#her trust is easily broken and when it is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Note

I'm thinking about Megumi's sister, who went to magic school with him. who was trained by Gojo. who fell in love with Gojo. who dared to confess her feelings to him. and which Satoru rejected, saying that he was too old for her

it doesn't have to be something obscene… so if you like this idea, then please write something!

belong with me

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?

genre/warnings: angst to fluff, a bit slow burn, age gap, one-sided pining, mentions of injury, comfort, teacher!gojo x student!reader

notes: omg omg i actually really like this idea!! i had wanted to write this since you sent this ask but i was struggling with the setting, so i tweaked minor things so that it’ll fit the canon timeline—reader is megumi’s cousin rather than sister.

and *sigh* it somehow turned out into a 4k+ word🤧

general masterlist

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

If asked that, Megumi would definitely say that he owed both of your lives and his sister’s to him. Following the chaos too complicated for you to understand that left the three of you orphaned at the age of six, Gojo Satoru, who were just barely an adult himself then, was the one who stepped in to take all of you in.

But to you, he was more than just that. He was many things. Your savior, mentor, friend, and... you daresay, first love.

And because of that, you would never thought that there’d come a time when your heart was really broken by him.

At first, Gojo Satoru felt like a big brother to you. Megumi was suspicious of him since the very beginning—his skepticism was funny sometimes—but you and Tsumiki weren’t as much.

He easily became your friend. You would laugh for hours to end after he cracked the stupidest or lamest of jokes. He made the fact that curses exist and that you were somehow able to keep them at bay more bearable.

And when Tsumiki fell into her curse… Gojo was there to bring you comfort.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Your hands were shaking as you frantically poked and nudged your kind cousin from her peaceful slumber at the hospital bed. The smell was suffocating—the sight was unbearable. Tsumiki was supposed to be bouncing up and keeping both you and Megumi at bay, not lifelessly lying here like this.

Facing Gojo, who had a tight-lipped expression beside you, you pleaded, "Gojo-sensei—" your glassy eyes welled up, voice choked with tears, "—make her wake up, please..."

And that was the first time he broke your heart. Even the strongest couldn’t lift this cruel curse posed upon your kind sister.

Your throat tightened, choked with painful whimpers as tears flowed uncontrollably. Sudden grief overwhelmed you, making you sway and shake like a leaf. At first, you didn’t notice how a pair of warm hands enveloped you, drawing you close for comfort.

Gojo allowed you to cry against him while you pounded on his chest. Not a word came out of his lips, a telltale sign that he was taking the situation seriously—something you, above anyone else, understood well.

From then on—ever since the tragedy that befell Tsumiki, it seemed like Gojo became even more protective of you but stricter with Megumi. The two of you eventually pursued the path of jujutsu, driven by one wishful thinking in mind—the possibility to break Tsumiki’s curse.

Encountering Gojo became a daily routine when you lived at the dormitory as a first year at Jujutsu High. He frequently dropped by just to greet you, or give you some things he got from his missions.

"Here," Gojo handed you the package of a popular kikufuku store. With that blindfold on and a shit-eating grin split his face, he actually looked so ridiculous. "I got you all their available flavors! Trust me, you'll like them!"

Against your own will, you felt rosy blush spreading across your cheeks. "Oh, thank you... I'll give some to Megumi as well, he's been working hard lately..."

"Ehh?" he pursed his lips. "No, no, no—they're for you! Don't give them to that emo kid!"

There was absolutely nothing significant about how he worded it. You were well aware of that—only a fool wouldn't be.

So why are you so giddy? Hah, why do you feel like you're... special?

"Don't call him emo," you chided, trying to suppress your smile.

"But he is! He's always grouchy with me without reason!"

Throughout your childhood, and now as you were entering adulthood yourself, Gojo's presence in your life still felt like a comforting, warm blanket—a dependable presence you could rely on, someone you could trust completely.

And apparently, someone you had unwittingly given your heart to.

It was a gradual process. You didn't fall for him at first sight or anything of the sort—it took years of being under his protection. Even as you watched him pursue one girl after another from the sidelines, you couldn't deny it—your heart was already his since then.

He always knew what to say, how to cheer you up.

"What's got you so down, huh?" Gojo asked, tousling your hair gently as you slouched. "Is it because of earlier? Don't be so down, you're doing great."

