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buckyalpine · 9 months

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Cheating!Steve x reader, Bucky x reader

Oh look, more cheating Steve with sweetheart Bucky to save us

A/N: Last year someone asked me for some mad angsty fic and I posted and deleted it so quick because it was god awful. Just awful. However, I had kept a draft of it cause even though I hated it and everything about it, I didn't want it gone forever. Upon rereading it recently...I kinda like it. So I decided to change some stuff (like most of the entire plot), switch around characters (I'm a Bucky girl) and repost. If you want to see the OG fic, I can post it again or just edit this to add it under the new version

Steve couldn't stand seeing you like this. In the hospital room, the needles prodding you, it all reminds him of hydra and the things he had seen on numerous missions. When you almost die, he's thrown back into the spiral where he has no hope for a future. And nothing changes after you get better. You had almost died once. Missions were getting riskier and you weren't always in the clear. In his mind, everything good in his life leaves him or gets ripped away eventually. Peggy was a prime example of that. It's just a matter of time.

Even in your injured state, your attention was all on Steve. You knew how much he hated seeing you hurt. It sent him into a dark place few people had witnessed. As soon as your eyes fluttered open, your tired eyes met his red rimmed, puffy ones. For days, every time you try to bring him back to you, he has his walls built up again.

He won't let himself love you more.

He drinks.

He drinks enough to get drunk. It takes bottle after bottles but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything any more. So much so, he decides to seek the warmth of someone else.

Because you almost left him.

You could die so easily.

You almost did.

Nothing matters any more. His moans of pleasure are empty but he's wrapped around her none the less. He doesn't stop until his body can't move, too exhausted to even think about guilt.

You have it all planned out. You were finally released from the hospital and the first thing you wanted to do was spend time with Steve. The team had left the compound so you could set up a movie night for you and the captain, you don't want to let him slip from your grasp, not after all you'd been through together. You didn't go through hell and back to lose him like this. You fought for your life to pull through.

There are snacks laid out on the table, a movie pulled up, some hot chocolate made just for you and him. You shuffle nervously, your heart beating erratically. You didn't spend 4 years with him just for this to end because you nearly died. No. He was worth the fight. His cold demeanor was not towards you but towards the fear of losing you. And that fear was from love. Love you both shared deeply for each other.

You knew he got back from the bar late; if he was too drunk then you'd help him to his room and talk to him in the morning. It was a new habit of his but you understood.

Except he never came. He always made it home. Not tonight.

Steve stumbled in the next morning, rubbing his eyes, seeing a small sleeping form on the sofa, snacks and some drinks laid out in the living room. He swallowed thickly when he sees you get up from the couch wearing one of his hold hoodies, making your way towards him.

"Steve?"

You have a soft smile on your face, but it drops when you get a closer look at him. Tears prickle at your eyes when you see the way his neck is littered in bruises, his skin still flushed. He can't look you in the eyes, not after what he'd just done.

"I-

You freeze before him, you don't want to ask. You don't want to know. The broken expression his face is enough for you. You wordlessly leave the living room, locking yourself in, giving FRIDAY instructions to make sure no one can enter.

"Did you talk to y/n" Bucky asks excitedly when he sees Steve sitting in the living room. He knows how excited you were about the movie night, spending days planning every last detail. His excitement drops when he sees the food untouched and you're nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?"

Steve remains silent, staring at his hands. The rest of the team enter the living room, hoping to find you both curled on the couch, but no. Nat's eyes narrow when she sees the hickeys on Steve's neck but something tells her they're not from you, you've never marked him like that before, you've always been so gentle with him.

"How could you?" She hissed, while the rest of the team look at her in confusion. It doesn't take long for them to piece things together. And it's a mess.

You come down to the living room, both Sam and Tony holding Bucky down on the couch while he glares at Steve, his hands still in fists. They all turn towards you with broken eyes, this is not what they ever wanted for you. The second he sees you, he breaks down. You're numb to his cries, his pleas.

He finds you leaving the compound at 1:00 AM from where he's still seated on the couch, something you'd never done before.

"Baby? Where are you going"

You ignore him, making your way to the garage. You were never able to sleep since and staying in bed only left you alone with your thoughts.

"I-I need some space. Don't worry about where I'm going"

"Y/n, please, just let me explain"

"No"

"I made a mistake, I-

"I don't care. I just want need some air"

"Promise me you'll come back?"

You shake your head, you can't even look at Steve. You scoff, shoving past him, not caring when he hisses in pain. His cheek is bruised, spots of dark purple and blue bloom around his eye and you'd seen Nat icing Bucky's hand earlier.

"Y/n, please angel, I-I just want to talk, just promise me you'll come back?"

"I promise" You reluctantly mumble, hopping on your motor bike and speeding off before Steve can call after you again.

You loved him so much.

You fought so hard to pull through for him, you heard every word he'd said to you when you were unconscious.

Tears clouded your vision.

It all happens too fast for you to comprehend.

The car doesn't see you.

The bend is sharp.

You bike is sent over the edge.

Darkness.

It's been a week.

You still haven't woken up.

It's all his fault. It doesn't matter that the driver was intoxicated. It didn't matter that it was dark out. You wouldn't have left the compound if he hadn't done what he did and it eats him alive.

He's not met with any sympathy.

No one bats an eye at his tears or sobs, too concerned about your well being to go and comfort him. Like clock work, every member of the team visits on rotation since they can't all be there at once. however Bucky is exempt from all hospital rules with one brooding, grumpy stare.

Bucky is by your side every single day. He doesn't say anything when Steve grips your hand, praying for you to wake up, silently praying himself while your heart monitor continues to beep. Steve refuses to move from your side but he's not given much of a choice when Fury summons him personally for someone mission related.

He's only gone for a few hours but that's when you finally stir. Bucky is on his feet instantly, paging for the doctor while stroking your hair.

"Hey pretty girl" Bucky whispers when your eyes finally focus, the knuckles of his metal hand gently caressing your cheek. The cool sensation helps you feel more alert. You smile seeing his baby blue eyes, feeling safe as he talks to you softly.

Everything hits Steve all at once. He didn't just betray you. He betrayed the team. His bestfriend. Himself. All the people who had faith in him to make the right choice, to do the right thing, to protect them. And he threw it away. Everyone waited a month for you to fully recover before throwing a welcome back party so you'd actually be able to enjoy it. Steve looked back longingly at the happy group gathered together in the living room, more emotions hitting him again.

He was happy you were alive. His sweet, sweet girl pulled through. H

He was envious of the love everyone was sharing, one he wasn't privy to anymore. He was invited, he was still apart of the team after all but he knew it wasn't his place.

He was jealous.

Jealous of the way you melted into Bucky's side. Longing to feel that warmth that he used to feel himself. Bucky had his arm around your waist, keeping you tucked right by him, taking care of you long after you were discharged. He wasn't going to stop any time soon.

There was something between you two, everyone could sense it. The soft gazes at each other and innocent kisses. Bucky wouldn't let a day go by without pressing his lips to your cheek, your nose, your forehead, the top of your head. He needed you to know you were loved and cared for. He stuck to his guns, claiming his actions were purely platonic but the pink blush on his cheeks proved that he was a bald faced liar.

Steve knows theres no one to blame but himself. He sighs and swallows the lump in his throat as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss the brunette, sealing you both together forever. He's always thought it would be the two of you standing together at the alter but how things had changed. The cheers of the crowd are a dull buzz to him. He watches Bucky swoop in for another kiss, this time dipping you and capturing your lips sweetly.

"I love you Mrs. Barnes"

"I love you more, Mr. Barnes"

Your happy, love struck giggles cause the first tear to fall.

He does his best to smile when you both walk by, flashes of what your wedding would have looked like. The white dress. The veil. The flowers.

if only he never-

But it was too late.

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melloraconteur · 4 months

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Day 006. | DubCon

Phillip Graves x Reader

Synopthesis: Graves betrayed your team, and he wants one last time with you.

Cont. TW; coercion into sex, reader has a vagina, reader is called sugar, Slight breeding kink from Graves.

Word Count -> 563

Not edited or proofread

You cursed as you almost trip on the wet streets of Las Almas, your ankle throbbing from an earlier fall. You wouldn't be running through the dark streets in the dead of night if you hadn't been crossed.

Fresh tears sting your eyes at the thought. You were betrayed. By your lover no less.

How could he betray you and your teammates after the connection between you two? The nights spend in each others bed, soft kisses with even softer gazes, did that mean nothing?

You couldn't dwell on that now, not when you needed to make it out of town. So you trudge on, your service pistol gripped tightly.

Your pistol doesn't help when Graves catches up to you. It clatters onto the wet ground when he slams into you, a cocky smirk on his lips.

"Damn sugar, just as beautiful as I remember." He hums into your ear, his hands a familiar warmth on your cold skin as they hold you to the wall. He presses his front to your back, groaning into your ear. A horrified feeling floods you when you feel his hard cock press against your backside.

"Let me have you one more time, sugar, and I'll let you get out of this city alive." He says. The cold feeling of a blade next to an area of unprotected skin makes the choice for you.

...

You gasp as he slides into your heat all the way, no condom to act as a small barrier. Your body welcomes him and you hate yourself for missing his touch. You hate the pleasure that he gives each thrust, hitting the spongy spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars.

You can't help the moans that slip from your mouth when he treats you so good, just how you liked to be treated.

"T-that's right, Sugar, I couldn't let ya go without a proper goodbye, now could I." he groans into your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You couldn't answer him, not when his tip was hitting your cervix, not when his warm but rough fingers reached down to slap your clit. You jumped and let out a loud moan, not expecting the pleasurable pain that jolted through you.

"F-fuck! baby, s-slow down yeah?" you beg him, the telltale sign of an approaching orgasm flowing throughout you. You feel Phillip shake his head and chuckle darkly.

"Can't do that, sugar, gonna get you pregnant tonight." Fear and arousal flood your body. You've always wanted a baby with someone you loved, not with the man that caused the death of your teammates.

You're shocked by his confession that you can't escape his cock, can't escape the orgasm that was coming all too quickly.

A few more deliberate thrusts later, and he has you creaming on his cock, your mouth open in a 'o' shape as you feel his cum fill your warmth, some of it dripping out around his cock.

A tear slides down your cheek. Phillip sees it and licks it away, moaning softly at the taste before pulling out of you and zipping himself up.

"Go to the church, and head west, my shadows won't follow you." his voice is cold but soft, as if truly saying goodbye to you. You nod and fix your clothes.

You are alone by the time you start towards the church.

Wrote by Melloraconteur. Do not modify, repost onto other sites, or translate.

