#Any reader

[alienseasfanfics]

Hurt and Comfort (One-shot)

Check out my Bucky Barnes x f!traumatized!reader fic here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x any!reader Overall Summary: After a rough mission leaves you banged up, you and Bucky have to hide out in an abandoned apartment.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy, little bit of angst.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Octopi, bodily injury that's kind of described (but Bucky fixes you up), mentions of other near-death instances.

A/N: This was inspired by a headcanon by @z-aeln: "I think that whenever Bucky has to share a bed (be it with a friend, a lover or even a cat), he takes off his arm before going to sleep, just to make sure he won't hurt anyone by mistake." I found it so heartbreaking, so here's something fluffy. A sidenote that I'm always looking for requests/headcanons! Enjoy.

Bucky shoves the door open. Pieces of plaster crumble on your head as you limp inside, shoulder grazing the warped frame. He follows you, closing the door and picking up a splintered wardrobe from the corner of the room, blocking the doorway with it. You hug the wall as you go to the back of the abandoned apartment, trying doors until you find the old, yellowed bathroom. Dragging your bleeding leg behind you, you clamber in, sitting on the toilet with a hiss.

Like a ghost, Bucky follows you, leaning against the door frame as you try and catch your breath.

“I told you not to go in.” He says, and you roll your eyes, stretching your injured leg out in front of you.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know they have an electrified octopus as a guard dog?” The thing was an affront to the universe. One swipe of a tentacle and you received a five-inch gash in your calf, the surrounding skin pockmarked with raw burns from electric suckers. The feeling of your pant leg brushing against them makes you clench your teeth in pain.

“Let me see it.” Bucky mutters, stepping into the bathroom.

“Just give me the medipack.” You extend your hand out but he brushes it away, crouching in front of you on one knee.

“This is going to hurt, and I’m not going to let you pass out alone in a bathroom.” He mutters, taking one of his knives out and slowly starting to cut away the cloth surrounding the wound.

“Oh, how sweet of you.” You say through clenched teeth, the methodical peeling of the fabric feeling like he’s pulling away skin.

“That’s what everybody calls me. Sweetie Bucky Barnes.” He quips dryly, and you let out a light chuckle before wincing again as he grazes a thumb on your newly uncovered cut.

“Watch it doc.” You say, but he ignores you, instead throwing you the medipack and pulling your leg on top of his bent knee.

“Give me the wipes.” He says.

Your breath hissing through your teeth, you do as you’re told, giving him the sanitizing wipes with stuttering hesitation. You know it’s going to hurt, and your body has had enough hurt for today.

He wipes away sticky blood and the burnt cloth remnants that stick to your wounds, and you close your eyes in an effort to hide away from the sensation.

“Burn aid.” He says, and you open your eyes to see him looking up at you, one palm outstretched. Dirt and soot cling to his skin, a bruise forming on his temple and a cut barely bleeding on his lip. A sight you’ve seen a lot before, but rarely with concern knitting his brow. You almost reach up to rub it away, but you hold your hand back.

“Is it bad?” You say breathlessly, and his mouth pinches into a tight line.

“It will be if you don’t give me the burn aid.” He says, and you dig in the pack, tossing him the tube. He catches it with one hand, holding your foot still with the other as he flips it open and readies it above one burn.

“Don’t thrash.” He says before he drops liquid ointment on, and you gasp as if it’s burning you all over again. Reaching out, you grab onto his metal shoulder, digging your fingers into the meld between flesh and machine as you groan. He shuffles slightly closer to you, giving you a better grip.

“Sorry. They’re acid burns. I have to stop the spread.” He says through your moans of pain.

“I’m going to make that damn octopus into takoyaki.” You hiss, and he chuckles as he continues.

“I’ve never seen you cook a damn thing.” He says. You flick his ear and he glares at you.

“Take me on a mission where we end up with a working kitchen, then. The past five places we’ve had to stay in have been basically a hole in the ground. You’ve had to sleep on the ground in three of them.”

“If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be going on missions at all.” He says, and you scoff.

“And what is that supposed to mean? Are you doubting my abilities now? It was one octopus. Which, might I add, I almost killed before you dragged me away.”

“I dragged you away because an 8-foot tentacle latched itself onto your leg and shocked you so bad I saw smoke coming from your skin.” He mutters, turning your calf around to find the rest of the tiny burns that litter your skin.

“Yeah, I got hurt. That’s what happens when you’re on mission.”

“No. You’re not supposed to get hurt. Mission or not.”

“Well, neither are you, but you still come with me every time.”

His eyes flick up to yours, and your breath hitches.

“You’re not supposed to get hurt. I’m there to keep you from being hurt. Whatever happens to me during the course of that, happens. Needle.” He looks back down at your leg, tossing the empty burn aid ointment behind his shoulder and extending a palm towards you again.

You exhale sharply.

“You treat me like I’m a civilian. I’ve fought, you know. Wherever they sent me, I fought. I’m not weak just because I have less experience than you.” You take out the needle and thread pack, slapping them down in his hand. He glances up at you again.

“I never said you were weak.”

You stop talking as soon as he makes the first stitch, your thoughts blinded by pain. You don’t realize you’re white-knuckling his shoulder until he pats your arm with his metal hand.

“Done. How you feeling?” He asks, looking into your face as you look at him blearily. “Because you look like shit.”

“Aw gee, thanks Sweetie Barnes. You really know how to make a gal feel better.” You put on the hokey accent that usually makes him roll his eyes, but he doesn’t now. Concern still knits his forehead as grabs the gauze out of the medipack on your lap, quickly wrapping it tightly around your leg. Your eyes flutter closed again, and he snaps his metal fingers in your face. You open your eyes, annoyed.

