#unsure if i should tag this further or not…

[ntmx8783]

Episode 18: Lost Stars B's-Log Translation

Disclaimer: This translation is done by a non-professional TLer. There may be inaccuracies in it, so please use it as a reference and not law. Measures were taken to ensure accuracy, but I am only human! I have chosen to use the ENG terms whenever possible; please see TL notes for more information.

Please do not repost my translations.

Plain text and TL notes under the cut!

Undergoing Tentei's Trials at the Star Festival[1]! For a single day each year, the Hotarubi rain stops for the Star Festival. As part of the festival rites, four students are selected to take part in Tentei's trials together as 'Hikoboshi' and 'Orihime'[2]. Further, it's said that if you're able to overcome this difficult undertaking, Tentei will grant you a special wish...?!

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As the MC waits in front of the large bamboo, the ghouls arrive one after another. But, as soon as Towa spots her, he pulls her into a hug?! Later, Lyca seems to be enjoying the festivities! He takes a particular interest in the 'Lightbulb Soda'[3]. "T-Towa!! For you and her to do such a thing in public...!!" "Hey, you get one too. What colour d'you want?"

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Take on the trials bestowed by Tentei! For this year's festival, Towa, Lyca, and Subaru have been selected to take on the role of 'Hikoboshi' by the anomalous Star Lottery[4]. The MC, designated as this year's 'Orihime' by the three ghouls, wonders if the trial's reward could be used to undo her curse. According to the scroll bestowed by Tentei, there's a total of five trials to complete. Under the assumption that the riddles can be solved at the festival itself, the group begins to look for clues around the area, and--.........

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Translation Notes:

[1] While the original calls it 'July 7th', it's genuinely just referring to Tanabata, aka the Star Festival (according to the official ENG TL). This is a traditional Japanese festival, and many of the things referenced within this B's-Log is taken from that myth, so if you don't know anything about it, I highly recommend looking into it! ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ [2] Tentei, Hikoboshi, and Orihime are all pulled from the myth. While the TL for Tentei should be accurate (天帝 is just... Tentei), I am unsure if they will be called Hikoboshi/Orihime or Cowherds/Tanabata Girl (牽牛役・織女). The JP used are epithets for Hikoboshi and Orihime, and it would match the myth, but. I truly truly do not know, so I chose what I think is most likely. ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ [3] I don't know what else to call this. Electric Soda? The JP, 電気ソーダ, comes from 電球ソーダ which are the lightbulb shaped sodas. Since the focus is on the lightbulb / electricity theme, I went with Lightbulb Soda, but I am hoping the ENG has a better TL than that.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ [4] 星みくじ. The JP says either the process of the lottery or the lottery itself is anomalous, and it gives this a title, so I just chose to translate it directly. There's a good chance this won't be the real name in the episode, but the idea is that the three 'Hikoboshi' are selected randomly, which could explain why Hotarubi aren't the ones leading this mission fully! While there's no explanation on why Zenji is there yet, it seems he's once again just tagging along. ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━ Side note: This episode takes place in Hotarubi. The image of the building on the water is in Hotarubi! Neat!

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

Notes: Hello! Yada yada pregnant yada yada writers block yada yada lost 3 chapters and had to transfer everything I had left to a google doc from word. Anyway, ON WITH THE SHOW! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me thus far ❤️ Tagging @smashee0789

Chapter 15: Naïve

You

No sooner had the word left your mouth, did every ape around you, excluding Soona and the Matriarch, begin to speak and sign at once.

“Speaks! Echo speaks!”

“Elder…spoke true.”

“Is said…Echos cannot…speak.”

“She…spoke…heard her!”

“Say more…say more Echo!”

You were suddenly surrounded, the young apes no longer keeping a respectable distance. Some tapped your leg while others circled you. E, no, Eden was fighting her way through bigger apes to get to you. The overwhelming feeling of being cornered wasn’t as striking as it probably should have been, but it was still there as a tingle at the base of your spine. You couldn’t even think of words to appease the chanting around you. The only thing you could think of was the turn the events of today had taken. You didn’t sign up for this.

Eden had grown frustrated at fighting for a place next to you. You saw her huff in anger before charging over to Soona. She kneeled to pick up Eden, but was just as surprised as you when Eden began to climb up her legs, waist, and back. Soona stood as Eden centered herself on her shoulders, a vague idea of what she was about to do tickling your brain. Then, without further preamble, Eden leapt off of Soona with a force that startled both you and ape.

“Eden no- fuck!” You screamed without really thinking. You had just enough time to hold out your arms to catch her before you were toppled to the ground from the impact.

Your pelvic muscles screamed at you, not as loud as your back, but enough to make you wince and whine. Eden was standing on your chest, looking at you now with concern as she wondered what had caused you to cry out in pain. She patted your cheek and moved hair that had fallen into your face. You winced again, hissing as you took in your next breath. Soona stepped closer then, face showing concern the longer you remained flat on your back.

You huffed out a breath, testing your shoulders to make sure nothing was broken before raising a hand and showing a thumbs up. “I’m alright.”

“Can speak…can speak!”

The chorus started again. You internally groaned, the noise becoming an external one when you heard one of them ask, “Fuck?…what does…fuck…mean?”

“Echo word.” Another added.

“Echo word…Echo what does…fuck mean.

Greeeeeat. You’re around children for two minutes and you already taught them how to swear.

You sit up slowly, holding Eden as you do. She was spirited for one so small, you’d give her that. She hissed and swiped at any ape that stepped too close to you, not needing words to communicate to the others that they needed to back off. You appreciated the effort as you caught your breath, trying and somewhat failing to calm your racing heart. All in all though, the situation could be worse.

You looked up then, to find the Matriarch staring at you. You fought the urge to swallow. Though she was an ape, and that fact alone intimidated you, she had a very calm presence about her that told you that you were in no danger. Whether that was due to her obvious age, or the softness you saw in her eyes, you were unsure. She did her best to smile at you, “Our youngest…seems…attached…to you.”

The other apes around you had quieted to a hush, stepping back in what felt like respect as the Matriarch began to shuffle towards you. You nodded, Eden remaining fixed in your lap while her head glanced back and forth from you to the Matriarch. “I suppose. I found her by the water. Soona said she wandered off…?”

The unspoken question was obvious. The Matriarch simply hummed, “Youngling…may have…mis-under-stood…my teaching.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Which was?”

“All life…holds…intelligence,” The Matriarch began. “From boar…to Eagle…to Echo…speech matters not…all must be…respected.”

You nodded, not quite sure where she was going with this. She offered you her stick, which you took with a signed Thank you from your free hand. As you stood, Eden clung to your clothes, until she was hanging off of your back by your shoulders. Your instinct was to brace her, but by the way her head rested against you, you were sure she was just fine. The Matriarch spared Eden a single glance before continuing, “Echos…are not respected…seen as…pests…I say Echos…can be as…smart as ape…Master of Birds…befriended one…planned to meet Echo…downstream…today…to discuss…im-por-tant matters.”

“That’s right,” you agreed. You noticed the stinted way she talked, slower, not nearly as clear as Noa or Soona. You wondered if it was due to her age or if it was a personal choice, similar to Anaya often speaking in the third person. It was almost soothing, the way she spoke. You felt comfortable enough to ask, “Where did the misunderstanding happen?”

“Younglings,” she continued. “Did not believe…an echo could…speak…but…Master of Birds…would not speak…downstream with…a silent Echo…if they could…only see…they would know.”

You arched your neck slightly to look at Eden, “Did you take that as an invitation or a challenge?”

Eden’s lips thinned, refusing to acknowledge your question. Of course her hands were busy, but she also refused to nod or shake her head. You simply shrugged your shoulders, a task much harder with her weight hanging off them. “Suit yourself.”

The Matriarch hummed, “Think she…saw lesson as…permission…she is small…easy to miss...I am…grateful…that you found her…comforted her.”

“Oh,” you said, stunned by her thanks. “It was no problem, really. I’m just surprised you knew Noa and I were planning to meet downstream.”

“Have heard…much…about you.” The Matriarch chuffed, “Especially…before this sunrise.”

“You’re an elder!” You guessed, lowering your head and bending your knees in some show of respect. “I am sorry if I offended you or your clan yesterday by not showing. I was…I was not prepared to do so.”

You heard Soona and the children begin to hoot behind you, a few discreet sounds coming from Eden as she trembled against your back. The Matriarch simply shook her head, signing as she explained, “I am not…elder…though I am…old…am known as…honored teacher.”

“Honored teacher,” you repeated and signed at the same time. “My apologies. I guess…I’m more well known by your clan than I originally thought.”

You gave a sideways glance to Soona, feeling slightly betrayed. You couldn’t fault her though, or any them for that matter, when it came to the clan knowing about you. In a way, you were more protected should a random ape stumble upon you. It hadn’t happened yet, no sign of any others except the usual trio, but that could change now that Summer was in full swing.

“Known?” The Matriarch parroted. “By some…yes…more gossip…and guess…from most.”

“Oh,” you responded dumbly. You wanted to ask how the idea of you had been received, but fear acted as a lead weight to your tongue. Fear of being seen as a nuisance or a pest. Or worse, a threat. The vague notion of you might be better than the clan outright knowing how imbedded you had become within the life of their Master of Birds.

Your thoughts were interrupted then by their Honored Teacher, another hum leaving her as she made a vague gesture to the young apes. “Have much to…teach…but thought…you would…like to…help.”

It sounded more like a question. Were you being told or asked? The younglings began to hover around you once more before sitting near the edge of the bank in a lineup…all still staring at you. Even Eden tumbled from your shoulders to join the group. You looked between their tiny, expectant faces, Soona, and the matriarch. What were you meant to do here? You shifted from one foot to the other, watching Soona seat herself on the ground next to the students. The look she fixed you with was curious, as if in this moment you knew more than she did.

Were they waiting for your answer?

The silence stretched another heartbeat before you cleared your throat, “Sure. I don’t know how much help I’ll be…but I can try.”

At that, multiple tiny arms went up, waving frantically while the children hooted for attention. Your eyes widened slightly at their enthusiasm, Soona seeming just as surprised as you. Their Honored Teacher used her staff to point at one of the children, who proudly stood and asked, “Does Echo have a name?”

“I do,” you answered just as proudly. You gave your first name, letting the information be absorbed, even commented on before you asked, “What are your names?”

The largest of the young apes stepped forward, the one who had scented you earlier, pointing to himself as he said, “Able.”

You nodded, watching as he pointed to the slightly smaller ape next to him, “Atlas.”

A hoot of excitement drew your attention to three clustered apes, who answered one after the other, “Juno.”

“Sky.”

“Ravi.”

You mouthed each name after it was said, trying to remember faces with names. Their features weren’t too distinct yet, seeing as they were young, but a few had arm bands or fur markings that caught your eye. Able was the easiest, seeing as he was the biggest, but the three female apes had very little in terms of distinction. You turned then to the two remaining apes. They looked between each other skeptically, before the one on the left pointed to himself, much like Able had, “Breeze.”

The final one mimicked his friend, “Ford.”

That was a lot of names, unusual ones you knew you would struggle to remember. Too bad you couldn’t write them down. Ford’s head turned slightly to the side then, studying you, before he asked, “Why do you only have hair on head…are Echos meant to be bald?”

The question took you by surprise, and you would have felt insulted if it had come from anyone else…but coming from an ape child, it was almost cute. You heard a slight huff behind you from their honored teacher, who was clearly displeased with Ford’s question.

You simply smirked and shook your head, “Echos are not meant to have hair everywhere as thick as apes do. We are just different that way; like how fish have scales, and birds have feathers. We have hair in places that are vulnerable to cold, meant to help keep us warm. We also have more hair than what you see on my head. The other hairs are just thinner and harder to see.”

Juno’s hand went into the air then, so excited she did not wait for their Honored Teacher to call on her.

“How do you speak?”

You hesitated, wondering how best to explain it. They were children after all, so maybe a simple answer was best. “A long time ago, all Echos could speak. Now, only some of us can. I’m one of the ones who can, so I do.”

“Why? Why only some?” Able asked.

“Well, it’s complicated.” You bit your lip, hands tightening at your sides, “First, Echos became sick, and there weren’t a lot of us after that. We could still talk then, but many years- uh, generations later, Echos started to lose the ability to speak. We weren’t sure why or how to stop it. We just…kept to ourselves after that. The ones that could speak lived together, and the ones who couldn’t lived outside with…nature.”

Sky hooted, “Echo lived with other speaking Echos?”

“Where?” Able chimed in again, “Where are speaking clan of Echos?”

“Is Echo alone?” Atlas interjected. “Did your clan lose ability to speak?”

“Is Echo going to join our clan?” Juno said, “Master of Birds was meant to speak with Echo today.”

Your mouth felt dry then. You swallowed hard, willing the sudden sting in your eyes to go away. The children were still hurling questions at you, but you didn’t hear them. Your mind had begun to tune them out as your current situation was brought into focus. What you thought was going to be an impersonal lesson about Echos and coexistence, had suddenly turned into a very personal lesson about your life. At this stage you didn’t even have a response to the questions they were asking, mind too busy trying to figure out how to answer without causing more trouble between the species. You weren’t prepared to teach Echo 101 to children today. Again, you didn’t sign up for this.

That’s when an unexpected silence suddenly came over the group in front of you, another loud and very disapproving grunt resounding from their Honored Teacher. Or, so you assumed. Your eyes cut to her then, attention solely on you, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

You nodded, taking a deep breath through your nose as you tried to remember the multitude of things the apes had wanted to know. After another moment of silence, you replied, “My clan did not lose their ability to speak, but they did lose me. I travelled a very long way away from home, and found myself here living on the edge of your territory. I am alone now, but that’s okay. I’m an Echo, and Echos can be a clan of many or a clan of one. I choose to be a clan of one, because it makes me happy.”

You waited for more questions, but an unexpected lull fell over the group. The children were torn, looking back and forth between each other and the ground. That’s when you realized the tone of the group had shifted to something almost uncomfortable. Did you do that? What had you said? Was it just them reacting to being scolded?

No

Your eyes found Soona, who looked almost sad, but she wasn’t looking at you. She wasn't staring off into the distance either. Her gaze was clearly on something else, but before you could think more of it, another hand slowly went into the air.

It was Eden, who waited patiently for their Honored Teacher to point at her before she began to sign her question, Why does Master of Birds speak with Echo?

That was a complicated answer, one you weren’t sure you wanted to explain, when a familiar voice behind you chimed in, “Because I…enjoy what Echo…has to say.”

You turned sharply then, seeing Noa standing a few feet behind you. You had never seen him look sheepish before, but the way he stood reminded you of when you were a child being yelled at by your parents. He did not seem angry though, which put you at ease immediately, causing a smile to bubble up as you sighed out, “Hello, Noa.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up then, “Hello, Echo…younglings…honored teacher.”

Younglings? You assumed that’s what the apes call their children, and as you thought about it, Able had called Eden a newborn earlier. You also recalled Anya and Noa exchanging the same insult when they were teasing each other. You would need to ask about the different terms for apes and their ages, not wanting to offend anyone accidentally by referring to them as the wrong age class.