#Late Kinktober 2023 #phillip graves x reader #cod mw2 x reader #phillip graves smut #TW: coercion into sex

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pinkmirth · 1 year

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𝒮ℋ𝒪𝒲𝒯ℐℳℰ!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝓇ℴ𝒸𝓀 '𝓃 𝓇ℴ𝓁𝓁!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. eren’s got mere minutes to make it to the stage, but he’ll need a taste of you before he goes.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. ( 3.1k words of . . . ) rockstar!eren jaeger x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, established relationship, subtle themes of coercion, quickie, pwp, eren has tattoos, reader wears a mini-skirt & crop top, mentions of cunnilingus and squirting, fingering, titty-sucking, handjob, semi-public (in the hallway), wall sex, eren has a tongue piercing + genital piercing, unprotected/no condoms, use of petnames (baby, princess), explicit language, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 . . . (let it be known that this is an edited and revised repost of my earlier released fic!) — i was inspired by this artwork, all credits go to @lyco_aot on twitter. rockstar rennie has been PLAGUING my mind!

Eren knows better than this.

He should be in room-thirty to test the sound systems for the concert, or squeezing in one last practice session with his bandmates. But what’s the need for such preparations when he could have his hand up your skirt?

“Why’d you bring me here?” The stale atmosphere of the secluded hallway is permeated by your whisper. Eren insisted that it was something ‘important’, but your mind’s preoccupied with the upcoming show. Before you can question him further, he takes hold of your waist and guides you backwards until your back meets the wall, and your leg bumps a nearby guitar case in the process. Eren’s touch is hasty– he’s in a rush.

“Let’s fuck.” Direct as ever, Eren boldly initiates. He seems to have forgotten that his performance is just around the corner. You plant your hands on his chest, feeling warmth radiate onto your palms. Despite your growing appetite for him, you know that giving in would only encourage his reckless behavior.

“Now?” You let out an airy, incredulous laugh. Surely he couldn't be serious, not when he only had a handful of time left to make it to the stage.

“Right here, right fuckin’ now.” Eren firmly decides. The conviction in his voice tells you how much he needs this; needs you. He keeps your body close, emphasizing his arousal by pressing the outline of his erection to your pelvis. The rough denim of his pants chafe against your tiny fabric skirt. He toys with your thighs in his large hands, squeezing at doughy flesh and poking his fingers through the holes of your ripped black stockings. You whine over the ticklish brush of his fingertips.

Eren swipes his hair back to rest behind his ear, a continual habit of his. Long, fluid tresses spill down his broad shoulders, and you can't resist brushing a few dark strands out of his face. His teal eyes are filled with swirling passion as he gazes at you, undeniably lovestruck. To break away from his intense stare, you mention the opening act that’s soon to start. He could definitely use a reminder.

“The concert, ‘Ren.”

“I know.” Your metalhead boyfriend pulls an unconcerned pout. He's never been one for taking responsibility. In his defense, Eren’s confident that he's fully prepared; having practiced his guitar solo tirelessly. His makeup’s finished up too, ink-black eyeliner applied to his waterline in flawless strokes.

He certainly looks show-ready; his grungy appearance is unmistakably ‘Eren-like’. He’s got on his favorite platform boots, the buckled ones that cause a dull echo with every step he takes, along with adding a few spare inches to his already tall stature. Spiked bracelets adorn his wrists, clinking as he rests his hands on the small of your back to tug you close. A loose fitting tank top drapes over his body, revealing the expanse of his warm olive skin. The most striking aspect of his appearance is impossible to ignore— through the tattered jeans he wears, you catch a glimpse of his boner, straining at the dark denim.

Evidently, he’s ready as can be. All that’s left is to get in a short-and-sweet fuck before hitting the stage. He might even use the flimsy excuse that it’ll help him shake off some nerves.

You seem unwilling to take such a risk, especially after how things turned out the last time his libido got the best of him. A few weeks back, Eren failed to notice his cue to take the stage; he was far too occupied with swirling his shiny tongue piercing around your clit. Once he finally arrived, the mussed state of his chocolate-brown hair was enough to let his bandmates know that he’d ‘taken you backstage’... You doubt that they’ll allow you and Eren to live it down.

“You remember what happened the other time,” You mention, dreading the thought of being at fault for another delay. He lifts a thick brow, lips turning upwards into a look of mischief. “Yeah, I remember. You came all over my tongue. I even had to take off my shirt and—”

“Ugh, Eren!” You smack his chest, cheeks going hot with flush. All the while, his prankish laughter ensues. How could you forget? You squirted all over him. The shirtless look only added to his heavy-metal charm, so the mishap worked out for the better. That still won’t hinder him from teasing you endlessly.

“You upset with me?” Eren stifles a chuckle. Upon seeing your eyes roll, he chooses to take it easy on you. “M’sorry, baby... It was hot, though.” He murmurs, squeezing your ass unashamedly. His large hands knead and grope in just the way you like. “I’ll be quick this time around, yeah?” You take his promise with the slightest grain of salt.

Seeking to mend your bruised ego and win you over, he presses fluttery kisses to your neck. It doesn’t take long for him to leave your jugular and gravitate towards your lips. It begins with warm pecks and lightly mingled breaths of air, until his head tips to the right, assertively prodding out his tongue. The silver ball in his mouth coolly grazes your bottom lip as he suckles on it.

You raise a knee to his erection, gently adding pressure. His body jolts at the friction. Eren instinctively grinds his hips, “Fuck, you can’t let me go out there like this,” he groans into your agape mouth. You swallow his sounds, eagerly returning haphazard kisses. “Lemme fuck you good. Please, baby?” He lowly whines against your lips.

“… Don’t take too long.” you sigh out a huffy response, as if you haven’t been convinced ever since he gave your butt a thorough grab. It was just satisfying to hear him plead for you.

He perks up to reveal a dangerous grin, eyes glinting with mischief. “I won't.” And with that, Eren’s flipping up your small skirt. Nimble fingers trace over your panties, feeling at the dampness he caused. Abruptly, your fingers tighten around his shoulders. He pauses at the sudden hitch of your breath.

“What is it? You okay?” to his relief, you meekly nod your head. “Yeah, but we’re in the hallway.” you mention, breathless. He merely shrugs in reply. The tips of his fingers are stationed at the lacy band of your underwear, hooked and ready to pull.

“So?”

“Anyone could walk in on us,” You clarify. Again, he gives a careless shoulder shrug, seeing no need for concern. You feel your patience slipping away. “Do you want your drummer to catch us doing it? Or worse, your manager?”

To that, Eren zealously laughs. “I brought us here for a reason. It’s empty,” his assuring tone provides you with a sense of comfort. “Just trust me, alright?” His fingers ghost over your nub, until he’s rubbing you through your panties. Eren watches the worry melt right off of your pretty face, lips going agape. You end up making more noise than intended when a moan escapes you.

“So loud,” he tauntingly clicks his teeth, “You don’t give a fuck anymore, do you?” Eren chuckles through his nose. He tugs the barrier of cloth aside, feeling at your puckering hole and gathering your sticky essence with the pad of his finger. He sends you a wicked grin before delving in, making light scissoring movements by spreading his lithe digits apart. He knows that time isn’t on his side, but Eren simply can’t imagine skipping out on prep. You need the stretch, even if it’s just for the briefest minute, in order to accommodate him later.

Years of strumming and plucking guitar strings have made him proficient at using his fingers, much to your benefit. The pace builds, with Eren rapidly entering and exiting. The veins in his tattooed forearm protrude as he moves with purpose. He struggles against the clench you’ve sucked him into, gritting his teeth and muttering curses about your tightness. You writhe against the wall, freeing out uneven puffs of air and repetitive calls of his name. Suggestively wet squelches accompany your shaky voice.

“Ohmygod— Eren!” you release a jagged cry. In an instant he’s slipping out, leaving you void and aching for him. Eren lolls out his tongue, bringing his soaked digits to his lips and licking them clean of your essence. You catch onto the slight gleam of his piercing while he laps at the pads of his fingers. “Wish I could eat your sweet pussy, baby,” he mumbles, peering at you through low-lidded eyes. “But there ain’t enough time.”

Eren transfixes his gaze on your boobs. He’s captivated by the rhythmic heaving, watching your chest rise and fall like a tide. Your cropped shirt comes with a dipping v-neck, leaving room for your cleavage to spill past the shallow neckline. There’s red text on the top, ‘PARADIS DEVILS’ displayed in brutal font. Seeing you in his merchandise makes his dick throb.

He fondles your clothed breasts in his sizable hands, scrunching your top above your chest and expertly unclasping your bra. He dips down to level with your chest as soon as the undergarment hits the ground, latching his mouth onto your left nipple. It perks and hardens underneath the chill metal of his piercing. You're lathered in his spit as he makes a mess out of you.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eren slurs, gazing up at you from between your tits with the sparkliest turquoise eyes. Saliva coats his plump lips. You hum at his ministrations, running a hand through his dark hair. “I love you too, baby, but don’t spend all our time on my boobs.” you giggle, gently thumbing his bottom lip.

“Mm… fine,” he mindlessly hums. With one last kiss to the valley of your breasts, Eren reluctantly breaks away and begins to search through the pocket of his black Balmain jeans. He pushes past bobby pins, crumpled pieces of paper from his lyric notepad, a low-charged AirPod case and some guitar picks, until eventually removing a thin hairband.

Defined muscle of his inked biceps ripple as Eren swipes his lengthy hair back and messily bunches it together, holding the hair-tie between his teeth. Your eyes stay trained on the flexure of his tatted arms. “I wanna be able to see you.” His explanation comes out muffled. Hair falls in stray pieces over his forehead, and you can't help but adore the careless bun he threw it all into.

With his brown tresses out of view, Eren’s features have become sharper— enhanced, even. You admire the structured angle of his jaw, the straight slope of his nose, and the subtle cupid's bow of his pink lips.

Eren hurriedly reaches for his pants, studded belt jangling as he undoes it. The dark jeans drop to his ankles, pooling over his bulky shoes. He brings his boxers down with the denim, too. Eight lengthy inches spring free, erect and throbbing in a way that only you can relieve him of. Near the slit of his reddened cockhead lies a stainless-steel bar— the Prince Albert piercing that Eren impulsively got done a couple months back. It adds more stimulation than you could imagine.

He pulls up his graphic tank top and holds it between his teeth, allowing the tip to bob against his lean abdomen. Your eyes can’t seem to break away from the trance of his pulsing cock. Reaching forward, your dainty hand closes around him. Eren hisses at your touch, shuddering over the lazy twirl of your hand as you stroke him. Your thumb goes over the precum-smeared head.

“Fuck, babe,” his mouth drops. “Jus’ hop on my cock already.” You free him from your salacious grasp to hook one leg around his hip, using the other foot to manage balancing your weight on your heel. Your knee-high platform boots produce a low squeak as the soles rub against the ground. Eren warmly pats your sides, prompting you to climb onto him.