“Watch it.” You hiss.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll do what I want.”

He tightens the bandages in response, and you curse at him. He smirks.

“Right back at you. Get up.” He takes the medipack off your lap and lets your leg down gently, standing next to you. He leans down, putting his metal arm around your ribs and hoisting you up, his other hand on your waist as you throw your arm over his shoulders.

Together, you limp over to the only bed in the place, an old mattress in the main room in front of a large, dirty window. He leans you against a wall and throws one of your two blankets over its dirty surface, coming back to you to lead you to it.

“Easy.” He mutters as he lowers you gently onto it. You fall back as you land, stretching out your leg and hazily looking up at the ceiling.

The sunset from outside throws diffuse pink and yellow light on the dingy apartment walls, covering the moldy plaster with a heavenly hue. You blink slowly, exhausted, pain radiating from your leg. The world seems to stand still as you look over to him again.

The same light halos Bucky, now looking down at you from beside the mattress, arms crossed. You smile lazily up at him.

“Howdy.” You say.

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothin’. You look pretty.”

“You’ve lost too much blood.”

“I’m saying the truth!”

“You’re obviously losing it.”

“You don’t think you’re pretty?”

“I’m not the pretty one in the room.”

His cheeks blush a dusty pink as you blink up at him, taken aback even in this dizzy state. He looks away from you, walking away quickly.

“I thought I looked like shit?” You say after him.

“Yeah. You do. Drink this.” He comes back in your vision, crouching down and putting a pouch in your hand. You make a face, knowing what it is instinctively.

“Is it strawberry?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Of course.”

“It’s the only one that tastes remotely good.”

“I know. Just drink it.”

You sigh as you bring the chalky protein pouch to your mouth, trying to swallow it as fast as you can.

“With all this Stark and government money, you’d think they’d make it taste better.” You choke out, which nets you a chuckle from Bucky. Your heart flutters.

“I guess life-saving EPO smoothie pouches are difficult to make taste good. Are you done?” He holds a hand out for the crumpled pouch. He throws it over his shoulder as soon as you give it to him.

“Littering is bad, you know.” You say.

“I’m a bad guy.”

“No, you’re not.” You furrow your brow and match his silent gaze. His cold blue eyes stay bright in the darkening room, and you’re not sure if its the soft look he’s giving you or the blood loss that makes you feel weightless.

“You should sleep.” He says quietly.

“Finally.” You yawn, breaking eye contact first as you roll away from him, laying on your non-injured side on one half of the mattress. A moment later, a blanket is thrown over you, and you quickly tuck it under your chin, trying to get warmer.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You yawn, and you hear his grunt of affirmation from across the room. You lean up on an elbow to see him sitting against the wall yards away from you, one knee bent up and his metal arm laying on it. At your movement, he looks over at you.

“Yes?” He says, and you pull the blanket back to leave an opening.

“I’m cold.” You say.

“What?”

“And you can’t sleep against the wall.”

“Yes I can.”

Your thoughts whirl out before you can stop any of them.

“You shouldn’t sleep against the wall. You’re old. Maybe you’ll get stuck there. Your knees locking up. Then what’ll happen? Neither of us can get up? We die, starving in this shitty apartment? You want that?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m cold. Please.” You say, quietly. His jaw clenches.

It must be the blood loss that’s letting you plead with him. Usually these raw, aching feelings are ones that you keep to yourself. His silent, watching eye always having to be blanket enough.

But now, the cold is to your bones. And in this open-air apartment, he must be cold too. He watches you, shadows now hiding the expression on his face.

“I’m not old.” He grunts as he gets up. You smile until he reaches a deft finger behind his metal shoulder, pressing an invisible button. His arm pops off with a hiss into his hand.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He looks over at you.

“Taking off my arm. What are you doing?”

“Questioning why you feel the need to do that.” It looks uncanny, him standing there with the limp and lifeless part of him in his hand.

“If I’m getting in bed with you, I have to take off the arm.” He says, slowly.

“Who says that?”

“Me.”

“Well, you’re being stupid.”

“What?”

“What’s the point of taking off your arm?”

“Do you know what I’ve done with this arm?” He shakes it a little in your direction, hand stiff.

“You mean years ago?”

“I beat three men into a pulp with it today.”

“Yeah, after their walking seafood platter tried frying me into oblivion.” You scoff.

He scowls, a beam of moonlight shining across his face and down onto the arm. You lay back down, looking at him as he thinks. He always thinks so deeply, his jaw clenched. You often think about how it would feel to rub the tension out of his expression, running your fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders. Being able to touch him without pretense.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He mutters after minutes of silence. Your heart flutters again as your confusion grows.

“What do you mean, hurt me? You’re not going to hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice is so soft, it stabs your heart. You sit back up.

“Bucky-”

“I hurt people. That’s what I was made for, and that’s what I do. Whether I want to or not. This arm has-” He cuts himself off, his voice dying in his throat as he clenches his jaw again. “I’m a weapon. And I don’t want to be used against you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, broken when you chuckle and shake your head. He snaps up to look at you.

“You don’t get it, Barnes.” You say.

“And what don’t I get?”

“I trust you.”

“What?”

“Intrinsically. To my core. I trust you. I know you’re not going to hurt me.”

“You can’t know something that I don’t know myself.”

“Bucky, you just stitched up my leg with that arm.”

“That’s what you do if your partner is hurt.”

“You pulled me out of that flaming car in Beirut a month ago, with that arm.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t speed into the wall.”

“Minor mishap. You pulled that drowning woman out of the sea in Miami. Stopped that runaway train in Bucharest. You even saved that cat in Sheffield, like an honest-to-god superhero. All with that arm.”