You heard their honored teacher chuff in amusement, “Son…welcome…younglings have…many questions…best for…another day…time for Echo…to meet with…Master of Birds.”

Son?!

Your head snapped towards their honored teacher so fast you thought you might have pulled something. If she noticed your confusion, she did not show it, simply nodding and hooting something you did not understand to the children. In turn, they all started to shuffle back up stream, running and chasing after one another in a way that was obviously playful. All except Eden, who tugged on your arm until you bent down to her level. She grabbed the back of your head then and crashed her forehead against yours, rubbing it back and forth a few times before pulling away. You rubbed the sore spot between your brows, watching Eden take Soona’s hand before pulling her along to follow after the others.

Soona did not pause to say goodbye, which was strange by itself, but then you caught her tossing a pointed look over her shoulder towards Noa. You couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind it, and before you could focus on it any longer, Soona’s head swiveled and she gave a last minute wave in your direction. Your hand rose slightly to return the gesture, before Soona’s attention was jerked back towards Eden. You snorted a small laugh, lowering your hand as you watched them go.

All too soon, you found yourself alone with Noa and his mother. You felt his eyes on you, but you could not meet his gaze, mind overwhelmed with everything you had just experienced. Did you just answer youngling questions about humans? As if you were some expert brought in to teach a class of students.

“You are…alright?” Noa asked, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him again, nodding silently before his mother added, “She is…very kind…very good…with younglings.”

“Thank you, honored teacher.” You replied and signed.

She nodded once, hand raising so her knuckles nudged your shoulder, “I am…called Dar…should you ever…need my name.”

You felt your eyebrows raise slightly, before replying, “Thank you, Dar. I enjoyed learning with your group.”

Dar hummed contentedly, eyes shifting to Noa, “I will…depart…return to…younglings…allow you and…Echo to speak.”

Noa grunted in understanding, before his mother turned back towards you, “I am…happy…to have met you…hope to see…you again…soon.”

You swallowed, trying to smile, “I hope to see you, and the younglings, again too.”

With that, Noa’s mother turned and followed the same path the younglings had taken mere moments ago. You and Noa remained quiet, exchanging patient glances until you both determined Dar was a good distance away. You raised both eyebrows at Noa then, as you asked, “You told your mother about me?”

Noa shrugged, face expressionless, though he would not meet your eye, “Echo is…important…mother deserved…to know.”

You nodded, suddenly aware of the midday sun beating down on you. The energy between you and Noa seemed to shift into a tense silence along with the heat. You supposed neither of you really knew how to start. Taking a deep breath, you asked, “Walk with me?”

Noa cocked his head slightly, but grunted in agreement before shuffling alongside you. You didn’t have far to go, but you wanted an excuse to move closer to the water, closer to your rock. Your feet toed the edge of the water before you turned back to Noa, “I’m going to cool off real quick, then I suppose we have some things to discuss.”

“Yes…we do.” Noa said, looking skeptically at the water’s edge.

There was a twinge of pain in your abdomen as you took your first step into the water, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you waded in up to your waist, cupping some water in your hand before splashing it onto your face. You sighed in relief, repeating the process and allowing the water to dampen your hair slightly. From the corner of your eye, you caught Noa staring, deep in thought as he watched you. Inhaling deeply, you decided stalling wouldn’t do either of you any good.

You carefully made your way back to the water’s edge, finding a rock slightly submerged in water, and just big enough to sit on. This allowed you to keep your legs in the water, which would keep your temperature down as well. Wrapping your arms around your knees you arched your back in a slight stretch before sighing, “I should probably start off by saying that I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk.”

“I do not…wish to fight…either.” Noa agreed. “I…regret yesterday…I was…wrong…came to say that…last night.”

You nodded, “I regret yesterday too.”

Silence engulfed you both once again. You wanted to apologize. Then, you remembered the look on his face after you had thrown that rock, anc when he found you on the ground with Anaya. The shame of it all practically clawed at the back of your throat. Where were you even supposed to start? Had things been permanently damaged between the two of you that now you couldn’t even speak to him like you used to?

“What does…” Noa pasused, the beginning of his question catching you off guard. “What does…naïve mean?”

Your brows furrowed, “I don’t understand.”

Noa’s jaw worked a moment before he explained, “You said…I was naïve…about other apes…accepting you.”

“Yes,” you drawled. “And you called me naïve for questioning the mark.”

Noa huffed, “Yes…but what does…it mean.”

You were confused for only another moment, before you felt laughter bubble up inside of you. “Wait. Did you call me naïve just because I called you naïve?”

Noa turned his head away, looking far upstream before he admitted, “…Maybe.”

You couldn’t hold it in, you started to full on cackle at the thought. You supposed that’s how mad he had truly been, deciding to just throw the word back at you instead of questioning what it meant in the moment. Truthfully, you probably would have done the same. Your side started to twinge from your laughter, and you noticed Noa had turned back at the sound he was so familiar with. He had that warm smile on his face, the one you had seen that night in your burrow.

“Missed…that sound.” Noa commented.

Your laughter died then, and the weight of yesterday hit you again with full force. So much had happened. Your attention was suddenly drawn to the water, fingers running through the sluggish current before you muttered, “Naïve isn’t bad necessarily. It sort of means…innocent thinking. You would call someone naïve who…doesn’t know or understand something because they haven’t had experience with whatever it is they’re talking about.”

Noa was silent, absorbing your words. Then, “Naïve is like…calling ape…a youngling.”

“Well, not…actually no, that’s pretty accurate.” You chuckled.

Noa chuffed in amusement along with you, before admitting, “I was…naïve about…you.”

That caused you to freeze, the hair on your arm standing on end. What did he mean by that? Did he mean about you being a good Echo? Had Anaya told him about Micheal and he knew you had hidden it from him?

Thankfully, Noa explained, “I thought…I knew…better…I was…wrong…Echo is not…pest…or member of…Eagle Clan…I can not…decide…for you…I am…sorry.”

You felt the tension in your body ease slightly. “I’m sorry too, Noa. I understand what you were trying to do. I just…I wasn’t ready. There are things I’m not ready to do…or tell you. I want to, and I will, just….just not yet.”

“Tell me?” Noa parroted. He shuffled closer to the water's edge then, voice softer as he assured, “Can tell me…anything…will listen…not get upset…understand now…you need…time…patience.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say to that. You were stunned by this sudden turn around. Then again, Noa always had been careful with you; could see what you needed sometimes better than you could. It made hiding things from him all the more painful. All you could do was nod, mumbling, “Thank you.”

Noa reached for you then, not suddenly or urgently, but carefully, as if you were the wild animal that may spook if any sudden movement was made. Perhaps in this situation, you were. The movement didn’t surprise you, but the action itself did as he grasped you by your elbow. You leaned in closer, mirroring his hunched position as his gaze focused in on your arm. There was a sort of wonder in his voice as he observed, “You are…more vulnerable…to cold…and heat…that is purpose…of thin…hard to see…hair.”

You blinked rapidly, noticing for the first time, the damp hair of your arm standing on end. How bizarre. It was such a small thing for him to notice. That’s when his words rang again in your ears, and something clicked in your mind. He had been listening when the young apes were asking you questions. Noa had been there.

That’s when all the oddities of before seemed to fall into place. You weren’t sure how long he had been there of course, but he had been there towards the end of the questions at least. When it started to become too much for you, he had stepped in. The disapproving grunt, Soona looking pointedly at something behind you, the young apes going quiet and not looking towards you anymore…that had been him.

Noa continued, not realizing you were having your own revelation, eyes still fixed on your arm. “The younglings…liked learning…about Echos…there is…much to learn…I want to…learn too.”

This statement shook you out of your previous thoughts as a new one took shape. You called Noa’s name, causing him to lock eyes with you, before you asked, “Do you know what a compromise is?”

[getouyuri]

i really only ever post romantic fics or snippets from romantic fics but i never show my platonic/familial ones idk why… i tend to show them to my close friends + my beta and leave it that. buuuut i wanna finish and post some of said familial fics in 2025 SAURRRR BADDDDD so im working on one of my longer WIPs with gojo and his students ☹️😞

two screenshots contain mentions of blood but nothing overly descriptive. all of these are random parts that don’t go together. characters involved are ofc gojo, nobara, yuuta, megumi, bit of tsumiki cos she’s my meow meow princess

gojo voice: MY SHAYLAAAAAS

[dandyshucks-moving]

proship ppl don't always like the shit you mentioned. You meant comship lol.

This is the only thing I'm ever going to answer or say about any of this subject on here. This blog is literally just a very silly and self indulgent space where I'm having fun, and I despise this subject in its entirety. The only reason I am answering this is to have something to point to in case it ever comes up again so I don't have to say anything further.

I could not give less of a hoot about the label somebody uses. If you think fiction has no affect on reality, and/or if you think creating (in any form) jerk-off material about kids is even remotely okay or normal, then I need you to leave and block me. Doesn't matter what label you use - just block me so I do not interact with you. I'm not interested in arguing; at the end of the day, underage and incest fiction make me incredibly uncomfortable, and that's reason enough to avoid it.

The reason I specified any label at all in my pinned post is because I think sometimes people skim through pinned posts to find that word specifically so they know if somebody is safe to follow or not. I included it to be easily visible so people will know I'm safe to follow. I'll probably take it out honestly at this point to avoid ... [gestures at this ask] happening again, and if someone can't be bothered to read through the post and see my clearly laid out stance, then that's on them.

[lonely-moons]

⁀✶comfort of you | bucky barnes x reader

title: comfort of you

pairing: bucky barnes x reader (can be whatever era you want if you take it as an au where the avengers compound is still thriving. rip.)

warnings: mentions of a nightmare

summary: when you wake up to find your friend bucky sleeping on the floor of your bedroom, it's safe to say you're confused. but, hey, the guy doesn't have an abundance of comfort, so you're more than okay with being it for him.

wc: 1,380

notes: haven't posted in ages but i am down so bad for this man goodbye (or ig hi? lmao). thank you thunderbolts for taking me back to 2021 as i read bucky fics daily 🙏

masterlist

you wake with a sharp inhale that borders on a gasp. it takes a moment for the images of your recent failed mission to disintegrate. you're plagued by a screaming woman - a roaring fire - and then the darkness of your room.

but something isn't quite right. after so long in this job, your senses stay awake even when you aren't. they ring now, heighten even more when you hear a movement on the ground beside your bed.

you switch your bedside lamp on in record speed, prepared to pounce or kick or whatever it is you have to do to eliminate the threat. but your poised stance falters when you see what's on the ground. or rather, who.

bucky barnes is laying there, propped up on his elbow as he looks up at you. his expression is sheepish but tinged with concern, like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be and now he isn't quite sure how to react.

you blink once, twice, trying to come to terms with the image in front of you. the guy is your best friend, sure, but you don't quite know what to make of this. he's wearing what he typically sleeps in: a simple t-shirt and sweats, his eyes a little bleary like they'd been closed for a while.

had he been sleeping on your floor?

"um..." you say ungracefully, the only thought that's bouncing around in your head right now.

the sound of your voice seems to snap him to action. he sits up further, the chain of his dog tags shifting along with him. "sorry, i -" his arm comes up to rub his neck as he cuts himself off.

"impromptu sleepover?" you ask.

it's light but unsure. you want to know what the hell is going on, but the way his face scrunches, as though guilty, makes something in your chest ache. if this had been anyone else, you would have long since thrown a pillow at them, let your voice raise in exasperation. but this is bucky. while you don't tread around him on broken glass, knowing he hates it and deserves more, you also vividly remember how long it had taken for him to open up to you in the first place. you never want to ruin that.

he stares down at his hands, unable to look at you any longer. which means he must be really flustered, because one thing about bucky barnes - he has a staring problem.

"you okay, buck?"

he huffs out a laugh, but it's weak, like it gets caught in his doubt on the way out. "i should be the one asking you that. nightmare?"

your confusion had almost made you forget about why you were awake in the first place. now you smile, slightly rueful. "guess so. you, uh... got precognition or something?"

he copies your expression. "guess so."

a silence lands between you, not quite comfortable but not yet in the territory of awkwardness. you both have things to say, but they're evading you. unspoken words seem to fly between you as you watch each other, waiting to see who will break first. but this is your room, your space, which provides you with a home advantage.

"i wasn't sleeping well either," he finally admits. "came to see if you were awake and when you weren't... well, i doubt i wouldn't have been able to get through to you with all the snoring anyway."

"i don't snore!"

his shoulders shake with the small laugh he releases, and it's as though the movement throws some of the tension right off. you think you'd let him throw out jabs like that forever if it meant he'd relax even a little further.

"sure," he says. "you don't talk in your sleep either."

"you," you point a finger at him, "are a horrible person."

"i know." a small smile appears, but neither it nor his words are self-deprecating. they never are anymore, at least not with you. "it keeps me awake at night.

an exasperated huff escapes you. "whatever. i can't believe you coming in here didn't wake me. i'm usually a pretty light sleeper."

"never has before."

"wait - what?"

"uh - shit."

the lightness of the previous few minutes evaporates in an instant. bucky runs a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. you, on the other hand, do not feel bad enough to spare him from a grilling.

"you've come in here before? when?"

"no, it's not like that, i don't..."

"don't what?"

he opens his mouth to answer, but instead of speaking he rises to his feet. "look, i'm sorry, this was... i'm just gonna -" he points to the door, then immediately begins to bolt for it.

"wait!"

your voice stops him, which you're vaguely surprised about. in his current state, you thought he's been in a full-fledged flee mode. tunnel vision, feet on a set path, hearing only tuned into his self-derogatory thoughts. but it seems the sound of you has managed to break through.

he doesn't turn around, though. you think you've managed to figure out what's been going on now, even if you don't quite understand it. bucky tends to prefer harder surfaces to anything cushy. you've seen it before, when you've gone to his room to ask to borrow something and he was sitting on a blanket on the floor beside the bed. after you'd finally taught him how to play mario kart on one of tony's huge tvs, and he'd chosen to sit on the ground by your legs as you sunk into the dreamy sofa. he'd said he was able to concentrate better down there, that the plush comfort would just send him to sleep.

you'd called him an old man but silently wondered if it was something else. eventually the pieces had seemed to align and you realised the truth: whether he really didn't like it or didn't think he deserved it, bucky did not like the comfort of those soft things. that explains why he's on the floor, but as for why he's on your floor...

you speak quietly but firmly, watching his back and trying to picture his face.

"you can lay back down if you want."

he hesitates. not even a full second, but you know him well enough to just catch it. "no, that's okay. i'll let you get back to sleep."

"seriously," you press, before he can reach the door handle. "i don't mind. honestly, i... i wouldn't mind the company."

he looks back over his shoulder, guarded like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. even though he's known you for years now, knows your kindness, bucky isn't used to such a carefree affection that you give him. "really?"

you nod. "besides, i'm gonna need someone to listen to my sleep talk and report back to me. could be some really important stuff going on there."

his lips twitch slightly and you mentally cheer. he's giving in. he doesn't allow himself that luxury much, but it seems you have a certain knack for getting it to happen.

he falters as he heads back to his position on the floor, looking between the blanket - that he'd brought with him and planned on abandoning in his haste to leave - and you, on the bed. his eyes study you, a question in them that only takes a moment for you to decipher. you think he's wondering about your offer, about whether lay back down means the bed or the floor, about which he wants, about which might seem rude. but you say nothing as he thinks, only sending him a brief, reassuring smile, then avert your eyes to let him decide as you turn off the light.

he chooses the floor. you certainly wouldn't have minded him in your bed, but all you want is for him to be comfortable.