“Hold onto me,” he says. You launch yourself up with a little jump, allowing him to do the rest. His strong arms encircle your thighs, hauling you up and supporting your weight underneath his wide palms. You lock your legs around his hips, emitting a faint whine when his dick brushes past your damp folds.

“M’gonna be fast about it,” is Eren’s low disclaimer. You deserve to know that once he starts, he won’t be letting up. His tip catches your engorged nub in the process of him lining up with your fluttering entrance. “You can handle that, right, princess?” You give an eager nod, dazedly looking at him through wispy curled lashes. Your hands are stationed at his shoulders, your grip secure as he keeps you pinned to the wall with his body weight.

Then comes the sudden ping of his phone, chiming from the pocket of his jeans that lay rumpled at his feet. Without even a glance, he recognizes it as a notifier for the performance beginning shortly. “Goddamn.” Eren detests being rushed like nothing else. Nevertheless, he has to make due with the timeframe. The show starts in ten measly minutes, but he’ll manage to satisfy the both of you in five, give-or-take.

“We’re on the clock, ‘Ren. Hurry up ‘n fuck me.” you release a sigh. “Yeah?” Eren hardly speaks, just barely, tongue prodding at his inner cheek. He sees your intention; you simply mean to spur him on since there's no time to waste. The quiet answer he gives is domineering— his firm glare contains a look of raw desire. At long last, he’ll have his way with you.

One fluid motion is all it takes for Eren to drive himself into your sopping core. He’s been inside for no less than a millisecond, but he’s surely about to lose his mind in this pussy— you’re somehow tighter than before, wetter than ever, and squeezing the fuck out of his long, meaty cock.

“Mm, fuck!” You gasp out through tremulous breaths. The vicious way he plunges in and draws out wrings a moan straight from your throat. You feel him twitching intensely from within you, just as the sensation of your contracting walls make his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Given his size, it doesn’t take long for him to reach deep and stir you up from the inside out. His piercing immediately grazes your sweet spot, wracking a mewl from your plush lips. Before you can remotely adapt to him, Eren’s pulling out and slamming back in again, reaching the hilt with every periodic snap of his hips. Your body jolts in his arms. The thick stretch is fleeting and doesn't have a chance to settle in.

“Ah— ‘Ren!” He drinks in your cries, gracing you with the sloppiest of open-mouthed kisses. He rocks you back and forth with pure strength, bouncing you on his dick. The sharp resound of clapping skin penetrates the air— but not as deep as he’s penetrating you. He ruts into you manically, the speed unrelenting. Your manicured nails pierce the tan skin of his shoulders. “I got you, baby,” Eren grunts, voice strained. “I got you.”

He’s entranced by your being, wholly absorbed in how good you make him feel. Eren conveys his affection by maintaining impassioned eye contact, which he never breaks even when pounding into you. His key pendant dangles between your sweat-sheen bodies, swinging with every thrust.

Eren’s tempo picks up. Urgently, he fucks you against the ceramic wall. “I’ve— shit, been waitin’ to do this all day,” he admits through breathy whimpers, the silver ball in his mouth gleaming when he speaks. Despite his best efforts, Eren found himself constantly distracted during microphone testing and instrument rehearsals, as thoughts of you consumed his mind. The day progressed, and his yearning for you only ever grew stronger, until he was unable to resist. He witnesses your beauty and can’t help the urge to bask in it— to bask in you.

“I could fuck you for hours,” Eren groans, punctuating his words with harsh upward thrusts. Your tits bounce against his chest as he delivers forceful, calculated strokes.

Your climax nears. It’s undeniable, considering how you clamp down on his girth like nothing else matters. “I—I’m so close!” you hiccup, choking on your words. It’s like you can feel the dick in your throat. You’re going crazy, and world-renowned rockstar Eren Matthew Jaeger is to blame. If he continues to whisk your guts around like this, you’ll wind up with an empty brain and a full womb— and Eren’s determined to make that happen before the opening act.

“Gonna come, baby?” he coos, flashing you a crude smile. Your reply consists of a fractured whine, with a high-pitched 'mm-hm!' being the only discernible utterance. He prompts your brewing orgasm by drilling away at your cunt. “Then fuckin’ do it.” His guttural command impels you to snap. When you throw your head back and spasm in his arms, Eren knows he’s done it; made you cum all over his dick in no less than four minutes.

He’s soon to follow. Eren leans his forehead onto yours, panting out calls of your name against your lips. The deepness of his moans reverberate and bounce around your ears– you can hear his desperation to finish. He buries his face into the crook of your neck when he ultimately comes, cock jumping as he uses your snug pussy to empty his balls. You're filled with him to the very brim, warm seed trickling past your cunt in pearly white globs.

Your frantic heartbeat begins to calm as the high gradually wears off. You unclasp Eren from your iron grip, and he guides you back down to your feet. He chuckles over the slight shake in your legs. “Careful,” He embraces you tightly, providing a stable anchor and keeping you from stumbling against the wall for support. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist to give a weary hug.

“I finished in time. Told you not to worry,” he mutters, chin resting atop your head. As always, his restive hands find their way to the round of your ass.

“If you didn't, I woulda’ made you go out there with your pants down.” you scoff at him. Eren’s chest vibrates with unbelieving laughter. “Sure you would, princess.” He pulls his jeans back into place and fastens the belt. As for you, he helps to flatten out your bunched-up skirt. From underneath soaked panties, you keep loads of his arousal stored inside of your spent pussy. He’s truly blessed to have such a pretty little cumdump.

“I’ll take care of you properly after the show,” Eren faintly whispers, low-toned words fluttering onto the shell of your ear. His assured promise makes you wet with anticipation. He grabs his cherry red guitar from the sticker-covered case and slings it over his shoulder, exchanging a pillowy-soft kiss with you before parting ways.

Eren knows so much fucking better than this— sneaking in a fast-fuck before a gig. Lust clouds his better judgment.

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f4ye-4 · 26 days

Text

-do you plan on getting married, ken? you unfeignedly asked, eyelids partly closed, nearly humming in a soft tone.

his eyes darted on you in a flash, so surprised you asked this so suddenly.

-why this question, love? do you want us to get married? his expression softens, pondering about your question. of course, he doesn’t show it, but oh lord, how many times Nanami didn’t think about putting a ring on your finger, a ring he'd choose himself in secret just for you, to seal your deathless love.

Coming back to his mind, you faintly shook your head in front of his eyes, full of concern, and cracked a smile, a smile he wanted to keep to himself, a smile he wanted to print in his head forever.

-So, Nanaminnnn, when are you going to give me a response, huh? you pursued, hoping to get a response that meets your expectations. you couldn’t not thinking about a wonderful wedding dress you would get into one day, walking down the aisle and exchanging your vows, a moment of pure bliss that nothing could stop. but maybe it couldn’t stop because it would never happen.

-mhhh, is that really what you want dear? deep down he wanted it, because he would lay his eyes on you and all the sorrow would go away, you were the most precious thing to him, and if there was something meant to happen to you, his gaze would turn blank, drained of the emotions you once brought him, and his heart, only beating for you like this, would shatter in whetted pieces, slowly causing an indescribable prick in his being.

-yes! what would i ask you then? if you propose yourself to marry me, i’d say yes for sure!

he crinkled his eyes, to glance at you with beaming eyes and say

-if it is what you want, i make this a promise to marry you.

Nanami never broke one single promise he made to you. Unfortunately, life didn’t let him fulfill his vow this time.

one call and everything ended. it was so sudden, so heartbreaking, so unforeseen, which made it even worse.

your phone shaked in your sweaty palms, it was unbelievable. You couldn't even set foot in the mortuary, the stifling atmosphere of the place engulfing you. but, it would be the last time you’d see him.

-ken, why wouldn’t you marry me ? you said in a wobbly tone

gathering your last bit of strength, you cried and crumpled on the cold and raw ground, having only yourself to blame. you hugged him for the very last time and left.

sadly, he died, without marrying you.

in another life, they say….

hey heyyyyy, here’s a lil surprise for april fools 🥰🥰, i needed to write nanami angst :)))

tag: @jelluf1sh

©𝐅𝟒𝐘𝐄-𝟒𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: reposts and feedback is highly appreciated but do not copy, plagiarize, translate, modify, any of my works, this also applies to my edits/collages.

#faye’s stuff #faye writes #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami angst #★ —due to be edited

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brights-place · 23 days

Note

John Dory x putt putt troll reader?

Please and thank you! :]

John dory X Putt Putt S/O

Pairing: John dory X S/O

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff

A/N: Okay I love the putt putt trolls cause their designs are adorable and so sweet! (๑>؂•̀๑)

- Putt Putt Trolls, also called Golf Trolls just like yourself are Trolls that hail from the Pop Troll tribe that live in a sub-tribe away from the rest of the Tribe... - You and your tribe have been cut off from the other pop trolls for a couple of decades being founded soon after the last Trollstice and the events...

- Putt Putt Trolls like yourself are the first Trolls to be part of a new category after Trolls World Tour introduced the Trolls being identified by their genre of music they based their cultures around thus it marked the return of the older classification - When in Trolls world tour when they went to grab clay you popped out from your fluffy golf ball form with the other putt putt trolls and made eyecontact with John dory and the others - You know the loud scream when Putt Putt Trolls call burgers "meat circles" because the word "burger" sounds like "Bergen" yeah that loud scream was you who literally ran away and rolled away - Turns out you were Viva is bestfriend when everybody got seperated so you were also one of the main defenders of putt putt village - You stood out to John dory with your frizzy or straight hair with your f/c colored hue so a Troll in the Tribe who has blue hair has a similar tone or color body and outfit like you and your f/c body wearing a wool outfit and the similar pattern diamond design - John dory was pulled in by you who was standing beside Clay and Viva protectively eyeing the group down - John dory went over to you and tried to talk to you buy you took a step back in panic cause you really haven't had interactions with others who weren't fellow putt putt trolls - When they took Clay you were gonna chase after them but stayed behind with Viva - After the misson to save floyd - Clay invited all of them to come with him and Viva to have a better look around Putt putt village John dory eyes widened when seeing you again - John dory couldn't help but want to make conversation with you and was interested on how you survived from the bergens like the other putt putt trolls

- TOUCH-STARVED! HE IS TOUCHED STARVE! GIVE HIM HIS AFFECTION! He's love struck when you pepper his face with kisses

- He explores alot so he'd invite you to come with him exploring you both still visit Branch and the others but you both enjoying exploring together for fun - Yet he knew you were still scared of bergens so he tried to help you get rid of that fear which kind of worked - John dory loves you and kisses your cheek

- Dancing together to brozones songs or to songs that you both enjoy.