He stays silent, looking at you from across the room.

“You’re not a weapon. You’re a person forced into a position that you’ve broken out of. You use your arm as a tool for your own goals, which since I’ve known you, have never been anything except rooted in the care and protection of others.” You say, and he still doesn’t say a word.

“Bucky, I’m not scared of you. I would never be scared of a hero.”

Bucky stands photo-still across the room. Your heart inexplicably beats faster as you grow more tired.

Restlessly, you drop your head back onto the bundle of clothing that acts as your pillow, and pat the empty space behind you as you look at his silhouette.

He slowly clips his arm back on, shrugging his shoulder, and hesitantly walks over to the mattress. It sinks as he sits down on it, taking off his boots with precision. You close your eyes.

Already, you feel warmer.

He lays on his back next to you, his own jacket bundled up under his head, and your skin rejoices at the light touch of his warm arm on your spine as he settles in.

“Better?” He says quietly, and you flush at the feeling of him so close.

“Still cold.” You say, half into the blanket bunched near your face. After a moments hesitation, you hold your palm up to him. “Arm, please.”

“I thought you didn’t want it off.” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“Cuddle me, idiot.”

“What did I just say about hurting you?”

“You’re not going to hurt me. Unless you let me freeze to death.” You chatter your teeth. His eye roll was practically audible. It takes a moment until he brushes your hand aside, turning to press his chest against your back and putting his warm arm curled under his head. He slides his metal one over your waist.

He keeps it there, delicate and uncertain, and you’re hesitant yourself as you reach down to it, pulling it up your body and laying it against your chest. Hugging his forearm, his hand twitches as you kiss his palm gently.

Bucky stiffens behind you, a sharp intake of breath making a small bit of panic flash in your brain, but he doesn’t pull away.

After a moment, he pulls you closer, nestling you into the curve of his body. You drift off to sleep, the ghost of his lips burning a kiss in the delicate skin behind your ear.

----------

Idk if my pinglist wants to be pinged for regular Bucky things. Let me know if you're down for a general Bucky ping, or just for Friction :)

[sur-i-ki]

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥?

𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

He won’t lie, he likes you clingy. However, you hadn’t been spending much time with him. Megumi knew that you would be free today. So a scary movie it was. He needed an excuse.

He had called you over and had the movie playing. Your hands were gripping his, knuckles white, and you had them pulled in front of your face. He smiled a little when he realized you were still peeking through them.

“You scared?”

He was being a little mean. He knows you know, as if the quick glare you sent him didn’t speak volumes. Freeing his hands from your death grip, he throws one arm around you. Within a second, your hands were gripping his again, and he couldn’t help but laugh right against your ear, breathy and deep.

When he feels you shiver against him, Megumi has a feeling that the jump-scare on the screen wasn’t the reason.

A few moments pass, and his head is propped up against the wall. During the dialogue scene, you glance over at him.

“Aren’t you scared?”

His eyes slid over to meet your’s. “Hm?”

You huff a little in frustration at his face. “You have no expression on your face. I’m feeling a little silly over here.”

Megumi pulls you closer to him, and your dogs bound onto the bed. Scratching them behind their ears, you continue, “They have more feeling on their face than you.”

Megumi listens quietly, snuggling his face against your neck. The movie continues, and during the next jump-scare, he kisses your neck from behind, effectively distracting you.

Your pulse thunders right against his lips as he feels you tighten your hands around his. As the movie ends, he rubs your shoulders, massaging the tension and fear away slowly.

Once you’ve relaxed against him, he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders. He doesn’t notice you and the dogs getting ready to pounce him.

“Rah!” You turn in his arms, throwing your weight against him as the dogs tackle him from the sides. He laughs, falling, as all three of you pepper his face with kisses.

After calming down, he opens his eyes and looks at you. Your hands are holding his face, and he knows there’s a flush in his cheeks as your thumbs graze it.

“There we go. Much better.”

Pulling you to lay down on him, he sighs. With you hugging him tightly, he knows you’re gonna spend the night because you’re scared. You’re clingy.

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[justcallmebc]

Just a little while longer.

Summery: What happens when suddenly your supposed friend, who is very unbothered and lazy, calls you over to his house? well lets see shall we? ♡ Warnings: Kinda fast Pace and Awkward, bad grammar, and slight fluff in the end.

A/n: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE AESTHETIC :c , Anyways I was bored so I'm trying to write again hehe. Don't expect it to be good (Maybe I should put this as a warning?).

Edit A/n: I AM SO SORRY THAT I FORGOT TO MENTION ABOUT SPOILERS 🙏🏾. THIS HAS MANGA SPOILERS.

Walking felt nice every once in a while. You liked the way your thoughts arranged themselves when your legs did the moving. Streets became quieter. The air wrapped gently around your limbs like an old friend.

Walking felt nice but right now you were a little anxious. Why? well because someone called you over. Someone you didn't expect to call. Not because you were enemies or anything. No dramatic falling-outs, no bitter misunderstandings. The truth was you and Nagi Seishirou had just never been close.

Its just that you both didn't talk much, and the person who was responsible for being the bridge was missing... or more like busy. Busy chasing his ambition.

Turning your phone on again, you did a re-check on the small conversation you had with Nagi. nothing much, just a simple 'hey, are you busy?' and 'come over.' You doubt it was a request.

The thing with you and Nagi was, you both were unknown to each other. Never talked once even though being in the same class, until Reo Mikage introduced him to you one day. You and Reo were really good friends. It is expectable due to Reo's status both in and off school premises.