"night, buck."

"night, doll."

as the sound of your breathing syncs up, you shift to the very edge of the bed. your hand blindly reaches down, feeling around. he jolts slightly when you make impact with his flesh hand, but then he intertwines your fingers without a word.

bucky may not be ready for the comfort of a mattress or pillows, but he's certainly learning to love the comfort of you.

[tbaluver]

Hiii! If it's okay can I request reader pranking LADS men with 'lets breakup' just to see their reaction? ;D

Break Up Prank - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader genre/tags: angsty w/ comfort-ish at the end a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i ened up writing this more angsty mainly bc i just think they would be devasted if you ever wanted to leave them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“This bread should go well with the chocolate milk. Would you like to try?” He asks, offering it to you with a soft smile.

You take a deep breath, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “I think we should break up.” The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it instantly. You watched his eyes widen and his entire body freeze. His hands, still holding the bread midair, slowly lowers.

“what?” He says weakly, trying to process what’s happening. “I..I don't get it.” His smile slowly disappears, a frown replacing it instead. His eyes search yours desperately to find any clue, any hints to find an answer. “Did I do something wrong?” He stammered, his gaze shifting downward as his heart sank all the way down to his body.

You don’t think you can go further with this prank any longer, feeling immediately guilty. “I was just kidding! It’s a prank, Xavier,” You say, trying to lighten the mood but yet the tension in the air still remains.

He doesn’t move, his eyes are uncertain, flicking between you and his plate. “Are you sure?” His voice was quiet, trying to convince himself it was a joke but a part of him still thought otherwise. “If there is something wrong, if there’s anything I can do-” He trails off but before he can say anything more, you rush to his side, your arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I'm so sorry, Xavier. I shouldn't have done that. Tara and I saw it online, and I thought it would be funny. I promise I love you, and I would never want to leave you.” For a while, he doesn’t respond, but slowly, he pulls you closer, burying his face into your neck. His breath is a little shaky, but you feel his shoulders relax just a little.

“I didn't want to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. His hair tickles your neck and you can feel the soft sigh of relief as the tension leaves his body.

“Do you still want to eat your snacks?” you pull away slightly, cupping his face but he shakes his head. His arms tighten around you as he buries himself back into your neck.

“Let's just stay like this for a while,” He murmurs, his voice still slightly shaky. His appetite has vanished entirely, replaced by a need for comfort and that you’re both going to be okay. He should’ve never given bread another chance.

Zayne:

“You shouldn’t sit like that. It can lead to lower back discomfort." Zayne says softly, his hands carefully help you adjust your position as he places a pillow behind your head.

“I don't think this is working out. I think we should end this.” You kept your tone flat, not a hint of a smile or a crack of a laugh to give away the joke. The air around you both goes still, and Zayne stops mid-sentence on his lecture for your posture and health. His throat goes dry while his eyes narrow as if trying to process what you’ve said.

There was an awkward silence between you both until he cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as if it were the only thing he could focus on to keep himself together. “May I ask where this is coming from, my love?” His nickname for you came into a hushed whisper, unsure if he could even use that name at this moment.

“Can we please talk it out? If it’s my nagging that’s become too much, then I’ll stop..my only intention is to look after you.” He’s trying to keep his composure, but you can hear the hurt in his words. “If there's anything else I've done or said, anything I can fix together with you.. I promise-”

You can feel the guilt creeping in each time he speaks. You couldn’t ignore how it affected you and how he was so serious and vulnerable. This prank has gone a little too far, and the laughter you held back was now gone. ”Zayne, wait! I'm so sorry it was just a prank!” You rushed, “I thought it would be funny..I saw this video online..”

Zayne's eyes flutter close as he sighs heavily. “Forgive me..I forgot I'm dating a comedian,” He mutters under his breath, a half smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head, a slow exhale escapes past his lips. “I'm glad everything’s alright. May I?” He steps closer to you, his arm outstretched into an embrace. But before you can say anything else, he playfully flicks your forehead.

“Hey!” You protest, but you can feel the soft chuckle rumble in his chest as you pull into his embrace. His breath tickles your skin, and you can’t help but smile, knowing how much loved you are.

“I only ask for you not to prank me like that again. I'm already growing enough white hairs because of you.”

Rafayel:

You instantly regretted ever finishing that sentence.

You watched the way the light in his eyes disappear. His heart seemed to crack, threatening to shatter into a million pieces as the pain washed over his face.

His nebula eyes looked at you in disbelief, unable to comprehend the words that just left your lips were true. The brush in his hand slipped from his fingers as his whole body went limp. His lips trembled, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to break through.

“I-was it....do you really want that?” His voice shook, the words barely escaping past his lips. His chest tightened, hoping he didn’t hear the answer he dreads. “Was there something I’ve done, cutie?” His gaze drops, his lips pursing as he tries to recall something, anything, that would explain what he did wrong. “I can do better..we can work it out together, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong..” His eyes were pleading, desperate.

You could see the depth of his pain and the way he blamed himself, even though you knew that this was just a prank. It broke your heart, and you couldn’t keep going, the guilt was suffocating enough. “Raf, no! You did nothing wrong. It was just a prank!”

His mouth fell open in shock. “...what?” His voice was weak, a soft gasp escaping him as he dramatically collapsed back onto the couch. “Pranks are supposed to be funny! That wasn’t funny!” He groaned, relief flooding through him. “Dun ever do that to me again, hmph..” He mumbles, his hand still over his face as he tries to collect himself. “Hold me..”

He lets you pull him into your arms, his cheek pressing into your shoulder, the weight of his body finally relaxing as he feels you close. He let out a deep breath as if he were holding it in for too long. “I thought my heart stopped for a moment, cutie..” He murmurs, “Promise me we’ll work through everything?”

Sylus:

“Sweetie-” Sylus’s voice echoes at the front door. You were already in the living room, arms crossed, while you tried to keep your face unreadable.

“We should break up.” You say flatly.

He flinched at the sudden words. The small box he had wanted to surprise you with was clutched tightly as he tried to process your words. His face was in disbelief. His eyes searched for yours, trying to find some sign of a joke. But your expression was cold and unreadable. He set the box down on the table, his movements felt too slow.

“Is there a particular reason you feel this way?” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn’t answer right, the silence in the air was heavy, suffocating even. He took a step forward towards you, hesitant. “Is there any way I can fix this?” The hurt in his eyes was palpable as he slowly reached for you, cupping your face gently. His thumb brushed over your cheek, searching for any sign that could give him an answer.

But you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You felt the weight of his touch, the weight of his words, and the devastation in his eyes. “Sylus..I’m sorry, it was just a prank..”

His breath hitched, his thumb stopping as he froze. His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply as he’d been hit by a wave of relief. “What will I do with you..” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes fluttered open slowly, amusement flicking across his face. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” He asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head quickly, guilt flooding you. “No Sylus. You’re perfect. I’m sorry.. It was funnier in my head. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You had me worried there for a second, sweetie,” Sylus speaks quietly. His fingers graze your hair as he pulls you into an embrace. His lips press softly to the top of your head, and the fear of losing you again still lingers in him.

Caleb:

“Hey pipsqueak, what’re you in the mood for? I’m thinking maybee something savory, or how about something spicy?” He glanced over at you. His warm smile was infectious, as always, but you tried to stay strong. His expression faltered when he saw the look on your face.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore. Let's break up.”

Each word stung, his smile immediately disappearing. He blinked, his mind racing to process what you had just said, the grip on the wooden spoon tightened without him realizing it. Maybe he didn’t hear you right, yeah definitely.

“Sorry..maybe you want something sweet? Or if you’re tired of my cooking, how about takeout?” He tilts his head, refusing to believe it.

“No, Caleb. Let's break up.” The words felt sharper this time, slicing his heart into a million little pieces that no one could ever pick up. You could see it in his eyes, his entire world was crumbling. Every muscle in his body tensed as his breath caught in his throat. His face faltered for a second, his brow furrowing deeply as he set the spoon down with trembling hands.

“Pip-Y/n..where is this coming from?” His voice is quiet now as he takes a step closer. His purple eyes were a mix of confusion and hurt, his hands remained stiff by his sides, almost as if they didn’t know what to do. “Hey..what’s going on? Talk to me, please..” His voice cracked at the end, desperate.

Even though there was only a few inches of distance between you, it felt like the distance was growing further and further. “I can fix it..please..just tell me what to do..anything..” His chest tightened as his mind spun in a thousand different directions. What did he do? What went wrong?

You could see the pain written across his face, a mixture of panic, disbelief, and heartache that made yours ache. Without thinking, you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Caleb’s body was stiff at first as if he didn’t know how to respond, but once he felt your arms tighten, he exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry, Caleb..I shouldn’t have said that. It was just a stupid prank,” you whispered. However, the words didn’t sink in right away. His body remained frozen, still processing everything.

He pulled back slightly, his hands shaking as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Really? You’re not leaving?”

You nodded, “I’m not. I love you, and I won’t ever leave you.”

He exhaled sharply, his body finally relaxing against you as the tension in his body began to unwind. “You almost got me there, pipsqueak...” He let out a weak laugh, his voice still shaky as he pressed a soft kiss to your head. “Maybe you should stick to cilantro-flavored toothpaste pranks next time..”

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta readers for helping me with this ! @ilovemitsuya and @pomegranatepip MWAH ₊˚⊹ᰔ

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist , Pg.2

[yougavememyopia]

YOU WRITE CRYING MEN SO WELL ITS CRAZY ☹️🙏🙏 CAN WE PLS PLS PLS GET SMUT FOR CRYBABY!YANDERE OMG

Of course :) Pt.1. Pt.2.

Tags: oral (reader receiving), pillow humping, mommy kink (a bit obvious lol), poor communication

Yandere crybaby, who, despite all of his perverted fantasies, would be shy to take things further with you. You'd have to coax it out of him with gentle reassurance. Petting the top of his head, kissing his pouty lips, nibbling on his neck. Slowly drawing lewd whimpers and whines from him. Slowly making him rock hard for you.

But then, at the last frustrating second, where you start to take off his shirt, he'd stop you. Embarrassment with a mix of insecurity in his eyes. Choked up tears and weak excuses muttered from his lips making your heart flutter at the sight of his beet-redded face. Your fingers wiped his cheek, his lips planting kisses against your palm in return. Taking a few seconds to calm down his breathing, he bore his eyes into yours.

"We don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, honey."

Your kind words eased him. But he knew you were bound to get tired of him being a pathetic crying mess. Truth was, he was scared— afraid that you'll hate him if you saw what was underneath his clothes. Afraid that if he didn't satisfy you, you would surely get rid of him. Leave him all alone to rot. Be with someone who was far better than him.

He couldn't let that happen.

"No, hic... You need relief. I-I can do this! I don't want you to be unsatisfied... Hic! I don't want you to go to anyone else for this. I want you to only look at me. Love me. Only me."

He got down between your legs. Rubbing your knees as he gulped, swallowing the saliva that wanted to spill. He felt sweaty. His heart drummed against his ears as tears fell from his eyes.

"Are you sure?" You confirmed it with him one last time, unable to say no to his cute, innocent face. He sniffled as he nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to do this. Not only because he could finally taste you, but also to make himself useful. He wanted to be good for you. He craved your approval; he needed it to survive.

He felt nervous. He had no idea what to do when you hesitantly pulled down your underwear. Just staring at your private...

His pants already creamed just by the sight of your bare pussy. He bit his lip hard, hiding a whimper from the shock of pleasure traveling up his body. Blinking and blinking, the gears in his head turning.

Your brows furrowed in concern. "I don't think we should, um..."

You lost your train of thought when his shaky breaths fanned your mound. An unsure tongue licking the length of your sensitive front. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Already overwhelmed enough by all his other senses. Your familiar smell, your divine taste, your dripping flesh— all driving him crazier. The noise you made caused his stomach to churn.

He pulled away, rubbing his cheek to the soft plush of your thigh instead. "Mmgh, f-feels too good. I..." His hand covered a mewl. "I love you so much..."

"I love you too, baby. But it's not a big deal if you—"

You were cut off again, this time by a surge of good shock shooting through you. He delved in, started to eat you out like a starved man. Licking, sucking, nibbling. His hands grabbing your hips so he could push his tongue further into your hole. Sinful squelching noises filled the room. His nose pressing against your clit with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't holding back any longer, hiding his face between your thighs.

He slowly began to move his hips. His poor overstimulated cock rubbing against the couch. Aroused again with a fever. His whole body burned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he kept going. Movements only getting rougher and faster while you placed your hand on top of his head. Holding his head and bucking into his mouth, chasing release.

You had no idea he could be like this. His docile attitude replaced with something feral. He was moaning like he was in pain. Feeding on your juices to quench his thirst. His hips bumped against the furniture as if he wasn't capable of controlling it. Tears ruining his pretty face even more.

It was only a matter of time before you finished. Your back arching and your toes curling with a loud groan. "Ahhh... Fuck, fuck! Where did all that come from?"

"I-I just want you to be happy... Did I make you happy? Was I good? Are you gonna stay with me? You won't abandon me... right?!"

You sighed, a small smile forming on your face. He clearly had some things to work out. Always needing constant comfort; begging for you to own him, capture him, claim him as yours. He wished he could say the words without tearing up. Ask you to tie him down to your bed and just play with his hair.

He got comfortable with your body. Learning to use his slender fingers and even started to make eye contact when he kitten-licked your sensitive nub. Sobbing happy tears when you slowly stroked his hair. He felt enveloped by your love. Surrounded by you.

The liquid streamed down to his chin. Cries of joy vibrating against your heat while he worked harder to drive you to the edge. Half-lidded eyes staring up at yours as his fingers slid in and out of you rhythmically.

"Such a good boy, aren't you, hon? Yes. Yes, you are. You're my good boy. Ah, fuck, I'm gonna—"

Sometimes, the best way to help him calm down was to let him cuddle up to your chest. Sitting on your lap, head under your shirt— engulfed by your sweet sweet smell— lips moving around your breasts. Licking hot stripes around your areola, sucking on your nipple like a pacifier.

He'd start to get more greedy for your approval. Asking if he did a good job for a basic task, like folding his clothes and putting them away. Or if he was a good boy for not crying when you went to the bathroom. He was adorable— looking at you like a lost child, wanting for you to take care of him.

He couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. Pleading and pleading for you to stay when you wanted to hang out with your friends. You pecked his lips, "Be good, baby. I'll be back in 2 hours. Promise."

He whimpered when you pulled away from him. Yet obeying your words as he should. Plopping down to your shared bed to sniff your scent from the sheets. 2 hours, he could do that.

He started weep pathetically. The droplets soaking your blanket. He cried over far more stupid things than this. A crybaby. That was really all he was. He took your pillow, hugging it tightly as if it would disappear at any moment. His eyes closed shut. Whispering, "Haah... I wish you were hugging me... I wish you were here..."