- he calls you randomly when your mid-conversation with someone and complains to you about how much he misses you

- You two end up on going on a couple of dates with eachother giggling and smiling

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

#fluff #headcannons #x reader #fanfic #headcanon #headcanons #john dory trolls band together #john dory trolls #john dory x reader #john dory #trolls 3 movie #trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls 3 #enjoy #dreamworks trolls

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cerridwen007 · 10 months

Text

She.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader.

Word count: 1.2k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Originally going past your apartment to check up on you after his shift, Javier finds himself engrossed by you as you masterbate on your bed. He begins questioning if it's really worth it trying to distance himself from you.

Inspired by the song She by Tyler, The Creator and Frank Ocean.

Warnings/notes: SMUT with a touch of angst, pining, mutual masterbation, voyeurism, swearing, no use of y/n, bad Spanish.

A/N: Hi yall, I'm trying to get back into posting at least once a week, but I'm not going to make any promises cause knowing me that won't very last long. Also, let me know if you like this cause I have planned for this to be a 3+ part series, and I've nearly finished editing part 2 and have started writing part 3. Hope you enjoy and likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated.

Part two: Her. Part three: The Two of Us.

********

"Fuck, your a goddamn creep Javi." He whispered to himself.

Yet he didn't stop watching you. He had come to check up on you after his shift ended but as he parked his car out the front of your apartment, he saw the lights were on and he watched your naked silhouette fresh from the shower, prance around your apartment.

He watched you walk to your bedroom and plop yourself down on the bed. He gulped, having an idea of what you were going to do next, angry at himself that he couldn't pry his eyes away.

You had just gotten out of the shower, a much needed clean after the hot, sweaty summer day in Bogota. You didn't bother to get dressed in the comfort of your own apartment, still feeling warm from the heat that Bogota provided, even at night.

You thought about Javi and bit your lip as you walked to your bedroom, sitting on your bed adjacent to the sliding door that opened onto your patio. You and him had recently decided to put a pause on your fuckbuddy turned situationship. You had admitted your feelings for Javier one night but knew he wasn't likely to reciprocate.

What you didn't know is that he did. He felt the same way for you as you felt about him. But with his work schedule, commitment issues, and feelings of being unworthy of you and your love. He denied his reciprocating feelings, telling himself that it's better for you if he distances himself.

You swallowed your pain and agreed to stop seeing each other for anything physical, at least for the time being. Both of you were finding it super hard. Craving each other not only physically but also the comforting general presence of one another as well.

You breathed shakily as your hands carefully roamed up and down your thighs. You parted them open just enough that you could place your hand between them. You threw you head back as you circled your clit. A soft moan escaping your lips.

You wished like hell that it was Javi's hand pleasing you, making you feel good, but it wasn't. And as much as you tried, you or anyone else for that matter has never nor probably will make you feel good as Javier consistently did. Netherless, you continued teasing your hot, wet, middle.

"Fuck Hermosa." Javier whispered to himself. He was watching you touch yourself in the comfort of your own home through your sliding door and sheer curtains, which did hardly anything at covering your naked body from his desire filled eyes.

He took a deep breath as he watched your scrunched face, trying to breath in the scent of your arousal as if he was in your room himself, his owns hand the cause of your pleasure stricken face like he had done many times before.

No matter how many times he saw your naked body, or watched your eyes squint from pleasure, or tasted your sweet taste on his tongue, he never got sick of it.

Infact since you and him both agreed to pause your hookups, he had found himself craving you more aggressively, palming himself under his desk at work for some relief as thoughts of your pretty tits bouncing up and down as you rode him, stained his mind. He even had nearly been caught a few times jacking off in the bathroom or the file room, needing to relieve some tension that thoughts of you caused.

But this time his cock seemed to ache and strain even harder against his jeans watching you. Watching you masturbate was the closest thing to touching you himself he had gotten in the last few weeks.

Feeling your pussy grow wetter from your fingers stimulation, you gather your slick with your middle and ring finger and pushed them into your pulsing hole.

"Fuck....oh God." You moaned out quietly.

Your fingers curl inside you wet, hot, cunt. Lacking the length and thickness like Javi's fingers had to reach that spot that had you seeing stars, gasping out loudly. You groan softly and try arching your back and bucking your hips into your fingers to go deeper with little progress.

"Goddamn cariño, that's right fuck yourself on your fingers.....I bet you wish they were mine."

His heart was racing, his breath fast and shallow as he watched you try your best to satisfy yourself. The crossing of his morals of watching you in the privacy of your own home were long forgotten as he found himself transfixed on your body, the body he so dearly wished to spend hours kissing from top to bottom, pleasing every night, coaxing orgasms out of until you were fully spent.

His erection was painfully throbbing in his jeans, his hands reaching down to palm himself, his eyes never leaving your beautiful curves, seemingly laid out like a buffet for him yet far away enough that he couldn't engulf himself in.

You fight back loud whimpers and moans as you bring your other hand down to rub your clit as you pump your fingers in and out of your cunt.

"Javi.....yes Javi..." You moan quietly.

He can see that you're getting close, by the way your legs are shaking and your eyes are squeezed shut as your mouth hangs open. He reaches down to unbutton and unzips his jeans and pulls out his length. He feels his heartbeat racing in his head, chest and cock.

Javi begins stroking his his hard length, groaning loudly. He is pent up, and as he rubs his sensitive tip, he can tell he is already close and he wants to cum with you. He pumps himself furiously as his eyes are locked on your trembling body, your hands furiously working to bring you to your high.

"Fuck Javi...yes!" You cry out as you bring your self to your high. You legs shake and buck up uncontrollably as you slowly rub your clit, working yourself through your high.

He can't hear you cry out his name as you cum but he sure as hell imagines you are as he pumps his cock till he too cums all over his steering wheel. You both leans back and close your eyes panting as you recover from your highs, you mind's both thinking of the other, so close to each other yet so far away.

As he catches his breath, he looks down at his mess and wipes the forearm of his shirt over the steering wheel to clean it before realizing he should probably head home now. Guilt clouds his mind as he gives one last look at you, lying in your bed, smiling happily in your post-orgasm bliss. He smiles softly before turning on his car and driving away quickly.

You exhale deeply and turn on your side to face your sliding door, seeing the empty street. You sigh, wishing that you could cuddle in bed with Javier, like you always did after sex with him. Resting your head on his chest, your fingers and legs entagled with one another as you fall asleep.

Instead you get up to turn off your bedroom light and tuck yourself into bed, a solemn look on your face as you rest your head on the pillow, a single tear slips found your cheek as you try and push away the thoughts of Javier and how much you miss him.

As Javier drives home he thinks about you. He doesn't know how much longer he will be able to keep himself away from you but he knows that sooner or later he would end up letting himself succum to you again.

*******

#narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #smut #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #javier pena #narcos #pedro pascal

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uzuicore · 9 months

Text

YOUR FAV COMFORTING YOU

pairing: your fav x you genre: fluffy, angst summary: in which you're being too hard on yourself, but your fav comforts you cw: slight mention of eating disorders and mental illness

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Hues of bright orange painted the atmosphere as darkness descended inside the house. Without the strength to get up from the large and soft, white sofa to turn on the lamps, you just groaned and kept glancing out the glass window framed by wide curtains.

The sound of the living room's doorknob reminded you that you didn't live alone, and after your partner entered the building, the yellowish glow surrounded you again.

"How was your day?" they raised a question after taking off their shoes, placing their phone on the small table in front of the couch, and sitting down next to you.

"I don't know, normal like any other day?" you replied without making eye contact.

"Really? 'Cause on other days, when I come home, you're not in the dark with that look on your face," they pointed out. "(Y/N) I think I know you better than I know myself, so if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I know something's wrong."

You maintained your gaze at your trembling, sweaty hands until you let out, "I ate more sweets than I should have today," your shoulder slumped. "I said I'd get back to eating well and having healthier habits, but I couldn't control myself, again."

They pulled you to lie on their chest, their hand caressing your arm as they planted gentle kisses on the top of your head. "And that's all you've done today?" they questioned.

"Sorry?"

"I mean, last week you showed me the list of new healthy habits you wanted to keep, it was like five or so, right?" they illustrated. "What I'm asking is if you haven't managed to do any of them in the last few days," they concluded.

"Well, I," you stammered, "I managed to get up earlier, I exercised and I also ate more fruits and vegetables, but," they interrupted you.

"Wouldn't it be easier and kinder to yourself to acknowledge the things on your to-do list that you are managing to accomplish, rather than focusing on just one that's being more challenging?" they contested, now holding your face and making you look into their eyes. "Depending on the complexity of the habit, it takes us a month or even a year to form it, you know that?"

"I'm aware of that, but..."

"Are you really?" they pressed, standing and then crouching in front of you. Holding your hands in theirs, they recommended, "(Y/N) instead of trying to change everything in your routine so radically, why don't we try changing one thing at a time?"

"We?" you noted.

"Yeah, 'we'. 'Cause your plans will always include me too. Just as I want you in all my plans," they placed a kiss on your knuckles. "Stop being so hard on yourself, let's do this step by step, and together, okay?"

You embraced them and buried your face in their neck finally letting some tears run down your cheeks. They caressed your hair as they whispered in your ear, "You're amazing, I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

JEAN, eren, armin, MIKASA, LEVI, erwin, hange, zeke GYOMEI, kyoujurou, TENGEN, TANJIRO, AKAZA

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hydrangeyes · 6 months

Text

Missing you

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

Aizawa x Male reader

(Y/n just returned from an out-of-the-country mission. And well how can you blame him for immediately looking for his precious boyfriend?) unedited

+Fluff (✿◠‿◠) +

Height: 6'2

Gender: Male

Age: 32

personality: Impulsive, bubbly, kinda forgetful

Hair color: Hazelnut brown

Eye color: honey brown

body type: Lean but muscular, not bulky, soft

Quirk: ????

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

Y/n has never run so fast in his life.

Y/n didn't really think through exactly what he was currently doing. That is breaking into his boyfriend of 4 years, workplace. Well sort of breaking, he had a copy of his mans' teacher id..... did that count?

How was he supposed to know they added extra security!? Hell why was all might chasing after him, they knew each other dammit!! Y/n conveniently forgot just how different he looked now, being both taller and muscular than when he last saw the prized hero.

Thinking quickly Y/n scrambles to the nearest door and dove inside without (once again) thinking it through.

Panting and wheezing a little, Y/n blink seeing a bunch of eyes now on him.

"Y-yo..." he stutters out to apparently a bunch of kids mid-training.

"Y/n? You idiot how did you get in here?" a familiar tired voice call out not far from y/n. Immediately forgetting where he was Y/n tackles the man with a delighted laugh.

"Shota!!"

Said man was previously sitting on the floor next to his students' belongings, leaning back on his rolled-up sleeping bag. Both him and y/n now a sprawl on the bag and floor.