You fidgeted with your fingers, feeling the sting of failure twisting your gut. "I held everyone back, sensei. That's not great at all."

In the last mission, you nearly put Yuji and Nobara's lives in danger. You had taken the initiative to step into the cursed room, and had it not been for Megumi who came to your rescue, any one of you could have sustained significantly more severe injuries.

Gojo offered you a lopsided smile. "You couldn't have known that. Don't beat yourself up so much. The most important thing is that all of you are safe."

"But we might not, all because of my daring ass."

"Look."

He squatted to meet your eye level, and it dawned on you that he wasn't wearing that blindfold. "The fact is that everyone is good. And no, even if Megumi wasn't there, you wouldn't have been doomed. I would have been there, I always have, yeah?"

He was truly a sight, with that sparkling eyes even more so when he smiled unabashedly, voice not as playful as his tone usually was.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you replied, forcing out the words even as you were somewhat awestruck. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm inadequate."

"You're a first year," Gojo pointed out. "Everyone is bound to make mistakes. You just have to learn from them."

"In our line of work, those mistakes can cost us lives." You chewed your lip, looking down. "I—I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

Your words left Gojo momentarily speechless. His blue eyes blinked several times as though he was taken aback, and you felt even more small—you had just revealed your deepest fear to him.

But suddenly, he laughed right in your face, prompting you to shoot him a glare. Just as you were about to retort, he rested his palm on your head.

"Do you seriously think I will allow that to happen?" Gojo queried with a wide grin and snarky tone. "To you, out of everyone else?"

You gazed at him in a daze, feeling self-conscious with his warm hand on your head. He'd likely done this a hundred times already, but you could never get past the sensation of his gentle touch on your skin. You yearned for more—for him to cradle your face, to caress you, to draw you closer—

“The obvious answer is, I won't,” he declared so surely, exuding unwavering confidence. You blinked, marveling at how his words made your heart soar and your breath catch. “So stop thinking about scary things. I'm here, remember?”

How was there a person who was such a perfect blend of the man of your dreams—smug, but also funny, caring and strong, like Gojo Satoru was?

Was it a sin to harbor these feelings for him? He has always been kind to you, and if you daresay it, fond of you as well. Is there a possibility—

Really, you should have known your boundaries.

"I think..."

And yet your heart screamed, for whatever it's worth—

"...I love you..."

Why couldn't you see that this was doomed right from the start?

"—Gojo-sensei."

You were breathless. Your wildly thumping heart drowned out almost everything else. Your hands were sweaty, and you braved yourself to meet his eyes.

And when you did, you knew heartbreak for the second time—

The way his smile faltered a bit, yet he forced it upwards, perhaps to spare your feelings.

Just as he always has. Ever since he rescued you back then, he would do these silly things so you would feel better.

"I'm flattered, you know?" Gojo gazed at you genially. "But I think—"

"You don't understand." What am I even insisting? "I... like you so much, Gojo-sensei. All this time."

It was supposed to be your final card. Baring everything to him. How grateful you were that he took you in, the kindness he showed you, Megumi and Tsumiki, those sleepless nights after Tsumiki fell into coma that he spent with you, sharing shaved ice on the hottest, cruelest summer...

"You're almost half my age," he stated matter-of-factly, and a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "You're mistaking love for admiration. That's it."

"No! I know how I feel—"

"You should find someone your age," Gojo added while maintaining his smile. "There are good guys out there. Toge is nice—ah, but his cursed technique might be a little troublesome. Yuji is earnest and honest..."

You have never thought that there’d come a time where your heart was really broken by him. But he just did, as he listed all your friends without any regard to your feelings.

Suddenly, a wave of resentment surged within you, prompting you to hiss and cut him off.

"You're always like this," your eyes had started to well up with tears, but you ignored it. His puzzled expression only fueled your frustration.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

You felt ashamed, but in hindsight you should've probably expected this. You didn't have anyone else to blame but yourself. You knew it wasn't fair to lay the blame on Gojo like now—he was merely on the receiving end of the brunt of your heartbreak.

You hated this. You hated yourself. And you couldn't help but to hate him too, despite knowing that you shouldn't.