He tried to be a good boy. Tried to keep himself in check. Tried oh-so hard to stop thinking about it. But eventually, the problem in his pants started to hurt. One of his trembling legs dropped over your pillow, while he found the rewarding angle that gave him the most friction. His hand sneaked into his pocket to grab a pair of hidden underwear, there in case of... emergencies.

You came back to your room to retrieve a forgotten item. Just at the right time— catching him grinding against your pillow mindlessly. Your underwear pressed tightly against his nose as he inhaled and exhaled a wail. Moaning louder and more high-pitched than you've ever heard.

"Nghh... m-mommy... Why...? Why did you have to— hic— leave your poor babyboy....?"

You grinned. The newfound information was a treasure. You always wondered if he was into that title. Too timid to talk to you about things like that. He was just adorable. You could hear how close he was when his voice shook. When he chanted your name as if it would ease the pain. Brows crumpled, and sweat rolled down the skin of his forehead.

"Mommy..." His tongue darted out to lick the heavenly taste off the fabric of your panties. His hips rutted to the pillow until a sad, unsatisfying orgasm hit him. He cried miserably. Nose stuffed while he breathed out whimpers. Drool mixed with other liquids pooled down to splatter the pillow. An unusual angry huff coming from his lips. "Why aren't you here?!? Whywhywhywhy!"

Only if he had opened his eyes.

[kaciidubs]

Talk Dirty [Like You Need Love]

This song has me thinking heavily about expanding this into a fuller fic, so if people end up liking it, maybe I'll go ahead and finish it further! ✧ Summary: Chris was a great friend, picking you up from work whenever you had a late shift - so, it was only fair that you wanted to repay him. ✧  ✧ Word Count: 3.5k ✧ Warnings: Biker!AU, friends to ???, smut, slight dom! Chris, open ended ✧  ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧  ✧ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as Baby, Good Girl, Pretty, Chris is referred to as Baby, Channie ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

The streetlights came and went in intermittent strobes, passing over the two of you as his motorcycle hummed along the sparsely occupied street.

Your arms were wrapped securely around his waist just as he’d taught you, the warmth of your body against his back combating the chill of the crisp night air - he really wished he hadn’t forgotten his hoodie in his rush to pick you up.

“Are you cold?” 

As if reading his mind, your voice floated through the comms of his helmet and he shook his head, “I’m alright, baby - don’t worry about me.”

Of course, you weren’t easily swayed - it was a quality he loved about you, no matter how much he preferred to be the one to look out for everyone else, you were always there to double back on him with undeterrable determination; proved by the way you leaned a little more against his back.

He wouldn’t have thought twice about your sweet gesture if it weren’t for the shifting of your arms, your hands slowly splayed against his torso.

“I always worry about you, Chris…” Your voice was soft, dripping with sweet honey as your right hand wandered its way higher, following the soft defined path of his chest underneath his shirt. “It’s hard not to, if I’m honest.”

He took a short breath, unsure if this was truly happening or if his mind was playing tricks on him and twisting your intentions to fit his deep seated desires.

That is, until your left hand carefully danced its way to his thigh, sitting nicely against the cotton of his sweatpants.

“You always do so much for everyone else- do so much for me,” your hand flexed, nails pressing lightly against his thigh, “I just wanna do something for you in return, you know?”

The bike slowed to a roll as you reached a stoplight, Chris keeping the balance with his otherwise unoccupied leg while taking the opportunity to hold onto the outside of your own thigh.

“Be careful with your words, baby - you might give me the wrong idea.”

“Are my actions not enough?” You murmured, inching your hand higher, fingertips brushing along the inseam of his sweats, “Should I do more, Channie?”

His hand left the brake clutch to wrap around your wrist, electricity flowing through your veins like a completed circuit. “You shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

“But I want this, I need this.”

Your hand squeezed, your voice filling his head like the intoxicating lull of a siren’s call.

“I need you.”

Green.

Chris tapped your thigh, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine when you seamlessly went back to holding onto him just like he taught you; arms around his waist, your body against his back.

The ride to his apartment felt like second nature with you - much like other things he did with you, if he were honest with himself - and the moment he pulled into his parking spot, his movements only felt more natural.

Switch engine off. Kickstand down.

Your hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders as you eased yourself off of his motorcycle, and by the time your touch left him, Chris hopped from his seat with learned grace - his hands unbuckling and taking off his helmet in record time.

By the time your own helmet was off, cradled in your arms, his intense gaze caught your eyes, locking you in a stare off that said more than words could convey, yet their true meaning would be lost to memory with what left his lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He breathed, “Tell me right now and I’ll take you home, and we can pretend none of this happened - just, tell me.”

“Chris,” his name fluttered from your lips like butterfly wings, “I meant every word, I’m sure, I’m so sure-”

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours - the warmth of his palm settling on your cheek in a hold that dared your knees to give out from underneath you - but as fast as they’d appeared, they vanished, leaving you dazedly blinking up at deep brown eyes.

“C’mon.”

The journey up to his apartment was a blur; the melodic chime of the front door’s lock welcoming you to the final stage of your decision as he ushered you through the doorway.

Shoes haphazardly kicked off next to another pile of pairs and helmets stored on a shelf, the empty living room was graced with your presence for what felt like half a second before you were finally where you needed to be.

Chris’s room was a place you’d only been inside of a handful of times, if not to stick your head in to announce your arrival when hanging out with his roommates, then to visit whenever he had a new snippet of a song he wanted to share; there wasn’t a chance for a tour then, and there certainly wouldn’t be a tour now.

With a subtle flick of a switch, the once dark room was suddenly bathed in a dim glow from the led lights lining the ceiling - warm and welcoming, much like the arms that wrapped around you from behind, followed by a soft pair of lips you were quickly getting used to pressing against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His hold grew tighter as his lips ventured higher - a dotted line of kisses, a brush of his breath against the back of your ear, followed by the ghost of his lips along the shell. 

“Are you still sure?”

Your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting to sigh out words evoked from the fantasies of your deepest desires, “I’m yours.”

He turned you around, and for the first time you were able to truly appreciate the feeling of his lips against your own - soft, likely from the myriad of lip care products your friends tease him for, a sensation you could find yourself craving every day and never growing tired of in the end.

You kissed him back with fervor, taking the liberty of cupping the line of his jaw with one hand while the other cradled the back of his neck, the faint curls of his hair tickling your fingertips.

Chris was the first to pull away, gifting you a fleeting peck when you tried in vain to follow him, just to reach overhead and tug his shirt up and off before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. However, he barely gave you the chance to admire the view as his hands went to help you out of your hoodie while your own hands hastily went to tug up your shirt in the messy, frantic process.

Two articles down, the warmth of his hands were now free to meet your waist and his lips were on yours once more; his hold tightening as he took a step forward, nudging and guiding you backward until the backs of your legs met the edge of his bed. Obliging to his silent request, you sat down, using the strength in your arms to wiggle yourself up enough to lay comfortably on the full sized mattress and welcome the weight of him on top of you until it wasn’t.

Looking up, you were met with his heated stare, all but devouring you with his eyes as he took in the view - though, you figured you fared the same way when your eyes ventured down, following the strong slope of his shoulders before taking in the sight of his chest.

It wasn’t a view you hadn’t seen before thanks to his aversion of shirts in his own home - granted, it was his apartment, so you couldn’t fault him for the times he’d come out of his room to see you happily chatting away with his roommates unbeknownst to him - but you could now appreciate the details you wouldn’t have taken in otherwise such as defined pectorals and the smallest beginnings of abs against his otherwise soft stomach.

Ending the unintentional standoff, Chris lent forward, his fingertips just barely grazing your lower stomach as they went to the button of your jeans, “Can I?”

“Please.”

The corner of his lips ticked up but he ducked his head before you could see the smirk blossom, though you couldn’t find yourself to care once your jeans were undone, lifting your hips to help him shuffle the garment down the length of your legs and watching him give them the same fate as your shirts.

“These too?” He mused with a teasing lilt, eyes flicking from your own to the plain black panties you wore.

A short huff brushed past your lips, an unamused pout pursuing them. “Chris.”

The sound of his delighted giggles bounced off the walls, reducing the heat of arousal to a nice simmer that your nerves greatly appreciated - that is, until his fingers hooked underneath the waistband and slowly pulled them off; the sensation of his knuckles dragging along your thighs drawing a soft gasp from you.

It wasn’t long until they were down your legs, past your feet, and dropped off the edge of the bed, leaving you entirely bare from the waist down.

“Fuck…” He breathed, propping his knee on the bed as his hands slid up from your calves to the backs of your knees, caressing your skin before gently bringing them up and out - exposing your pussy to his pure delight. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

A wave of heat washed over you followed by an embarrassed whimper, “Chris, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Looking up, he cocked his head slightly, “You said you were mine, which means I’m allowed to compliment what’s mine, yeah?” He bent down, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your knee softly, “You belong to me, right, baby?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, his words working like a spell against your lust addled mind.

“I belong to you.” You breathed softly, melting into his hypnotizing gaze.

A pleased hum vibrated through him as he dipped his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, his lips brushing against your skin, “Good girl.”

His kisses trailed higher and higher, growing messier and messier as he went - a nip here, a suck there, open mouthed and worshiping until he reached your pussy.

Just as he was about to dive in face first, your hand tugged at his hair, effectively breaking him out of his tunnel vision to give you his undivided attention.

“What’s wrong? Do you wanna stop? I can-”

“No! God, no - it’s just…” You took a deep breath, your bravado escaping you the instant you stopped him, “I want you to eat me out, but I wanna suck your dick too. I wanna make you feel good too, Channie”

“You wanna suck my dick, pretty?” A shiver ran down Chris’s spine at the mere thought, his dick painfully straining underneath his boxer briefs and sweats. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? Words like that coming from a mouth like yours - you’re a fucking dream.”

His presence left from between your legs and part of you felt silly for missing it until you saw him reaching for his sweatpants - even through the black fabric you were able to make out the noticeable bulge tenting the front - the waistband of Calvin Klein nudging you in the right direction of what he wore underneath.

Pushing both articles past his hips, your eyes were immediately glued to the dips in his pelvis - the Adonis belt, a fitting alternate description of his v-line until your attention jumped to a scattering of hair beneath his navel leading to seemingly maintained pubic hair.

However, your peep show was obscured by his head as he bent forward to take his clothes off the rest of the way, giving you the chance to mentally prepare for the grand reveal. By the time he stood straight again, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left you, your eyes widening as you took him in all his glory - all of the jokes his friends would make now having validity behind their digs.

“I hope that’s a good reaction…” Chris spoke sheepishly, his ears as red as a tomato as he averted his eyes to the side, one hand twitching to cover himself while the other anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Chris,” your soft call was enough to bring his eyes back to you, just in time to see you undoing your bra and tossing it to the floor, “I really want you in my mouth, baby.”

The air of shyness quickly left him as he smirked, making his way back onto the bed, “Say please.”

Reaching forward, your fingers danced along the underside of his jaw before you whispered, “Please?”

It was almost instantaneous in the way you found yourself straddled over his face, his hands massaging the plush of your thighs as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they squished and jiggled under his hold.

You leaned forward, eyes eagerly taking in his dick from the new angle; he was thick, probably an inch over average if you had to guess, with the prettiest veins that begged for your tongue to trace them.

“Don’t force yourself to take me, okay?” He called from the other end, the feeling of his breath against your cunt sending chills down your spine. “I know I’m… y’know, big, so I don’t want you to hurt yourself to make me feel good - you letting me do this is more than enough, baby.”

“I can do it Channie,” spitting into your palm, you graciously took him into your hand with a slow stroke, “I’ll be okay.”

A low groan escaped him, your sudden touch sending him into the stratosphere, “Just- Be careful for me, alright?”

Humming in agreement, you wasted no time in littering his tip in butterfly kisses and kitten licks, slowly getting yourself used to the bittersweet taste of his precum.

“Shit…” Not holding himself back any longer, Chris slid his hands up to your hips before pulling you back onto his mouth, his tongue eagerly diving between your folds as if it were an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

The action made you jolt forward, though you barely moved an inch thanks to his hold on you, your lips parting to let a moan float through.

“Mm, not too loud, baby,” he spoke against your pussy, kissing the hood of your clit, “don’t wanna wake up my roommates, yeah?”

As much as the idea called to something daring within you, you shook your head, using this as an opportunity to take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth; just enough to have the weight settle on your tongue while your hand stroked what you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“There you go.”

With that, he went back to exploring your pussy with his tongue, dipping past your walls every now and then before going back to dancing around your clit - his hands enjoying their new home on the curve of your ass.

To say the feeling of his mouth on you was mind numbing would’ve been the understatement of a lifetime - it was as if he was eating you out in the most respectfully disrespectful way, the sounds of his lips sucking your clit paired with low, breathless moans before he went back to lapping up your arousal was pure debauchery.

You tried your best to be diligent, bobbing your head in time with the curls of his tongue against your slit while your fist used whatever drool that dripped from your lips as lubricant to keep each stroke smooth and slick - your efforts not going in vain by the way his thigh would flex, or the twitch of his hips - but you were quickly falling victim to the pleasure.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he mouthed against your pussy, as if moving even an inch away would be detrimental to his psyche, “could stay here forever.”

The thought had you moaning around his cock, pulling away to give your lungs the reprieve of a full breath, only for a whined exhale to follow suit. “C-Chris, please.”

“Please, what?” Flattening his tongue, he licked a fat stripe up before giving your clit the lightest kiss imaginable, “Gonna come for me, pretty? Is that what you want?”

“N-No,” dropping your face to his thigh, you focused all of your energy into keeping your hand moving, “w-wanna make you come first, just- shit, just slow down a little!”

Chris hummed, feigning deep consideration, “But what if I want you to come for me?” His right hand slid further between your legs, his index finger stroking your fluttering walls with the promise of something more, “You said you wanted to repay me - so, let me make you come.”

Your hips bucked, muscles yearning to press back against the pressure to send you over the edge you were dangerously teetering over. “But-”

“Baby,” the velvet drawl of the pet name earned a pitiful hum in response, “you wanna make me feel good, don’t you?” He felt your head nod against his thigh, huffing out a short chuckle before continuing, “You wanna ‘repay’ me for everything I do for you, right?”

“Yes.” You sighed out, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his thumb replacing his finger in favor of toying with your clit.

“Well, guess what?” Dragging his thumb up, he pressed it against your slit, “Watching you come for me- Feeling you come for me is all I could ever want from you,” slowly pushing his thumb past your walls, he ghosted his lips against your inner thigh, “show me how good I’m making you feel, baby - do it for me, please.”

He punctuated his plea by swirling his tongue around your clit once more, thrusting his thumb in time with each flick while his left hand held your hip tightly.

Your mouth fell open, a moan fighting its way through your vocal chords only to come out as choked gasps, “Ch-ah- Channie- Fuck- Channie p-please-”

Pressing his thumb in to the knuckle, Chris wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, humming out a low moan that proved to be the final straw to push you over the edge.