"I'm so happy to see you, as soon as I got off the plane-"

"Y/N!"

Aizawa groans as y/n finally stop talking looking at him with his full attention. (Y/n: ≧◉◡◉≦??) "Maybe here isn't the place for this? my students..." he grumbles. Y/n blinks finally catching on and looks from their little bubble to see the students all gathered and watching with interest.

"a-ah, um sorry about interrupting kiddos." y/n coughs out realizing he did it again. Getting up and helping Aizawa he bows deeply before straightening and rubbing the back of his next. " Couldn't help rushing to see my sweetheart."

the burst of surprised outcries filled the gym and Aizawa winced as he sees Mina and Denki grab onto Y/n demanding answers. glancing over at the door he waves off a thoroughly confused all might wondering if he should end the class early. He could sneak off while they were distracted with Y/n.....

"So Mr. L/n what's Mr. Aizawa like outside of school?"

"hm? well I guess it depends! usually he's cuddly and - mftt?"

Y/n blinks looking down to see aizawa's scarf covering his mouth. looking back y/n chuckles nervously seeing aizawa glare at them. "That is none of their business, also you still have yet to answer my question. How did you get in?"

Y/n fully turns and giving him a kiss on the cheek, "Come on sweetheart, I wasn't going to say anything embarrassing..." Y/n inwardly let's out a breathe when that seems to calm the man down.

"I do have a copy of your old id card, it still works apparently." Y/n shrugs.

sighing and rubbing his temple, Aizawa waves at his students. "Class dismissed, I have to get the situation this idiot no doubt caused cleared up."

:One awkward mini teacher meeting later:

Y/n pouts from where he is sitting on the couch. He wasn't exactly in trouble but he was told off once things were cleared. Now here he was in aizawa's dorm apartment, which was confusing they had a place already, waiting for his sweetheart to finish showering.

"oh peaches, It's not a crime to love someone too much right?" y/n dramatically coos to a black cat that comes to him sniffing his leg curiously. their collar pendant engraved with 'peachs <3'.

"In your case, no."

Smiling softly y/n looks back to see Aizawa drying his hair wearing black sweatpants and a long sleeve grey shirt. "Mmh good, I don't think I could stop." y/n teases. Aizawa rolls his eyes and comes around to sit next to him.

Laying back on the couch arms, Y/n tugs him to lay on top. "I've missed you."

Aizawa chuckles softly and gives him a kiss.

"I've missed you too."

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

short but felt like this would be a fun start to this book. I should say that the UA whenever I write about it or our beloved characters are in a college setting (U.A being the college). As well as characters being OOC canon-wise because of this.

anyway, Thanks cupcakekiller for the request!!

#male reader #x male reader #Aizawa x male reader #top male reader #Bhna x male reader

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saltsicklover · 8 months

Text

Part Three

Part Three is here and this is where shit really starts to get angsty. So much love for this chapter, honestly. Enjoy!!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3400+

Rating: R

Warnings: Smoking, Rude Bob, Drinking/Drunkeness, mentions of sex, swearing, pocket knife, once again Rude AF Bobby Floyd

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The gym was decorated to the nines, streamers and balloons, flashing lights and a DJ booth. There were tables scattered around the perimeter, leaving most of the floor open for dancing. The room was abuzz with energy, girls dragging their dates to the dance floor.

Bob didn't have a date. It wasn't that he couldn't get one, it was more the point that he didn't want to deal with all the expectations that came with having one. The sex at the end of the night he could've gotten behind, it was all the stuff before it that he had a problem with. The dinner date before hand, then being attached at the hip for the rest of the night. The slow dances that he would've had to take part in and the sitting through conversations that never seemed to interest him in the first place seemed like the absolute last thing he wanted to find himself doing.

His suit fit well, of course it did. His parents had enough money for things like that. The gray dress shirt complimented the gray pinstripes of the black suit that clung to his frame. His shoes were shined and his tie was straight. He looked good, and the girls were sure to tell him he did.

But soon the warmth of the gym was getting to him, sweat beading around his forehead. The music was loud and the headache blooming behind his eyes made sure he knew. He excused himself from Gene who was busy scoping out the lone girls on the other side of the gym and headed for the back of the school, looking to get a breath of fresh air.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone was out here," Bob held an unlit Cigarillo between his fingers, slipping a small silver case into his back pocket. He tucks the smoke behind his ear, leaving it unlit as he steps further out of the school.

The words left his mouth before he could even think. Bob's eyes caught the one girl he really wasn't expecting to see tonight, Duchenne. She was dressed in a beautiful maroon dress, the thin straps showing off her shoulders. The skirt of her dress was piled around her upper thighs, her legs sticking out into the grass. She wore sneakers, the sight of which caused Bob to chuckle a bit to himself.

"It's fine, Bertie, I was just going in," Duchenne pushes herself to stand, brushing her hands off on the skirt of her dress. That nickname again- he hated it. She sounded more exhausted than inconvenienced.

"You don't have to leave on my account," Bob speaks, moving towards the spot next to her, "Seriously, it's okay. We can sit here like adults." She rolls her eyes but sits down, not wanting to fight it out, but also not wanting to return to the dance yet. She feels a little tipsy, her body swaying a bit as she moves.

"What are you doing out here?" Bob asks, his voice soft, kind. It sounds just how she remembered it did when they first met. It melts her heart a bit. He almost asked 'What are you doing here', but caught himself. It shouldn't have seemed so improbable that a beautiful girl like her would be at the dance. He leans back a bit, pulling his things, his keys, wallet, a silver cigarette case, and pocket knife from his pockets. He throws them into a pile on the grass next to him before leaning back on his hands.

"I just couldn't deal with all the heat and the noise and the grinding," She giggling, playing with the fabric of her skirt. Bob laughs right along with her. "Why are you out here?"

"I just needed a minute, these things aren't my style," He confesses with a shrug.

"Ha, right. Not your style, whatever you say, Bertie," She rolls her eyes, a smile still playing on her lips. Since when was a room full of well dressed and half desperate girls not Bob Floyd's style? Duchenne leans over to grab the silver case from the pile of Bob's things. She flips the lid, bringing it up to her nose and takes a deep inhale. The full scent of the tobacco causes a warm feeling to spread throughout her chest.

Bob watches her carefully as she sniffs the smokes. His brows are furrowed a bit, but a smirk spreads over his lips as she squeezes her eyes tight, breathing in deeply once more. Finally, Duchenne closes the case with a metallic click before placing it back into the pile of his things.

"Why do you call me that?" He asks her after a beat of silence. There is tension in his voice. She narrows her brows at him, trying to cover up the fact that she is thinking whether or not to tell him the truth.

"I don't know... Ah fuck it," She whispers to herself before continuing, facing him more head on, "I didn't always call you that, you know, I guess I just wanted to get under your skin. I wanted you to feel the way you made me feel. I know its selfish and petty, but there's this part of me that is still that girl from freshman year who thought we had a chance at being friends before you went and made the swim team and fucked it all up." The words spill from her lips so fast she doesn't even realize she is saying them, all of the things she has wanted to say to him for years. She put all of the blame on his shoulders- he couldn't blame her for it either. She hadn't changed, it was him who had.

"I always liked you, Bob, I still do. Or maybe I like the guy I met a couple of years ago, the same one who helped file papers in the office with me during study hall for extra credit, the same guy who shared his lunches with people who forgot theirs. The sweet, helpful boy that I so wanted to be friends with because you were just so good. I wanted to be that good, and then those damn teammates of yours got into your head and turned you into a dick,"

Bob takes in each and every word, letting them run right through him. It hurts his heart to know that the girl he has always thought was so good thought he was too, key word, was. He wants to defend himself, but not only does he not deserve it, he can't find the words to even begin. He sits there, staring at her, mouth opening and closing.

"I think I might be a little drunk," She speaks again, her voice quiet on the wind.

"Johnny spiked the punch,"

"Ah, yeah, then I'm very drunk," She giggles to herself, "So drunk that I can admit to myself that I still like you, even if you have been nothing but mean to me. Maybe it's because I think I deserve it, every word, every mean thing you have ever said to me. And maybe it's the alcohol or the self deprecation, but God I want to kiss you,"

Bob's blood runs cold then molten. He couldn't have possibly heard her right. Duchenne wants to kiss him?

"I wouldn't stop you," He whispers, leaning ever so closer to her. There is still a good foot between them, and he isn't planning on pushing his luck.

"Of course you wouldn't. Men like you will fuck anything that moves if given the chance," She bites her lip, looking at him half lidded eyes. The comment stings Bob, burning right into his chest. "Help me up, would you? I've gotta get back in there,"

Bob doesn't say a word, instead, he climbs to his feet before taking his hands in hers, pulling her up from the grass below. He tries not to think about how soft her hands are in his, or the way she looks at him, her eyes glimmering. They are so close now, and he could lean in, steal that kiss that they both want, but he doesn't. He can't get himself to. Instead, he drops her hands, offering her a lopsided smile.

"Goodnight, Bobby," She leans in with a whisper, a smirk on her beautifully glossed lips. The nickname sends a pleasant chill down his spine. He wishes she would've called him that from the beginning; that she would call him that for the rest of forever.

"Goodnight," He whispers back, his eyes closed tight. He is doing everything in his power to not reach for her, to not pull her body into his and kiss her. Bob knows damn well he doesn't deserve the pleasure of kissing her.

She moves to the open door, grabbing onto the jamb. With a deep inhale, she turns to see Bob with his eyes still closed tightly, one hand running through his hair. The long locks tangle in his fingers, she wishes it were her hands instead. He mumbles something to himself, something she can't make out.

"Hey, Bobby," Her voice comes out a little sing-song-y. Bob savers the way it floods over his skin. He lets the sound seep deep into his bones; he swears he could live of it that nickname alone. So, he saves the memory deep within his chest, in the white warmth there. It fits perfect next to the image of her in math class, the one with her tongue out, large golden frames on her face.

"Yeah?" Is the only thing he can muster, the nickname thrumming through him. The moment his eyes open, she already moving, barreling towards him. She slams her body into his, arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. He stumbles backwards from the force of her body, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they both fall into a heap on the grass.

None of it was graceful or beautiful. Their relationship up until that point was too tumultuous. It was all crashing waves and thunder, electricity under their skin like lightening. Everything between them burned, lips covered in gasoline, all consuming and red hot.

Four years of pent up aggression and hidden feelings come together into one searing kiss that leaves them both breathless and blushing. They fit together in the way bodies should, his palms against the expanse of her waist, fingers reaching to encapsulate as much of her as he can. Her knees rest on either side of his hips, caging him down.