With that, you dashed away, tucking away your first love to the furthermost part of your heart, swearing that you'd never, ever revisit that chapter of your life again.

Ain't that just the worst thing to hear?

Witnessing your tear-streaked face as you hurried past him left him stunned, rooted in place.

In no way was Gojo Satoru going to romance his own student. You were quite literally his protege and his other protege’s sister. That was simply out of the question. Not that he was the model of propriety, but even he knew that was not right.

And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact whether he did see you as a woman or not, because even if he did, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Right? It won’t change anything.

Because it was how it was supposed to be.

It was probably one of the forms of tantrum—or whatever it was labeled—in the end, it was simply a reaction to not achieving what you wanted.

For years, Gojo had shielded you and Megumi from the Zen’in clan. They were horrible people, and you were eternally grateful that Gojo went to great lengths for you, always swatting them away before they could get close to either of you.

Now that you thought about it, who they really wanted was Megumi. Your cousin held the quintessential Zen'in talent, while your modest Projection Sorcery wasn't particularly rare among the clan. Still, they sought you as well, merely to bolster their prestige with another member.

Normally, you wouldn't think such things. But you weren't in the best state of mind, muddled by your blind heartbreak. It skewed your mindset to one of the extremes.

And then you got this terrifyingly brilliant idea—what if you turned yourself to them? Surely the Zen’in would be sated for a while and stop bugging Megumi.

And you didn’t have to see Gojo as often too.

This went against everything he had done to ensure your safety. But that was the first thing that entered your mind when Zen’in Naoya accosted you by chance.

"We're family," he stated with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spine, an unsettling feeling washing over you. "We wouldn't harm you. Why waste your time being Gojo's little errand girl, huh?"

This was easier, or at least that was the illusion you attempted to persuade yourself with.

Naoya left with you with a meaningful "Think about it."

And the more you thought about it, the more you leaned towards the scenario you had thought to be unimaginable before—leaving Gojo behind.

Two months had passed since then, and it was time for the Kyoto Goodwill Exchange event. Gojo remembered this being one of the most exciting moments during his youth, and he sincerely wished that you would have fun too, even with all that had been going on between you.

He knew he was the one who said Yuji would be good. But he wanted to backtrack when he saw him getting punched by Todo. Nah, Yuji was too stupid, he wouldn’t want that for your match. Must be someone else… who was stronger, better.

And then he was even more beside himself when he saw you with Mechamaru.

Like really? That tin soldier? You could definitely have someone more human. He surely didn’t approve of the sight of you getting friendly with that suspicious scrap of metal!

"Hah," he grumbled to himself. Was it just him or were young boys these days simply too subpar?

Yuji is too risky, after all, he is also Sukuna's vessel. Todo... no way, he can crush you with one hand... Panda is a panda...

As if the roster wasn't bad enough, he was met with the most bewildering sight.

Never would have Gojo thought that someway or another, he would see you with that obnoxious Zen'in spawn who called himself the heir.

Before he could grasp his actions, he stomped right into the midst of where the two of you were—

. . .

You were a step away from agreeing to a whole load of new mess, until wind got knocked out of your lungs as you were harshly yanked from behind—

—and the next thing you knew, a broad back was in front of you.

“What do you want?” a low voice, almost foreign to your ears. But this man before you was Gojo Satoru himself, just way sterner than he usually was.

You were caught off guard by his tight grip on your wrist, his dark gaze fixed on the Naoya.

“Ah, don't be like that, please.” Naoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying that it's been too long already for you to play the benefactor. She ought to be with the family, where she rightfully belongs."

Gojo seemed to grow more imposing, his sneer deepening. "And by family you mean you?"

The atmosphere grew tense as the exchange between them continued, each word laden with underlying tension.

"Hah, Gojo-sama, you really think you're so high and mighty, don't you? I'll have you know that she, and by extension, the Fushiguro boy, are Zen'ins. No matter how—"

Naoya's words seemed to falter as Gojo's presence intensified. There was this thick electricity in the air, and you almost shuddered when he spat, "Leave."

He couldn't possibly murder another great clan's heir, no matter how much he might have been able to. It would incite a strife that would make his eyes hurt. He just had to scare him off.

And he did. Naoya went with his tail tucked behind him, and that was one problem taken care of. Now Gojo just had one other thing to deal with—

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing, before he even properly faced you. "Since when did you start meeting up with him?"