It all began with you having a small doubt in Math. Now, both of you shared any sorts of knowledge in interest. Of course Reo was always surrounded by others as well, luckily he considered you as a good friend. Which is why he would spare sometime for you.

You had been a great supporter to Reo for his dream of soccer. Though you have also heard many people talk behind his back about how he shouldn't waste his life on something as mere as soccer. You couldn't careless, you were just happy that Reo finally found something of his interest. Which is why you were the first person he told his dream to.

You still remember how Reo Introduced Nagi, even though you already knew him,- chest puffed with pride, arm flung around Nagi’s slouched shoulders, declaring "We're gonna win the World Cup together." Nagi didn't talk much other than a lazy 'Hi', ah yes the lazy genius. You always wondered how this boy scored so much in exams while not paying attention at all. Lucky bastard (friendly). You were there while they practiced or more like paying a visit during breaks or after school. You had a goal to achieve too so can't just follow them around. Their goal and your goal was different, and you wanted to achive yours- not willing to be the supportive side character who follows around some protagonist's with the hopes of getting recognized by them, never wanting to be the side character to someone else's story.

A long time had passed since you saw either of the boys. Ever since Reo told you that they got accepted in 'Blue Lock'. You had your questions about the organization but didn't waver too much, giving your congrats and a promise to see each other in a better position if they ever meet after years. Gradually the time passed, you were content with your life and few friends to converse with. That was until you met Nagi again, about 2 days ago. You approached him after all the classmates congratulated him or just shamelessly asking for Reo and being unbothered about him. Typical conversation for a loner with a popular person. What shocked you was Nagi's reply to one of the classmate.

You didn't pry further, simply greeting him and congratulated him for his play. For some reason, you knew you shouldn't ask about his football experience.

You were close to his apartment, which was in fact the student dorms of Hakuho Academy. It's not like you've been there before but looking back to when Reo described it being as sparse as a prison cell or his closet... of course who are you kidding it even might be. You also remember distinctly Reo mentioning about Nagi living alone. When you further inquired Nagi on it, he simply said 'Yes' and that his parents having a Laissez-Faire lifestyle so they left him be. You can't say for sure if you were able to hide your discontent with the statement.

The reason you felt so anxious was because you remember vividly about yesterday evening. When you decided to ask soft, more tame questions about his soccer experience and walk home with nagi. You recall, seeing his slouched form on the table through the glass. You remember hearing very faint sniffles and seeing his shoulder tremble. You walked alone that evening.

And now, you're walking straight to his apartment. Damn it, if it was anything you were bad at it was finding comforting words. You don't know how to comfort people other than listening.

"... Fucking hell..."

You never thought standing in front of someone's door would make you question your life choices but here we are. Feeling this weird pit in your stomach for a while you decided to grab some snacks for both of you on your way here. Nothing fancy just 2 drinks and something to munch on... okay, maybe you bought your favorite snacks, but hey in your defense it's not like you knew what type of snacks Nagi like because most of the time he would consider eating as a 'hassle'.

After contemplating for a while, you finally gave in and rung the bell. It was in a matter of minutes that he opened the door, as if he was waiting for you.

"Hey, Nagi" you said casually to mask your anxiousness. Nagi greeted you back, his eyes flickering to the snack bag for a brief second before turning around and letting you in. You pretended to be unaware of his stare. Has he even eaten anything? Nagi urge you to sit down on his bed, after your refusal, while he moved in further.

You looked around the apartment which seemed small for even someone as tall as him. Huh maybe it really might be the size of Reo's Closet. Sitting down on the bed you handed Nagi the snack bag.

"grabbed some on the way here" you tried sounding casual with a small smile. Nagi didn't question and took the bag, making his way to the kitchen for serving them.

"Soo.. what's with the sudden invitation" you hoped your desperation for leaving wasn't noticeable. You didn't know how to talk or what to talk with this guy. You barely knew shit he likes. "oh, yea Reo gave me one of your book for reference saying that I directly hand it to you" Nagi spoke, sounding a little tired though you noticed there was an edge to his voice. Of what though? You can't decipher.

"My.. book? Wait which one?" Reo gave him your book? Since when did this genius need help?

"Yea, literature, I was absent due to cold. Remember?"

"oh, yea.." Hardly, it's saddening how easy it is to not notice him around. Nagi returned with the snacks and placed them on the bed while the drinks on the floor near the bed.

"I thought I'll return it to you today" so he didn't remove it? "I was about to remove it but I fell asleep" of course..

"Take your time I'm not in a hurry as of now" you stated, now feeling a bit more relaxed then when you were standing out. Nagi contemplated.

"Nagi, how about you eat first, and then take your time searching for it" you suggested. He scratched the back of his neck before sighing and sitting down opposite of you, with the snacks in between, and started eating. You didn't stop yourself either.

As you savoured the snack in your hands, out of curiosity, you looked around the appartment. Nothing too much or too little. Just cozy enough for one person. Huh, doesn't seem so bad after all. Actually how the hell he cooks? Does he even know how to cook?

You glanced at him. He was staring out the window. You can't help but notice those red bags under his eyes. Was he crying again? Your throat was itching for asking questions. Shit, you're used to throwing questions at Reo, even when Nagi was around but now you didn't know if it's even ok for you to do so with the topics in your mind. Be tame, you thought, maybe not ask at all, you can't decide. You closed your eyes and chewed in the last bits, your eyes slightly burning behind your eyelids due to staring too much onto the side. Picking up another piece you suddenly blurted out-

"So, how did soccer go?"

Silence. There was a lot of silence.

".. It was ok"

...

"You're gonna continue playing?"

"No"

Okay, that was direct... You thought while munching on the snack.

There was even longer silence than before until you asked.

