when you’re little. You’ll only get frustrated and cry, so instead you prefer to use the ones meant for kids.

“That’s alright, do you need crayons or anything?” he continued, acting as if his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner wanting a kids coloring book was normal (AN: totally is).

“Kita, don’t you think it’s… weird?” you finally said, your voice small as you met his eyes. Kita was a straight-forward man and you expected him to be brutally honest with you.

“Why would it be weird?”

“Well… it’s a kids coloring book and I’m supposed to be Big-” you began, cutting yourself off at the last word. You’d meant to say adult.

“Big? Y/N, is everything alright?” Kita asks calmly, moving closer to you. You can feel his hand against the small of your back, a comforting gesture.

“Can… can we talk about it in the car?” you ask, trying to keep yourself calm. You knew it was time to tell Kita (you’d been dating for years now) but even so, it was a scary thought.

“Of course, we’re nearly done with the shopping,” Kita nodded, taking your hand as he led you to get the last few items. Throughout the process of paying and leaving the shop, you didn’t say a word to him, trying to figure out how to best tell him the truth.

“Just sit in the car, darling, I’ll load the shopping,” Kita insists, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs in the front seat, until you hear him get in next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to force you to tell me what’s going on, but I want to let you know that you can trust me.”

And with those words, you began to tell him everything about your little side, how you love to color and drink apple juice from your sippy. As you speak, he will ask questions as a lot of the terms you use are unfamiliar to him, but once you’re done, he gives you a small smile, reaching across to grab your hand.

“Y/N, when we get home, may I color with you?”

With a bright smile, you nod, relieved at how accepting your wonderful boyfriend is.

Aran

He finds your “protection” when he’s in your room.

He was really confused and tried to act like he didn’t see it, simply nudging the packaging further under the bed.

But you saw his eyes widen, his face grow red and you know that he knows.

With tears filling your eyes, you push him out your way as you run into the bathroom, locking the door as you sink to the ground, sobbing.

Immediately, he panics, trying the door handle but to no avail.

He has no idea what’s going on, but all he knows is that his beloved girlfriend/boyfriend/partner is upset and he just wants to comfort you.

You were a mess behind the door, sobbing your heart out as the events just kept replaying in your mind. He saw your “adult protection” which, let’s be honest, were just diapers. The fancy name always made you feel a little bit better when buying them, but now, it was just that. A fancy name for a humiliating product. There was no way that Aran wasn’t going to dump you.

“Y/N, please let me in!”

“No! J-Just g-go…”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this, okay?”

Aran could be stubborn when he wanted to be and you realised that this was going to be one of those times. He wouldn’t leave until you talked to him, even if it took hours.

“C-Can we talk through the d-door?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his tone gentle and reassuring as you try to pull yourself together.

You then proceeded to very shakily explain about your little space. Aran had his phone out and if he didn’t recognise a word, he quickly googled it as to not have to make you answer his questions. In little space, you sometimes had problems controlling your bladder at night and after waking up with wet sheets far too often, you’d decided it was best to get some form of protection. Once you’d finished speaking, there was a silence.

“I-It’s okay if y-you don’t w-want this, I g-get it…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes once more as you waited for Aran to agree.

“Why would I not want you?”

You immediately sit up, shocked.

“Y/N, I love you, a lot. I think it’s amazing that you’re able to find a way to relax and be happy, not everyone can do that. I think you’re adorable already, I can’t imagine how cute you are when you’re little. I’m so lucky, shoot, I’ve got the cutest girlfriend ever…”

“But what about… ya know…”

“The protection? Sweetheart, that’s not your fault. You’re so brave and smart and kind and amazing and I would be a jerk if I dumped you because of something as silly as that. Heck, I used to change my little sister’s diapers all the time, I’m not bothered by it.”

“I-I’m not asking for your help!”

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean- like if you wanted or needed it, I’d love to take care of you, even if you need help with that, but only if you want to,” he panicked, bright red as he realised that he was probably being a bit too forward.

There was another pause before the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened.

“L-Let’s t-take it slow… but I’d l-like to watch a movie with you.”

Osamu

You were crying because your mom said she thought she accidentally tossed out your lovie/stuffie.

He was really confused because you were at Miya Onigiri and you just kept crying, so he immediately pulls you into the back room, glaring at the staff to keep them out as he just hugs you. You know that you’re regressing but you’re just in such a panic that you can’t really care, clinging to him as you babble, tears streaming down your face.

Instinctively, he wraps his arms around you, gently bouncing you on his knee as he pats your back, mumbling that,” Everything’s gonna be alright, Y/N, okay? Yer alright, just take a deep breath…”

After a while, you manage to calm down, though you’re still trembling in his arms as you catch your breath. Of course, Osamu isn’t the type to just let things like this slip and he will immediately ask if he can talk to you about it.

“Alright, we need to talk about what happened, Angel,” he sighs, shifting you on his lap so that you’re facing him properly, though he refuses to let you go.

“It’s not that big of a deal…” you mumble, your face now pink and tear-stained as you look away from him. You’d always tried to keep this side of yourself private but hearing that your Mom might have tossed out Bunny… Even thinking about it again was enough to make you tear up, which your boyfriend noticed immediately.

“It seems like a big deal to me,” he replied, moving to wipe away the fresh tears,” C’mon, Y/N, you know I don’t care if it’s embarrassing or something. Remember when I had to call ye because I got food poisoning and that bastard used all the toilet paper?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, nodding as you let his thumb rub against your cheeks lovingly.

“So, please, I just wanna know,” he finished, giving you a pleading look.

So, you told him everything. He obviously had questions, interrupting you when you used terms he was unfamiliar with and when he just needed something clarified. You grew sadder when you started talking about your rabbit plushie, explaining what had happened and he hugged you to his chest gently.

“That’s awful, Angel, I’m real sorry,” he mumbled,” Listen though. I’m gonna learn more about this and if ya let me, I wanna be a part of it. I like taking care of ye already, so if yer willing to give me a chance, let me try, m’kay?”

You were so happy, you nearly started crying again as you nodded.

“How about helping me look for Bunny after work?”

And with a nod from Osamu, that’s how he became your Daddy.

(afternote: Bunny had fallen behind the bed and was found!)

Atsumu

You accidentally open the door with your paci in your mouth.

He notices it and smiles, wrapping his arms around you without even saying something, though he makes sure to close the door quickly so other people don’t see.

You don’t even realise that you’re wearing your paci until you move to give him a kiss, his hand moving to pull it out before giving you a small peck.

Immediately, you pull back, eyes widened as you try and grab the mouth piece back, humiliated.

Atsumu knows that look in your eyes and immediately gives it back, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the living room, where he pulls you onto his lap for snuggles.

“So… nice paci,” he begins, watching you blush adorably as you hide it in your pockets.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to meet his eyes as you wish you could disappear right now or that a coconut would fall from the ceiling and hit Atsumu in the head. Just hard enough to wipe his memory of the last 10 minutes.

“Do ye use it a lot or just sometimes?” he asked. He wasn’t teasing you (as you had expected), seeming to be genuinely curious about your little habit.

“Umm… just sometimes, when I feel like it,” you continue, blushing, nervously playing with your hair as you try to keep calm.

“If ye wanna keep using it, go ahead,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?”

“What? Has someone said something to you about it?!” Atsumu suddenly exclaimed, his eyes filled with fire. If anyone had teased you about this, he was ready to kick their ass.

“No, no! I was just wondering, most people think stuff like this is weird for an adult…” you mumbled, feeling self conscious. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even feel Atsumu reaching into your pocket and grabbing your paci. At least, not until he gently pushed it into your mouth, making your eyes widen. You went to pull it out, but he stopped you gently holding it in place as he spoke.

“I think yer adorable, Y/N. I’m gonna do some more research n stuff, since I think I’ve heard about this, but only if ye want me to.”

You pause, thinking it over before gently nodding, making him smile brightly.

“Alright baby, lets just relax for now.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #little space #little reader #little space headcanons #haikyuu little space #suna x reader #kita x reader #aran x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader

246 notes · View notes

creepytoes88 · 3 years

Text

Angry sex with Vinnie

So this is a very bratty reader and there is hitting in this I AM NOT ROMANTICIZING ABUSE! I can NOT stress this ENOUGH

THIS IS A EXTREMELY DEGRADING SMUT

But this might be one of my favorites I choose Bryce cus he’s problematic so it seemed realistic to me just imagine him and Addison aren’t a thing lol COVID DOESN’T EXIST IN ANY OF MY STORIES Covid makes me sad 😢 OK LOVE YOU GUYSSSSS ♥️🤌🥸

I’m almost done getting ready when I hear Vinnie come in the room. Vinnie and I are going to Jake pauls ( he literally has nothing to do with the story) party or one of the biggest parties in LA everyone gets shit-faced and either you have to crash there or you have to get a Uber. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless but I'm not gonna let Vinnie know that he's way too excited for me to bail on him. So I just keep getting ready and keep telling myself tonight's gonna be great, because it is gonna be great. Vinnie comes into the bathroom with his hair maintained and non-frizzy no matter how much I wanted to run my hands through it, I also knew Vinnie would KILL me so I resisted.

”Hey you,” I say with a smile ”Hey you look hot,” Vinnie says looking me up and down, I stopped and turned around with a straight face ”and absolutely breathtaking just say the word, and ill go ring shopping m’lady. Vinnie says with a shit-eating grin as he bows to me I smile ”well now that you mention it...” I place my finger on my chin pretending to think about it ” I would love a ring pop” I continue to do my make up as Vinnie chuckles. He walks up behind me wrapping his hands around my hips rubbing his thumbs on my dress before leaning into my ear

”you look amazing baby” he kisses the side of my neck ” I could take you right now,” Vinnie says in a deep voice. I turn around putting my hand on his chest ”don’t even think about it, I love you but we have to leave in 20 minutes and I'm still not done with my make-up.” I turn around again continuing to do my make up I feel a slap on my ass. I gasp at the sting of the hit ”such a brat.” Vinnie kisses your neck again before leaving the bathroom It's gonna be a long night.

Time skip to party

As soon as we pull up to the party a group of Vinnie's friends immediately take him away to play beer pong. I roll my eyes as I walk to Maddy and Avani, we get drinks and walk to the dance floor, about an hour has passed, and was done dancing and kinda just wanted to check on Vinnie. I stand up and tell the girls I'm gonna find Vinnie they nod and I walk in the direction he went when the boys pulled him away. Just more dancing people but no Vinnie, ok maybe the back yard I walk towards the back door and as I step out did I hear the most the last thing I wanted to hear ”KICK HIS ASS VINNIE” I hear people yelling ”FUCK YEA, GET HIM VINNIE ” I see Jordan and Kio high-five as they encourage Vinnie to beat the crap of someone. I run over to Jordan and Kio ”What the fuck is wrong with you guys stop him!” I screech at them Jordans head whips around with scared eyes as he runs to me and grabs me ”stop you didn’t see what happened and what Bryce said!” ” He fucking deserves it!” Kio yells kinda drunk.

Vinnie's POV

After the boys came and pulled me away from Y/n we played pong and shotgun a couple of claws (gross) before I know it I was feeling the alcohol. As I'm talking to Jordan and Kio I feel a slap on my shoulder ”ssssssup man” Bryce wraps his arm around my shoulder. I could smell the alcohol on his breath not that his slurring wasn't enough evidence to show he's drunk off his ass. ”hey bro what's up?” I ask

”not much but *burp* I do wanna tell you *hiccup* that Y/n looks like a million dollars tonight man” I look at him as I try to keep me cool knowing he's just drunk ”Like honestly dude*hiccup* if you weren't dating her I would totally hit it *hiccup* like her ass is perfect man, and her tits dude. Does she ever wear a bra I can always see her *hiccup* nips but it makes me so horny man?” Bryce laughs as he claps me on the back. I look at Jordan and Kio who look at me shocked, unfortunately for Bryce, I was far too buzzed to even think about what I was doing before my fist collided with his face.

Y/n’s POV

I push my way through the crowd and when I get to the front I see Vinnie on top of Bryce trying to curve his face in, both of his fists pounding into Bryce's face. ”VINNIE STOP” I scream immediately he stops and turns around seeing my scared face he stands up coming towards me but I walk past him going straight to Bryce and start to shake him. I hear him groan ”are you ok?” I ask as he slowly opens his eyes ”look I'm in Heaven” Bryce says with a wink before passing out all the sudden I'm being pulled up by my arm like a child. I look up to see an extremely angry Vinnie I could see him shaking with anger. ”ow Vinnie you're hurting me” I whine as I try to pry his hand off of my arm ”VINNIE STOP” I yell at him in front of everyone.

”YOU CAN’T JUST GET JEALOUS, BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF PEOPLE! AND THEN YOU WANT TO DRAG ME OUT OF THE PARTY LIKE A FUCKING KID I THINK THE FUCK NOT!” I yell at him with sass. As soon as the words leave my mouth I see his usually sweet and loving eyes change before me becoming almost emotionless. They fill with absolute rage Vinnie narrows his eyes at me picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder holding my legs so I can't kick him.

”PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN RIGHT NOW!” I pound my fists into his back and scream having an absolute tantrum, I'm so angry that I'm seeing red, not a few minutes later I was put on the ground.

Before I could push him away I was turned around and push against the car ”such a fucking brat!” He slaps my ass

”fuck you,” I say as I try to get my hands free I hear the car door open then the back of the seat being moved. Vinnie sits in the car pulling me I'm with him so I'm sitting on his lap and start to push on his chest to get away I know what's about to happen and I know it gonna hurt a lot. ”STOP YOU FUCKING BRAT!” Vinnie yells and finally holding my hands behind my back. Vinnie looks up at me and chuckles he holds my hands with one of his own, his other hand pulling on his belt wrapping my wrists together ”NO DON’T DADDY IM SORRY!” I say as tears start filling my eyes and my bottom lip quivers.