You hadn’t talked to him ever since your botched confession, but with the way it seemed, he was acting quite normal. It irked you.

"That's hardly your business," you retorted with a hiss.

Your responses seemed to grate him. "Oh? What do you mean it's not?"

"He is right, isn't he? I'm a Zen'in. There is no need for you to go out of your way to keep me under your wing. I can always go back to them."

"Are you—" His frustration was evident and it was quite possibly the first time you saw him direct this at you. "You can't go to them—"

"Sure," you mocked, wrenching your wrist away from his grasp. "I'm telling you, I'm not a child, Gojo-sensei. Please stop telling me what should and I should not do."

"That's not what I'm getting at. I've told you how horrible that place is, your place definitely isn't there."

"And? Where should I be?" you huffed challengingly. "Please, don't tell me that it's your cue to say that it's by your side. Because both of us know it's not."

Gojo didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that you somehow fell into whatever it was that Naoya had whispered to your ear or how bratty you were being right now. Unwittingly, he let his own pettiness slip out, "You know what? You're being quite childish right now."

He convinced himself that, having practically raised you, he was entitled to have a say in major decisions in your life. He wouldn't let the Zen'in take Megumi away, let alone you.

Your face went scarlet with repressed anger. "So be it then."

With that, you stalked away, and just like how you went away from him the first time, Gojo could only stare at you in silence.

How had your relationship with him turned this sour? Was it the wrong thing to not acknowledge your confession before? He sincerely thought you would realize the implications behind your own words and snap out of that ideal version of him you had in mind—because he knew best that he wasn’t made for this.

Girls your age must want a taste of young love. He understood that, but it couldn’t be with him. It had to be someone else.

He resumed his musings earlier before he found you out with Naoya. And he finally came to a conclusion, that Yuta was the best match. Shame he was still away somewhere in Africa.

When Yuta got back, he would introduce him to you. Yuta was strong, kind, and he wouldn’t hurt you. And it would do him good too to have someone who cares about him.

Gojo Satoru never made flawed judgements. He knew this was the best approach, and yet why was there still this stifling feeling in his gut… at the idea of you being with someone—god forbid—who isn't him?

Not long after, a sinking feeling gnawed at him at the chaotic mess surrounding the Kyoto Goodwill event.

At first Gojo thought it was the standard worry. He chalked it up to all of his students were trapped inside this curtain that specifically forbid him to enter. Naturally, he would worry for his students; after all, he was their teacher.

But when he saw you fell on your knees with what seemed like a stem of cursed flower perched on your chest, he knew it was something else.

You were gasping for breath, clutching your chest in pain while Panda supported your weakened form, and seeing you like that apparently was too much for him. For the first time, Gojo regretted his decision. He shouldn't have pursued the enemy first. He should have gone to you first.

His instinct took over as he swiftly tore you away from Panda’s arms, drawing you close to his chest. His mind went blank, but he forced himself to focus on you, on what was causing you pain. "Y/N, calm down—"

"It hurts—!" you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm tightly, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts so much... I-I..."

For Gojo, this was a form of torture he hadn't realized before. For him, seeing you smile should have been the default, not this sobbing, injured, vulnerable state you were in now.

"I'll take you to Shoko. You'll be fine," he murmured decisively into your ear as you slumped against him. His grip around you tightened, and he repeated, "You'll be fine, I promise."

In the midst of your foggy mind, a realization struck—this was the second time you were ever held in his arms. And much like the first time, you felt an overwhelming sense of security.

Ah, but he had rejected you. You should know your place. You really should because pining on someone who didn't want you wasn't a wise thing to do.

But just this once...

Stupid. You were stupid indeed.

Because you chose to bask in this very short fantasy, fervently wishing that the heavens would grant you this sweet dream of him holding you in his arms like just this for a little longer.

As Gojo quietly observed you resting after being tended by Shoko, numerous thoughts swirled through his mind.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

That was not true. He didn't mean to treat you like a child, because you were indeed not. You were a grown woman now, no longer the crying child consoled by Tsumiki and protected by Megumi as you were back then.

Once, you were this young bud he was meant to nurture into strength, but now despite himself, he saw you more as a woman rather than his protege. He wanted to see you bloom into this pretty girl he had always known you were, always innocent and protected—and a selfish part of himself would add: preferably by himself.