"You alright?" quite bluntly, and not in a tender manner either. Fuck it, you hate this awkward silence.

".. Yea?"

"why do you sound confused then,"

"Im n-"

"Its over Nagi, I saw it"

Silence once again.

"wha-" "I saw the match"

Were you rude? probably. Did you care? yes, about Nagi of course. Because now that you fully look at him, he is in shambles. Messy hair, messy cloths and looks like he hadn't eaten until you arrived.

"I know its over" he mumbled, "Then let it go" You replied audibly.

"I did" he got smaller, "You liar" and you still looked at him.

"Shut up" and even more smaller. "I will, if you tell me" but you held him, held him without touching him.

"There is nothing to tell",

"then what about Reo"

"what about Reo?" now he looked at you and your eyes was all he needed to know. They were strictly observing yet so calmly holding him.

"Abou-" though before you could further question, he slouched down and-

"I miss soccer" And you kept quiet " I miss having that fun, that excitement" he continued, "Chasing everyone" then mumbling "Playing along side Reo" and then it got more quieter as he talked about the thrill of playing when suddenly slight sniffles were heard in this echoing silence "I.. Can't go back anymore... I have become so damn Miserable.."

You must be a sadist because you've made someone cry whom you never thought would cry. And now you felt even more guilty for thinking that because of course Nagi could cry, he is a human too. shit. Unable to think of anything you placed your hand on his head.

"You did good" you said while ruffling his hair in a gentle manner, "Be proud that it ever happened" Ew ew, cliché movie line, fuck now you wanted to cry out of embarrassment. You tilted his head up and wipe off his tears with your thumb. Even though he wasn't crying much, there still were stray tears flowing. you swear you felt him put his head weight on your hands.

"I.. can't say much due to my lack of knowledge on what or how you fully feel, but I won't push you Nagi. I'm still here" You emphasized the last words, putting weight on them for him to hear in his clouded mind. "I know I can't do much, but I'm still here." You retreated your hands.

You didn't continue and Nagi stayed silent as well. You were thinking of ways to comfort him, to find the right words.

"Thank you" he suddenly blurted out. You paused, quite literally. He didn't continue. DAMN IT, now you feel even more lost for words. He shouldn't thank you, god, you barely used to notice him.. and yet..

"Do you, want to talk about it?"

"No" oh ok awkward, you thought. When suddenly Nagi moved the empty dishes down on the ground, moving beside you and sat between you and the wall, more near to the window, Looking at you while passing you your own phone after turning on his and starting some game.

"Just stay a while longer... Please"

A/n: HELPPP DOES THE ENDING LOOKS RUSHED?, But I just wanted it to be slightly more in character. shit did I make it OOC?, ahh I'm about to cry :c

I'm sorry for disappointing. Since Nagi always fell into the shadows of Reo's popularity, I made reader such too. The reader, like everyone else, saw more Reo and less Nagi and honestly, Nagi also kept his distance with everyone for peace. Which is why I've shown reader struggling to understand Nagi.

Nagi on the other hand is trying to mend things between him and reader. It was something Reo asked him to do before they left for 'Blue Lock'.

also I know I used 'You' a lot but in my defense I didn't want to point it at one gender.

ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoyed this small drabble :3

[v4mpgutz]

Lover, Ethan Landry [ HEADCANONS ]

— darlin' you're my, my, my, my lover <3

ethan landry relationship and other headcanons!

warnings ! — canon-typical blood and gore, canon-typical violence, suggestive content (implied intercourse but no smut), mentions of murder

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

ghostface ethan landry:

ethan landry with an s/o that is so incredibly naive and he finds it absolutely adorable.

-> he comes home from what you assume to be econ, not even questioning him because he's your boyfriend and you trust him. he grins when you ask him how his class went. you didn't question the fact that he had small amounts of blood splattered on his collarbone and his shoes — you didn't question anything. he doesn't say anything other than "good" before he's leaning in to kiss your cheek, a subtle grin on his face as he proceeds to pull you into a hug. what a sad, naive, little thing you were.

ethan landry who completely guts a guy in one of your college classes that won't stop flirting with you. you're his, he doesn't appreciate this asshole chatting you up. so, he murders him, pfft — obviously — because that would be the logical thing to do right?

-> he sneaks into your bedroom window afterwards, his mask cast aside but the black robe still engulfing his body as he walks over to where you're reading on your phone, laying on your side. he's immediately sliding in behind you and wrapping his right arm around your thigh, caressing the skin softly as his left one wraps around your waist. his head buries itself into your neck, leaving gentle kisses there as you giggle. you're so cute. so cute, in fact, that he wants nothing more, after just stabbing some guy who hit on you to death, then to have his way with you. 

non-ghostface ethan:

ethan absolutely loves laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your stomach. he feels so safe and comfortable and warm — he almost never wants to leave. he also really loves being the little spoon but he's never actually voiced that fact because he's a little shy and doesn't want you to think it means he's weak.

(personal projection headcanon) ethan is autistic and his special interests are spiderman and crystals. he loves spiderman and has a whole bookshelf of comics, posters also covering his walls. he also kind of accidentally got into crystals one day and was like "huh" before going down a loophole of different types of crystals and their spiritual meanings, ruling planets and signs, where they're found etc and now he could see two crystals exactly the same and tell you the difference between them.

-> he has auditory processing disorder so when you're telling him something he'll be listening and nod along, saying "yeah" and "ohhh" but a few seconds later he's going, "wait, what did you say?" this happens a few times within the span of 5 minutes sometimes but you're patient with him and he loves you for that. he also needs captions on when watching tv like 90% of the time because he hears what people are saying but can't process it at the same time unless he's seeing it.