Vinnie looks up at me his eyes showing no emotion ”I'm not gonna hit you till I'm calm-” My eyes widen ”NO FUCK YOU!” I yell as I try to get away even though I know I can't but I don't want a spanking. I know Vinnie won't touch me till we’re home and it's a long-ass drive at least an hour or two depending on traffic meaning I'm gonna be hot and bothered AND my ass is gonna be on fire. I feel a harsh slap on my right cheek I let out an involuntary moan grinding against him ”STOP talking to me like that.” Vinnie rubs my cheek turning my face towards him ”you’ve made daddy very mad and after your punishment, we will be having a conversation about tonight right now I need you to take your punishment like a good girl.” Vinnie says softly rubbing my cheek I know he's trying to make a point about my attitude and he’s somehow being so sweet. I wish I could say it was me being extremely horny and slightly tipsy but honestly, it was just my pride I don't wanna admit that I'm wrong, for talking to him like that and hitting him in anger, which I have never done before, I feel bad but still, the words came out.

”NO! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” I shout right in his face Vinnie’s eyes lock with my own I gulp that was the last straw and I know it. All of a sudden my face is in the passenger seat my chest is against the armrest in the middle Vinnie puts his left leg over my legs so I couldn’t kick him or grind myself against him.

”D-Daddy don't please.” I sniff looking back at him with wide eyes ”I-i I'll be good daddy-” Vinnie lets out a dark laugh he then grabs a first full of my hair and yanks my head back I gasp ”I hope you cry.” Vinnie whispered in my ear before pushing my head back down ”Don’t fucking move or you get five more.” Vinnie lifts my dress so it's around my waist he ripped my underwear off throwing the ruined material on his dashboard. ”count” Vinnie demands ”How many-?” I start to ask ”DID I SAY TO FUCKING SPEAK!” Vinnie lands a hard slap on my ass

”OH FUCK!” I yell trying to get away ”thats 25 now.” Vinnie says as he pulls me back into place ”Now I said count, so fucking count slut!”

I feel the first one on my right cheek ”OW one” I said as I sniff holding my tears in. Another one SLAP! This time on my left I let out a cry as I try not to move an inch. ”TWO!” this time a tear slips out but Vinnie doesn't see it, his hand lands on my right cheek way more hard then the last one and before I could even cry he lands another one with the same power onto the left cheek. A sob escapes my mouth as tears fall down my face ”FUCKING COUNT OR USE THE SAFE WORD!” my heat throbs as he yells at me my arousal running down my legs. ”THREE FOUR!” I scream as a sob comes up my throat it hurts so bad but feels so good.

”T-T-TWENTY-FIVE!” I scream sob, my face soaked with tears and my wetness has been running down my legs, I could feel the puddle on his jeans. My ass is on fire and it's bright red with handprints all over the place, I have my head resting on the seat trying to calm down my breathing and crying. Vinnie silently runs his thumbs from the puddle on his jeans all the way to my slit, collecting all of the wetness from that thigh before sticking the digit in his mouth ”mmhm” he moans before doing the same to the other thigh, once again putting his thumb in his mouth again. I am however still sobbing ”you can cry all you want baby...” he kisses my red ass cheek ”you are just making me so much more hard.” Vinnie says before he licks my clit softly ”mmm daddy” I say with a small voice ”I’m still mad at you baby.” He says as he slaps my clit making me whimper ”please daddy” I try to grab his shirt with my hands.

Vinnie immediately pulls away so I can't touch him or grab him ”No, don't fucking touch me.” he says repeating what I said to him not long ago obviously, it had hurt his feelings and stuck with him. ”oh, daddy I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way.” I look back at Vinnie best I can from my position ”I really am sorry Vinnie, I love you.” I say with wide eyes making sure he is paying attention. He rubs my thigh ”I know you are brat!” he then slaps my thigh ”sit in your seat and buckle up I don't wanna hear a word.” he pulls his belt off and puts it in the back seat. A tear slips down my face, is he really that mad at me that he won't say I love you back, I crawl to my seat and fix my dress before I sit down soft and slow my behind still in major pain.

The pain makes me feel even worse knowing he's very mad at me I stare at my hands I didn't even realize I was still crying till he said something ”turn around baby let me see” Vinnie says softly. I look up at him and I sniff slowly I pull my knees up and stand on them and use the window for support as Vinnie pulls my dress up around my waist once again ”fuck baby I'm sorry” Vinnie says in a sad tone as he begins to leave light kisses on my cheeks ” I love you baby so much I'm just pissed at Bryce and then you were being a bitch about-” My eyes widen ” W-What? I was being a bitch! You dragged me around like a fucking kid!” I say angrily as tears run down my face ”you're a fucking asshole” I say to myself getting ready to sit back down but then I feel pain on the skin of my ass so much worse then before and it didn't feel like a hand.

A giant sob jumps from my throat and moaning I feel my pussy clench around nothing for the hundredth time this night. I whip my head around to see Vinnie holding his belt in his hand with an angry face and black eyes filled with lust and rage mostly rage. ”You never fucking learn, unless I treat you like shit so get in the fucking back! Don't say a goddamn word or I'll whip you with my belt again.” I gasp and I scurry between the seats my ass getting stuck between my seat and Vinnie's shoulder. ”My lucky day huh.” I feel him smack my ass a cry leaving my lips and I fall into the back seat my ass in the air. Another slap is delivered to my ass tears running down my face as I try to buckle up fast even with the pain in my behind, my makeup was definitely fucked up.

20 minutes later we pulled into a nice-looking hotel Vinnie grabs a napkin and hands it to me silently ”don’t say a word unless spoken to and just sit down till I come get you.” I nod as I wipe my eyes trying to stop the tears Vinnie steps out of the car and opens the back door on my side grabbing my hand and pulling me out after I unbuckle. I know this sweetness is going to be short-lived as it's just a front so people don't think something is actually wrong. Vinnie approach soon but first he turns around and asks how late room service is open ”24/7 sir” the lady says as she hands him two room cards.

”Perfect.” Vinnie says as he grabs my hand pulling me to the elevator the second the elevator door shut Vinnie grabs my neck and slammed me against the wall.

A loud moan leaving my lips ”i had to get the most expensive room so they wouldn't kick us out for all the screaming you're going to do from your punishments.” Vinnie licks my lips and cheek ”Open your fucking mouth!” he says immediately my mouth drops and my tongue falls out past my teeth. Vinnie spits in my mouth I moan loudly ”Swallow” so I did ”Again”

he grunts squeezing my neck and one of my boobs, my mouth drops open Vinnie spits but it doesn't all go in my mouth I shoot my eyes open looking down at the spit on the floor disappointed. I start to lean down ”Don’t baby I'll give you more.” I look up at Vinnie and grab his waist, a slap is delivered to my face ”I said don't touch me do you want me to spit in your mouth or not!” I moan dropping to the floor on my knees mouth open ”YES!” I say rushing to taste him again.

”I-I’m sorry daddy I won't do it anymore.” I say with puppy eyes my mouth open waiting for him to give me a gift. Vinnie looks down at me with a disgusted look tears fall from my eyes as I look up at him mouth still open waiting patiently. ”You're a nasty slut!” he slaps me before forcing my mouth open spitting inside. I moan at the taste and at the pain on my face I swallow reluctantly wanting it to last forever I then lick my lips and hold my cheek ”we’re the only people on this floor so strip and crawl to the room. Stay on your knees where you belong, for now at least”

He Pushes me to he ground It didn't hurt because I was only on my knees I take my dress off and my dra I go to kick my heels off

”Don’t! keep them on.” Vinnie says leaning down picking up my clothes as the doors open I see a long hallway and all the way to the end is a double door I crawl out and wait for Vinnie ”Come here, Now.” I crawl as fast as I can ”sit” my eyes widen I'm not a fucking dog I think to myself all the sudden I feel something around my neck.

Vinnie had fastened his belt around my neck like a collar ”Crawl bitch!” I gasp as my hands hit the ground we slowly move towards the door Vinnie behind me. I feel pain on my ass once again I whip my head around to see Vinnie whip my ass with my own bra. I moan I'm gonna have bruises for months, he hits my ass every once in a while I moan every time. We get to the door and he opens it with his key card. ”I have to run to the store you can shower if you wish and watch tv but I expect you naked and ready when I get back” Vinnie starts to walk away ”oh and don't touch your self, I'll know if you did.” he turns to me and looks down into my eyes before walking out.

I hop in the shower and then I lay on the couch with a homemade ice pack I made, with supplies from the room and the mini ice machine in the room, pressed against my sore ass. It's been barely been an hour, but I already miss Vinnie. I can't wait for my punishment to be over so he will hold me and kiss me I don’t wanna fight, I wanna sleep. My head lefts up at the sound of the door being opened. ”Get on the bed it's time for your punishment.” Vinnie says as he comes in with a couple of different black bags I Eye them suspicious of what's inside.

”Don't worry about it and lay on your stomach.” Vinnie says in a slightly angry tone I rush on the bed and lay my head in a pillow I feel Vinnie slightly sit on my lower back making the bed dip. All of the sudden my hand is being tired to the headboard then the other he gets off me before doing the same to my legs. I'm spread like a starfish and I can't turn my head to see anything. ”scream and cry all you want I don’t care.” and with that, he gets off me not a second later I hear him fiddle with the bags and then silence then I hear... Buzzing?

My eyes widen as I realize what my punishment is ”NO DADDY PLEASE I-I IM SORRY NOT THAT PLEASE!” tears immediately pour down my face I pull at my restraints even though it's useless. ”Maybe you will listen first then run your loudmouth Brat.” I feel the head of the vibrator enter me and I moan immediately pleasure runs through me I hear another vibration and then out of nowhere, Vinnie pulls a smaller vibrator out and positioned right at my clit. I moan even louder I can feel my first orgasm approach. I feel a slap on my ass ”n-no more daddy please I will behave and l-listen.”

I sob as he delivers more smacks to my overly sore ass my orgasm ripping through me another already on its way. I hear Vinnie start to look in the bags again he pulls my hair back ”see this” Vinnie shows me a stick or so I think. He pulls on one of the ends and it comes off releasing a bunch of leather strings my eyes widen in fear he's gonna whip me with a real sex whip my second orgasm making me shakes and convulses almost pushing the vibrator out. Vinnie pushes it back in all the way before he starts whipping my ass with the whip my third orgasm approaching fast ”AAAH MAKE IT STOP VINNIE IT’S TOO MUCH TO FAST!” I yell tears running down my face

”what’s that? turn them on high! ok whatever you say.” Vinnie chuckled deeply ”Nooooooo” I moan as the vibrations make my third orgasm be forced out I scream nonsense orgasm after orgasm driving me crazy.

-two hours later-

I was sobbing and screaming as another orgasm ripped me apart it feels so good but it hurts to breathe at this point. ”CORN MUSTARD” I yell the safe word. Immediately the vibration stop and are pulled from my body Vinnie unties my hands and feet ”BABY ARE YOU OK” he softly turns me over on my back and I hiss in pain everything hurts ”NO FUCK YOU!” I yell not meaning a word of it ”oh baby I'm so sorry-” I push him away I'm not even mad at him I'm just in pain and still unsatisfied ashamed I still want his dick and his mouth on mine I feel a Slap ”WHY CAN’T YOU FUCKING LEARN??!? DO I HAVE TO HURT YOU WITH MY COCK AND WORDS TO MAKE YOU FUCKING LISTEN!” he slams his rock hard cock into me I didn't even know he was naked till now ”UGH I HATE YOU.” I yell

Vinnie stops and pulls out of me he slams back in making me moan ”FUCK YOU, THAT'S WHY YOU’RE A SLAVE FOR MY COCK, YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Vinnie yells as he slaps my face. Begin to moan uncontrollably it feels so good I can feel him in my belly his big ass cock ramming into my uterus. ”FUCK DADDY IM SORRY I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO YOU I DON’T HATE YOU I LOVE YOU S-SO MUCH DADDY! IM YOUR SLUTTY WHORE PLEASE PUT YOUR CUM IN ME AND FILL ME UP, DADDY” I was shaking around his cock his breath in my face I just wanted to taste him so bad ”p-please kiss me daddy.” Vinnie looks down at me ”WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I KISS YOU BITCH, YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT BE A PAIN IN THE ASS TONIGHT!” I sob I just wanted to feel that he loves me I feel so stupid and useless right now. The sobs no longer from the pleasure but from my broken heart Vinnie slows down looking at my devastated face as real emotional tears and gasps left my body as I just laid there.

”b-baby?” Vinnie asks still pounding into me he stops still inside of me I look up at him and hiccup ”y-you don’t love me anymore because I said a-all those nasty things I d-didn’t mean it a-and you hate me now” I cry into the pillow Vinnie grabs my face wiping all of my tears and kissing me on the lips sweet and passionately taking my breath away.

”mmmmm” I moan into his kiss sliding my tongue in his mouth putting my hand in his hair and hugging his body close to me I was drooling at his taste kissing him harder and grinding against him. I feel Vinnie smile as he begins to fuck me again this time with passion and love not anger and resentment. We both are kissing sloppy and moaning into each others mouths as he pounds into me.

”FUUUUCK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IM GONNA CUM” He moans as he cums deep inside of me causing me to release ”DADDY YESS THANK YOU IM SORRY.” I lay there as Vinnie pulls out my head snaps up ”Nononono I want it.” I open my mouth for his slightly stiff cum covered cock.

”fuck such a nasty girl...” he moans as he puts his cock down my throat choking me

”mmmmm baby I forgive you, you’re so perfect in every way.” he moans taking his soft cock out of my sucking mouth I start to whine but Vinnie pops his finger in my mouth keeping me busy still I pass out.

Vinnie’s POV

”My sweet girl.... No more alcohol for you but I do love you very much you have never been so bratty.” I kiss her lips and turn off the light's pulling my brat closer as I snuggle into her neck I couldn't ask for more.

#vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker images #smut #skateboarding #bryce hall #jordan huxhold #kio cyr #angry sex

517 notes · View notes

eideticmemory · 3 years

Text

TWO GHOSTS | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right?

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Stop the World, I Wanna . . . - Artic Monkeys

Space Song - Beach House

May 16, 2002.

New York City, New York.

“[y/n] . . .” Claire whispered. “Honey, c’mon . . . just, try to sit up.”

You couldn’t. You just, couldn’t. It was as if your entire body was filled to the brink with sand — coarse, wet, heavy sand — and it was weighing you down, keeping you anchored to Claire’s bed. Your head rested in her lap, and your fist gripped, tightly, onto the fabric of her jeans — which were stained with your tears. Her hand ran along your spine, and her arm wrapped around you, protectively. She wanted to shield you, she wanted to keep you safe, happy. She wanted to distract you from your luggage laid out on the floor.

But, the pressure of her body, coddling you, God, it just hurt. Everything hurt, and you couldn’t get it to stop, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, ugly sobbing, snot running down your lips.

“Cl—Claire . . .” you whined. “I . . . I . . .” your hand flew to your mouth, muffling a loud and painful sob that echoed throughout the room.

“I know, I know . . .” she cooed, kissed the top of your head, and ran her hand over your hair. “It’s okay, don’t try to talk, just rest.”

Claire held you, all day and all night on May 16, 2002. She held you until you lost your voice, until you cried yourself to sleep, and after that, she still held you.

Because it was May 16, 2002.

And May 16, 2002 was day one without Matthew Gubler.

After crying yourself to sleep that morning, you awoke alone in Claire’s bedroom that night. You rubbed your tired and sore eyes, and sat up, surprised to see the sun had gone down. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was sore. Claire had left you a bottle of water, and you chugged it in one gulp. You stood from the bed, slowly and groggily, stumbling your way through the boxes of clothes, and decorations that Claire hadn’t even put up yet.

You wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, and switched on the light. You didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Only a faint resemblance of what you looked like that morning, before the airport, before the tears.

You had dressed up. Did your makeup. And now, your clothes were wrinkled, and your face was smeared with mascara. You looked miserable, you felt miserable, you were miserable.

Claire walked in just as another tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at her reflection, and saw she was eyeing you, sadly.

“Hey,” she attempted to smile. She stepped over to you and held onto your shoulders, catching you as you fell back, dramatically, into her arms.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispered. You hiccuped as you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her. “It’s just day one . . .” she said. “It’s just . . . day one.”

And it’s true, what everyone says: one day turns into one month, and one month turns into one year.

And one year turns into one decade.

October 13, 2017.

New York City, New York.

Today, is Friday the thirteenth.

Day 5,629 without Matthew Gubler.

And somehow, someway, you feel just as stuck, and frozen, and scared shitless as you did on day one.

You haven’t felt this way in a very long time, though. And of all the days, of all the nights, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

A knock rings at the dressing room door, startling you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, and found yourself, once again, focused on your reflection.

You know this person. You’ve spent 5,629 days growing into this person. And y’know what? She’s fucking hot.

“[y/n]!” Another knock follows.

“I’m coming!”

“When?”

“Ramona, I will fire you, and trust me, I really need an assistant!” You shout, fixing your dress in the mirror once again.

“Oh, yeah, right. Then who would make your coffee and make sure you’re on time?” she replied. “. . . You’re late!”

“Okay!” You stumbled to the door in your heels, flung it open, putting your hand on your hip.

“Wow . . .” Ramona said, nearly speechless. “You look . . . hot.”

“That is not how you speak to your boss, dude,” you laughed. “You really think I look hot?”

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kind of hot.” She winks.

You chuckle, “Thanks, I needed that. Walk with me.”

“Okay, um,” she starts, walking beside you as you strut down the hall. “Hair and makeup are gonna take care of you in no less than thirty minutes, that gives you, approximately, two minutes to get into the studio.”

“Two minutes?” You stop in your tracks. “That’s it?”

She can’t help but grin, just a little, “Told you you were late.”

You scoffed, “Okay, so are we shooting when I step into the studio?”

“Yep!”

“Great . . .” you sigh, walking over to the cosmetic chair.

“But, hey, you’re the big boss, they can’t film without you.”

“Yeah, except big boss told everyone we’re filming at seven sharp, and big boss probably won’t even be ready at seven sharp!” You ramble.

“Okay . . .” Ramona nods, slowly. “Are ever gonna tell me why you’re so nervous about tonight, or . . ?”

“Uh, why am I nervous about a major, televised, celebrity event that I not only put together myself, but choreographed?” You rambled. “I don’t know, pick a reason!”

“Wow . . .” She says. “As valid as all those reasons are, I think something else is going on and I will find out, so you might as well spill.”

“Can’t talk!” You pip. “Getting my makeup done! Tell them I’ll be in at seven.”

You exhaled deeply the minute Ramona stepped away, closing your eyes. Not opening them until your hair was done perfectly, and the makeup artist added her final touches.

You, once again, came face to face with your reflection.

“[y/n]!”

But you didn’t have time to process it.

“[y/n], cameras are rolling, thirty seconds to seven.”

Of all the days, of all the nights, you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

“[y/n]!”

Because you are the big boss now.

Your purple dress — perfectly matched to the NYU logo — hugs your body tightly as you walk across the floor, the hem splayed over feet, which are covered in tall, silver heels. The clack of your shoes silences everyone as you walk by. Everyone, except for Ramona, who steps in before you can enter the studio.

She clips an NYU pin to your dress, “For good luck,” she smiles.

“3, 2, 1 . . . rolling.”

You enter the studio, and the room fills with a flood of “oooooh!” from each and every one of your students. The camera pans over their faces as you walk across the hardwood floor, smiling at them, laughing at their expressions. Their jaws are dropped, hands clutched over their chests.

“[y/n]! Holy shit!”

“Hey!” You laugh. “Language! We’re rolling!”

“You look great!”

“Thank you, how are you all?” You ask.

“Nervous, thanks for asking.” They all laugh.

“You guys will be fine, I’m an excellent teacher,” you giggle.

“Damn right, but are you sure you can’t hold our hands while we’re on stage? Just for a little bit?”

“Big babies!” You shake your head. “You’re ready. Signals from off camera indicated a time crunch, and you quickly brought the group together for a big hug.

It’s been a long time coming. Tonight. Or, as printed on all invitations and promotional materials:

New York University’s 2017 Celebrity Alumni Event: In Support of the Ballet class of 2017.

Coordinated and Choreographed by [y/n] [y/l/n], executive producer and star of the hit reality show, New York Best and Ballet.

Big boss.

The camera follows you as you exit the studio, walk down the hall, “They’re gonna kill it,” you smile into the lense. “I know it.”

All you can think about is the blatant, gross hypocrisy. The way you’re completely, beyond a shadow of doubt, confident in your students and their ability to pull this off.

And you can’t even say the same thing about yourself.

With the cameras off of you, you put your hand against the wall, and steady yourself. Ramona walks up to you, walking along your side. “Got you a water, you should stay hydrated tonight.”

You give her an appreciative look, taking the bottle of water and standing up straight, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“I guess not, guests are starting to arrive.”

“Holy shit, already?” You gasp.

“You did plan this thing, right?”

“Ugh,” you huff, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“You’re expected in the ballroom, a margarita will be waiting for you at the bar.” Ramona grins.

You continue down the hallway, as she watches you walk away, a crew of people following behind you.

“[y/n]!” Ramona calls.

You turn to her, stopping in your steps.

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kinda hot,” she smiles.

You laugh, out loud, and give her a nod. Then, you continue on your way downstairs.

More people had already arrived than you thought. The ballroom was packed, covered by a sea of people, tables, cameras and crew meandering through the crowd to catch every ounce of footage they could. You were filmed as you walked down the steps, passing the stage and stepping onto the floor with a grand smile.

“Pretty good turn out, huh?” You chuckled, beaming at the camera as you branch out to greet your guests.

This helps.

The smiles, the laughs, the presence of people that support you and your program enough to show up, pay a lot of money, and witness the magic of NYU ballet in all its glory. The light highlights the brightness of your smile, the glow around you in your element. Your chuckle echoing around the room, as you coasted from table to table, person to person, thanking them for coming.

Reconnections were made, stories were told, and retold, and thoughts of college had you blushing on the spot. You’re so lost in the whirlwind of energy, of being the proper hostess, and managing everything in sight, you didn’t notice that an hour had passed.

Until a crew member taps you on the shoulder, and tells you it’s five minutes to show time.

“Excuse me,” you nod, removing yourself from your current conversation and heading backstage.

You blow kisses to the band of nervous students, give them two thumbs up as cameras trailed behind you. “And . . . you’re on, [y/n].”

You stand up straight, hand your margarita off to a crew member, take in a deep breath. And walk. You march up to the podium, the bright lights beating down on you as you stand in front of the large crowd.

“Hello, everybody, welcome!” You announce, bringing the room to a gentle silence. “Thank you all so much for being here. I’m [y/n] [y/l/n], director and head of the ballet department here at New York University.”

You become flustered at the wave of applause, cheering the crowd and backstage. “Thank you, thank you so much. As a NYU alumni, there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to teach this extraordinary class of students. They’re focused, they’re determined, incredibly talented, and the best of the best. So, without further ado, I present to you the NYU ballet class of 2017, presenting a remastered rendition of their first performance in 2014.”

You exited the stage, the curtain behind you shielding the students that were already positioned in place. You stood backstage, watching them on screen, with your hands bound against your chest. The curtain was drawn, the music kicked up, and they went.

They move effortlessly, dare you say it . . . perfectly. In sync, and with a wide range of motion that rolled without a hitch. The crowd watched in awe, and you were right there along with them. Cameras focus on your face as you’re entranced by the class, and so immensely proud.

“They’re incredible,” you beam. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The full set took about half an hour, and when the curtain flies down, closing dramatically, you jump up and down, and run over to the group of kids who couldn’t wait to see you. The joy can be felt through the lense of every camera trained on you.

Their energy and excitement is putting you on cloud nine. Your own adrenaline is rushing, and pumping in your ears.

You let your guard down. You hand out kisses and hugs left and right, and step back in the crowd on a high, head empty, no thoughts. No feelings except for happiness and pride.

“That was incredible, [y/n], absolutely incredible.”

“Wonderful show!”

You were saying thank you faster than you could hear the accolades, caught in a rush of people passing you by.

You turn to see your students trailing behind you, shaking hands as they’re showered in praise. You grin at them, entirely consumed with elation by their looks of satisfaction, of relief, of relaxation and accomplishment.

You let your guard down.

You got comfortable.

“[y/n]!”

You let yourself slip.

“[y/n], [y/n]!” A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn around, a smile still plastered across your face.

“You know Matthew, right?” Your co-producer asked. “You guys graduated the same year?”

You nearly collide with him. You stop on the toe of your heels, and come to a screeching halt. Your eyes connect like magnets, the pull is strong and intense. Your breath catches in your throat, you smile fading along with your breath. You instantly begin to sweat under the light of the cameras, your skin heating up, your hands shaking.

“U—u—uh,” you stutter. “Yes! Hi!”

“Hi, [y/n]!” He exclaims, happily, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

And he smells, so good. He’s grown, and it feels different holding his tall frame in your arms. But the embrace is quick, and brief, and he holds your shoulders in his palms as he speaks to you, “The show was amazing, blew me away!”

You’re expected to talk. You’re expected to breathe. But you’re left speechless by the scruff lining his jaw, the curl atop his head, the suit shaping his body, and topped off with a jet black bow tie.

“Thank you, thank you,” you ramble. “Thanks for coming, um, let’s catch up later,” you nod, to which he politely nods back, and clears a path for you to walk on by.

You let your guard down.

And now you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Your feet were killing you by the end of the night. You didn’t get to take a proper seat — without the cameras, and the crew, and the crowd, until nearly ten o’clock at night. As you were trying to regroup, Ramona found you hiding away in your dressing room, halfway asleep.

“[y/n]?” she taps your shoulder. You groggily lift your head, and look to her, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. It can take you home or to the hotel across the street. What do you think?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Hotel. Hotel is fine.”

The Lillian Hotel had been acquired specifically for tonight’s event. A cozy room, with an even cozier bed was waiting for you, calling your name. And after tonight, after day 5,629, it’s all you can think about.

You give Ramona a quick hug, and thank her for everything before you sneak out of the building. You take the back exit, avoiding an entanglement of people and paparazzi.

The atmosphere of the elegant hotel was much calmer. You were given the key to your room, and you turned on your heels to head to the elevators. Your shoes created an echo against the tile, and the sound suddenly silenced when you saw him. Waiting for the elevator.

“Matthew?” You call, timidly. The courage comes out of nowhere, flies out of your chest before you can catch it in your throat.

He stops in his tracks, and turns to you, holding the strap of his bag. “Hey!” he grins.

You give him a shy smile, as you let out a dry laugh and step closer to him.

His eyes darken, not noticeably, but just a little. He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and all you can say is . . .

“Matthew . . .” you clear your throat. “Thank you for coming tonight, and supporting the program, and for . . . being so professional about everything, I know it . . . couldn’t have been easy, I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrows furrow, only for a second, and his face almost goes blank. He looks down at his shoes, taps his foot as his mind swirls with words to say. But all he can is chuckle. Laugh.

“I knew you were gonna do this,” he says.

You tilt your head, “Do what?”

“This . . . think . . . think that what I did today had anything to do with you.”

“I—“ you stutter. “Okay . . .”

“I came tonight to see friends, to catch up, to visit New York. And I knew I would see you, and I knew . . . I knew you’d, I don’t know, expect me to fall to my knees the second I saw you. I can’t do that . . . I, personally, see no reason to do that. I acted professional, because I am professional, not to cushion your feelings.”