"What the hell was that?" He chuckles, holding her body tightly on top of his own. Between the kiss, the fall, and the way his hands are holding tightly to her waist, his head spins a bit. The moon above him the only thing he can focus on for a moment, that, and the way he can feel someone's heartbeat against his chest. At this point, he doesn't know if it belongs to her or himself, but he can't find it in himself to care. The way it hits ragged against his chest makes him feel just a little bit more alive with each thump.

He steals that feeling away too, tucking it in next to the new memory of his name of her lips.

"I- Uhh... We graduate next week, and I don't know, I guess I just needed to know if I was right," She breathes deeply over him, her voice coming out mousy and unsure. His hand rakes through her hair, pulling back the pieces that have stuck to the sides of her face.

The way she looks down at him sends a shockwave through his system; he lets his hands cradle her face for a moment longer than he probably should have, but God she is so pretty. She has always been pretty, he knew that, but the look in her eyes and the way she leans into his touch as he draws a thumb across her cheek has him fucking swooning.

The air around them is muggy and thick, full of unsaid words and too much animosity- that part they both hate, and maybe that's where it's coming from. Not a dislike for each other, but the dislike for how things have fallen into place, for how they ended up in this moment, tangled up together. Until this moment they treaded the line between hate and desire, after all, it's a fine, sharp line- either side bound to leave them bloody and broken hearted.

"Right about what?" He is almost too afraid to ask. Maybe he shouldn't have.

She reaches up and brushes his hair away from his face, the softness of his hair bringing a small smile to her face.

"Right about one kiss making up for the four years of torment, making it all worth it," She chuckles mostly to herself, "God I should hate you, I want to hate you, but all I can think about is kissing you again."

He doesn't give her time to say another word before he is pressing his lips firmly to hers again. He brings a gentle hand down to her chin, tilting her head to slot his mouth against hers, angling the kiss deeper. His other hand follows the taught muscle of her jaw down to her neck; he lets the edges of his fingertips graze lightly over her skin. The kiss is everything. It's tongues and teeth and so much emotion. She wants to cry. He wants to get on his knees and thank God. The kiss leaves them both so broken and so whole at the same time.

His hands wander over her body, feeling every inch of red hot skin he can get under the gentle touch of his fingertips. She tangles her hands into his suit jacket, her knuckles pressed firmly to his chest, holding him down. She can feel the thumping of his heart beneath her balled up fists. He finds her heartbeat when his fingertips grace over the connection of her neck and jaw.

They are tangled up in each other until they aren't. Breathing deeply from each other, hands still connected, lips parted. The mixture of her perfume, sweet and light, with the dense scent of his cherry tobacco makes them both a bit weak in the knees- so wound up together, entangled.

"I think I should go," Bob finally whispers after a minute of sharing air, their foreheads pressed together. He doesn't stop himself from saying the words, even though that white hot part of his chest was trying to strangle the words out of his head before he could say them. His chest hurts. He deserves the ache.

"You want to leave," Duchenne whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. She tries to keep them at bay as she flutters her lashes. Her tone isn't accusatory, instead, it's full of knowing.

He hates that she's right.

"I don't want to, but I need to," The lie is easily off his lips as he sits them both up, unwinding his hands from around her body. He doesn't want to leave this moment, with his hands on her, Duchenne holding him even tighter. He doesn't want to go unwind the clock, go back to anytime before they were tangled together. Bob is thankful that she pulls her own hands from their place around his lapels. He knows he wouldn't have had the strength to do it himself. He shifts her from his lap to the damp grass beside him, the humidity from the late night clinging to the blades of grass, their clothes, their skin. It's sticky and consuming, both of them struggling to breathe.

"I don't understand," She whispers, the waver in her voice unmistakable. Bob stands, leaving her sitting, staring at her hands bound loosely in the folds of her skirt, the fabric now dirty and wrinkled. He likes it better that way. It feels right, more like their shared past rather than the one they may have shared if he wasn't so damn mean.

There's a metaphor in there somewhere; between the dirt under her fingernails and the way her hands find themselves winding around softness. Before it was the grass, then his body, now the fabric of her clothes. The juxtaposition of the cleanliness of his hands and the dirty ache that has taken over his chest, slowly snuffing out the warmth, the memories threatening to go with them. Maybe on paper, scrawled in looping wet ink, this is beautiful, the brokenness they have found themselves in. The inability to go backwards, to cross back to the comfortable side of the line.

But in reality, it just hurts.

"I didn't plan for you. We graduate next week, Duchenne, I move across the country in a month. I have it worked out to fast track my degree so that I can get into the Navel Academy. I have everything planned out. You can't expect me to give all that up because you got drunk and decided you needed to kiss me to fix your life," Bob's tone is hostile, the meanness he has fought so hard to keep at bay, the meanness that keeps himself safe, bubbles to the surface. "I didn't work my ass off for four years, doing advanced classes and killing myself in swimming to throw it all away for a girl, especially a girl like you,"

It was a cheap shot. He knows it the second it leaves his lips. Bob hates himself for it. After years of his much too put together parents telling him to keep his image up and take pride from those he surrounds himself with, the words just slipped. His Mother would preach about him finding the right girl, someone prim and proper that he could bring home. Someone she would approve of. She never would have approved of Duchenne. Not that it had ever mattered to him before everything went to hell in the first place. He doesn't stop himself to wonder why it matters now.

He doesn't ask himself because he knows the answer already. His Mother's opinion doesn't matter. It never has.

The truth is Bob knows he doesn't fucking deserve her. Not after the way he has treated her for the last four years. Not after how he let his friends treat her. Not after any of it. There's no coming back from how awful he had been. That much he knows, at least, he convinces himself he does.

It's just easier that way.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Pain and frustration grate through her words. "We could have had one night where we weren't trying to kill each other, but instead of kissing me, you're trying to fucking fight me again! God damnit Bobby! I really thought you were different than this!"

Bob wants to be different, God, he wants nothing more than to be different. He wants to be different for her, he wants to be the version of himself that lives in her head.

"I guess I'm the one girl you won't fuck, huh?" Duchenne whispers those words to herself, her tone defeated. Bob wasn't supposed to hear them. He doesn't look at her, he can't, instead he takes a couple of steps back, the heels of his palms pressed firmly against his eyes. His brows are furrowed, a pained expression knit through his features. Her words hit him square in the chest. Hard.

Duchenne almost shakes with anger, or maybe it's disappointment. Either way she is holding back a title wave of tears and curses.

"So your just going to walk away?!" She yells, the tears in her eyes blurring the outline of his body. She climbs to her feet, a bit shaky and off balance. He wants to reach out and steady her, but he doesn't. His hands find home in his pants pockets; he buries them deep, clutching onto the fabric to keep himself from reaching for her.

"Okay, that's fine. I didn't ask you to stay. I just thought that maybe, after everything, you might've realized that you had the capability of being a nice person. A good man. But I should've known," She shakes her head, fighting to keep her tears from spilling. She juts a finger out, pressing it square against his chest as she leans in close, her words no more than a whisper, "Once an asshole, always an asshole,"

Bob doesn't even give her time to say anything else, he kneels to grab his keys and wallet before he is turning on his heel. The only thing he hears as he crosses the threshold back into the school is a ragged sob coming from the broken girl he left behind.

#bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #asshole bob floyd

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fluffomatic · 1 year

Note

Maybe Xavier could be a bit to nosey and get caught by some mischievous Cornish pixies, and they give him wut he oh so deserves

This was not supposed to be a comic but fuck I couldn't help myself! Than I was only planning on making a 1 page comic but obviously that didn't last. I just coming up with more I wanted to add so I added it. It took way longer to finish but damn I think it was worth it 😅

Xavier is just fascinated with magical creatures, he likes to sneak out at night to watch em whenever he can. One night he spots a small gathering of pixies. He thought there was only 4 in the group. He didn't realize there was a 5th pixie flying around. Unfortunately for him, the pixie is also very fascinated with Xavier~ The little gremlin knew they had to mess with the silly wizard spying on the group. All the creatures pretty much know how ticklish Xavier is. All his other creatures love to torture him constantly, and Xavier isn't exactly quiet when he's tickled~ So the pixies were absolutely gonna take advantage of that! They aren't completely evil tho, they truthfully love the little wizard so after their attack they all cuddle up to Xavier to calm him cause damn he needed it after that 🤣 He had fun tho, don't worry!

Edit: Not my forgetting Xavier’s glove that is integral to his design! Ooof it’s okay it was an easy fix

(My art don't repost but please reblog)

#thanks for the ask!#answered asks #my art #my artwork #tickling #tickle art #tickle #tickles #my art stuff #tickle comic #ticklish!xavier #lee!xavier #ler!pixies #hogwarts mystery tickles

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ffsg0jo · 2 years

Text

[23:11] - SAKUSA KIYOOMI -- masterlist

sakusa doesn't think he's ever seen such beauty before, in all the years of him being alive, not once. he bashfully takes a peek at you, cheeks heating up and eyes glittering in awe. the way your hijab has been so elegantly and perfectly wrapped around your head, the colour suiting your skin tone perfectly. sakusa bites back a giggle as he revels in the way he can look at you once, twice and even thrice more. savouring every glance he can, before you catch on to him.

he debates on moving closer to you, pressing his thigh against yours, pulling your mendhi covered palm into his to hold onto forever, however long forever may last. he wants to hold your face ever so gently in his hands, the whole world in his palms, impossibly close to his own. he wants to feel your soft breath mingle with his moments before he presses his lips against yours.

he never thought he’d want to be this close to anyone, but sakusa was getting restless at the thought of finally being able to hug you, to kiss your cheek, of you hugging back. he never thought he’d want to be touched by anyone so bad, but he figures you’re the exception.

finally, you turn to look at him, with a smile, finding him already staring at you with a blush on his face.

‘like what you see omi?’ you giggle, turning into a laugh when you see his blush intensify at the nickname you gave him and being caught. sakusa looks down in slight shame and fiddles with his fingers. you decide not to push him any further, opting to reach out for his hand instead.

you gently hold his fingers between yours and sakusa looks up, feeling the sparks jolt through him, his eyes locking with yours. another smile graces sakusa’s face. he’s never smiled this much in a day, he thinks to himself. and here you are being the cause of every single one.

sakusa grips onto your fingers tighter and pulls your hand firmly into his, lifting it up to press a kiss to the back of your hand. you feel warmth spreading from where his lips touched to the rest of your body, and now, it’s your turn, for your face to heat up and look away. for the millionth time that day, sakusa beamed, from ear to ear.

he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, his wife.