“Chris- C-Chris-!” Lifting your head, you put your mouth over your arm in hopes of muffling the airy moans escaping you, your vision blurring behind pleasure-fueled tears as he worked you through your orgasm.

His thumb slipped from your entrance to make room for his tongue to lap up your cum, drinking you up like a tall glass of water after a day in the sun.

It didn’t take long for you to catch your bearings, going to move away from his face until his hands tightened on your hips in silent challenge, a disgruntled grunt rising from your pure audacity of interrupting him.

“Channie, ‘s too much,” you whined breathlessly, wrenching your hand away from his - still hard - dick in favor of pushing yourself up onto your arms, “c-can’t take it, baby, please.”

Pulling away with a lewd slurp, Chris heaved a heavy breath, combating the lightheadedness of his tunnel vision while you carefully maneuvered yourself away from him - shuffling around to hover your head over a pillow before collapsing in the empty space, your body gratefully welcoming the cool sheets against your skin.

Bated breaths danced in the otherwise quiet atmosphere, Chris’s gaze locked on the ceiling as his lust-fogged brain tried to make sense of what just happened between the two of you.

“Channie?”

His heart fluttered at your soft call of his name, turning his head just to come across a sight that made his breath catch; you, his friend, laying beside him looking beautifully ruined with the golden afterglow of your orgasm that he gave you emanating from your body.

He tentatively licked his lips, goosebumps rising as your taste still lingered in his mouth, “Yeah, baby?”

“I still wanna make you come.” You murmured softly, eyes blinking at him so innocently it almost felt wrong that it made his dick twitch at the sight. “I still owe you, after all.”

Chris huffed out a chuckle, lifting himself onto his forearm before hoisting himself above you, settling his hips between your legs as he caged you in with his arms - this was a sight he could get used to.

“Instead of making this out to be you repaying a debt, how about we turn it into a ‘thank you’ gift, hm?” Leaning his head down, he brushed his nose against yours, “You thank me for the ride and the orgasm,” his lips ghosted against your own, “then I thank you for thanking me.”

“Chris, that won’t make any sense,” your voice was barely a whisper, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, “if you thank me, I’ll just thank you back - we’ll be in a loop.”

“We’ll work out the details later, then.” He murmured before leaning forward, catching your lips with his and sharing your taste off of his tongue.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @snowy-violet @bethanysnow

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[parfaitblogs]

north star ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you're up late doing an assignment, and spencer reid has a nightmare. 

pairing: spencer reid x uni student!reader genre: comfort  tags: post prison reid. & his trauma. & his fears. casual nudity (showering together). hurt/angst but its secondhand. which is what we call empathy... yes... reader mentioned being hurt in a nightmare. word count: 2.3k a/n: i got a request recently with a similar sort of premise to this, so while it isn't exact this is indeed for you... north star is one of my all time favourite searows songs. here's to being spencer reid's north star. and also a university student awake at 4am. 

Spencer Reid had not slept in his own bed in three weeks.

The couch in the centre of his apartment had become a constant pile of blankets and pillows, a — probably permanent — indent of his body pressed into the cushions. The coffee table a littering of books he had read through, contact solution, and, when he wasn't reading, his glasses. Always.

You had gotten used to sleeping alone in an apartment somebody else was residing in after the first few days, leaving the bedroom door open so you could hear the sound of pages of a book turning, and faintly see the silhouette of your boyfriend out in the living room. It was comforting enough that it willed you to sleep, though the longing for him to be beside you never dulled.

Tonight was no different. In fact, the only slight change from your usual routine, was the fact that you were the one still awake, and he was fast asleep. Albeit, it was four in the morning, and you most certainly should not be up. 

Your face was illuminated uncomfortably by the blue light of your laptop, a knee beneath your chin as you stared blankly at the half written essay in front of you. You were tired, and all you wanted was to be in bed. Unfortunately, your university had the worst deadlines imaginable, and three o'clock in the afternoon was creeping up on you and this unfinished assignment fast. 

Your head lifted at the sound of blankets rustling, expecting to be met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Spencer Reid. Instead, he was sat upright, blanket covering his silhouette, though not hiding the heaving of his chest; the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

"Spence?" you called out from his desk that you were currently residing at, still slightly unsure if he was actually awake — he had sleep walked one of the earlier nights. 

He didn't respond. You watched as he hunched over, and you could make out the action of his fingers burying in his hair. 

Assignment be damned, you pushed the wheelie chair back and stood up, hands fidgeting with one another as you headed over to the couch. 

"Spencer?" you said his name again as you hesitantly got closer, not wanting to startle him too much if he was about to start sleep walking. 

His head lifted, and you felt your heart slow in relief when his eyes met yours. Short lived relief, however, for the soft glow of the lamp across the room illuminated him just enough for you to catch the glassiness in his eyes, the sticking of his hair to his forehead from sweat, and the frightened look on his face. 

"Hey," you greeted, quietly, one step after the other carrying you over to him, and you crouched down in front of the couch. 

"Nightmare," he muttered, simply, voice hoarse. 

"Ah," you nodded in recognition, hands flexing by your side with the need to touch him. "You wanna talk about it?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but you didn't press any further for a response as he zoned out on the coffee table behind you for a few moments. When his gaze finally landed back on you, he stared blankly at your face, finding the words inside his brain. 

"They hurt you," he managed to choke out successfully, voice heavy with whatever was lodged in his throat. 

You didn't have to ask who they were, your eyes flickering in acknowledgement of what he was telling you. "They can't," you settled on saying. 

"I know," was his response, eyes dropping to his lap, the blanket falling from his shoulders as his posture hunched over even more. "But they did. And I couldn't do anything about it."

You despised being speechless in front of him. The silence layering over the two of you in a dimly lit room, a heavy blanket translating your lack of words for what he was going through. He always knew what to say to you, and yet, Spencer Reid being traumatised from prison was a concept you could never seem to grasp no matter how hard you tried. Not fully, at least. What on Earth is there to say to somebody who was having nightmares like this? What comfort could you provide?

You hesitated, then reached out, clasping one of his hands within your own, bringing it to your face. Every action was cautious on his end, but you managed to splay his fingers across your cheek, palm resting against the skin. Gently, for despite everything that had changed about Spencer in prison, his gentleness for you had not.

"I'm okay," you whispered to him, and it was then that he registered what you were trying to do. 

He carried more weight in his hand, committing the feeling of your warm, active skin to memory. His fingers stretched and found the pulse of your neck, for no reason other than to feel it beat against the tip of them. It was minutes of sitting in this silence, his eyes firmly shut, while yours studied his face. Every parting of his lips, every irregular breath he took in and exhaled, every slight twitch in his eyebrow. Everything. 

When he finally opened his eyes, breathing a little less erratic and gaze a lot less afraid, you spoke. "Shower?" 

Wordlessly he nodded his head, and allowed you to lift him to his feet, trudging after you with short steps, that you waited for patiently. 

It had taken a week for Spencer to shower again upon coming home. And since then, you had needed to be there for every single one. A stark contrast to the man who isolated himself much more now — needing to be able to see you as he showered. He never explained it, but you sort of knew why.

He stripped of his shirt at the same time as you, his torso no longer the palette of purple and yellow it had been weeks ago. Which should be comforting to you. And yet, as his bruises faded, so did his already dampened spark. The excitement of coming home wearing off, as he was forced to face everything he had endured for a quarter of a year. 

And you tried not to hold it against him, or even be upset about it. It is not his fault existing everyday has become an uphill battle, and it certainly isn't his fault he's horrified of seemingly normal things. But you missed him. It. The light of the man you fell in love with.

The two of you stepped into the shower, in silence, once you had rid yourselves of your clothes, and despite the cold air nipping at your bare skin, you let him stand under the water for as long as he needed to. Visibly watching him sink further into his skeleton, shoulders drooping. He reached for you, hesitantly, and you allowed him to decide where to place his hands. Eventually, one looped around your waist and pressed against the small of your back to step closer to him, the outer water droplets from the showerhead spraying uncomfortably onto your face. Your face scrunched, and your head jerked back, and his lips pulled into a frown. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back, and your heart sank at the frown on his lips. 

"It's okay," you answered, voice soft. "Can I wash your hair?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod, ducking his head down when you reached for shampoo. 

Shaking, your fingers worked lathered shampoo through his hair. Your heart sank at the sight of him, for his shoulders were tensing with every stroke of your fingertips against his scalp. 

"You're stuck in your head," you observed, guiding his head back under the water to rinse the soap out of his locks. 

"Mm," was all he replied with.

"How can I get you out of it?" 

"I can't even get myself out of it," he mumbled.

You don't know what to say. Again. There's only so much you can say to him when he's like this, and even then, most of the time he won't listen. Too overwhelmed with the flashing images of you hurt, usually, the screaming guilt in his brain.

"I'm not hurt, Spence," you decided to tell him instead. 

"I know," he responded, voice pleading, though you knew he wasn't pleading with you. "But I can't get the image of you like that out of my mind."

You fell silent. Again. 

"Sorry," he repeated, his apologising incessant. Though, you knew better than to tell him not to apologise anymore.

Instead, while your fingers worked conditioner through the ends of his hair, you brought up another idea. "How about we go to the roof?"

"It's four in the morning," he murmured. 

"Like that's ever stopped you from doing anything ever," you huffed, and his lips twitched.

"It'll be cold," he argued, watching your shoulders deflate with his second denial of the idea. His own heart dropped. "Yeah, okay. We can go to the roof."

"We don't have to," you said, guiding his head back under the water. "Not if you don't want to."

"I just don't want you to get sick," he replied.

"Don't worry about me."

"I do."

You knew that. It was his constant worry for your wellbeing that led you to these moments.

"Come on."

Stepping out of the shower, you handed him the first towel, wrapping one around yourself afterwards. You picked up both toothbrushes and gave him one of them, leaning against the edge of the sink.

Every movement he now completed was calculated. Hesitant. He was almost completely stationary as he brushed his teeth, if not for the slight shake in his arm with each stroke. But he was staring at you, and it was the kindness in his eyes that kept your heart from falling apart in front of him. 

By the time you had reached the roof, he was a little more conversational, even smiling at your attempt at a joke (though, you were pretty sure that wasn't very genuine).

"Come here," you said, holding your arms out in front of you, walking backwards. He caught up to you, clasping your hands within his own, movement akin to a rag doll as you tugged him closer. 

"No," he protested when you placed his hands on your waist, clocking precisely what you were doing with him within seconds. 

"Yes," you argued, encircling your arms around his neck. "Humour me for a bit."

"I thought we were looking at the stars."

"You thought wrong."

Despite himself and his disdainful grumbling, he let you sway your two bodies, a silent dance amongst the distant, quiet hum of car engines. 

"I don't like dancing," he said, after a few long minutes.

"I know."

"So why did you take me up here to dance?"

The sharp sentences had become a staple in Spencer Reid's speech, though usually unintentional, and usually going unnoticed by him. They still hurt.

"Because," you began, forcing your eyes to fixate on his face, and not the scattering of stars and silhouettes of buildings you could see stretched out behind him. "You're thinking about how much you don't like dancing."

"Yes. I am."

You stilled your bodies and stared at him for a few beats, expectantly, until it rolled over in his brain, and he realised what you were doing. You had, successfully, distracted him from the nightmare. 

He didn't say anything more, but his eyes had softened, and you knew from that he was thankful. Silent communication had become your shared best friend with Spencer.

"I don't know how to stop them," he mumbled, head bowing and unkempt curls covered his face, that you were quick to brush back, hands resting on either side of his jawline. "The nightmares."

"I don't know either," you answered, hating the sound of the words coming out of your mouth. You despised not having all the answers for him, like he probably would for you. "Therapy, I guess."

"I've been doing therapy. Everyday. It isn't helping."

"You've been home less than a month."

"But it isn't getting any better."

Your chest ached, meeting his gaze once again as he snapped his head up on his words. Uncomfortable desperation dressed his face, and it was as though he was crumbling right there in front of you — your hands unable to pick up the shattered pieces quick enough. 

You hadn't dealt with a trauma wound this bad, this fresh, ever. You weren't equipped for that. A university assignment, that sat incomplete in a softly lit apartment, for a degree you were yet to claim, proved that. Spencer knew that. He knew you wouldn't have the answers he needed; they were answers even he didn't have. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "This isn't fair on you."

No, it wasn't. And you don't want to imagine how you would be in his position instead, but you were pretty sure you'd be just as bad, if not worse. 

"Please don't apologise for feeling things," you decided to say instead. "You're allowed to feel things."

"I've been horrible."

"You've been human."

He fell silent at that, and when you were sure he didn't have any other incessant apologies or heartbreaking discoveries to drop on you at — what was now probably — five o'clock in the morning, you offered him your arms. Arms he took, and arms he allowed to wrap him up in an embrace you wanted to die with. 

Silence communicated words you couldn't say to one another. Echoing I love you's ricocheted around in your brain, and you hoped they did in his too. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[lmvari]

do you mind? (repost)

summary. sharing a table with a stranger at a crowded café, only to realize they’re far more interesting than you expected.

characters. xiao, scaramouche, heizou, venti, kazuha x gn!reader (separate)

tags. modern au, fluff, crack

warnings. kind of ooc xiao and kazuha, alcohol in venti's

XIAO

Internally panicking, but he welcomes you to the table with a small nod. He’s the reserved type—the kind to look anywhere but in your general direction just to avoid eye contact. Archons, how many times has he glanced out the window just to stare at that decorative plant? He even counted the leaves.

Social interaction isn’t his strong suit. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re attractive.

If he had his way, he’d sit in silence, letting the passing seconds fill the space between you. But his own discomfort betrays him. Hands fidgeting under the table, fingers tracing the rim of his cup, gaze flickering to anything but you.

He feigns indifference, arms crossed, posture rigid. 

But then—you speak. Because, for some reason, you find him interesting.

You introduce yourself first, then ask for his name.

His heart stumbles in his chest. He’s unsure if it’s from nerves or the sheer absurdity of the situation. Someone willingly trying to talk to him, despite his obvious attempts to fade into the background.

Though his palms are slightly damp from tension, he keeps his voice steady, his expression unreadable. Flat tone. Unwavering gaze. A carefully maintained air of disinterest.

You frown. A subtle shift, but he notices.

That’s a cue, isn’t it? A signal that you’ll leave him alone now. That’s what he wanted… right?

Then why does something in his chest sink when you simply nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, offering nothing more?

He exhales quietly. Curses himself. He just lost the chance to get to know you.

But this is the first time someone’s been able to catch his attention. So he thinks of a way to redeem himself.

"Oh. Okay." You say in response to his answer, forcing yourself to sound indifferent. But truthfully, you’re embarrassed.

You spent a whole ten minutes bouncing your leg, debating whether or not you should make the first move, only to be met with disappointment after finally mustering up the courage.

You bite your bottom lip and tap your fingers on the table, falling silent. Now, all you can do is wait for the servers to call your order so you can leave. You seriously don’t want to embarrass yourself further in front of this stranger.

“I, uh...”

A voice cuts through your thoughts.

You don’t assume right away that he’s talking to you, so you keep your gaze averted, pretending not to notice.

Then, a cough. Loud enough that you instinctively glance up in concern.