And although, he’s changed, he’s grown, he’s matured, and he’s a completely different person than when you saw him last, Matthew Gubler still knows how to make a dramatic exit.

He turns away from you and continues down the hall, boarding the elevator without looking back at you. You — who’s paralyzed, stuck, scared shitless. Standing in the foyer of the hotel lobby, wondering why you’re unable to move, to breathe, to keep your eyes from misting.

And back to day zero.

You knew for sure that you’d struggle to sleep. That Matthew’s word would eat at your gut and brain like a parasite, haunting you, rattling around your head. But, the second your head hits the pillow, you were out like a light.

And you dreamt of him instead.

The way he was 15 years ago.

The way he made you feel.

Bing, bing, bing!

“Huh!” You jolt awake, spasming out of your sleep violently. Suddenly, the sun had risen again, and it was burning your eyes through the windows.

Bing, bing, bing!

“What the—“ You sit up, rub your face, and anxiously search for your phone, wondering why you were being called so early in the morning.

Ramona’s name flashed upon the screen, and you swiped to accept her call. “Hello?”

“[y/n] . . .”

“Ramona . . .” you slur.

“Have you checked twitter this morning?”

“Tw — no? No, it’s . . . seven in the morning, of course I haven’t checked Twitter.”

“Check it.”

“Ra—“

“Check it!” She shouts.

You groan, and navigate to the Twitter app. “Oh . . . oh, I’m trending . . . that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, check who you’re trending with . . .”

“Okay . . .”

Clicking on your name, you instantly sat forward, your eyes going wide, “NO!”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

#mine #esny #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction

318 notes · View notes

carelessannie · 3 years

Text

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 9)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Read the Dating OneShots

Word count: 6.8K

PeterxBuckyxOFC, WinterSpider, Winterhawk, Stucky, Winteriron

Bucky's POV -> no one is ready for Peter’s heat to start, much less Bucky, and now he’s gotta struggle through his own emotions. Damn these hormones.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, explicit d/s abo smut, sex toys, anal/vaginal/oral sex, Steve likes cleaning up Bucky with his tongue, kinda gross cum sharing *shrug*, Tony tries to take Bucky in public at one point

---

Maybe it goes like this:

“Steve! Fuck, Alpha! Help!”

Bucky tears through the house carrying Peter in his arms, screaming for his Alpha. He found Peter collapsed in the hall moments ago, and his instincts are chanting Alpha, Alpha, Alpha will know what to do.

“Buck, what the—” Steve sprints into view, but comes to a stop abruptly, as if running into a wall. He takes a slow step backwards, straightening his posture and covering his nose with one hand— feeling around the wall with the other, “Buck. Bucky. Code Papa-Niner.”

Papa-Niner? Nesting protocol?

The look in Steve’s eyes says he’s definitely not joking, and Bucky doesn’t hesitate, immediately setting a course for the downstairs nest.

Once he reaches the nesting hallway, it’s quick work to prepare the room for lockdown— pulling down the steel temporary barriers that Tony installed recently, locking the front doors to the den and pressing the emergency button. With the temporary security measures in place, Bucky goes through their previously agreed upon nesting procedures: he gathers scent-marked linens, food, liquids, knotting toys, restraints, and Omegas— of which they are one short. After he checks on their resources and lays out the other materials, it’s time to wait.

“Hey, Bucky? You in there?”

It’s Clint, and Bucky heaves a sigh of relief. He lays Peter back down in the sheets, swaddling him gently, before crawling out to meet Clint beyond the barriers.

“Where’s Annie?” Bucky demands, positioning his body to make sure the Beta can’t see into the room.

Clint stumbles back, covering his nose, “O— on her way, Bucky. Fuck, is that Peter? What is that smell—”

A growl rips through his chest and Bucky slams Clint against the wall, using the full weight of his five-foot-seven-hundred-fifty-pound body to pin the taller Beta with a snarl, “Get the fuck outta here, Barton.” He throws Clint down the hall, “And don’t even think of letting Tony or Steve down here. On your life, Barton, swear to me.”

“I swear, Omega, I swear. Holy shit.”

Bucky doesn’t stay long enough to hear the rest, content to retreat into his nest with the promise from his Beta. All he has to do now is wait for Annie.

Peter has barely stirred. Bucky watches as he squirms around, pained whimpers falling from his lips. When he pulls Peter back into his arms, Bucky notices that his clothes are soaked with sweat.

“Hush, darlin’ it’s okay. Gonna take such good care of you,” he whispers into Peter’s hair, holding him tight and pressing the Omega’s nose into his neck.

Five minutes later, there’s a light knock on the barrier. Bucky can’t help the growl he lets out before he hears Annie announce herself.

“It’s me, Bucky. Clint told me you were in here already— how bad is it?” she asks, approaching the nest slowly, and only entering when Bucky invites her in.

He leaves Peter with her, moving around the room to work on the final shut down procedures.

“He’s unconscious. I’m not sure why, and he seems uncomfortable.”

“Okay, uh. Take care of the room, I’ll try to get him up.”

He unlocks the den, checking the surrounding area for possible threats. The barrier gets closed next— completely blocking the hallway from the nesting room and sealing them inside. He checks each of the windows and the adjoining suite bathroom, content with the locks, and makes his way back to his packmates.

When he climbs back into the nest, Peter immediately reaches out for him with a trill. Both him and Annie are undressed, pressed skin to skin, and Bucky realizes it’s his first time seeing them like this, naked and vulnerable.

His breathing picks up, and he sits up straighter on his knees, pulling off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. Seated in just his briefs, Bucky crawls closer and takes Peter’s waiting hand. He lets the small Omega pull him closer, but hesitates before falling into a kiss. He looks over at Annie, expectantly—

“‘m okay, Jamie. ‘t just took me by su’prise is’all,” Peter slurs, giving him a dopey smile.

“Okay, Pete. What do you need? You should probably drink some water—”

Peter lets out a shrill whine, triggering something primal in Bucky’s hindbrain, and he’s moving Peter to lay face down before he can stop himself. He helps the Omega— supporting his chest with a pillow and pulling his hips up until he’s presenting— and groans at the sight in front of him.

Annie isn’t any less affected, and she silently takes Bucky’s hand, guiding him to touch the silky skin on display in front of them. Peter arches his back further and makes a series of grunting noises followed by one cry of empty.

“Shit,” Bucky curses, feeling his own hole clench in sympathy, “grab one of the toys, please?” and Annie is quick to hand him one of the smaller dildos with an inflatable knot as he admires the trail of slick glistening on Peter’s taint.

“Perfect,” he praises, and slides a finger into Peter’s body without a warning. Annie kneels behind Bucky, kissing lightly at his neck and playing with his boxers as he works Peter open with his fingers.

After Annie undresses Bucky, she moves Peter and settles underneath him, humming encouragements into sweet kisses and reaches up, behind him, to pull his cheeks apart. And god do they make a pretty picture. Needy, desperate Omega in heat on top of the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, grinding together and exchanging wet kisses.

Bucky focuses back on his task, checking the slick from Peter’s hole, and using a large amount of it to coat the toy in his hand. He rests the blunt end against Peter’s rim, pressing lightly, and both of them groan when the cock is basically swallowed up to the hilt.

“Fuck. So greedy, Peter. So good. How’s it feel, pretty Omega?”

He doesn’t get a verbal response, just a loud keening noise, and takes that as permission— thankful that they negotiated this beforehand. The dildo fits easily in his hand, and each thrust is deep, slow, and brings his fingertips in contact with Peter’s dripping entrance, over and over.

Annie reaches underneath Peter’s body, pulling on his tiny cock and wringing desperate sobs from his lips. She uses her other hand to pull Peter in for a kiss, tangling their tongues and swallowing his moans as Bucky picks up the pace.

“Harder, Bucky, I think he’s close,” Annie begs, breathless, and Bucky obeys— meeting Peter’s hips with each thrust as the Omega tries to push back into them.

“Ah ah, Jay, please, ah,” Peter pants, curling his fingers into the sheets and burying his face in Annie’s shoulder, “Need’a, huh ah ah, knot please.”

Bucky keeps his pace, pushing deep into the Omega, and grabs the pump for the knot, pulsing the air pump once with each thrust until there’s a noticeable bulge at the base of the cock.

“M’gonna do it, baby, hold on. Come for me, Peter. Come on my knot, come for me,” he pleads with the Omega.

When the knot is inflated half-way, he slows the thrusts and focuses on grinding down, shallow, into Peter’s prostate. He earns a wail and a string of muffled curses from his mate, and shoves the full knot into his hole with an audible pop!

“Oh fuck, Bucky, keep going,” Annie breaths, both hands at work under Peter’s body to bring him over the edge.

Peter’s legs buckle. Annie grabs him on his way down, keeping his thighs spread as he comes apart in their hands, sighing and humming in pleasure. Bucky reaches underneath him to feel his cock, and has to close his eyes as the pulsing, clear cum pools in his hand.

He continues pumping the knot, inflating it until it no longer threatens to slip past Peter’s swollen rim. With his hand full of Omega cum, he begins to rub it into his own cock and balls— intimately scent marking himself to satisfy his overwhelming instinct to mate and claim his Omegas.

When he looks up, Annie is doing the same— rubbing Peter’s cum into her skin with her head thrown back— and Bucky can’t take it anymore.

With Peter’s heat satisfied for the time being, the two of them work to move him to the side, curling him around a pillow.

Bucky sees her eyes on him, dark and wanting, “Feelin’ horny, Omega?” he purrs, settling over her body and leaning down for a kiss.

She moans into his mouth, nibbling on his lower lip, “Mmm, yeah Bucky. What do you have in mind?”

“Well. I’ll be honest with you, baby, I’ve never been with a girl before.”

“Oh,” she pulls back, pushing him with one hand, “I mean— it’s not too different from a guy who’s an Omega, I don’t think.”

Now he’s definitely blushing, “Well, I— I’ve never really topped anyone either.”

Annie gives him a look, pushing her fingers through his hair, before leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, “Neither of us have to swing for this, Bucky. If you don’t feel comfortable topping, we can share one of those long, floppy dildos that Tony bought for us,” she smiles, then, and frames his face with both of her hands, “but honestly, I’d be honored to be your first.”

He smiles down at her, grinding his cock in between her legs, “What’re we doin’ talkin’ then, sugar?”

Her laugh is swallowed up by his mouth, and they both groan into the suddenly heady, desperate kiss. Annie spreads her legs, locking her ankles behind his back, and rolls her hips into his.

“Fuck, Annie,” he curses. Her core feels so different against his cock, so soft and wet, and he can’t help reaching down to feel, gasping, “tell me— tell me what feels good, baby.”

She mewls into his mouth, clutching hard onto his shoulders, “Like this, Bucky,” and one of her hands joins his between her legs, guiding his fingers through her folds, until he feels a small bump that causes her to cry out.

“That, oh shit, right there, Bucky— s’my clit, baby, feels good.”

He looks down in wonder, following her fingers as they move in small, firm circles. After a minute or so of discovering what makes her twitch and moan, she releases his hands and grasps his cock, stroking it slowly from root to tip. He knows he’s not big— damn his Omega biology— but he’s gotta be big enough to satisfy this girl. At least, that’s what Stevie told him the other night.

Annie must sense his hesitation, because she’s pulling him down into a deep kiss, grabbing his hair, and whispering, “Come on, Bucky. Fuck me. Please, come on, Bucky.”

“Okay, okay. Uh, hold on,” he pulls back, lifting her hips, and feels around for the source of wetness pouring out of her. Once he finds it— and what a fuckin’ marvel, having two holes, damn— he watches her face and pushes two fingers in, feeling around her inner walls as her eyes goes wide in pleasure.

He tries to stretch her out a bit, but after a minute she’s laughing, “Bucky, I don’t need that much work. Just fuck me already.”

Pulling his fingers out, he uses her slick to coat his cock, and lines up, searching her face for any discomfort. He pushes forward, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep inside. She looks so beautiful like this— eyes rolled back, skin flushed, and body open in submission.

As he pulls out and thrusts back in, he has to concentrate on not coming immediately inside of her. He leans down to suck on her nipples, biting and flicking each one until he eases back from the edge.

When she gives him an impatient groan, he sits back on his heels and picks up his pace, watching his cock disappear stroke by stroke, and lets himself get lost in the hot and wet of her body.

It’s not long— and almost embarrassingly so— that he’s back on the edge, feeling his orgasm build, and pounding harder into Annie, sighing, “So sweet, Omega, so pretty. Gonna come for me, darlin’? M’so close, Annie, m’so— god, fuck, I’m gonna come, Annie.”

“Yeah, Bucky, c’mon. Touch me, make me come on your cock, baby.”

The words almost send him over, and he reaches down, frantically, to thumb at her clit, desperate to have her come first.

When he starts feeling her clench around him, rhythmically milking his cock, he loses it— gasping into her skin and shaking as his orgasm rips through his body, thrusting deep and emptying himself inside of her.

“Hot damn, Jamie.”

Still breathing into each other’s mouths, trying to come down from their shared orgasms, both Annie and Bucky look over to see Peter watching them with hooded eyes, hand reaching back to absently fuck himself with the still inflated dildo.

Neither of them respond as Bucky pulls out, fascinated to watch his cum slowly leak out of her passage, and Peter continues to whine, “Why don’t I get that, Jamie? I wanna be fulla cum.”

Annie just laughs, rolling out from under him to snuggle with Peter. She reaches around his back and grabs the pump, releasing the knot, and he groans, shifting closer to her.

“Ready to go again, bunny?” she teases, running her fingers through his hair as he nods his head.

“Always, kitty.”

Bucky laughs, enamored by their nicknames, “Uh, small animals?”

Peter rolls over, pulling Bucky closer, “We use ‘em during scenes. They help us establish who’s in charge.”