* this is a repost from my old blog with minor edits !! *

#🌻.sunspell #🌻.haikyuu #🌻.fluff #muslim reader #hijabi reader #haikyuu #hq #spirithub #tahonet #tht.sinta #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader

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apparently-artless · 8 months

Note

My tags aren't working 😭😭😭 do you have any recommendations on what to do? Ty <333

Ah, yes. The never-ending problem with tags. Here are a few tips I can suggest that helped me before:

IF ALL YOUR POSTS ARE IMPACTED

it might just be Tumblr being Tumblr so try to wait a few hours or so

if it's more than a day already and the issue still persists, you might want to contact Tumblr support, especially if not all users are encountering the same problem [I encountered this before, and support fixed something at their end]

IF ONLY SPECIFIC POSTS ARE IMPACTED

check your tags and try to remove tags with special characters if there are any

try to repost instead [just literally did this on my latest post, same tags and all, and now it's working]

try to include the transparent image below on your post (at the beginning or at the end of your post), for some reason, I couldn't find the actual link that explains why this works but it worked for me before

if the tags are still not working, especially if your post consists of multiple images or GIFs, this is the most tedious but let's hope you will not have to rely on this: you have to check the images/GIFs individually and identify which ones are causing the issue. Once you identified the file causing the issue, try to edit it and maybe do a test post to check if the tags are working now

For the last suggestion, I would make a test post, then post the images one by one. If the post stopped showing through tag search, then that means the last image you added is the one causing the issue. It might be more than one, so continue this step until you checked all images that are to be included in your post. Once you identified the file/s, try to edit those files again. In my case, I edited it by adding some subtle changes in brightness and contrast.

I'm trying to reach out to Tumblr support again hoping they could provide some tips or guidelines to possibly avoid this issue because it's very inconvenient to be checking and editing images individually just so the tags will work. What I've observed though is it's got nothing to do with the file size. I have GIFs on that post that have larger file sizes but are not causing problems. I won't get my hopes up though when it comes to Tumblr support's response. I'll try to observe this issue on my end and possibly update this post once I identified the common denominator for those GIFs.

Anywho, hope this helps! And I apologize if my explanation is lengthy and my English is bad. (￣▽￣*)ゞ

#reply #art answers #anon #tags not working #tumblr bugs #artless

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creaturebrood · 1 year

Text

a pretty good excuse (1/2)

sypnosis - You find your heavily-pregnant ex boyfriend on a tram-bus while on your way to your cousin's place for a party you don't want to go to. feat - Javier (OC, he/him)

contents - trans mpreg, labor pains & eventual birth, implied past assault/abuse, 2nd person POV, queer reader word count - 2842 words, goddamn

(if you think you've seen this before you're right - i initially posted this a day or so ago but tumblr nuked it so i'm reposting without the inline link.) (edit: it worked. i'll link my oc rentry some other way)

You were on your way to your family home for the holidays - one of your cousins always insisted on throwing this huge party feast thing to bring the family together for festivities. It was never anything you really wanted to go to, for "queer person having to visit their overwhelmingly cishet family" reasons, but your parents always insisted, not wanting you to drop off the face of the earth since you'd moved out a couple years back. None of them were openly bigoted, but it was clear none of them could relate to your struggles, and you were always outcast from the intricate social circles they naturally fell into. Unfortunately, their lack of obvious distaste meant you felt like you always had to come up with a good excuse not to visit them, and, well, you were already waiting for transport, so that window was closing fast.

A cool breeze, signifying the arrival of the tram-bus to the station, blew through your hair as the vehicle slowed to a stop. The doors slid open, you threw your bag back over your shoulder and stepped inside, and as you'd expected, the front of the tram was pretty full. Busier than usual with the bustle of holiday travel, of course, but it was just as likely some were still just commuting to work. You make your way towards the back, which was always a bit less populated… you're not thrilled by what you see. An ex-boyfriend, heavily pregnant, is in the far corner of the very last row of seats. He - Javier - was clearly trying to hide himself away, on top of being obviously very uncomfortable. You still catch one another's eye - he seems about as miserable to be sharing this ride with you as you are him. Hurriedly, you avert your gaze, and sit yourself down in the second-to-last row seat on the side furthest from him. The empty gap of space between your seats does not feel like enough distance in the slightest, and you quickly realize you cannot get the sight of him out of your mind. You'd known he was pregnant, it was even the source of the breakup, but this was the first time in months that you'd seen him, and his figure seemed almost grotesque compared to the other pregnancies you'd witnessed. Desperate for a distraction, you take your phone out of your pocket, shoving in your earbuds as the tram jolts and starts moving. You swear you can hear a groan coming from his direction before your music begins.

You manage to mostly ignore him for almost an hour, but eventually, the questions piled up. Whether his figure had been exaggerated in your head or not, what exactly he was even doing while you were trying so hard to ignore him being there. Whether he was thinking about you like you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about him. His belly was still burnt into your head, massive and heavy. You had to see it again, just to confirm - you tilt your phone onto its side, open the camera app, and switch to the front-facing view before angling it just enough to let you see him in the corner. He was almost… Worse than your brief initial glance, as bunched up as he could manage and clinging to the horizontal seat in front of him for dear life.

It was, honestly, hard to look at. Looking away was harder, though, and your mind fixated on him, squinting at your phone's screen to try and make sense of what you were seeing. As the tram came to another stop, you found he was trembling, too, rather than the shakiness you'd just assumed was caused by the natural bumps of the ride. It began to sink in that you might have to actually do something about this. More questions begin to swim in your head - why was he alone here, anyway? Maybe you weren't the only one he cheated on, you thought bitterly. How long had it been? A few seasons had passed, at least.

The timeline you recalled put another thought in your head. You were sure it'd been well over nine months.

God damn it, he was probably in labor. Irritated, you roughly stuff your phone back in your pocket. This wasn't your responsibility. You didn't have to interact with it at all - but you couldn't just ignore it, either. That'd be even worse, surely? He was a lucky motherfucker for you to be the one who found him, the city was dangerous for people who were vulnerable. Reluctantly, you shift towards the aisle, then stand, grasping one of the support bars to keep yourself up as the tram once more jolts into movement - you're not the only one, you see Javier's body tense and curl in on itself in time with the vehicle you're in. You can hear his breathing as you approach - ragged and sharp, his exhales lined with tiny, hushed whines - and no matter how much you'd demonized the man in your head since the breakup, you couldn't deny that seeing him like this was sort of getting to you.

There was no way you were going to show that, though. Not after what he'd done. Your voice is gruff, accusative when you speak to him, intent on getting some kind of answer before you were willing to help.

"Where's the daddy?" You ask. "Shouldn't they be here for this?" Your ex barely reacts, aside from pressing himself tighter into the corner, which was apparently possible. The fingers on his free hand - the one not clenching the seat in front of him - are pressed tightly into the fabric concealing his overburdened belly.

You force your eyes away from it, trying again to get his attention. Frustration was already rising in you, joining the bundle of other negativity you held about your fractured relationship.

"Hey. Where is. Your partner?" The impatience in your voice was obvious, now. Finally, you got a response. Javier meets your glare with his own, sharp and defensive. He looks utterly trapped. "Go. Go away," he forces out, in between ragged breaths. You feel your anger shift - but your stubbornness forces your annoyance back to the forefront. "Believe it or not, I actually want to help you," you snapped, your voice raised, but not enough to alert the other passengers. You weren't expecting Javier to flinch the way he did. It wasn't really like him - the standoffish-ness was, sure, but you'd never really seen him cower before. Blinking, you take a step back, re-center yourself, and after a moment, you quietly sit down beside him, taking off your shoulder-bag to place it on an adjacent seat.

"Okay," you begin, "okay. I need you to talk to me. Will you talk to me?" There was nothing but a small grunt in reply, and even that took a few seconds. Fine. "Where is the other parent?" Your question, and the rest of your demeanor, shifted as you let yourself analyze his reaction - you were more concerned than accusative, now. Your ex's head remained buried into the crook of his sleeved arm, and more seconds passed, feeling long and drawn out. Again, his voice is ragged when he speaks. "Don't know. Not here." "Are you.. Still together?" It would definitely be weird to leave your laboring partner on a tram in this condition.

"N- no. Maybe. Don't know if we ever were."

Well, you're not really sure how to take that. Had you fucked up? Maybe if you'd not rushed into conclusions - you cut yourself off, realizing you were doing it again. Hesitantly, you follow up - "did you ever want to be?"

Javier gives no response, but you didn't really need one. The lack of an answer was an answer in itself - maybe rushing to conclusions this time had been accurate. Silently, your brain started to go a little haywire. You should have heard him out, but no. You hadn't, and look where it got you both.

Regardless, nothing could be done about it now. You gather your thoughts, again. "I am so sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I am so sorry." More silence. His form, which had steadied a bit since you'd sat down, was shaking again. "It's. Not your fault." "We can figure that out later," you cut in, before he can blame himself. It works, he shuts up.

Both of you are quiet now, slowly getting used to each other's company again. It can only last so long, though, before you see his abdomen constrict. Tired breaths become uneven as he holds them in, attempting to combat the pain, before eventually escaping as soft, high-pitched whimpers - this goes on for a few seconds, until his body goes lax again. His face is still hidden against his arm, but you can tell how worn down he is, tears soaking his sleeve. This whole thing is an absolute nightmare for you both, you can't stand doing nothing anymore. "Hey. Can I touch you?" You're reluctant to even ask, afraid he'll say no. For a moment, his bewilderment seems to outweigh everything else - he shifts a bit to look back at you again, and you clarify, "not like that". All you get is a noncommittal grunt before he returns to burying his face into his sleeve. "No? Yes?" Again, you get nothing.

But, while his body is stiff and tense, he doesn't flinch away as you scoot closer to him. You decide to test his boundaries - your hands encircle the one he's holding to his belly, lightly gripping it between them - you get no sign of discomfort or reluctance, but still, that's as far as you'll go for a while.

The air around you is tense, but it does eventually soften, and you take it as an invitation when his fingers finally begin to clasp around the hand beneath his. Bringing yourself even closer to his side, you lightly rub the back of his hand with your thumb - he seems to be growing more comfortable in your presence, almost managing to appear relaxed for a time before the next contraction hits.

Immediately, his body stiffens again, accompanied by a small yelp as the pain catches him off guard. You carefully attempt to guide him towards you, separating him from the seat he's clinging to and wrapping his arms around your neck instead as he struggles to force himself through. There's no attempt to fight back, and it's not long before he's pressed into you instead of the plastic seat.

Even with the contraction pain, he seems calmer - your arm wraps around him as his belly softens, and his body again relaxes. All things considered, it's a pretty comfortable position.. right now, it was almost like you and him hadn't broken up to begin with. Suddenly, though, that "relationship" had a lot more weighing on it - the delayed reaction that told you your ex was in labor forced you to also put it together that labor and pregnancy meant that there were physically babies in him that needed to come out - and that you hadn't actually been paying attention to the pains. You had zero clue what stage of labor you were seeing. Maybe Javier had a better idea?

"Hey, uhh. Have you been.. Timing contractions or anything? Do you know what stage you're in?" "…No?"