ETHAN LANDRY IS A SWIFTIE!!! he fell in love with taylor swift when he was little because quinn listened to her and now he has all of her album cds and a few vinyls including debut with the ORIGINAL picture to burn (yurrr gayyy.. sorry)

-> his favourite albums are definitely folklore and lover but speak now really has a special place in his heart. he listens to mirrorball and haunted that many times a day that you could play them while he's sleeping and he'll just start singing... in his sleep.

he's definitely lactose intolerant but the kind of lactose intolerant person that will eat copious amounts of ice cream and then later while they're fighting for their life be like "lol worth it."

he kept seeing people say pookie on the internet so he kept calling chad pookie but like.. unironically. on the street they'd be near a road and ethan will just all of a sudden say, "careful pookie! theres a crosswalk!" chad attempts to get him to stop. attempts.

ethan loves to bring you flowers, little origami animals, your favourite snacks and drinks etc when he knows you've had a bad day or even if you've had a good one. his love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch.

he says sorry literally all of the time because of wayne and it makes you sad but also makes you want to literally throw his dad off of the statue of liberty because fuck that dude.

when he's sad he won't out-right tell you because he doesn't want you to worry but you notice right away anyway because he gets super clingy. you're laying in bed with him, cuddling as you play with his hair while reading your textbook.

-> you get up to get a glass of water and he whines, pouting and huffing as he gets up too, following you like a lost puppy. "eth, what's the matter?" you ask and he pauses at your sudden stop in the middle of the kitchen. "nothin'.." he mumbles back as he plays with his fingers anxiously, "..'m fine."

i love him to death and i have even more hcs but didnt wanna make this too long. pt.2 maybe?? idk, send asks or comment with your hcs too !

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

TASM!Peter x Reader | Pre Exam Stress | Drabble

Cw- None but I feel like I should add some sort of warning. This can also be read as Tom Holland's Peter Parker,,

93.

You glance up at Peter as the feeling of nausea washes over you. Your exam is in fourty minutes.

He claps your back with his attempt of an encouraging smile.

"You're gonna do well. You revised a lot, remember?"

Of course you know that. The worksheets were so easy it made you paranoid.

There must've been a glare on your face since Peter retracts his hand from your back and raises both of them in a 'surrender' position.

117.

117bmp is the exact rate your heartbeat when you enter the school.

You had brought your notes just so you could revise whilst you wait for your exam to start.

"Didn't the teacher say we might need to know the S and the J curves??" You ask before flicking through your notes to the pages where you had the notes written -just incase.

"You just need to know why they're like that." Peter replies as his shoulder brushes against yours to glance at the notes you took, to which you tilt your book to show him the notes.

"S is the realistic one, and J is the, unrealistic one -the one that hasn't reached carrying capacity," Peter explains as he reads through your notes.

It didn't take long for a teacher to walk out of the classroom and make her announcements as you shove everything into your bag and grab out a pen and a calculator.

After the teacher finishes speaking, she lets you inside and you take your seat next to Peter.

The wait was worse. You couldn't do anything. Your leg quickly bounced in its spot. You sat in silence, watching the timer on the screen, waiting for it to hit 11:55 before you can start the exam.

The teacher runs through everything before waiting a few seconds and giving everyone the green light to begin flick through their papers.

A/N: shitty little drabble,, I wanted to write something, and I didn't know what hz character to use here, and yeah,, sorry that this is worse than my usual works,,

[cofay]

My bitch bad like a diva!!

A/n: RARARARRARARRRRRraraa HE SO FIBE

After your modeling career took off you never failed to absolutely amaze everyone anywhere you went with your hair and outfits..soo naturally a hero like the Shouto Todoroki wouldn’t be attracted to very explosive personalities…

Right?

101000010100001

It’s been a while since you’ve met him at a quite random event he never seemed like the type to like to watch models walk up and down the runway but after he saw you and you’re beautiful shiny skin and the way your hair bounces as you walked down the runway…the sway of your hips and that face you had on was putting him inside some sort of trance….

And right then is when he knew he wanted you and all of you. No holding back now,

100010010111100101

The show was over and well the after party is where everyone is at right now including you, so putting on his best outfit he drove to the house it was located at a huge mansion that looks like it could fit like 20 orphanages talk about humbling anyways he walked in the loud music filling his ears..he scanned the room

Until his eyes landed rightfully onto you~

You were hustling pouring yourself a drink alone surprisingly, he approaches you with long strides.

“Um..I heard you were a model”

You turned around “Oh? Yeah—I mean I am, what about it?”

“I just…was stating an observation…um..how are you?”

“I’m doing fine and you?” You say with a slight smile

“I’m good also I really like your outfit” he says looking you up and down

“Mhm…pretty right.?” you say softly before walking closer towards him, “I really like your eyes” you wink smiling softly

He blushes blinking a bit in confusion it’s not like he’s never received a compliment before it’s just that you were staring so deeply into his eyes while saying that it just makes him nervous he covers his mouth with his hand looking away spitting out a quick ‘Thank you’

“Aww the strong hero’s blushing?”

He snaps his head back at you, “I am?—oh it’s—“

“Don’t be nervous I’m not gonna do anything tough guy” you say inching closer to him and pinching his bicep

10010100111

Okay maybe the alcohol was talking or something in the air but he really REALLY just wanted to kiss you after seeing you smile and just your features up close it was just too much for him to take in all at once but know he might have to reconsider going to work today…because…well…you’re asleep right next to him in his bed..

You’re asleep in his bed?!

10010010111010101

You’re eyes flutter open when you say up rubbing your eyes you groan softly, you look around yawning softly and before noticing holy crap.. this isn’t your apartment what happened last night?