“Oh god,” he sits up, and a thought occurs to him, “wait— what do you guys call Clint?”

Both Omegas give him a shit-eating grin, “Baby bird.”

“Holy shit.”

All three of them try to keep a straight face— and then fall apart laughing, holding onto each other as they giggle hysterically and try to breathe through it.

Bucky lays on his back, listening as his mates pull themselves together as laughter turns into labored breathing, the two Omegas succumbing again to Peter’s heat.

Well, Bucky thinks, can’t beat ‘em, might as well join ‘em.

---

Four days later, when all three of them are finally in heat together, all Bucky can feel is rolling waves of pain. There’s a distant memory of sharing this with his Ado-Pack in high school, but now he’s just thankful that neither of his packmates had tried to fuck him through it.

Because as sexy as it sounds— three Omegas, desperate for a knot, grinding on each other— Bucky curses their doctor again for forcing them to do this together. Without an Alpha.

It had taken until the end of the second day for Annie to enter her heat, and the beginning of the fourth for Bucky to start his. Peter is nearing the end, they think, but it’s hard to tell when the three of them are delirious for a knot, unable to think straight.

The last few days are torture. None of them are conscious enough to work the knotting dildo, so they pass most of the time tangled together, writhing around. Their few lucid moments are spent scrambling for water and food.

At one point someone tries to get through the barrier from the outside. Bucky doesn’t remember much after that, but knows that whoever it was got an earful of screaming profanities for their trouble.

Peter’s heat breaks on the fifth day, and Bucky barely notices him pulling them into the large, pack-sized bathtub, taking care to clean all three of them before returning to the nest. There’s another moment where Bucky feels himself being fucked and knotted. He comes so hard that he blacks out.

Their Omega feeds them and keeps them hydrated, and Annie’s heat thankfully ends the next afternoon.

For the last day, both Omegas hold Bucky close, keeping him filled and speaking sweet things into his ear. They read to him in the quiet moments, and Peter actually fucks him a few times, pumping a load of Omega cum deep inside him.

Five days after his heat started— nine days total in the nest— Bucky wakes up with a clear head, and the aching need for an Alpha knot has passed.

He looks around, sitting up fully in the nest, and groans at how sore his entire body is.

“Bucky? How are you feeling?”

Annie’s voice is raspy, and her and Peter are sitting towards the back of the nest, drinking applesauce packets. They are both naked, still, and Annie has her head on Peter’s chest. Bucky almost falls over— both of them are decorated, head to toe, in small bruises and bites. He looks down at himself and huffs, satisfied to see similar marks across his body.

“M’fine, Annie, fuck,” he voice sounds like gravel, and he smiles, thankful it’s over, “can we, shit,” he clears his throat, “are we done?”

Peter tosses him a bottle of water, and it feels like ice hitting his empty stomach when he drinks it.

“They know we’re done, just waiting on you, Jamie.” Peter explains, pulling out his phone, “Do you want me to—”

“Steve, please. I’m sorry, please, I need Steve.” He doesn’t care that he’s begging, the need to see his Alpha is suddenly overwhelming.

“Okay, here I’ll call him.”

Bucky jumps out of the nest, stumbling as his feet bear his weight for the first time in days, and unlocks the barriers, throwing open the locked steel doors, and running to throw open the windows. Damn, the fresh air is nice.

He hears Peter say something, but barely has time to register it when he hears footsteps running down the hallway, heading for the nest. He shuts the entrance, hiding Peter and Annie from sight, as Steve barrels into view.

“Alpha,” Bucky whimpers, opening his arms for his mate to hold him, and Steve doesn’t stop. He runs straight into Bucky’s arms, lifting the Omega, and hauling him back down the hallway towards their den.

Steve is growling, a prolonged rumble that immediately soothes Bucky’s anxious instincts.

Everything’s okay now. Alpha’s here.

The door is slammed shut. Bucky’s back hits the bed. He’s bracketed in by familiar arms— surrounded by fresh Coffee and cleansing Rain.

“What do you need, Buck.” it’s barely a question, and Bucky has no idea of the answer, so he just makes a confused noise.

At his whimper, Steve leans down to scent him, lightly ghosting his hands up and down Bucky’s trembling and bruised body. His Alpha licks down his chest, across his navel, and stops near his poorly chafed cock— and his growl deepens. Bucky’s breath picks up as Steve lifts his legs over his head and grunts, “Hold them.”

With a surge of strength, Bucky hooks his arms around his knees, holding himself open for the Alpha to inspect. In this position, he can only listen and feel as Steve starts to mouth at his opening, filling the room with obscene slurping noises as he coaxes every last drop out of Bucky’s abused hole.

“Alpha, what’re you, oh fuck, Alpha, please,”

After several torturous moments, Steve finally pulls off, face covered in a layer of combined Omega spend, and helps Bucky lower his legs back down.

“M’gonna clean you up, Buck. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Bucky has to blink to keep himself awake as Steve picks him up again, this time moving into the bathroom and setting Bucky in the bathtub. The two of them settle together in the tub, and Steve pulls out his phone to make a few calls— first to Clint, making sure both of the other Omegas are safe and fed, and second to Tony, letting him know it’s fine for him to return to the house.

“You kicked ‘im out?” Bucky hums, wiggling closer to his Alpha in the warm bathwater.

Steve just holds him tight, “Didn’t want him reacting to Peter’s scent, s’all. He wanted to be here for you, Buck, but I didn’t want him around until Peter got to take a shower or something.”

“Damn, I bet it was agony for him not to be with Peter durin’ it. Did… was it him? Bangin’ on the barriers like that?”

“Uh,” Steve clears his throat, “no, that… that was me.”

“Shit, Stevie. You really wanted him that bad? I guess I wouldn’t know— you know Omegas aren’t really affected by that heat smell and stuff—”

“No, you jerk,” Steve interrupts, poking him in the side, “the barriers weren’t scent proof, ya know? It wasn’t bad until I smelled you— your fuckin’ perfect Chocolate and Orange scent. I went ballistic, Buck. My Alpha hasn’t been calm for days since you started your heat.”

“Stevie, fuck. All I wanted was your knot. Never been that desperate before— not even during my first one.”

“I know, Bucky, I know,” Steve soothes him, stroking up and down his legs and gently cupping his soft cock and balls, “wanna put you on my knot so bad, Omega.”

“M’so sore, Alpha,” he complains, still pushing back into his Alpha’s touch.

“Such a good Omega, Bucky. Perfect for me— just relax.”

The two of them rock gently together, exchanging slow kisses, until Steve slides into Bucky’s still stretched hole, filling him perfectly in one thrust. His Alpha is exceedingly tender— moving in a calming, rocking motion until Bucky can feel his knot swell in between them.

Bucky keens as Steve’s knot slips into him, stretching him even further and rubbing up against his over-sensitive prostate. Steve tries shushing him, but Bucky can’t help crying out as the Alpha’s knot blows wide, popping into place, and shooting deep into his belly.

It hurts— it hurts so bad— but Bucky relaxes into it, letting his head fall to the side to give Steve access to his bonding glands. He feels his body shake through a dry orgasm as his Alpha ruts up into his hole. His muscles clench to milk every drop from Steve’s cock and knot them together, one body.

They stay like that, locked and intimate, until the water runs cold. Steve is careful to pull out when the knot goes down, and rinses them off gently in the shower.

At some point he makes another call. When they leave the bathroom there’s a tray of sandwiches waiting next to the bed. His Alpha situates them on the bed before feeding Bucky by hand— alternating between sips of cold water and bites of the sandwich— until both of them are satisfied.

“How’re the other ‘megas?” Bucky asks, chugging the gatorade Steve handed him.

Steve shakes his head fondly, “You’re gonna choke, ya idiot. They’re fine; Clint helped get them showered and I think the four of them are taking a nap in the living room. Or up in their bedroom. Tony brought back food,” he waves at the sandwiches, “so they should be all taken care of.”

“Mmm, Stevie?”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I can’t believe we have to do that again.”

The dumb Alpha laughs, pulling Bucky close, “Only one or two more, Buck, and then all of us spend it together.”

Bucky hums again, turning onto his side to let his mate snuggle up behind him. As they start to fall asleep together, warm and sated, Bucky whispers, “As long as I get you in the end, Stevie, it’ll all be worth it.”

---

Two weeks later, Annie and Clint are walking for graduation and Peter is finishing up the last of his exams. Their lease is over at the end of the week, so later this evening the whole pack will be driving into the city to help them move out of their apartment and into the pack-house permanently.

Bucky sits shotgun on the drive over— with Steve in the backseat and Tony behind the wheel, complaining the whole time about helicopters and professional moving services.

“It’s symbolic, Tony,” Steve says, for the fifth time.

“Then let’s buy them a fucking bottle of champagne. Why are we doing work that I could just hire someone else to do? You know I’m good for it.”

“Shut up, Tony,” Bucky groans, “We’ve already compromised— we take the smaller boxes, movers take the big stuff.”

Tony grumbles, “We shouldn’t have to move anything.”

At this, Steve grabs his shoulder, startling Tony into swerving the car and barely missing a nearby minivan, “What the hell, Steve—”

“You are going to shut it about this, Beta—”

“Or what?” Tony challenges, eyes glued on Steve in the rearview mirror.

Steve holds up his phone, Peter’s contact pulled up and thumb dangerously close to the call button, “You know I’ll do it.”

“Aw, Steve. Cap. Alpha— you know I’m just joking around,”

“Then stop it, Tony,” Bucky adds, “it’s been a rough semester for him already. He doesn’t need your bullshit on top of it.”

GuiltyBeta scent floods the car, and Bucky almost chokes on it. Steve puts a hand on both of their shoulders, giving them each a comforting squeeze, “Hey, everything’s okay. I know all of our emotions are runnin’ wild without suppressants, and it’s gonna be good for us to all move in together before the second heat hits, okay? Just chill out and enjoy the day.”

There’s a heavy silence after Steve sits back in his seat, and Bucky makes a point to roll his window down, clearing out the last of Tony’s scent and making sure neither of his packmates scent SadOmega from him. The last thing either of them need is a Bucky pity party today.

For all the complaining beforehand, moving day actually goes off without a hitch. Tony’s mood brightens significantly when he gets to see his sweet mate, and Bucky makes a point to hang out with Annie and Clint for the most part— avoiding Steve and Tony while they move boxes and blankets out to the waiting truck.

What he didn’t count on, though, was Clint ambushing him in the stairwell.

“Hey, man,” Bucky mutters, trying to squeeze past Clint on the way back up the stairs, but Clint just moves to stand in his way. He tries to laugh it off and move the other direction, but Clint blocks him there too. “What the hell, Barton.”

“You’ve been pissy all day. What’s going on?”

“Nothin’,” he growls, “just movin’ boxes.”

Clint grabs him by the shoulder, pushing him up against the wall and leaning into his space, “What, Barnes? Need someone to take you down? Put you in your place?”

The look in Clint’s eyes says he’s serious, and Bucky slumps in his hold, defeated, “No, I— I’m sorry Clint.”

“Don’t do that, Bucky.” Clint backs off, holding him by the shoulder, “you nervous about move-in? Jealous of the other Omegas?”

“Stop—”

“Don’t tell me— you hate me, don’t you?”

Bucky’s laughing now, pushing Clint away, “Stop it, Clint, it’s none of that,” he let’s the taller Beta pull him in for a hug, snuggling into his warmth and tucking securely under his chin. Clint holds him like this for a few minutes until he finally whispers, “I think I’ve been feelin’ kinda replaceable in our pack, especially since our heat together.”

Clint leans back, searching his eyes, “Why, though? I know Steve was crazy to get to you the whole time. He’s your soulmate.”

Feeling tears prick his eyes, Bucky tries to look away.

“Why, babe?” Clint turns his face back and wipes at a tear with his thumb.

“... I can’t, Clint. Not here.”

Maybe Clint can see the struggle in his eyes, or maybe he’s just a stubborn ass, but he doesn’t listen to Bucky’s plea. He pushes closer, holding Bucky’s face tenderly in his hands, and drops a kiss on his forehead.

“Okay, Bucky, I’ll drop it until later. But you gotta know— you’re not replaceable in this pack. Damn, I already love you a ton, babe. No one in this pack would wanna bond without you, I swear it.”

“Clint—” Bucky whines, trying to stop his tears.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby, come ‘ere.”

He feels safer in his mate’s arms. Clint doesn’t judge him as he shakes apart, as he soaks his shirt, as he probably bruises his lower back. The Beta just holds him tight and strokes through his hair, letting him cry.

As the sobs die down, Bucky wipes his face on Clint’s shirt sleeve and tries to compose himself. What the hell, he thinks to himself. He’s so fuckin’ weak for breaking down like this, no wonder he’s in this position. He can almost see the pity in Clint’s gaze, and hates it.

“Bucky?”

All he can do is make an inquisitive humming noise.

“I think… you should talk to Steve and Tony about this. I know we’ve all been dating each other, and... I can tell it’s hurting you that they’ve been seeing you less because of it. Promise me that? Promise you’ll talk to them?”

“Y— yeah, Clint. I’ll do it.”

The kiss takes him by surprise, and it tastes like saltwater. He chases Clint’s lips, pulling on his hair, drinking him in. Clint pulls away with a gasp, and Bucky leans back against the wall, smiling to himself. The two of them trade a few more kisses until they’re both breathless and giddy with laughter.

They hear the stairwell door open and quickly grab the forgotten boxes, making their way back downstairs together.

When they approach the truck, all of their pack is waiting for them, arms crossed and expectant. Tony and Annie both trade a salacious look, calling out suggestive things, but Steve and Peter just look concerned and disappointed— a strange combination that both of them pull off rather well.

Clint pushes Bucky towards where Steve and Peter are standing and goes to join the others, giving him a last encouraging nod.

Bucky sees the moment where Steve’s expression changes to just concern. Before he can say anything, Bucky grabs his arm and murmurs, “Could we ride together, Stevie?”