Your eyes widen slightly when you find him already looking at you.

“Yes?” You ask, taken aback that he was referring to you. There’s a flicker of curiosity in your expression, maybe even a bit of hope.

He hesitates. “…I'm sorry.” His voice is quieter this time, almost unsure. “I didn’t mean to come across as cold earlier.”

The shift in his tone is subtle, but you catch it. Gone is the detached, indifferent edge from before.

You smile, relieved. "No, no, don't worry about it! I get like that sometimes too."

He exhales lightly. Almost as if… reassured. After a beat, he offers a small, hesitant smile in return. It’s brief, but it’s there.

It suits him, you think.

It’s cute that he chose to apologize instead of just letting it be. Most people would’ve moved on, unwilling to make things more awkward. But he didn't.

And then—

"I'm not used to people." He pauses. “…Especially ones like you.”

A beat of silence.

You blink. Wait. What?

His own words seem to register a second too late.

You watch as his shoulders tense slightly, his fingers curling into a loose fist on his lap. The tips of his ears are… pink?

Oh.

Oh.

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was he flirting with you? No way. He doesn’t seem like the flirty type. He’s definitely more socially awkward than you. Maybe he didn’t mean it like that.

But before you can overthink it—

“…If it’s okay with you, may I have your number?”

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

Glares at you menacingly. Like a cat trying to hiss someone away.

Him? Sharing a table? With some random nobody? Absolutely not. This table is his.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his bag on the chair in front of him. A silent warning. Don’t even think about it.

"It's occupied," he deadpans before returning to whatever he was doing.

You, unimpressed, grab his bag and dump it on the table. Then you plop down into the chair, arms crossed, staring him down as if to say: "Try and get me out of this seat, you brat."

His mouth parted slightly, just for a second, before snapping shut. Did you just—? The audacity.

A scoff escapes him as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his glare sharper than ever. His fingers drum against his bicep as he mutters under his breath—something that sounds suspiciously like, "At least you're not completely spineless." Not that he’d ever say it directly.

But since the café is packed and dragging you out by the collar would be frowned upon, he begrudgingly allows it.

For the most part, he ignores you. Or at least, he tries to. You pretend not to notice the irritated glances he throws your way every time you smile at your phone or stifle a laugh.

Then a server approaches.

She sets your drink down and takes a brief look at the two of you. No food orders yet. Her eyes brighten as she leans in slightly, all smiles.

"We actually have a 25% couple's discount for two strawberry shortcakes!"

Silence.

His stare darkens.

He looks at her like she just personally insulted his entire bloodline. If he had one in this universe, anyway. His lips part, undoubtedly to say something cruel enough to make her rethink her entire career.

But before he can, you slap a hand over his mouth.

"That sounds great! We’ll take it!" you chirp, grinning at the waitress as if your life doesn’t currently depend on keeping Scaramouche from verbally eviscerating an innocent employee.

The server’s eyes sparkle with delight as she scribbles down the order. She even hums. 

He looks personally offended.

You heave a sigh as the server finally walks away. Just as you’re about to relax, you feel a vibration against your palm. The glaring stranger is trying to speak, his voice muffled against your hand.

Then, before you can react—

His tongue moves.

He licks your palm.

Slow. Wet. Deliberate.

"Gross!" You yank your hand away, scrubbing it furiously against his sleeve.

He swats you off instantly, recoiling like you just infected him with the plague. "Get your germs off of me!" he snaps.

"You're the one who just licked my hand!" you retort, scandalized.

His scowl deepens. His expression alone speaks volumes.

"The hell was that for? First, you hog my table—"

"I wasn’t hogging it, we needed to share!"

"—interrupting my peace with your presence—"

"I was minding my own business!"

"—and then you have the absolute audacity to make us out as some kind of couple?!"

"Shut up, they might hear you! We’ll lose the discount!" you hiss, glancing around in case the staff overheard. The people in the vicinity gave looks of concern at your direction.

He scoffs. "You have some nerve."

You roll your eyes. So dramatic. Acting like you just ruined his life.

"I had to grab the opportunity. It’s strawberry shortcake."

He clicks his tongue. "That’s your excuse?"

"It’s strawberry shortcake," you repeat as if that alone explains everything.

He huffs, crossing his arms. "Fine. Go eat your stupid cake."

"You don’t want some?"

"I hate cakes."

You blink. Who the hell hates cake?

"Why?"

His eyes narrow. "Why? Because I hate them. I hate sweets in general. Life isn’t sweet. Life is full of bitterness and sorrow. I don’t get how people manage to laugh in this world. It’s annoying."

…Wow. That escalated.

How did a conversation about shortcakes turn into a monologue about the inherent misery of existence?

"What the hell? Who hurt you?" you mutter.

"My mother."

You suck in a sharp breath. 

The words are so blunt, so casually spoken, that it takes you a second to process. Your lips twitch. No. You shouldn’t laugh.

But the longer you stare at his deadpan face, the harder it is to hold back. A chuckle slips out. Then another.

Hey, this guy is kind of funny. He's growing on you.

He gives you a baffled look like you’re the crazy one for finding humor in his trauma dump.

His brows furrow, and for a brief second, his gaze lingers—not in irritation, but in something else. Something almost mesmerized. He mutters something too quiet to catch before looking away, resting his head on his palm.

You inhale deeply, composing yourself. "Fine. I'll eat both cakes, then. I'm the one paying anyway."

He doesn’t respond, just glares at nothing in particular.

Minutes later, the same cheerful server returns with a tray of two servings of strawberry shortcake. Just as you reach for your wallet—

A hand beats you to it.

The stranger slaps down his own cash before you can even open your bag.

The server’s grin widens. "Ah, paying for the date? How chivalrous!" she chimes, her voice far too amused, before skipping away.

You freeze. Wait.

Did he just let her think that?

Your gaze snaps to him, utterly bewildered. He doesn’t even deny it—just grabs one of the plates and starts stabbing the cake with his fork.

"I thought you said you don’t like sweets."

"That’s right," he mutters before taking a grumpy bite.

You narrow your eyes. "Then why—"

He chews, swallows, and then shrugs, avoiding your gaze.

"Would be a real waste of my money if I didn’t enjoy it with you."

HEIZOU

Has been watching you since you entered the café. Not in a creepy way, just subtle, observant, like he’s solving a case. And wow you are stunning. The way your eyes scan the room, looking for an open seat, tells him you’re about to approach him.

He makes his move first.

"Over here!" he waves, voice warm and inviting, like he's an old friend waiting for you. You hesitate, confused. Do you know this guy? But with no other seats available, you accept with a small, grateful smile.

Big mistake. Or maybe the best decision you’ve made today.

Because once you sit, he talks. And flirts. And teases. And somehow, he already knows things about you.

Will ask you all sorts of questions: What's your name? Your age? Your birthday? Your favorite color? Any pets? Exes?

Even taking guesses as to what your answers might be. and he got them all right, if not, then close. But every now and then, he throws in something completely unexpected: 

"What's your ideal type? Is it me?"

"Aside from being pretty, what do you do for a living?"

"Have you ever committed a crime before? Because now you have."  He says while clutching his chest. 

You nearly choke on your drink. Heizou just grins, clearly enjoying himself.

"Alright, your turn. You can interrogate me now," he offers, eyes gleaming with amusement.

And so you do. Because he’s interesting. Charming. Smart. Too smart. And when he leans in slightly, studying your features like he’s committing them to memory, you feel yourself getting drawn in, too.

Heizou hums in thought. "You’ve got the kind of face that belongs in a painting," he muses. "I’d describe it more, but I’d rather see how flustered you get first."

You roll your eyes, trying (and failing) to suppress a smile.

He'd be the type to reach out and take small bites of your food while chatting. He does it so shamelessly that you're impressed, so you just let him.

This boy is so confident with himself, flirting so casually like it's second nature.

He wouldn't go as far as to touch you, of course. He knows his limits and will keep his hands to himself. But he acts so relaxed and friendly with you that you think maybe he's just playing you.

You’re not dumb. You know he’s interested in you.

It’s not like he’s being subtle about it, either. The lingering glances, the teasing smirks, the way his eyes light up whenever you react to his words. It’s obvious.

And sure, you feel the same way. But still. 

Is this how he always approaches strangers? Does he flirt for fun, or does he actually mean to follow through? How many people have fallen for his tricks before?

A thoughtful hum breaks your train of thought. Heizou taps his chin lightly, then suddenly snaps his fingers. A habit you’ve noticed ever since you sat down.

"Your expression tells me you’re doubting my motives. Correct?"

You blink in surprise. Then chuckle softly, shaking your head. Damn, he’s good.

"That’s right. A point for you, detective."

He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Funny you say that. Being a detective is my full-time job."

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He never mentioned that before. But now it all makes sense. The way he reads you like an open book, the way he asks questions so effortlessly, the way he makes it feel like you’re being studied and he’s enjoying every second of it.

"That’s quite… attractive." You admit, cheeks warming slightly.

Heizou leans back in his chair, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. "You think so?" His grin widens, but there’s a new glint in his gaze now.

"Then allow me to clear up any lingering doubts, sweetheart." He tilts his head slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip.

"I do plan on pursuing you."

Oh.

Your heart stumbles. You were not prepared for him to be that straightforward.

Heizou watches your reaction, clearly amused. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head. "Only a true detective can crack the case of this heart theft, you know."

A teasing pause. Then, the final blow.

"And my prime suspect… is you."

VENTI

When you approach him, the faint yet unmistakable scent of alcohol lingers in the air. He’s drunk. In the middle of the day. At a café.

Wait. Do they even serve alcohol here?

His head rests lazily on his folded arms, eyelids heavy, lips slightly parted. If it weren’t for the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders, you’d think he was fast asleep. Beside him, a humble coffee cup sits suspiciously untouched. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you lean in for a peek.

Yep. It’s alcohol.

How the hell did he sneak that in? More importantly, how has no one caught him yet? You glance around, half-expecting an employee to scold him, but they just pass him by like he’s invisible. Maybe he’s a regular here.

Deciding not to wake him, you quietly settle into the seat across from him, giving him space. 

Then, without warning, he jolts awake.

"Oh! Hello, stranger!"

He’s suddenly wide awake. No sluggish blinking, no groggy confusion, just pure, unbothered energy. You flinch at the unexpected enthusiasm.

He doesn’t ask why you’re here. He doesn’t even bother to ask your name. Instead, he jumps straight into conversation as if you’re an old friend who’s been here all along.

And somehow, you go along with it.

With an animated grin, he launches into the most ridiculous stories you’ve ever heard.

"Earlier, I saw this red-haired guy absolutely demolish some blue-haired guy in a fight. It was spectacular! Ehe~!"

You blink. Excuse me?

That’s just one of the things he shares. He never runs out of things to say. Wild, chaotic, oddly fascinating things. Like?? Does he see stuff like that on a daily basis?

And despite nearly passing out five minutes ago, he speaks so effortlessly that you start questioning if he was even drunk to begin with.

Like Heizou, he will also steal some of the pastries you ordered, albeit in a more subtle manner. He thinks you don't notice this lol.

"You've got fine taste in sweets, stranger!" he hums, twirling a fork between his fingers. "Tell me, what's your opinion on wine?"

You blink at the sudden shift in topic but answer with an amused smile. "I don’t really know much about it. I just drink whatever I feel like."

Venti gasps dramatically, "Hah, I thought so! I cou—"

His sentence is abruptly cut off by a hiccup. You barely suppress a laugh as you slide a glass of water toward him.

"Whoops! My bad!" He lets out a bubbly giggle, taking the water with a flourish. After downing a few sips, he clears his throat with an exaggerated ahem.

"As I was saying—" He pauses for effect. "If you're interested in wine, I’d be delighted to educate you! I’d say I’m an expert.”

You tilt your head playfully. "I can tell."

His eyes twinkle with mischief. "But if you're not..."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper.

"I'm still very interested in having a drink with you sometime. You’re quite the gorgeous stranger, you know."

Before you can fully process the compliment, he winks. Smooth, confident, entirely shameless.

"So," he muses, resting his chin in his palm.

“What do you say about keeping in touch?"

KAZUHA

Kazuha is probably the most normal one out of the bunch. No glares, no drunken ramblings, no interrogation-like questioning. Just a warm, endearing smile as he gestures toward the empty seat across from him.

He even stands up, gently pulling your chair back for you. A small but thoughtful gesture. One that makes your heart skip just a little.

"Please, have a seat." His voice is soft, and smooth, like a passing breeze on a summer afternoon.

As you settle in, he strikes up a light conversation, asking about your day with genuine curiosity. He listens intently, nodding along, occasionally offering small comments that make you feel at ease.

And unlike a certain maroon-haired flirt or a wine-loving bard, instead of stealing your food, he offers you his. With a slight nudge, he pushes his plate toward you.

"Would you like to try some?" His expression is hopeful.

You shake your head, feeling too shy to accept. "Oh, no, it’s yours. I couldn’t."

He pouts. Actually pouts.

"Come on, just a bite. Humor me." He even throws in the puppy eyes.

And damn it, how could you refuse that face?

Reluctantly, you take a tiny piece with your fork, just enough to taste.

He notices. And he’s not having it.

Without a word, he cuts a larger piece, lifting it toward your lips with his own fork.

"Say aah," he coaxes, his smile both playful and teasing.

Your face burns hotter than the café’s espresso machine, but you comply, letting him feed you.

His expression softens, eyes twinkling with quiet satisfaction.

But just when you think it couldn't get worse—

He leans forward slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Before you can react, he reaches out, thumb brushing lightly against the corner of your mouth.

Then, with a casual grace that should not be allowed, he brings his thumb to his lips, licking off the stray bit of cream.

And smiles.

Innocently.

As if he didn’t just send your soul straight into the abyss.

You stare at him, utterly flustered, while he simply sips his tea, acting as though he didn’t just casually destroy you in broad daylight.

"You're acting awfully sweet to a stranger," you point out, tilting your head at him.

Kazuha hums thoughtfully, swirling his tea. Then, he gives you a small, shy smile.

"Am I? Well... how could I not, if the stranger is you?"

Smooth. Too smooth.

He gives you a shy smile. "We could fix the 'stranger' part. How about friends?"

You giggle softly. "Are you sure just friends?"

He gives you a playful look. "Well, we could be more in the future."

His laugh is light, airy. Like the whisper of wind through maple leaves. But then, something seems to dawn on him, and his expression shifts.

"But—" he pauses, suddenly looking sheepish. "If you're already seeing someone, being friends is enough."

Oh, that's adorable.

You giggle behind your hand, heartwarming at his sincerity. After all that flirting, he's still worried about stepping over a line.

"Don't worry," you reassure him, "I've never dated anyone."

His eyes widen slightly, genuine disbelief flickering across his face.

"Is that so?" He tilts his head. "That's surprising. I thought someone like you would be off the market by now."

You shrug, smirking at him. He leans in just a little, voice dropping to a gentle murmur, as if sharing a secret.

 His gaze locks onto yours, warm, admiring. 