You kinda wish you knew what happened last night before you quickly got up grabbing your clothes and whatever resembled your belongings before bumping into a strong figure.

“Hey?”

“H..hey?…”

“Where are you going?”

“I was just grabbing my things normal one night stand things” you say sarcastically before trying to get past him, he stops you again this time holding you in place

“One night stand?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re a really busy man so if you excuse me—“

“No”

“No?”

“You’re staying for breakfast”

You blink in confusion looking up at him “why?”

“Because I’m going to make you mine.”

~~~~~~~~

Bold don’t you think?

[vividc4ndy]

Guys I have another option for oc's to tell you about. But this one's special~ It's a ditched otome game I was gonna make. Which means the love interest is genuinely the reader.

A group of four people have overthrown your kingdom as your parents were inarguably corrupt. However, you were innocent, at least in their eyes. So, they offered to take you with them, and you agreed. After all, where else would you go? (Player/Reader's character is over 24, any gender! None of them care about gender. That's my only rule if you want romance with them.)

Your options for love interests are:

Ryan: Orphaned prince, blonde, youngest of the group (25), snarky, arrogant but cares deep down

Leos: Enemy kingdoms prince, cold, probably has you chained up because he doesn't trust you, was the only one who didn't want you to join them (27)

Allyson: sweet, charming, playful, kinda touchy, jealous, 6'1", buff woman (28)

Katze: Essentially the male version of Allyson, although more teasing, least responsible of the group (30)

Louise: nonbinary, aggressive, "tsundere" likes painting, possessive, usually the one stuck with "babysitting you" until you're trustworthy (29)

Feel free to make requests!!!

(edit: guys I'm stupid it's 5...)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that languages change over time is so funny to me. we have thousands of language that work perfectly well, but no that's not good enough, we need to keep fiddling with them. no not making them better, just making them different. why? well, humans enjoy making up words and phrases. for fun. enrichment activity

[mwphisto]

Rafayel lets you underestimate him.

He lets you think he’s over dramatic, a push over, that he’s submissive and needs your protecting. All so he can have the satisfaction of catching you completely off guard.

Now, you're under him, legs pushed so far up they squish against your breasts. You can barely breathe, barely think, barely make a coherent sound.

He's pounding into you so hard, so fast, so deep.

Reminding you that he is, in fact, six feet tall and rather muscular. That he’s extremely powerful, strength wise and his evol. That he can portray himself as a lithe, quiet artist with a love for the dramatic flare. He played you. Bad.

“R-Rafayel!” You’re losing your mind, unable to wriggle out of his hold. The pleasure is too much, too intense, his hips are pounding into you at near inhumane speeds. If you could run from his cock, at this point you would.

But he has you pinned to the bed, his body rendering yours immobile, and all you can do is lay there and take it.

Your third — no, maybe your fourth — orgasm hits you like a freight train. The feeling of submission, of helplessness, throwing you right over the edge.

“That’s it, cutie. Cum for me, make a bigger mess of my cock. Remember who’s really in charge here.”

This whole fandom underestimates Rafayel. So many portrayals of him being the smallest, the weakest, flamboyant. My mans is 6 feet tall, muscular and lithe at the same time, a literal god. Fym weak 😩

[lustjunkiie]

thinking of old, retired!simon riley who hangs out pubs in his free time. he’s a tank of muscle, with a soft layer of fat over it all. he’s got the peak dad bod, and he’s a bit tanner than he was from working in his back garden. his tattoos are lining his body and he is scrumptious.

and he meets you. young little thing, sweetest bird he’s ever seen. shining, soft grins and plump, curvy edges.

he nearly drops to his knees to pray for you to grace him with your presence when you do it on your own volition. he forgot he was even playing blackball, the cue still held tightly in his hand. he was just practicing, just a hobby.

“mm, can ye teach me how to play?” you ask, and you’ve got a thicker accent than he does. he drinks it up, with a straw and all. he nods, handing you a freshly chalked cue.

you struggle enough to learn the mechanics for him to decide to stand behind you, front pressed to your back as he bends you over with his body weight — one hand on your waist and the other steadying your cue as you aim to break.

fuck. he’s so hot, burning even through your skimpy dress. his voice rumbles in your ear,

“c’mon, birdie, just steady y’rself. even out yer breathin’.” he instructed, as patient as ever.

you beat him when you guys actually started playing! yay! and then… you decided to make a silly little bet.

“if you can beat me,” you whispered in his ear, liquid temptation mixed with the way you were pulling him by his shirt collar down to your level — you knew he could easily beat you — “i’ll go home with you.”

simon has never won a game of blackball so fast.

[stargildedskies]

Your fav military man, but this time he’s got you bent over his muscled leg, whimpering and pleading with your face smushed against the couch cushion as he rubs your plump pussy with his big, calloused fingers.

It’s almost unfair how he’s got you wound up enough to drool on the cushion. Your legs are spread apart for his complete convenience, and every stroke of his thick fingers against the sensitive, puffy skin has your cunt weeping for more.

You beg and plead for him to do something more- to shove those stupidly thick fingers inside where they belong, and he tuts once, gruffly. A mere second of silence passes, and your clit aches in silent protest of the missing stimulation before- oh.

Your no-nonsense lover’s hand firmly connects with your cunt with a sharp smack, and you see stars. A strangled, surprised moan falls from your lips, and he chuckles darkly, a soft, rasping sound that makes you whine again. “Oh, baby…. Did we learn something new today?”

[ayyy-pee]

waking up freezing and shivering, teeth chattering every night because your husband is a blanket hog. you know it's not on purpose. he just can't help it. doesn't even know he does it most times. you'd think after years together you'd be used to it, but waking up curled into the fetal position as you try to retain even a smidge of warmth is something you don't think you'll ever adjust to.