Peter shifts awkwardly, “I can… go?”

“No, no— can it be the three of us?” Bucky suggests, looking into his Alpha’s eyes, and trying to communicate with him through his stare. It doesn’t seem to be working, because Steve just tilts his head in confusion.

“Sure, Buck. We’re all done here— I’ll have Tony pick up some dinner and we can head back home.”

As Steve goes to talk to the other three, Peter and Bucky both pile into the truck. They take the backseat— Peter wordlessly holding him close and playing with his hair. God, he loves this pretty Omega. They watch Steve walk back to the truck, sparing them a protective look as he jumps in the front seat and starts the engine.

They drive in silence for a few minutes before Peter nudges him, looking up expectantly into Bucky’s eyes.

“Alright, pushy Omega,” he teases, speaking a little louder for Steve to hear, “I, uh. Clint cornered me in the stairwell. Told me I was being pissy. I guess I didn’t notice it until now, but I’ve been feeling left out of the bonding stuff, especially since our heat together. Just feels like I’m less important, or something.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Peter laces their fingers together, kissing his hand.

“Is it... is it something I did, Buck?” Steve asks.

Bucky shakes his head, “No— I don’t know, Stevie. Everything you’ve done has been for the pack. And you were really great after my heat. It’s been like five weeks since I’ve been down, it could be that. It’s also been like a month since I’ve even talked to Tony.”

“Bucky, sweetheart—”

“I know it’s gonna get better when we bond. I know that. Right now is just hard, is all.”

“Can I,” Peter hesitates and looks down at their hands, “can I hold you, Jamie? Just until we’re home?”

“Yeah, darlin’, whatever you’d like.”

Peter shifts them around so that they’re laying half across the backseat, and wraps all of his limbs around Bucky, effectively stopping all of his movement. It feels nice to be held. It’s been awhile since he’s been held like this.

Steve looks like he’s trying to solve the issue in his head. He’s making a really cute, distressed face.

“Stevie?” he says, hearing Peter giggle slightly beneath him.

“... yeah?”

“Stevie, what are you thinking?”

A snort, “I can’t believe… Bucky, I can’t believe how much I’ve failed you.”

“Alpha.”

Steve's grip tightens on the steering wheel, “You’ve needed me, and I haven’t been there for you, Buck.”

“Yeah, but Alpha—”

“I’m just so sorry Bucky, I love you so much. I had no idea, and that makes me feel like absolute shit—”

“Steve! Alpha! Holy shit, would you shut up for like one second?” Bucky bursts, jerking forward a little bit in Peter’s hold until he can rest a hand on Steve’s arm, “that’s your issue, Stevie. You always think it’s on you, that it’s all about you. Heads up— it’s not. It’s about us. And, I hate to say it, sometimes you can’t fix everything.”

Peter rubs his back as he continues, “Do I need a scene? To submit? Probably— it’s been a long fucking minute. Do I need to sit down with Tony? Yeah. A hundred percent. Is this all related to you and something you’ve done? No. Absolutely not. So get over it, Steve, and just… help me out.”

There’s a long silence as Steve stares out at the road— most likely fighting his urge to pick a fight— until Bucky starts to smell AmusedHornyOmega coming from his smaller mate.

When he faces Peter, the Omega has a deep red blush coloring his cheeks that makes Bucky laugh, “Really?”

“I’m so sorry, Jamie. I know you so don’t want to swing dominant, but your tone is really doing it for me right now. I’m sorry,” he whines, burying his face in his hands.

Thankfully, the distraction has loosened Steve’s death grip on the steering wheel, and he lets out a dramatic sigh, “Bucky. You’re right. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I know. I love you, Stevie. Can we just… can we scene sometime after I talk to Tony?”

Peter lets out an embarrassed squeak as Steve responds,

“Yeah, Bucky. I love you, too— God, I wish I could touch you.”

“Ahem,” Peter clears his throat, pulling back Bucky’s hands from where they’re wandering towards his Alpha, “I’m glad you can’t.”

Both of them laugh at the flustered Omega, exchanging a heated glance in the mirror. Suddenly, Bucky has an idea—

“Steve. Fuck, Stevie? Oh my god, I have an idea.”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can Peter scene with us?”

At the question, Peter gasps, hitting Bucky on the arm.

“James Barnes!” he squawks, “I will not scene with Tony until that Beta has officially proposed—”

“No, no— wait, Tony hasn’t proposed? Damn. No, I meant just the three of us. And maybe Clint.”

“Oh.”

Bucky sits back, content, as he watches the idea go through both of their minds. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes it. Steve and Peter are going to need to learn each other in the bedroom, and who better to guide the process than Bucky? Or one of Peter’s packmates?

“Steve already proposed. You and I are committed. What about it?”

“I’ll… I’ll consider it,” Peter stammers.

Steve just looks awkward in the mirror. He clears his throat before responding, “Let’s wait until after your next heat, okay? We can try it then.”

Both Omegas agree. It sounds like a plan Bucky can get on board with.

---

As it turns out, they don’t have to wait long.

Four days later, Bucky gets a call at work on his emergency line. From Tony.

“Tony? What is it? Aren’t you at work?”

“Bucky?” Tony sounds panicked, “Bucky, where are you? Peter just collapsed at work. He smells like fucking heaven, holy fuck.”

“Tony. Where are you right now?”

“My fucking building, James. I’m in my fucking building holding my— holy shit— my mate who’s unconscious and smells— Bucky. I need you—”

“Dammit,” Bucky curses, jumping up and grabbing his wallet, running to the door, “I’m on my way, Beta. Keep him safe, understand? I’m six blocks away and running, okay?”

All he hears is growling before the line disconnects, and he’s sprinting out into the city, the Stark tower in sight. His heart is pounding in his ears as he runs, each step taking him closer to his mates in distress.

As he tears into the tower, he runs through security yelling, “I’m Tony Stark’s mate, James Barnes,” and somehow gets immediate clearance, jumping in an elevator.

“Jarv, take me to Tony,” he says, barely registering the confirmation as the elevator shoots up towards the R&D floors.

He stumbles out as the elevator opens, and hustles down the hallway, trying to scent his packmates. After a third turn, he spots a crowd looking into a glass-enclosed space. That’s them.

“Clear out!” he commands, “this floor is now on heat lockdown, all staff should proceed to the nearest floor until further notice.”

The crowd moves quickly away from the glass, most of them giving Bucky a clear space as he approaches the lab. Peering inside, he sees both of his packmates curled together on the lounge sofa— thank god they’re both clothed.

“Jarvis, open up for me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t—“

“Override code for James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.”

Without a word, the doors slide open with an audible hiss. He can hear whimpers and hushed reassurances coming from his packmates and decides to call Steve for backup.

“Bucky, this is the emergency number,” Steve answers, sounding irritated.

Best to cut to the chase, “Peter went into heat at work. Tony put the whole floor on lockdown. I’m here with them now, situation normal.”

“Okay, I need you to keep them lucid until I arrive. When I call you next, bring Peter out to the car. I will leave it running for you and drive home in Tony’s car, separately. Understood? I will call Clint and Annie as well.”

“Understood, Alpha.”

Steve hangs up, and Bucky is immediately approaching the pair, doing his best to project his scent and warn Tony of his approach.

“C’mon Tony, let me in. Two of your Omegas are here now, please protect us?”

Tony turns on him, expression close to feral, and growls low. Bucky stops moving forward and bares his throat, dropping his gaze and submitting to the Beta.

“Kneel, Omega,”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Bucky can’t help it. The words vibrate through him and he slides to the floor with a high pitched whine, spreading his legs in an obvious display for his displeased Beta.

Dammit, Bucky.

Stay up, you gotta stay up for Peter.

He lets Tony grip his neck, forcing him to bend forward, resting his chest against the couch and giving Tony easy access.

Tony hums in pleasure— of course he does— because even though it’s highly inappropriate, Bucky is not unaffected by his Beta’s dominance and arousal. He can feel the slick starting to leak out of him.

“Please, Beta.” He begs, unsure what he’s asking for at this point.

Ring, ring, ring.

His phone. Steve. “Alpha,” he chokes out, grasping for the phone before Tony can stop him.

“Alpha, help. Need help, Stevie.”

He can hear Steve yelling through the phone, Tony snarling at the muffled voice, and then the connection is lost. He expects Tony’s touch on his body— craves it at this point— but hears a deep rumble instead.

Alpha.

Tony stands up, guarding them from Steve’s view as the Alpha stalks closer. Both of them stare, unblinkingly, and puff out their chests, asserting dominance.

It’s Tony’s growl that does it. One moment he’s crouching over the Omegas, growling in warning, and the next Steve has him by the scruff, snarling—

“Stand down, Beta.”

Bucky has never heard his Alpha voice before. It has all three of them melting into small, submissive puddles at his feet. And Bucky’s pretty sure he just came, untouched.

Steve hauls him up by the armpits, searching his eyes, and obviously seeing an uncomprehending, submissive Omega in his arms. Steve offers his neck. The simple act of submission, especially after such a bold display of dominance, has Bucky reeling and biting down, hard, into his Alpha’s throat, desperate to swing dominant.

“Buck. Shit, Bucky are you okay?” Steve is asking him, and Bucky pulls away, wiping his mouth.

“I— I think so. Damn, Alpha.”

“Save it. Remember the plan— get Peter back to the house. I’ll deal with Tony.”

“And Clint?”

Steve pauses, shaking his head, “He’s with Annie, back at the house. Bucky— she’s in heat too.”

Dammit.

#Bucky barnes #ofc #peter parker #winterspider #winterhawk #winteriron #stucky #starker #spidershield #clint barton #fluff #smut #angst #oh my #MiGLT #d/s fic #mood board #omegaverse

67 notes · View notes

littoraly-art · 3 years

Text

an aching heart

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Tags: modern au, hurt/comfort, sick!Jaskier, insecure!Jaskier, established relationship, living together, panic attacks, chronic pain, nausea

A/N: this is just a very self-indulgent fic I've been working on, on and off, whenever I feel sick. I decided to leave it fairly ambiguous as to what Jaskier suffers from, just so that people can project if they want because hey, we all deserve to be a bit self indulgent, right?

Read it on AO3 or down below!

The sound of the shower was soothing, a constant stream of noise that mimicked the rainy days that the man loved so much. The steam, that clouded up from the shower, helped relax his muscles and ease his breathing which, up until that moment, had been panicked.

Logically, he knew he shouldn't be panicking–this was a regular enough occurrence, after all–but panic wasn't logical was it? It struck whenever it wanted, sometimes without clear reason unless one were to delve deeply into analyzing the moments leading up to it.

His breathing had been terribly constricted and he had been shaking something fierce, a whimper or two escaping him. The severe shaking had left his muscles feeling weak and achy but, again, the warm steam was helping relax him. He eventually found himself counting his breathing whilst lying on his stomach, cheek against the cool tile flooring of the bathroom.

That contrast of temperature, with the cool air rolling in from the vent on the floor, helped calm his mind with that sensation of distraction. The warm steam drifted over his damp skin like a comforting blanket while the cold air came in waves, offering some sort of relief from his nausea.

He knew he should move, actually get the shower that he had planned on getting, but he couldn't pull himself from the position he was in. It offered just enough relief that he dreaded moving. At least for a little while.

By the time he heard the sound of the bedroom door opening and the creaking of floorboards under heavy footsteps, unfortunately, his stomach was rumbling uneasily again.

"Jask?" There came a knock on the door. A knock which made him flinch despite being well aware that there was someone there. "I'm headed ou–"

Geralt's voice cut off when Jaskier couldn't stop the whine that escaped him in response to his boyfriend calling his name. A wordless, instinctive, plea for help. He immediately regretted the sound (that hadn't been entirely voluntary in the first place) when Geralt spoke up again.

"Jask..? You alright in there?"

He tried to respond, which did not work in his favor as it only created another pathetic sound, a whimper that was followed by a sniffling sob. He didn't want to disrupt Geralt's day or for the man to see him like this but, damn it, he also really wanted someone to care. Deep down. Even though he was ashamed.

"Okay, I'm coming in," the other man announced as he gave another knock before opening the door.

He looked to the shower first, since that was what he had been able to hear, but his attention was quickly taken by the prone form of Jaskier, stretched across the tiles. He frowned deeply in concern, the corners of his lips dipping severely, and he immediately moved to kneel next to the younger man.

"You shouldn't have come in," Jaskier croaked unhappily, despite also somehow being glad that the man was there, and let out another soft whimper, really not able to help the sounds at this point. Oh, he felt so fucking pathetic. "I'm gross."

"Gross?" Geralt moved his hand forward to smooth it along the back of Jaskier's bare torso as he rubbed his thumb gently into his hips every time he passed. "Don't," a soft sigh punctuated his pause, "call yourself that."

His tone was so patient but tinged with annoyance, an annoyance that didn't interfere with the patience even though it seemed it should. Jaskier knew the annoyance wasn't really directed towards him, at least not fully. An annoyance that came with Jaskier's words about himself, not the situation they found themselves in.

"But it's true."

"Why?"

"Because.. Because it just is–" He whimpered heavily and then shivered tiredly as he felt Geralt shifting to help him up. A soft whine, mixed with a gasp, escaped him as he was pulled away from the cool floor.

He was moved into a sitting position, pulled against Geralt's chest with his head tilting to rest on his shoulder. Jaskier's eyes slipped closed as he sniffled, relaxing into the hold, and enjoying the way that Geralt began stroking his hair.

"You're calling yourself gross because.. what? You're sick?" His boyfriend murmured to him while continuing to stroke his hair, pulling his body more fully into his lap. All the while, his warm hands continued to move across Jaskier's body, stroking in slow, soothing swipes.

"Well.. it's just fucking gross, it just is," Jaskier whispered out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shivered again. Aching pain shot through his hips and it caused another whimper as he pushed his face into Geralt's neck.