“I get to find and keep the treasure, then? What an honor.”

note. ah yes the work i was most proud of back then lol anw i’m planning to make a part 2 for this idk when tho maybe when i feel like it. i improved a few bits from the original and this is not proofread! i literally just skimmed through the text and changed a few stuff hope u enjoyed say hi if u remembered this

© lmvari do not repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works on any platform.

[muqingslover]

[ you know it ladies, it's me, the virgin Caleb truther back at it again. I added a tag just for this so you can find the posts easily under "virgin Caleb agenda" ;) ]

Let's talk about how messy Caleb is when he eats you out for the first time. His mouth moving in a way that's clumsy and almost awkward, unsure of what he is allowed or should do now that he's come this far. Was he supposed to use his fingers too? Well, he can safely assume he has to use his mouth to some extent but only god knows where he's supposed to actually put his tongue on...or in. Every woman is different, or so he's heard.

Oh but don't think he's anything if not eager because he has enthusiasm to spare. The only problem is that he doesn't know what feels good for you. He has his pride too sometimes and wouldn't want to ask for your help, not at first, so he can prove he is able to do something on his own too, but honestly? That is not happening, not this time at least.

By all means push this man down and take a seat on his face. Grab him by his hair, tight enough that he'll groan at his strands being tugged, and tell him to keep his tongue out and you'll take care of the rest. Having you manhandling him despite knowing he's stronger does things to his brain cock and god when you start to ride his mouth? He's died and gone to heaven.

His dazed eyes remain trained on you, taking in every and each moan that leaves your lips, while one of his hands pump his hard, leaking cock. You taste so damn good that he just can't stop himself from wanting more— His tongue darts out to push inside your little hole, relishing the sound of your gasp and feeling his confidence growing by the sight of you trembling in pleasure. Caleb absolutely loves when you use him, depend on him, need him, and gets off on the fact that he's the one making you let out those sweet sounds even if he's not in charge this time. He fucks your cunt with his wet muscle like a starved man, both spit and your juices dripping down his chin in a delicious mess that he couldn't be more proud of.

The clenching around his tongue makes him wish it was around his cock instead, oh how heavenly it would surely be to push himself into that warm, tight pussy of yours. Your hand tugged harder on his hair when you came, pressing yourself down and further into his mouth as your thighs tensed up around his head, unintentionally cutting off the man's air for a moment too long. When you realized you immediately tried to check on him, afraid you might've killed the man, only to feel Caleb shuddering and moaning against you like a bitch, finding him in a state of absolute ecstasy after lifting your hips off of him. His eyes glazed and his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red while he grinned, licking his drenched lips and feeling his own orgasm running through his quivering body.

"Please, do that again." Is all the man would say as he tried to catch his breath. He looked forward to the next thing he would learn about your body and maybe, just maybe, he also hoped that you would let him fuck you if he was an obedient, patient boy.

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Dog Tags

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1052

Summary: Bucky acts on a World War II superstition and gets a comfort he never expected in return.

A/N: This takes place after Thunderbolts, but is spoiler free since I haven't seen it.

No one noticed his tags had been Steve’s. A carry over of a past life. An antiquated superstition. No one noticed when he showed up with new ones. The metal, cold and heavy around his neck. It felt wrong, baring his own name for the grim reaper. No one believed that anymore, but that didn’t stop the chills.

If he asked you, he was certain you would laugh, you would tell him no, superstitions had no place in your life of intellect. You knew there was no truth, no proof; only a soldier’s fear. He couldn’t ask you, but a primal fear pushed him forward; hoping you’d comply without question.

“Hey, Doll. Can I have your dog tags?” you stopped reviewing your briefing notes. Something in his voice sounded alarm bells in your head. Unsure. Afraid. Scared.

“Um, why?” Measured and careful. Calm. If Bucky was nervous, you were on the edge of panic. 

“It’s a thing we used to do. Please?” he was being intentionally vague. He was either up to something or he assumed you were capable of telling him no.

“Bucky, I need a real answer.” Your fingers followed the chain, absentmindedly. Regardless of his reason, they were his. 

“They say soldiers can’t die without their tags. Steve and I had traded during the war and neither of us died. We should have, but we didn’t.” you’d heard this before, a tale told in hushed tones at basic, shot down by Sergeants. You’d never seen it in practice.

“And now you need mine?” he glanced away, nodding his confirmation without eye contact. Awaiting the no, he knew was coming.

“Yes, Doll. To protect us.” Something about his voice made him sound small. One denial away from breaking. You hated it.

“Alright. Do not lose them.” you slipped them over your head, the warm metal making contact with his palm. He slid his over your head, watching them rest beside your heart.

“They’ll be with me, always.” A vow, deeper than any promise he had ever made before. His vow to keep you with him, alive, for as long as he lived.

“Hey, Bucky.” He'd turned to walk away, but the softness of your voice pulled him back. As if compelled. 

“Yeah, Doll?” he hung on your words like the solely provided him life everlasting.

“I love you too.” The deeper meaning of the tags, to ensure loved ones went home to their families. A soldier’s love. He could have asked John. Bucky chose you to carry with him, to protect, to have nearest his heart. You to love. 

You spent all night running your thumb over the embossed metal. Like braille to the blind. You tossed and turned, sleep evaded you. A simple fact keeping you awake. You loved him. Not just as a friend and teammate; but a bone crushing, all consuming love. Maybe you’d known it all along, keeping it buried under a facade of camaraderie. But it was present now, right at the forefront of every thought. You slipped out of bed, your feet carrying you towards peace. Towards Bucky.

The Watchtower was silent, but your heart hammered as you snuck further down the hall; closer to him. You knew he kept his door unlocked in case of an emergency. You also knew he had heard you the moment you arrived on his floor. He wouldn’t be startled. But you were. By love, but you were.

The knob twisted without resistance. You weren’t thinking. This had to be the worst idea known to man, but you did it. You moved to the empty side of the bed and slipped under the covers. You were lost in how natural it felt. In the pale moonlight, you knew he was shirtless. You also could see that he was watching you.

“Doll? What’s wrong?” Your eyes landed on your tags, splayed over his bare chest; you reached for them, transfixed. His words, in the present, echoed meaninglessly in your ears, but you found yourself answering in the fog. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” The simplified half truth. The full truth was you weren’t in the right place. A foot grazed a bare thigh. Bucky was bare, but unmoving in your presence. 

“Are you okay?” You were off. Distracted and distant. 

“I’m alright now.” You laid down and fell asleep instantly. He was everywhere. Every thought bled Bucky. It was the best rest of your life.

The next morning, it took you a moment to remember where you were. Water was running and the spot beside you was vacant. You knew enough to feel like you should be horrified, but you couldn’t find the feeling. Not when it had felt so right. Words brought you back to the here and now.

“How are you feeling this morning? You were pretty out of it last night. You had me worried.” Now you were horrified. You’d snuck into your best friend and leader’s bed without explanation. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m fine, really. I’m so sorry.” you were panicking. A thousand thoughts of all of the various ways he’d banish you away from him spiraled through your mind.

“Easy now. I’m not mad. Confused and concerned, but never mad. Just talk to me.” A brief calm swept over you. Threatened only by the vortex in your head of your own making.

“You’ll hate me if I tell you.” Self-doubt drenched you in ice water. No amount of reassurance would calm the building storm. It was unlike you, Bucky noted. Always so sure and fearless, unraveling now.

“I won’t. It’s not possible.” your lips and brain divorced, moving on their own to tell secrets of your heart.

“I love you, I don’t know how I ended up here, but I’m not sorry because it's where I belong.” he paused, short circuiting from your admission.

“Just to clarify, in my bed or with me?” he didn’t dare let himself hope anymore. The crushing disappointment served far better torture than anything Hydra had produced. 

“With you.” The only two words he hadn’t known he needed. The two words, better than any therapy session he had endured. He’d demand them to be etched on his headstone for as much as they meant to his wounded soul; made so much more precious by the lips they spilled from. With you.

[sylusrot]

LADs Men Comforting you

A/N: Just a little idea I thought of because I, too, need to be comforted right now.

Tags: Sylus X fem!Reader, Zayne X fem!Reader, Xavier X fem!Reader, Rafayel X fem!Reader, Caleb X fem!Reader, Fluff

Warnings: Descriptions of an anxiety attack, Angst (but quickly resolved)

As always, please enjoy and send ideas to my inbox. ^^

~

Sylus:

You had gone on an extremely dangerous mission with Sylus. You're a very strong person, both physically and mentally, but every strong person has their breaking point.

Yesterday, you had witnessed a massive explosion from the passenger seat of Sylus' car. That explosion happened to be the same one Sylus was in.

You start to get out of the car, to rush in there, to make Sylus was okay, but you couldn't. An unbelievable amount of people start surrounding the now fiery building. People you can recognize as the people that want you dead, that want Sylus dead.

Tears start building up behind your eyes as you hurriedly get into the driver seat. You know he wouldn't want you to run into that, not to chase him into danger. So you drive. You drive and drive. You shouldn't be because you can barely see through the tears, eventually you pull over when you know you're far enough.

That's when you let it out. Sobs rattle your body as your fists beat against the steering wheel.

"Please don't treat my baby like that, sweetie." A husky voice says outside your window, one that Sylus had left open. You quickly look and there he is. Almost unscathed. Some ash sits on his cheek while a small gash bleeds from his brow.

"Sylus.." You say breathlessly. Nearly falling trying to get out of the car to get to him, he catches you in his arms and pulls you close. Closer than he ever has it feels like.

"You should know I would never leave you." He says into your ear, barely above a whisper. His hands rub up and down your back. All you can do is hold him tighter.

"I will always come back to you, sweetie."

Safe to say, Sylus treated you like a princess for the next month, and you never left his side.

~

Zayne:

Something felt off. You had just gotten back home after a mission and you couldn't breathe. You had seen so many things today that you're not sure you'll ever forget it.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you collapsed to the floor. Your vision is blurry, unsure whether it's from the income anxiety attack or the tears threatening to spill. Your head feels heavy, like you could pass out in any moment. Your throat feels tight, like it's closed completely.

Eventually, a sob leaves your lips. It reaches Zayne's ears all the way in your shared office. His head snaps from the computer screen and he jumps from his chair, making it crash into the wall behind him.

"Darling?!" his voice seemed calm, but there was an undercurrent of panic. Zayne felt his heart clench at the sight of you. Your breaths were heavy, quick, as if you couldn't get oxygen past your throat and into your lungs.

"Hey..." he quickly gets down onto the floor with you. Strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, giving you the pressure you so badly needed. Zayne rocks you back and forth as you cry, just letting you get it all out. The only words he says is to remind you to slow your breathing.

Once your breathing slows, you hesitantly look up at him.

"I have you. You don't need to tell me what happened, but I'll be right here to pick up the aftermath."

~

Xavier:

The two of you were in battle. More and more wanderers kept striking you both. It felt never ending. It was getting hard for you to keep up. The next thing you know, a searing white pain flashing in your eyes. Your guns clank to the ground in front of you. Opening your eyes, you see a giant gash in your arm. The sight of it make your head feel queasy.

Xavier is at your side in an instant. He holds onto you firmly, while being careful not to aggravate your injury any further. Another white light blinds you, but this time not from pain, from Xavier. The wanderers fall to the ground and fade away.

Watching as all the threats disappear, the adrenaline starts to slow. Your knees buckle and you start to fall but Xavier is there to catch you, slowly setting you onto the ground.

"You're okay." his voice is soft, reassuring. "Just focus on my face." You stare into his eyes as he rips part of his uniform. When he lifts your arm, you hiss in pain.

"I know, baby, I know." Xavier ties the cloth around your arm over the cut to slow the bleeding. "It's going to be okay, you're okay." Tears start to prickle the edges of your eyes. When he looks back up at you, he quickly notices. Leaning in, he first kisses your forehead, and then the tears that managed to slip out.

"Lets go get you fixed up." He picks you up with ease, one of his thumbs rubbing circles into your hip as you press your face into his chest, smelling his cologne.

~

Rafayel:

At first, you were silent, hands cupping your mouth. Tears slowly start to pool in your eyes. In front of you stood a canvas that Rafayel had been working on. A canvas that now had splatters of paint from you accidentally knocking over the table holding his paints.

You back up a bit. What were you going to do? You ruined it. In that exact moment, Rafayel walks in. As soon as he meets your eyes, the tears spill.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." The words tumble from your lips. You keep backing up, feeling the need to get away. Rafayel's eyes fill with worry. He sets down the paints he had left to get and rushes to you. You didn't want him to touch you. You knew he'd surely be mad.

Eventually, he grabs your hands, pulling them to his chest. His eyes look deeply into yours.

"Shhh... Cutie, it's okay. What's wrong?" His voice is quiet and sweet. Your initial panic subsides a bit, Rafayel's always soothing. Without saying a word, you point to his canvas and try shrinking away. He turns around and sees the mess.

A chuckle escapes his lips. He walks up to it with a small smile. After awhile, he turns back to you.

"It's perfect." A confused look washes over your face. "The colors, the way the paint flows. This is going in the next showcase."

"Nonono." You rush in front of him. "I ruined it." Rafayel chuckles again.

"In my eyes, all your flaws are a work of art, and this mistake is the same. It's perfect. I love it, just as I love each and every of your flaws."

~

Caleb:

The first day was always the worst. The nausea, the migraine, the cramps. Today was particularly bad, worse than usual. On top of all the period pains, you were just sad. No rhyme or reason to it, just sad.

Caleb had decided to stay home. He knew before you could even say anything that today wasn't going to be good.

"Stay in bed, princess. I'll make you your favorite breakfast." All you could do was nod in response, not feeling up to speaking. As he leaves, you roll onto his side of the bed, curling into his pillow and inhaling his scent.

The next time you open your eyes, the nightstand beside you had a plate filled with fluffy waffles with chocolate chips in them. A chocolate milk was also sat out. Caleb was crouched in front of you rubbing your cheek.

"Morning, pips. Breakfast is ready." He gives you a soft smile, one that you return back to him. As you sit up, a sharp cramp surges through you. You try to play it off but Caleb never misses anything when it comes to you. He hands you the plate and he goes over to one of the drawers to get your heating pad out.

How did I get this lucky? You look from him preparing the heating pad down to your food. Warmth spreads through you as you're filled with love. Tears start to slip down your cheek.

"Pips? What's wrong?" Caleb sits down beside you on the bed, reaching an arm around your waist while his other hand wipes the tears away.

"I just love you so much." is all you can say as you lay your head against his chest.

"I love you, too. I'll spend my whole life, and even after, showing you how much I love you.

[yanderedrabbles]

Misery - Part Three

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Previous Chapter

After Andy left, you managed to change out of your clothes. The flannel shirt he gave you was worn down just enough to feel cozy and the smell of his cologne still lingered 'round the collar.

You settled against the headboard and almost dozed off before he came back. He'd taken off his jacket and carried a pile of firewood in his arms. He dumped the logs in the fireplace and stood up, revealing a wife beater and arms thick with muscle. You were right about his strength - his body was just further proof of it.

"Sorry 'bout that. I should have brought some in last night but well..."

He turned to you, dusting his hands. "I got a good look at the situation outside. You might not wanna hear it but we're totally snowed in. Phone lines are down too."

"Oh. I didn't realise it was that bad."