so you reach behind you, feeling your spouses large form wrapped snug as a bug in your shared blanket and you grip onto the fabric. you pull as hard as you can but you don't manage to move him even an inch. you try once more...same result.

"ken..." you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself. no response. "kento..."

he doesn't budge. you're tempted to just get up and go grab another blanket, but your husband, despite his seriousness, can get quite pouty when you do that. so you tap him hard instead sure to jab him in the spot you know is his most sensitive. this seems to do the trick as he grunts in response.

"I'm cold," you tell nanami and he sits up quickly, realizing what he's done. his pajama top hangs off one shoulder. his blonde hair is pointing every which way and sleep is heavy on his eyelids, threatening to weigh him down again any minute.

"I'm sorry, love," nanami speaks, voice rough and deep with exhaustion, but the sincerity in his apology clear.

then he's throwing the blanket back over you both. only he adds in a little extra warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist and throws a large leg over your body.

nanami buries his face in your neck, adjusting himself so that he can be as close to you as possible. only a few seconds pass before you hear his light snoring behind you. and you know the warmth you feel is from more than just his touch.

[sur-i-ki]

Ｋｉｓｓ Ｍｅ Ｔｉｌｌ Ｙｏｕ＇ｒｅ Ｄｒｕｎｋ

⇝ 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘮𝘢 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

You were smiling at him. He was over at your house, and after a few snacks, you had taken him to your bedroom to play some games.

"We won!" you exclaim as you tackle him in a hug. Kenma hums in reply.

There was a literal fire burning in your eyes as you queued up another game, "Let's play another one,"

After many games though, he felt himself getting a bit frustrated. You weren't giving him much attention. He smirks as he leans back and vows to win this round. Hours had passed by, and the house was asleep, you guys being the exception.

He was getting a little bored.

The end card shows up once more, and you whirl to face him, raising your hand up for a high five. He looks at your hand, then at your face. He raises his hand just a little bit.

"Kenma..." you whine, but as he thought, you shuffle forward to reach his hand.

"Sorry, I'm feeling a bit lazy," he replies.

As you reach his hand, he grabs it and yanks. You let out a startled gasp and fall onto his chest. He presses a few buttons on his controller before the game shuts off.

The both of you shift until you're sitting between his knees, facing him, pouting. Absentmindedly, his hands go to your hips, slipping under your sleeping shirt to trace small circles on your skin.

"We had a streak! What's wrong Ken-" You stop mid-sentence as he leans forward, placing his forehead on yours. Moonlight streams through your window, and you look up at him. He thinks you look very pretty. Kenma says as much, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

He feels you huff in annoyance, but you don’t push him away. He pulls you closer, kissing your cheeks before backing up just enough to kiss the tip of your nose.

He smiles as your pout melts away.

But he notices the way your eyes flicker down to his lips.

“You want something?” He knows he’s being a little mean, but he justifies it with the goosebumps that rise under his finger tips.

Kenma chuckles before grabbing and kissing you. Your hands fly to his shirt, and he looks at you through hooded eyes. You kiss him back, and he can’t help to smirk at how flustered you get.

Breaking the kiss, you turn away and lay down on the bed. He can’t help but think you look a little drunk. Coming up behind you, he balances himself on his hands as he kisses your neck.

“G-go to sleep, Kenma” You say as you turn to push him down.

He pouts in return, but you’re already pulling the covers up and snuggling into him. Kenma kisses you again before finally grabbing you and closing his eyes.

The last thing he sees is you smiling at him.

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

[2cupids]

nerd!jo keeps the glasses on while eating pussy.

his tongue swipes in between your slick folds, collecting your arousal on the muscle as he fucks your hole. his nose bumping against your aching clit occasionally.

two of his slim fingers trace the outline of your pussy lips before slipping them inside your warmth with ease. he scissors his fingers open to stretch you out, curving his fingers up as he thrusts them in and out of your tight pussy.

an arm hooks around your thigh to spread your legs open wider and gojo rests the side of his cheek against the soft flesh of your inner thigh as his tongue darts out to start playing with your clit. ocean blue eyes peek up at you over the rim of his glasses sometimes to gauge your reaction and make sure you’re feeling good.

satoru hums against your pussy, the vibration sending tingles through your body as your fingers tug at his soft, platinum locks. “mmph– toru don’t stop, baby. ‘m gettin’ close.”

the pads of his finger continue to graze against your g-spot as he pumps his fingers into you at a quickened pace. your fingers twist in his hair, pulling at his scalp and the twinge of pain makes more precum leak into his already wet boxers.

you grind your swollen pussy against his face as your orgasm continues approaching. pretty sounds spill from your lips as you gyrate your hips against gojo, much to his enjoyment.

your body trembles in satisfaction underneath him as he makes you cum. satoru doesn’t ease up and keeps eating you as you’re riding your high out, now starting to squirm underneath him. it’s not until gojo’s pushing you into overstimulation and your shaky thighs are trapping his head against your kitty does he finally break away from your sensitive pussy.

he kisses it and pulls away from your spent body and fixes his foggy glasses. he pulls the cover over you and moves back over to his desk, wedging his head back in his book to finish studying for the test tomorrow.

and somehow he managed not to even let a smudge get on his precious glasses.

tags <3 @cheezemanz

[toooceanblue]

Thinking about how in Gideon's narration she employs 206 anatomical names for bones but Harrow doesn't know the difference between a hilt and a pommel. Something something cavaliers being expected to respect/understand/integrate into necromancy while necromancers are not expected to do the same for caveliership. Is this anything.