He heard the white haired man give a heavy sigh and the tips of his ears turned a bit red in his embarrassment.

"Well, I'll admit that it's.. unpleasant. But that doesn't make you gross, Jask. Why would it? It's not like you chose to get sick."

A soft kiss was pressed to his hairline and it caused more tears to well up as he let a shaking sob bubble up and then escape through trembling lips. His fingers curled into Geralt's shirt and he whimpered a couple more times as the man holding him started to hush him quietly.

"How about we get you into the shower, buttercup?" Geralt's voice was even softer than usual and he helped him sit up by himself so that he could pull away. "Sitting on the ground like that isn't good for your back."

Jaskier leaned limply against the cabinet that sat under the sink and watched with tired, reddened eyes as Geralt got undressed. He watched as his boyfriend paused to use his phone, his brows furrowing in the way they always did when he wrote out text messages.

"Weren't you going to go.. like.. help out at Vesemir's?" Jaskier spoke up after a moment, feeling guilt pool in his core since Geralt had planned to make a day of it, now that he thought about it.

The other man gave a simple hum and paused for a bit longer before setting aside his phone. He raised his brows and shifted around to take off his briefs, kicking them off of his foot once they fell down.

"Yeah, but now I'm not."

"You shouldn't skip out on that just because–"

"Taking care of you is way more important," Geralt cut him off firmly and frowned for a moment as he moved over to crouch down next to Jaskier. "Now let's get you into the shower, okay?"

Jaskier eyed him with an unsure twist to his lips, guilt still rushing through him but, all the while, there was a part of him that desperately wanted to be cared for so, he nodded slowly.

He wanted to be cared for. He craved this tender, loving attention and not having to do it on his own. He wanted someone to lean on, someone he could trust but..

Damn it.

He felt so fucking awful. He felt like a burden. Like it was his fault he was sick, somehow, even though Geralt insisted that wasn't true. And logically, he knew that Geralt was right but that didn't stop the feelings from washing over him in overwhelming swells.

He felt so gross and ashamed and– and–

His thoughts were cut off as Geralt cupped his cheek, briefly, as he raised Jaskier's head and rubbed his thumb against his cheekbone. He gave Jaskier the softest, most heart-melting smile before shifting forward to slide his arm under the brunet's knees.

"Come here."

Geralt circled his other arm behind Jaskier's back and then lifted him off the ground as if he barely weighed more than a sack of flour. And he knew for certain that he weighed more than that. Obviously.

It was no small feat to carry Jaskier into the shower, given that they were nearly the same height, but Geralt managed to do without so much as a muttered word or awkward maneuver.

Once they got into the shower, Geralt carefully let Jaskier's legs down so that the younger man could tentatively find his footing. When it became clear that Jaskier wasn't going to be able to stay upright for long, Geralt kept a firm hold around his waist.

"S'cold," Jaskier muttered, despite it still being warm enough to create steam, and he reached out to turn the heat up.

"Well if you're gonna do that.." Geralt turned them about so that Jaskier was underneath the stream of water, since he didn't like taking those really hot showers that Jaskier liked. He guided his boyfriend's head forward, though, keeping it out of the flow of water and onto his shoulder.

"Thmks.."

"Mhm."

Jaskier lost track of time like that, focusing on Geralt's pulse that thrummed underneath the press of his lips. The rumble of his voice when he hummed. His soft breaths.

Geralt's hands roamed his body in long soothing strokes, easing aches and promoting relaxation. At some point, a soft loofah joined in, sending the comforting scents of oranges and honey, swirling around him. The loofah scrubbed gently in small circles until he was lathered in bubbles so that Geralt could pull the shower head down and rinse him off.

"All.. done. Squeaky clean," Geralt murmured as he placed the shower head back into place and Jaskier laughed quietly, into the man's neck.

A kiss was pressed to his forehead and then, suddenly, he was being lifted. He made a noise of surprise but let Geralt pick him up, guiding his legs around his hips as his hands rubbed along his thighs. After, the shower was turned off and it left them in silence. Dripping wet and starting to grow cold.

It didn't take long for Geralt to step out of the shower, immediately hushing Jaskier as a few whimpers escaped him. The cold air, blowing from the vent on the floor, hit his skin like electric sparks and he shivered as Geralt looked for his towel.

Fortunately, the warm, fluffy towel soon met his back as Geralt continued on his way. He carried his boyfriend all the way out to their bedroom and settled him down onto the edge of their bed.

That effectively had him on his knees, in front of Jaskier as he started drying the younger man off. A small smile settled onto his lips and a soft sort of glimmer caught his eyes before he leaned in. As he dried off the other man, he began pressing feather light kisses all over Jaskier's exposed skin.

One.

Two.

Three. Four. Five.

Six… Seven.

Another. And another. And another. And.. too many to count.

But then, to his dismay, the kisses abruptly stopped as Geralt moved the towel to dry Jaskier's hair. He dried it thoroughly, with lots of squeezing of the strands and rubbing it down.

A whole minute passed before the towel was removed, leaving Jaskier's hair sticking up in ridiculous directions as the brunet pouted. Before he could say anything, though, Geralt leaned back in and pressed a firm kiss against that little pout.

"Lay down, I'll grab you some briefs and your heating pad," Geralt told him, gently squeezing Jaskier's thighs and finally drawing a smallish smile from the man on the bed.

Without a word, Jaskier moved to lay down on his back and rubbed his hand over his stomach as he sighed heavily. He listened to Geralt shuffling around in the closet and then his other hand rested against his chest, over his heart as he stared up at the ceiling.

What had he done to deserve such a thoughtful partner?

Geralt returned, helping guide the pair of briefs onto Jaskier while pressing kisses to the man's legs. He was making it very hard for Jaskier to feel embarrassed. He was touching him freely and without hesitation, giving him the same affection he always would. He didn't care that Jaskier was gross.

He made him feel.. not so gross.

Jaskier inhaled sharply as he felt the heating pad settle against his abdomen, not having expected the sudden touch to his area of pain. Geralt's hand lay heavily on top of it as he climbed into bed next to him and applied the weight needed to distribute the heat across his stomach.

It slowly began to warm up and Jaskier's eyes slipped closed, finding some relief through the heat.

"Try and take a nap.. I'll lay here with you in case you need anything," he heard Geralt say from next to him just as there was some shifting. A longer pillow was tucked under his knees and a soft gasp left his lips as the pain in his lower back eased some. "That's it, buttercup. Just relax and try to sleep."

"Thank you for taking care of me," he murmured and felt Geralt lean close to kiss his cheek. He finally felt less ashamed of taking the help and it warmed him more when he heard the smile in Geralt's voice.

"Always."

#witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher #witcher modern au #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction

44 notes · View notes

preciouspeterbparker · 3 years

Text

i wish i were, part 3

part one

part two

summary: it’s getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: step- inc*st, smut, underage sex, suicidal ideation (oops), ANGST, depression, self-harm mention (doesn’t actually happen, just intrusive thoughts), it’s all mentioned very casually so if this is triggering for you please don’t read!! <3 , ambiguous ending

this is the last part y’all! thanks for going on this ride with me. this was my first multi-chap fic and it kinda gave me the confidence to know that i’m capable of writing longer stuff without it being super shitty lol. sorry that it’s taken me so long!!

love you all

- bloo

It's getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

Peter hates to say it, fuck, the thought physically pains him, but he’s glad the school year’s almost over. He’s glad that it’s almost time for graduation, time for Tony to leave for the special summer program MIT invited him to participate in.

He just wants to stop feeling like this, never wants to feel like this ever again. He always feels heavy, weighed down, like his clothes are soaking wet. It’s a feeling that goes deep into his bones, leaving him cold, aching, and tired.

It’s a good thing there’s not really any work left to do for school, other than exams; Peter spends most of his time in bed, headphones on and staring at the wall, the one that separates his room from Tony’s.

He keeps hearing Pepper’s voice in his head. He thinks you hung the moon, babe. It’s so cute. The words make him burn inside, make him want to dig his fingers in and peel his skin back until the feeling spills out of him. Until his blood spill out, until he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore- Fuck-

That’s how his brain is working, now. The intrusive thoughts have reached new levels. Peter’s always had them, he’s been passively suicidal for most of his adolescence, but it seems that any minor inconvenience has him ready to end it all. But it makes sense, he supposes. He’s already hurting, already weary and withdrawn. It really wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

Too bad he doesn’t really want to die. He just wants everything to...stop. So that he doesn’t have to feel like this.

And because the universe is obviously enjoying fucking with him, the first thing he sees walking out of first period is Pepper walking down the hallway, a faded black t-shirt hanging from her shoulders, exposing the bright red of her bra straps.

Peter recognizes the garment immediately.

It’s the Black Sabbath shirt, the one he’d kept under his pillow for over a week. The one he’d spilled multiple loads of cum onto before finally putting it in his laundry and carefully slipping it back into Tony’s room once it had been washed.

And now Pepper’s wearing it. Which means Tony gave it to her.

Peter stops, freezes right there in the doorway of Mrs. Flannigan’s classroom. He blinks, staring blankly in the direction the blonde had gone. His classmates protest behind him, pushing forward until he snaps out of it. Taking a few stumbling steps to the side, he leans back against the wall.

He feels like he can’t breathe. Some kid walking down the hall looks at him funny, and he realizes that there are tears rolling down his cheeks. Hastily wiping them away, he slowly pushes himself off the wall and starts making a hasty exit to the bathroom, head down and eyes trained on the linoleum.

Then-

“Hey, Peter- Wait, Pete what’s wrong, what happened?”

Shuddering, barely able to contain the sob that threatens to rip its way out, Peter ignores Tony, just pushes past him and doesn’t stop moving until he’s locked in the private restroom.

With his back to the door, Peter slides down til his butt’s on the cold ground, arms wrapped around his knees as he tries to muffle his cries as he sits there, shaking.

He just wants it to stop.

***

Something’s up with Peter, and Tony has a sinking feeling that it’s got something to do with him. But he doesn’t know what he possibly could have done.

They’d had such a nice time celebrating his birthday. He even had a new photo in his wallet, a polaroid of him and Peter cheesing goofily into the camera. Looking at it brings a smile to his face.

He really does love his little brother. Though he was young, Tony can remember life before Richard and Peter came into their lives. He remembers being an only child as lonely hours spent trying to entertain himself while his mom was busy working, trying to support him as a single parent. He’d been ecstatic upon meeting Richard and finding out that he had a little boy, too, that he was going to get a brother.

Tony knows that he and Peter haven’t been spending as much time together as they usually do, but he just chalked it up to it being his senior year. He wanted to spend the time with his friends, with his girlfriend, making the best of their last bit of time together before everything changes.

Peter’s words from his birthday ring in his head. I don’t want you to...forget me. Maybe he’s feeling left behind?

He’s only got a little over a week left until graduation, and then a week after that he leaves for MIT. That’s not much time at all.

The teen resolves to make some more time in his schedule to spend with his younger brother. Rhodey and the guys and Pep can deal for a couple days.

***

Peter’s pulled out of the clusterfuck of ruminative thoughts that have kept him awake for the past week by the squeak of his bedroom door being opened. He blinks under the covers, instinctively curling in on himself. He’s been under here for hours, but he still feels so cold.

Tony’s voice comes through the small crack he’s created between the door and the jamb, one eye peeking inside. “Peter? Are you….” He pauses and clears his throat before continuing softly, “Are you okay?”

The lump under the covers that is Peter shifts a little. His voice is dull and monotone when he replies, as apathetic as he can muster. “...Just leave me alone, Tony.” So much for that. Even saying his brother’s name hurts, a lot more than he thought it would, making his voice crack pathetically. Peter pulls his hands up to his chest and tries to quell the sudden surge of emotion that rushes through him, stifling a whimper. Please just go away.

Of course, instead of listening for once in his fucking life, Tony opens the door further so that he can slip inside. It closes behind him with a soft click and he takes a tentative step towards the queen bed that’s pushed up against the walls in the corner of the dark bedroom. "Pete…" Peter can hear him softly pad over to the nightstand and flick on the small lamp sitting there. His breathing in the quiet room is near deafening to Peter. “I…” He hovers there for a minute before sighing and sitting at the foot of the bed. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. So that I can… I just want to help, Pete.”

The silence stretches on uncomfortably between them and even under the covers, Peter can feel the worried gaze burning him alive.

His skin is crawling with how badly he wants to crawl out of the covers and into Tony’s lap, the way he would when they were younger and he was upset. He needs to get Tony out of here. He can’t-

Peter moves so that his head is exposed, but he looks down at the bed rather than the other teen. "No, it’s fine. I mean I-, I’m fine," Peter sniffles, blinking furiously in an attempt to will the tears away. Fuck. His- fuck, his throat is tight, he can't swallow. His mouth falls open, a shuddering breath escaping as the muscles in his throat spasm. "I get it, Tony. I promise I get it, I really do. I do. She's-"

Fuck. He must really be exhausted, he wasn’t supposed to say that, wasn’t supposed to let on the truth of why he’s upset. Peter's eyes flit around like he's on speed, darting from one focal point to another without him truly seeing anything. His voice is hoarse, thin. It's as small as he feels. Miniscule. Insignificant. He’s gonna ruin everything but he can’t make himself stop. "I mean, I can’t- I can't compete with-" The words come to an abrupt halt, his mouth snapping shut.

Tony nudges Peter’s foot with his knee. “What? Peter.” He bumps against Peter again until the younger boy looks up to make eye contact.

That stupid fucking crease forms between his older brother's eyebrows. Peter wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Mostly he wants to scream.

"Peter, what? Compete with who? Are you talking about Pepper? I know we haven’t been spending much time together, but I’m gonna fix that before I leave, I promise. I don’t want you to feel left behind, not at all but I still don’t get- What’s this got to do with -," Tony starts, placatingly. But there’s something in his eyes, in the barely there tremor in his voice- And Peter suddenly realizes that Tony knows, has to know at least a little bit.