You felt a dull sort of trepidation. Andy had been nothing but kind to you, but being stuck out in the mountains frightened you.

"Any idea when things will open up again?"

He sat down in the chair beside your bed and stretched out. For a second, the only thought in your head was how dangerous and lean he looked. His dog tags caught the light and winked at you.

"Hard to tell. We're far off the beaten path. Only folks nearby are the Roydmans and they're a good few miles off. 'Sides, snows too deep to drive through so even if they clear off the main road, we ain't getting there anytime soon."

You felt your heart sink. "Do you think I need to go to the hospital?"

He raised a brow and skimmed his eyes across your body. "It ain't looking pretty, but I reckon you can handle it."

"Hurts like hell though."

"Sorry princess, but it'll take a while for this sort of hurt to heal. Best I can do is give you something strong for the pain."

Your ankle still throbbed mercilessly and hearing him say that made you all the more aware of it. You searched desperately around the room for a distraction.

The room was much larger than you realised, with a panelled wood ceiling and big bay windows. From your position, all you could see was the sky.

It was comfortable and starkly clean. Oh God, was this his room or a guest room?

"I haven't kicked you out of your room, have I?" you asked, suddenly unsure of yourself.

He grinned and rubbed his jaw. "I reckoned you needed a nice bed far more than I did."

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" Your hands fluttered to your lips. You felt terribly guilty. "I can't imagine how much I've put you out."

He waved you away. "It gets awful quiet up here. You have no idea how nice it is to have company."

His eyes dropped to the shirt you were wearing. "Real nice."

He reached up to play around with his dog tags and you finally noticed the tattoo across his forearm.

"Semper Fidelis?"

"Always loyal."

He reached forward and let you inspect his arm. You took hold of his wrist and traced the tattoo with your fingertips. The words themselves were small and neat, but the rest of it was an intricate pattern of barbed wire that wound round his forearm.

"Did it hurt?"

"Tell you the truth? It stung like a bitch."

He was watching your face and when you looked up at him, your eyes met. Those eyes on the other end of a gun would have sent you running for the hills. You pitied the soldiers that faced off against him.

You let go of his arm and swallowed.

"When did you get it?"

He let his forearm rest next to your thigh.

"When I was deployed for the first time."

He was close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne and the sweet smell of pine from the wood he chopped.

"How did you end up in the Marines anyway?"

"I've got you curious, do I?"

You felt yourself blush. "Maybe a little."

"Hmm." He rubbed at his jaw, like he was trying to rub away a smile.

"Maybe I'll tell you about it someday. For now though, you need to take some tablets and get some sleep."

"But what about you? I've kind of colonised your bed."

"First thing you learn in basic is to sleep standing up. I'll be fine sleeping on the couch. 'Sides, I ain't the one who went crashing off the road less than a day ago."

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a blister pack of tablets.

"These are Novril. They pack a hell of a punch, so I expect you to sleep through the rest of the day. Best thing you can do right now is rest, got it?"

"Yes sir."

He dropped two shiny white pills into your open palm.

"Good girl. Now drink up."

He passed you a glass of water from the nightstand. The tablets left a slightly bitter taste behind, but you hurt too much to mind it.

Outside, the snow started up again.

You smiled at him. "How am I ever supposed to repay you?"

He studied you for a second.

The shirt you borrowed was missing a few buttons near the top and gaped open just a little at your tits, but you were too drowsy to notice.

He grinned that slow, lazy smile of his. "I'm sure you'll think of something, princess."

You hadn't fully realised just how intimate this all was. You were wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed. Entirely reliant on him to take care of you.

He stood up and shook his head.  "You must be hungry. Any requests?"

"Nope. I'll take anything at this point."

His eyes flickered to your chest and then quickly away. "I can make you regret that real fast, y'know."

"Come on, you can't be that bad of a chef."

He huffed and shook his head. "You just sit pretty and I'll be back."

He returned with a bowl of oats sprinkled with brown sugar. His fingers brushed yours when he handed it to you and he lingered for a second longer than needed.

"I'm afraid it's all hospital chow until you're stronger. It's too bad - I make a mean flapjack."

You played around with your spoon and then gave in. Plain oats or not, you needed your strength.

Andy was quiet while you ate, watching the snow swirl across the window.

He tugged at his dog tags again and spoke up, "Does anyone know you're out here? A boyfriend, a sibling, anyone that knows where you were headed?"

You carefully put your empty bowl down on the nightstand. With the tablets, the pain was mercifully retreating. Not gone, never entirely gone, but a tiny bit more manageable.

"No. I wanted to surprise a friend but they don't know I'm coming."

You felt unnaturally drowsy for this early in the day. He must have noticed it because he stood up and gently pressed at your shoulders.

"Lie down and I promise you'll be out like a light soon enough."

You listened to him and found your eyes drifting shut as soon as you hit the pillow.

"Y'know." Your voice was muffled by your pillow. "You're a really great guy."

"Thanks, but save that until after you're better, yeah?"

He pulled the duvet higher and carefully tucked it around your shoulders.

"Not a soul knows you're out here?"

You hummed in agreement. You were almost entirely asleep and barely felt the hand that drifted across your forehead, gently pushing the hair off your face.

"Just you and me, princess."

You didn't hear it, but there was a strange note to his voice. Fear, maybe. Or longing. Hard to tell, with how similar they can be.

Next Chapter [coming soon]

Masterlist

Taglist

@pleorexicz @lem-hhn @mybelovedjupiter

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.

Thank you very muchly.

Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)

~~~~

✨Opening Up✨

Lucifer x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer

It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

@katshyperfixations

@logybearsblog

@bigfatbimbo

You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.

Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.

"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."

"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."

Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."

"O-Ok," you stuttered.

"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.

You shook your head. "No."

"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"

You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.

Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.

"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.

"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.

Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."

"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”

Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”

“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.

It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.

“Lucifer?” you called to him.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”

“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”

You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.

“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.

“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.

All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.

“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.

“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”

Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.

"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"

Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."

“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.

“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.

“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”

“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”

"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.

"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.

"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.

“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.

“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”

Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.

Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.

“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.

“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”

Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.

You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.

“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.

“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”

“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.

“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.

“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”

Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”

You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”

Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.

~~~~

Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo

AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Manchild

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

Pairing: John Walker x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive themes, swearing, no mention of Y/N, Not proofread 🥲

A.N: a lil drabble inspired by Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter because John very much gives those vibes 🥲 some of the song is incorporated into the fic 💖

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨

——💥——💥——💥——💥——

You looked at John with a bewildered, humourless smile.

He was attempting to put on coffee for the team and he was driving you fucking insane.

“Give me that,” you finally snapped and grabbed the coffee grounds. He stood frozen on the spot in an old sports jersey with a hole by the hem and grey jersey shorts. Hair slicked back, you were unsure if it was from gel or grease at this point. “How you’ve survived Earth this long I’ll never know.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan “Do you think I had time to figure out how a coffee machine works?!” He exclaimed with his hands waving in the air. “Yanno, as a veteran-“

“If you continue, I’m going to smash the coffee pot over your head.” You glared at him, the first drops of coffee starting to decant into the pot and filling your nostrils with the unmistakable smell. “I’ll teach you how to work it when your frontal lobe finally develops.” You mock slapped your forehead “Oh wait, that will be never.”

Johns eyes narrowed at you “Ha ha, so funny.” He deadpanned. “It’s a good job you’re cute…” he shamelessly flirted and you groaned in despair.

“It’s a shame you’re so sexy yet so dumb.” Your mouth and brain not connecting quickly enough to stop yourself saying that aloud and then telling each other off for letting those words that should have remained thoughts come out of your mouth so flippantly.

He had a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I also think you’re dumb.” You batted back and watched the machine make coffee intensely. “That I think wholly consumes you. Just radiating sheer dumbass energy.”

John loudly snorted “I may be a dumbass-“

You cut him off “Exactly! Well done for your self-realisation! The next step on your journey through life is learning how the fucking coffee machine works!”

“Uh, I was actually going to say that I may be a dumbass but at least I got a great ass.” He began creeping closer to you.

You poured out your coffee after the machine beeped to inform you it was ready. “I shouldn’t say anything until I’ve had my coffee.” You took a sip. “I’ve seen a flat sheet of paper with more curves than you.”

John smirked, a bubble of laughter leaving his throat. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You can be pissed at me all you want but don’t deny that.” He lowly spoke, biting down on his lip as the gap between you both became almost completely eradicated.

You took a long, sip of your coffee, exaggerating the noise far too much. You decided to have some harmless fun with him, toy with the super solider a little. “Hmm, seems I can’t deny it,” you finally said into your cup. “But my ass is better.” You taunted.

He felt like he was a fish looking at bait at the end of a hook.

And he bit into it.

“You got that right,” his line of sight fell to your feet and slowly back up your body. You sent him a grotesque expression and playfully pushed him away. “What?!”

“Don’t come running to me,” you warned, pointing at him. He held his hands up defensively.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?” That boyish charm he had, the doe eyes, the golden retriever energy. God, you knew he was stupidly insufferable.

You weren’t so stupid to know that you had a crush on him.

You also weren’t naive to the fact he had one on you too.

You used this to your advantage however, relishing his playful flirty comments that almost sounded like they were made in jest when in fact you knew he meant them with his whole heart.

The two of you fought the worst scum in the world, but you were both too afraid to make the first move.

—•—

“My god!” You cried, bent down looking in the washing machine, the lights and whites now an awful shade of greyish-pink.

“What?” The trademark voice of the one and only John Walker behind you. You stood up and he groaned “No, bend back over.”

Your head snapped round with a furrowed, yet flattered, brow. “I- uh- shut up!” You looked back to the washing machine. “What the hell happened?! Who was doing the washing today?” You began pulling out the laundry, you knew Bob would never let something like this happen- he was too meticulous with the laundry. You knew it wasn’t Alexei- he never did the laundry. You knew it wasn’t Bucky- he was on a mission. You knew it wasn’t Ava- she had done her laundry duties this week. You knew it wasn’t Yelena- she was on dish washing this week.

Your hands pulled out a black vest top and red boxers and gripped onto them tightly.

“Oh…” John let out from under his breath. His half functioning brain never put two and two together to realise that the dye from his clothes would run on to the white fabrics.

“WALKER!” You yelled and tossed the soggy clothing at him.

He caught them effortlessly and grimaced feeling the cold, wet clothes hit his chest. You kept pulling out the laundry, your hands finding your clothes and groaning at the sight that everything would now have to be bleached back to the original colour again. You pulled out your underwear, John standing there transfixed as you unraveled it.

“Well, if you’re not happy about this you don’t have to wear any.” He, far too smugly, tried to find a resolution- one that would be more in benefit to him rather than you.

Your head almost flew off your shoulders this time you turned so fast. “Fuck you.”

He smirked “I’m game if you are…”

You had to turn away, this time a smile spreading over your face instead of a scowl at his quick wit. “So stupid,” you scoffed, scolding yourself more than him. “Yanno, I’ve got more underwear,” you decided to counter back, playing fire with fire.

John casually rested against the countertop. “Oh yeah?” He watched as you stood, still a little shorter than him. “In order to believe it, I’ll have to see it…”

The space between you both started to close in. You stopped him with a hand on his chest and a playful, soft, slap to his cheek “Oh honey, only in your wildest dreams.”

You began walking away and he laughed to himself “Yeah, those and my wettest ones too!”

He was out of your line of sight but you were still brought to a sudden halt. And then a smile appeared on your lips.

—•—

“God how can one be so beautiful yet so dumb,” you said to him while shopping for groceries the next morning. The super solider trying to distinguish the difference between red and white onions.

John looked up to you through his lashes, a smile broke out across his face. “You think I’m beautiful.”

“I also said you were dumb.” You looked at your watch “And taking up too much time. Let’s hurry up, I don’t want to spend all day here.” You tried to grumble but in fact you would have loved spending the full day at the store with him, enjoying a little domesticated moment between you both.

John decided not to press your complimentary comments over the last few days, simply choosing to adorn them in his heart instead.

And chasing after you like a lost puppy with his tongue hanging out.

“Oh!” A thought came to John’s head as you passed the toiletry aisle “I need my five-in-one.”

You stopped with the cart in the middle of the store dumbfounded. “What do you mean a five-in-one?” You followed him down to the body care and he held out a bottle. Your jaw dropped with a mixture of sheer awe and disgust. “Walker, did your mom drop you on the head multiple times when you were a child?” You asked. “Good god have you heard of self-care? Who hurt you this much that you’ve had to resort to that.”

John placed it in the cart, much to your dismay. You both walked further down the aisle and you heard him snort with laughter.

“These are what I need.” He said, holding out a box of condoms with ‘XTRA LARGE’ virtually on every square inch the box.

He tossed them into the cart and you raised a brow, picking them back out and forcefully placing them on the shelf. “We don’t have time for this.” You warned. “Besides I’m too much of an innocent woman for this nonsense.” He blew a raspberry and threw them back in the cart. “John!”

“Fuck, love it when you use my first name,” he said in a tone that almost made you grab a wet floor sign from the impact it had on you. You tried to push those feelings to the side and put them back again. He bit down on his lip “I see how it is…” you raised a brow in silent questioning. “You want me to give you it raw.”

“Jesus!” You yelped, palms becoming suddenly sweaty gripping onto the shopping cart handle. “We need to go.” He placed his hand on top of the box in jest. “We do not need condoms!” You loudly shouted and other shoppers looked at you both, murmuring under their breaths at your outburst. You placed your head in your hand.

A moment of silence passed between you and John. “Now everyone knows we do it raw,” he said.

You groaned “We don’t even have sex!” You snappishly whispered.

“Well,” John trapped you between his body and the shopping cart. “Let’s have it then.”

“No.” You bluntly replied. “I’ve got stuff to do,” you walked on, John following after.

“I didn’t realise my name had changed to ‘stuff’.” He said with a coy grin.

You threw a bag of chips at him.

—•—

Later that same night John was eating from the same bag of chips you threw at him while watching TV, shouting out the most wildly incorrect answers at the screen. The full group shared passing glances as he yelled out another.

John turned to you, sat next to him on the sofa, the team strategically leaving that spot free solely for you.

You knew what they were attempting to do.

“Aren’t you impressed?” He asked, attempting to eat a chip and missing his mouth completely.

You rolled your eyes and sighed “Yeah…I just love an incompetent man.”

John laughed loudly, everyone’s attention on him. “Oh you won’t be saying that when I get you in my bed.”

“John!” You smacked him with a cushion.

“You will be saying that however…” he purred and you suddenly felt like your heart was exploding in your chest, your lungs were deprived of air and that your throat was closing up. “Many, many times.”

You nervously forced a laugh “He’s so so funny right guys!” You tried to mock him and smile normally at the team who were looking at you both with expressions that were equally concerned as they were disturbed.

They slowly disappeared to bed. Then it was just you and John.

You slowly turned to him. “What?” He asked with a shrugging shoulder.

The feelings inside you burst out.

“You are such a manchild.”

John laughed “You love it.”

He was painfully right. It was the smartest and most correct he had said that night and all week.

You gave in to your feelings, any and all inhibitions out of the window as you swiftly straddled his thighs, surprising him.

“You. Me. Bed. Now.”