So much for that. His head lifts away from your chest, wearing an expression laced with confusion. You get the impression by how quickly he hides himself again that he's generally clueless about the whole process.

"You at least know you're in labor?" "Yeah. I mean…" A pause, like he's thinking, but it doesn't go anywhere. "No offense. Do you.. have any idea what you're doing?" "I. tried to avoid the topic." The way he says it comes off like an admission of guilt. "Maybe if I ignored it long enough it - it'd go away."

"That turned out well." "Shut up. Besides. it wasn't human. The… Father. I. Know you were there when your siblings were born. But. What good will human tactics even do here?"

You sighed, once more fishing your phone out of your pocket. "I suppose that explains some things. Do you know what we're dealing with?" "I think I remember it talking about the river. It said its culture is that of pleasure. I'm inclined to disagree-" The statement is cut off by a pained grunt, almost on cue. You activate your phone's stopwatch as his stomach distorts.

This pain seems to be worse than the last ones. His whole body grows so tense he's once more reduced to trembling, his fingertips grasping the back of your shirt tightly and his head pressed hard into your chest. Like before, his breathing becomes limited, transforming into small, shrill whimpers that come out in between long, breathless pauses. Javier's weakened body limpens before the pain lets up, but only for a few seconds - he takes a few strained breaths before stiffening again. Is he bearing down? With the amount he's straining, he must be. Why even try to time contractions if he's this deep? You turn your focus entirely to him, putting your phone back away and pulling him closer to you as you slide your hand under his shirt. Sure enough, his abdomen was nearly rock-hard.

When it finally lets up, he seems to break. "Help me," he pleads softly, you can hear his panic rising as it hits him that this is just going to get worse. "Get it out. I can't - I can't. It's too big. It's. Pressing. But not moving." Disjointed sentences devolve back into soft whimpers, you gently run your hand along his side. "I don't think.. You're dilated enough to push yet? If you're only now bearing down." He responds with a distressed whine. "How - how long? I can't -" you can hear his crying through his trembling words, now - "can't do this. It should - it shouldn't be like this. Never wanted this. It's. It's."

He seems to run out of will to speak as the tram slows again. There's still a lot of stops between here and your destination - you have absolutely no idea how much time is left until things get serious, and it's very clear you didn't have anywhere near as much time as you thought you did. On top of that, you do not like the prospect of going through any of this in public for various reasons.

"Where are you trying to go, anyway?" "…Away." "Nowhere specific?" "Just.. away." ".. Right."

You look up from him, taking in the city around you through the window. You could see.. A pet supply shop, a bunch of unmarked buildings. Your phone tells you you're about thirteen miles from your booking. The area seems.. Safe enough to stop for a moment, and the pet shop probably had one of those family restrooms.

"We're getting off here," you announce, having made your decision. Javier barely responds as you re-equip your bag, but he does react as you try and help him up - you have to catch him as he nearly falls, and he clutches your arm to steady himself as much as he can. Being upright doesn't seem to be doing him any favors, but it would be best to get to your booking sooner rather than later if you could at all.

"Why are we getting up?" He protests, a shaky arm encircling his belly. "We're getting off. There's a pet store here that still looks open. I'm gonna call a taxi to get us to the cabin I booked this weekend, but first I wanna check progress- see if there's even time." None of that seems to register except "weekend" and "cabin". "I- Mph. Tomorrow.." "… is a holiday. I know." "Oh."

You shake his shoulders lightly as the guilty look reappears in his eye, you know he knew your holiday arrangements. "Hey. It's fine, and we gotta go." "Mm." He won't budge. "Trust me when I say this, Jav. I won't miss em, and they'll only miss me superficially. Don't feel guilty for making me miss something I don't care about." He grunts, but budges a little bit - it's enough to get a move on, and you half-carry him to the door of the bus-tram, helping him down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

You take a second to get your things together before proceeding, and then promptly stop Javier from completely crumpling to the pavement as another contraction hits. It's long enough that you have to briefly sit again to wait it out, but thankfully, it doesn't otherwise seem as intense as the last one. There's a desperation in his voice when he asks if this is really okay. You tell him it is.

Besides, this serves as a pretty good excuse. (TBC)

#mpreg #mpreg birth #ftm pregnancy #tmpreg #birth kink #labor kink #🍄.doc #cb:ocjavier #cb:2ndp #cb:2.5k+#this is my first time posting an actual story pleaassee let me know if i missed anything important!

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kazumiwrites-fanfiction · 1 year

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Amnesia

REQUEST: Can you write a Sugawara X Fem Reader FanFic (angsty), in which the reader and Sugawara are dating, and something happens, like an accident, and he ends up losing his memory. So Y/N tries to help him get back his memory by visiting him every day and telling him about all the things they did together. One day, Suga does regain his memory… But it's right before he dies. It's just a rough idea but I hope you can do something!! ^^3~ -ceil <3

SUMMARY: Sugawara got into a car crash, and you, as his significant other, need to be there for him; however, he doesn't have his memory. What're you going to do when he doesn't remember anything? WORD COUNT: 1.1k

WARNINGS: Character death, hurt, angst in general, amnesia. (Not really fem reader)

A/N: When you spend class hours just looking through sites about amnesia and causes so this could be somewhat medically accurate but in a vague way- ahaha- totally not me (guilty) And I totally don't have a bunch of research on my school computer about whether or not amnesia causes death- uhm- why would you think that- Also, yes I did give him a nickname, 'Kou,' because that's cute (also because 'Kou-chan' would be cute to say, although I didn't write it in lmao-)

A/N PART 2: Also- if you were curious, part of a song inspired this (it's in Spanish though so uh-) 'Amnesia' by Señor Wooly.

A/N PART 3: Originally posted here.

You didn't expect this to happen. Of course, why would you? It was unprecedented. How was it possible that he'd get into a traffic accIt? Why would he get hurt in something like this?

You heard all the details afterward… And you weren't sure what to think. He was such a good driver… Why did it have to happen to him? He had done nothing. He was just stopped at a red light when a driver hurtled in to his car. At least Kou didn't die… But still. He lost his memories.

When you asked the doctor about how long the amnesia would last, the doctor only shook his head. He didn't know. "Retrograde amnesia," he called it. It meant that he didn't remember anything from before the… Accident.

You sighed softly as you gently rubbed his hand, forcing yourself to smile as you looked into his beautiful brown eyes. "Well, I remember the first date we had, it was really fun. You took me to the park, and I remember we watched some birds a bit. It was amazing…" You smiled a little more, eyes softening as you remembered the day.

It was a bright and sunny day, a perfect day for a date, in your opinion. When you got a bit chilly, Kou wrapped his arms around you and gave you his jacket, as well, despite protests that he'd get sick later. Which, he did get sick… You took care of him after that.

Still�� It almost hurt to have him right there, and not be able to remember anything. The doctors had warned you that telling him about his life wouldn't help, but neither you nor his family would stop it, hoping that he'd eventually get all of his memory back.

You listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor as you watched over him, letting out a soft yawn. You really were tired…

You soon drifted off. You had been staying awake for long bouts of time, after all; of course you'd fall asleep. You had forgotten to take care of yourself, unless Koushi gently told you to get some rest or eat or something.

Koushi just watched you quietly, smiling a little. This person… You were really sweet. To care for him this much… It was all he ever wanted. He watched you, then sighed softly. Still, why did you care for him so much…? He wasn't sure. Why couldn't you just move on?

He let out a soft sigh, gently brushing a hand over your hair, smoothing it. He hated that you were still waiting for him… Family, he could get. But what did you have to keep you attached? You could start dating some other guy who would love you for who you were; not him, who barely even knew you anymore. What was the point, really?

He frowned softly as he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off as well.

When Koushi woke up, he felt… Different. What was it? His head hurt… But that was okay. He thought it was, at least. He blinked slightly as he saw you, you… And all the memories came back. He held his head a little, biting back a small noise.

You stirred slightly, then eyes widened as you saw his state, moving closer and wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. "Shh…" You murmured softly, comfortingly, as you called to a nurse for help.

The nurse quickly came in, starting to check him up and moving you away from him. "I-" You got out, eyes wide. You didn't want to leave his side at all.

Koushi watched you, biting his lip. Would this be too cruel to say…? But he had to say it. "I- I remember, [Y/N], I remember everything…!" Those were his last words, his last effort to say anything before he lost consciousness. He looked so peaceful, though… Now that he had reassured you that he remembered.

You hated it, however. What was going on? What- why did he pass out? Was this normal, for a person with amnesia? Before you knew it, doctors were rushing him to another room… Maybe the emergency room? You weren't sure. With shaky hands, you called his mother; it was honestly surprising that she understood you, since you were blubbering and you almost dropped your phone a few times, but she got the message.

After that was done, all you could do was wait… You felt Koushi's mother come in, she was almost a parent to you. You leaned in to her touch as she wrapped an arm around you, rubbing your shoulder gently as you both waited for the news.

After around… An hour? You weren't sure, you hadn't been keeping track. Anyway, the doctor came in, knocking on the doorframe a little before stepping in. You heard the small gasp before a choked sob escaped the woman beside you, but you just stared up at the doctor, at his shaking head, not understanding. His words about a "brain hematoma" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Sugawara Koushi is dead," as well as head shaking, didn't register in your brain until a couple seconds later.

Your eyes were wide, before you started sobbing, small choked noises escaping you as you clung to his mother, both of you hugging each other tightly. Why… He had just remembered, so why did he have to die…? Maybe the doctor had got the wrong room? No, he called Kou by his name… You hadn't even been able to say one last "I love you." What was this world you lived in… Where people could die, just like that? You sighed shakily, sniffling as you pulled away from Koushi's mother, rubbing your eyes a little to try to calm yourself down. He wouldn't want you to be like this… You knew that. But, still… You weren't sure how you could live through this.

A couple years later.

You sighed softly as you walked to Koushi's grave, holding the black roses in your hands. You moved to rest the flowers on his grave, crouching down and resting your hand on his headstone and rubbing it gently. "I really do miss you… But life moves on." You glanced back at the car waiting outside the graveyard, eyes softening a little as you did so before looking back at the headstone.

"I hope you've moved on as well… Especially so that you don't become lonely. I don't want you to be like that…" You paused slightly. "I hope we can talk when we can see each other again." You smiled a little more, rubbing the headstone a bit more before letting go, walking out of the graveyard, glancing up to look at the sky. You really did hope he was happy… You hoped he was happy that you were moving on, as well. You let out a soft sigh, starting to walk faster as you went to the car.

(Links that I used for this: Brain&Life and Warren and Simpson)

#kazumiwrites #sugawara koushi #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #sugawara x gender-neutral reader #character death #angst #sad #no fluff #death #sugawara x fem reader

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