He swears his vision flashes red for a second. "It has everything to do with her," Peter all but shrieks, nails digging crescent-shaped welts into his palms. He feels overwhelmed, trapped. Like a hermit crab without its shell- vulnerable, horribly exposed. It comes out without his consent, and so does his fucking stutter. Fuck it all. "And I know- I know- I know I'm fucked up, Tony, I know it, but I love you, the way that you love h-huh-her.”

He takes a shuddering breath, reeling from saying the words out loud for the first time. “I'm sss-suh-sick, and g-gross and you- I know I'm a fff-fuh-freak and nnn-now- now you’re gonna hate me!" Peter sobs, his entire body shaking as he works himself towards an anxiety attack, a panic attack, a heart attack, fucking something. “I can’t even fu-fu-fu-fucking talk-” There’s snot and tears running down his face, he’s upset himself so much he can’t get through a fucking sentence. He knows he’s making a fucking fool of himself. He’s so stupid, why did he ever think that anything could come from this. He just wants it all to stop, he wants Tony to leave so that he can figure out some way to fix this, to make it all go away-

Tony’s staring at him, mouth parted, dark eyes wide and concerned. "Baby, what- I could never hate you, babydoll." It’s like the nickname comes out instinctually, the sound of Peter’s stutter instantly taking him back to the way he would console Peter when they were much younger, pulling him into his arms and rocking him like his own little baby.

He climbs on the bed and burrows into the nest of blankets and pillows that Peter has created, but he stays sitting up. His arms wrap around his baby brother and pull him up into his lap so that he’s close to his chest, in spite of the younger’s attempts to squirm away. “Calm down, Pete.” Tony presses his lips to Peter’s head when his cries only increase, frowning at how hot the skin of his forehead is. “You’ve gotta calm down,” he soothes. “C’mon, it’ll get better once you calm down, baby, you know that.” One of his hands glides up and down Peter’s heaving back.

Gasping, Peter shakes his head. He buries his face in the space where Tony’s pec and arm meet, taking a shuddering breath through his mouth. He’s trying to calm down but it’s not working. “I’m so- I’m so ssss-sss-suh-sorry, Tuh-Tony!” He feels like he’s gonna pass out. Shifting a bit, he pulls his head back in an attempt to get some more air. They almost make eye contact but he hurriedly looks away. He’s ruined everything. Tony hasn’t reacted to his confession yet but Peter knows that it’s gonna be bad, it’s gonna be so bad when he does.

What’s he got left to lose?

Peter can't help himself; he leans in. The tips of their noses brush, and he pauses there for a moment. He can hear Tony's sharp intake of breath through his own heaving as they finally lock eyes. The look in Tony's chocolate depths is- Peter doesn’t really know. Tony's never looked at him like this before, no one has.

“Tony,” he whispers shakily, breath catching in his throat before closing the distance between them. Time stands still for a moment before something breaks, the tension snapping like a rubberband pulled too tight. Their mouths meet and Peter immediately whines at the feeling of Tony’s lips on his, body instinctively arching up against his brother’s, too lost in it to feel embarrassed of how easy he is to get worked up.

It’s...everything he ever dreamed of.

Tony’s hands move to cup his cheeks, and Peter’s own hands find their way into the other’s dark, wavy locks as their mouths move against each other. There’s a swipe of tongue across his bottom lip, timidly asking for entrance. The younger obliges immediately, letting the warm muscle slide into his mouth where it meets his own. It sends shivers down his spine and he keens when his tongue is sucked into the wet of Tony’s mouth. His dick begins to fill rapidly in his sweats, leaving him feeling lightheaded and a bit disoriented.

Peter’s never made out with anyone before, but this-

He thinks he understands what all of the hype is about, now.

They pull apart, both gasping for air. Tony moves his head slightly, taking heaving breaths that blow onto the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, and his entire body seizes. The elder brother pauses, eyes darkening, before he latches his mouth there and sucking, hard- Fuck, Peter swears he’s about to cum in his pants.

“Tony.” The name is all but ripped from his throat, ragged and wanton and filthy sounding. He didn’t know he could feel this good. There’s precum steadily leaking from the slit at the tip of his cock, and though he can’t see it at the moment, he’s sure there’s a wet spot staining the crotch of his pants.

More moist air on the sensitive skin of his neck, now slightly red from being rubbed by the stubble covering Tony’s chin. “Shit, Peter,” comes the eighteen year old’s wrecked gasp and his hips shift, nudging his own erection against Peter’s thigh. “Fuck, fuck.”

Peter feels like he’s losing his mind. “Tony, Tony lemme- Wanna touch you, please-,” he says, unable to put together a full sentence. The cock he’s been dreaming about for almost a year is within his reach and he doesn’t know how they got here, has no idea what’s going to happen after, but he’s so fucking close to getting what he’s wanted for so long but thought he could never have. His hands flutter restlessly near the front of his brother’s basketball shorts and the bulge that’s pressing insistently against the loose material.

“Yeah,” Tony gasps, shifting Peter out of his lap so that he can lie down on the bed on his side and then he pulls Peter down with him, facing each other. “Me too, can I…,” he trails off, the fingers of his right hand running down Peter’s body from his shoulder down to the sharp point of his hip bone.

All Peter can do is nod jerkily, already reaching to tug at the dark red fabric that’s wrapped around the older teen’s waist. He lets out a desperate, frustrated sound when they get caught, but Tony’s hands take over for him, so he pushes his own pants down to his knees instead. His dick hangs down heavily once it's free of its confines, and there’s a quiet thud as Tony’s slaps against the dark hairs smattered across his lower belly.

Looking at his big brother’s cock for the first time in the dim lighting makes Peter’s mouth water. He can make out the slight shadow of a vein running the length of it, and his tip is big, a drop of precum sitting there just waiting for him to lick at it. He’s bigger than Peter, in both length and girth. It’s perfect, something right out of his fantasies.

Tony rocks his hips forward and their erections rub against each other, prompting them to let out synchronous groans. “Holy shit,” Peter whines, his own hips stuttering as they start to rut against each other in earnest. They quickly get into a slightly stumbling rhythm. It feels so good, their cocks both so hot, so hard. He already knows this is going to be over before it really even starts but he couldn’t care less. “Tony, Tony, yes-”

The brunette all but growls. “That’s it, Petey. Fuck, your cock feels so good, I never- Shit,” Tony pants before spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around both of their shafts. “Fucking hell-” His toes twitch against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Pete-”

Peter’s movements get jerkier, his hips stuttering at the feeling of Tony’s wet hand, the way their dicks are sliding against one another. He’s so close, so fucking close. “Please,” he whimpers, fingers digging to Tony’s shoulders where he’s holding on in an attempt to ground himself. HIs tongue licks at his brother’s bottom lip. “Wanna cum, Tony, lemme cum-”

“Yeah, fuck, yes Peter, cum, cum for me-” Tony groans, the speed of his stroking increasing. The rhythm is jerky, and it’s so uncoordinated when combined with their frantic undulating, but it feels amazing.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Peter chants as his orgasm slams into him like a brick wall. His muscles lock up, and there are probably crescent-shaped welts in the skin of Tony’s shoulders and back. Thick, white ropes of cum shoot from his cock and make a mess in his brother’s hand. A whine escapes him as he grows more sensitive in Tony’s grasp.

The feeling of the warm liquid smearing over his erection is what does the older teen in. He crushes his mouth to Peter’s as he cums, fucking into his fist and rubbing against the other’s softening cock, licking lewdly into the wet of his mouth. “Pete,” he sighs, pulling away after he’s ridden out the wave of his orgasm.

“I love you,” Peter whispers contently, snuggling in and pressing a kiss to a freckle on Tony’s shoulder. This is everything he’s ever wanted, to be held in his big brother’s arms like this: like a lover. Maybe he was worried for nothing, maybe everything will be okay. Sure, they’ll have to hide it from everyone, especially Mom & Dad, but once they’re both in college… They have different last names, no one would ever have to know. They could be happy. Peter just wants to be happy, just wants this feeling to stay.

Tony shifts slightly and takes a deep breath, the puff of air ruffling Peter’s sweat-slick auburn curls. “Pete,” he says again, softly. “I love you too, I do.” He pauses, pulling back slightly and loosening his hold on the younger boy and rolling onto his back so that they’re both looking up at the ceiling. “But I-”

Peter freezes, the afterglow fading instantly. His heartbeat picks up, and there’s a slight ringing in his ears. He grips the sweat damp comforter in his hands, fingers twitching restlessly, stroking back and forth over the fabric in an attempt to soothe himself. No. No, no no, this isn’t- Tony- He can’t-

Another heavy sigh. “We can’t- We can’t do this again, Pete,” Tony says into the quiet of the night, still slightly out of breath from exertion. His voice is soft, gentle. He’s trying not to hurt Peter; Peter thinks that’s bullshit.

There’s a lead weight in his stomach. He feels like he’s drowning. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He feels dirty. He feels-

He’s so tired of feeling.

Tony hesitates before pulling his shorts up and sliding out of the bed. He reaches out, brushing his fingers over Peter’s hand, jerks back when the younger immediately tenses and recoils from the touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before hastily making his way to the door, shutting it gently behind him.

“Just go, Tony,” he croaks before rolling over in the bed, away from the love of his life his brother.

Peter lays there for the rest of the night, unmoving, staring at the ceiling, tears running down the sides of his face, seeing nothing.

If only he could feel nothing, too.

***

“Where...where ya goin, Pete?”

Peter is putting clothes in a small duffel bag. He makes a mental note to remember to grab a new thing of toothpaste when he gets his toiletry bag together. “I’m, uh, gonna go stay with Ned. For a few days.” More like a few weeks, but he doesn’t need to tell Tony that.

It’s only been two days since they-

Peter’s already had enough. He can’t be here, he can’t skirt around the elephant that is his feelings towards Tony, can’t handle the awkwardness in the air as his stupid fucking brother tries to go on as if nothing ever happened. As if it meant nothing to him.

As if Peter meant nothing to him, means nothing to him.

Peter can...he can be okay with that. He has to be. But he can’t be here. He can’t.

“What about mom and da-” Tony cuts himself off, and Peter can tell that’s not what he is really trying to ask. Of course he’s so fucking disgusted, so fearful of someone else knowing, that he can’t even say it. No, what he really means is-

“I didn’t tell them I kissed you, Tony,” Peter hisses, tears burning in his eyes. He yanks the zipper of his bag closed, biting back a scream when it gets stuck for a second. “I’m not stupid. Why would I tell them what we did? I don’t want them to hate me, too. Don’t worry about what I told them, they said I could go.”

Maria and Richard are under the impression that Peter’s just stressed about his grades and going a little stir crazy. When they’d talked last night, Mom had frowned gently at him, mentioning how down he’d looked lately and letting him know that he was loved and cherished. Dad had actually been the one to suggest spending some time with Ned; maybe seeing his best friend would help pull Peter out of his funk.

If only they knew.

Tony gapes at him, an incredulous look on his face. “But what about Tuesday? You’re gonna miss my graduation? For what, to fuck around with Ned? Peter-”

Something in him snaps. He clenches his jaw, swallows harshly. Glares tearily at his brother. “Would you please just stop it?”

The taller boy sets his shoulders and crosses his arms, defiant. “I don’t want you to go.” His eyes are narrowed, searching Peter’s face. For what, the younger has no idea. Nor does he care.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Tony,” he yells, glad that Mom and Dad are out at the grocery store, getting supplies for Tony’s graduation party. His voice cracks on his brother’s name. Always on his name. “Not anymore. I don’t- I know you don’t- Do you know how much it hurts me? To- to hear you? To know, to have to listen to-”

Tony’s mouth opens, but no words come out. “Hear us? You- you heard us? When?” His eyes are wide. He must realize exactly what Peter’s talking about, when he’s talking about, and he looks uncomfortable, vulnerable in a way that Peter’s never seen him before. Something ugly deep inside the younger teen feels satisfied for a moment before it deflates. He’s left feeling just as drained as before.

Tony continues, “Peter, I-” He cuts himself off, looks away.

Of course he can’t even come up with something to say.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, you don’t have to explain everything to me!” It comes out as a sob. Peter feels like he’s a volcano; the words are erupting and he can’t do anything but allow it, powerless to stop them. “Nothing you say will make it better! I know you’re straight! I know it’s- that it’s wrong. I know Pepper is-,” he chokes, gasping. Why is this happening? Everything is going so fast. How is he freezing and on fire at the same time?

“She’s gorgeous and I’m just the path-th-thetic little br-brother who th-thinks you hung the moon.” Peter’s spluttering, flapping his hands at his sides as he tries to do something with the energy humming inside him. He wants out, he needs Tony to go so that he can finish packing. He has to get out of here.

Tony takes a step towards him. “No, Peter, how could you-”

Peter’s sniffling, eyes squeezed shut. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, trembling. Why won’t Tony just leave him alone? He just wants to be alone. “I know I’m ugly and I- I bet you can’t w-w-wait to go to MIT, to go away from me!”

“Babydoll,” is what leaves Tony’s mouth, so soft Peter almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as they land on his younger brother’s cheeks. Warm tears are gently brushed away by his thumbs. “Pete.”

Brow furrowed, Peter slowly opens his eyes and blinks the tears back in order to look at his brother. Tony looks...scared? What does he have to be scared of?

Peter tries to pull away, out of Tony’s grasp but the older teen just clutches him tighter. “Tony- What? It’s fine, j-just stop! Let me go, I need to finish-”

Tony closes his eyes and crashes their lips together.

don’t hate me

@spidey-sins @silkystark @thegreenmetblue @snailshome @hp-nv-221b @lemondrop313

if you wanna be untagged lmk

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #starkercest #bloo writes bad things (tm)

76 notes · View notes