You were so serene. You looked so soft too as you laid there. Gojo thought this wasn't quite right and he couldn't quite get the image of you screaming in pain out of his peripheral thoughts.

Had he truly fallen? This strong urge to protect you, ensure your happiness, see you always smiling—it was as if these emotions were suddenly planted, but immediately establishing themselves like deep-rooted feelings that wouldn't fade away easily.

No, actually... who was he kidding? It was what he had kept to himself for a while now. He just refused to acknowledge these feelings out of the misguided sense of propriety.

It was all he could think of from the moment you passed out until you awakened. He pasted a smile on his face when you opened your eyes to his face.

"Ah, Gojo-sensei..." you mumbled, still disoriented. The way you looked at him was as if you were spooked, to say the least, and it bugged him. "Sorry, how long have I passed out?"

"Just a few hours. Are you okay? Do you still feel the pain?"

"Uh... a bit, but I'm okay..."

Normally, he never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you. This was too obvious. You were uncomfortable with him, and he noticed it.

You also seemed acutely aware of this immensely awkward situation. Having spent the majority of your life with him, you used to be open and at ease around him. But now, it wasn't the same. All because of your reckless confession before.

You spent the first few hours with occasional silence. Eventually, Gojo stepped away for a while, leaving behind a lingering sense of discomfort instilled within you.

You remembered the feeling of being in his arms. Once again, he saved you. The least you could do is to express your gratitude.

I don’t like this. It had been two months already. You had to put an end to this unbearable tension. You couldn't force him to return your feelings—you understood that now. And to make it to the way it used to be, you had to make it clear to Gojo too.

And so when he was back to your room, you braved yourself again. For the second and last time.

"Gojo-sensei," you breathed out, willing your shaky hands at bay. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. Please forget what I said before."

What is this now? Gojo blinked, stopping right in his tracks, somehow hearing how you started with a "sorry" didn't sit well with him.

You continued. "Maybe you are right. I'm grateful for you, I look up to you... for the longest time, I might even have idolized you."

Wait...

"But it isn't love," you said with finality, looking away. "This is me admiring you, for all things you have done for me. And even if it is, I still can't force you to look at me in that way."

Gojo could only gaze at you in silence, a storm raging inside his chest. This was what he had hoped you would realize when you confessed your feelings back then, but now—

"I don't like how... we are now," you gulped. "And it's my fault. So I'm taking it back—"

“No, just—” This wasn’t right. Gojo knows it, but why is he saying this? “Just wait for a minute.”

You started as someone he wanted to protect, along with Megumi and Tsumiki. And then you grew up right in front of his eyes. Someone like you, who had gone through many horrors in life ever since young should have someone dependable and strong who could make you happy.

But then Gojo thought, he didn’t like how others looked at you. Heck, in his eyes, they were inadequate for you, if anything.

“Sensei?” you looked up to him with that doe eyes of yours, and Gojo Satoru felt like this was enough.

To hell with you finding someone your age.

He was strong—the strongest, and if it’s him, he most definitely could protect you far better than anyone.

He could make you laugh—had been for years already, and nothing would stop him now.

He would be damned should you somehow go to the grubby hands of the Zen’in.

“Keep your eyes on me,” his somber voice said then, causing your heart to skip a beat in response.

In short, he was better-suited for you more than anyone else ever could, in every possible aspect.

Apparently he was right. Your place was by his side, after all.

“…because from now, I might start looking at you too.”

3K notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 4 months ago

Text

When He First Got Me

Title: When He First Got Me Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #nomad steve x reader #slashersummerwc #sundae bar #female reader #aspen wrote something #exiled nomad series

901 notes · View notes

thebutchersbitch · 2 months ago

Note

Sorry if this goes against what you write I couldn't find like a request dos and don't thingy lol but I would love if you wrote about a reader who has to get chained up or locked up every night before they go to sleep because cooper cant trust you won't run away, but one day the restraints are loose or not locked (maybe he does it on purpose to test you) and you decide to stay put because you love him and then he rewards you 🫣

This story can be read alone or as Part Two of this one!! 😊

18+ only

Daddy kink/DDLG | Stockholm Syndrome | Breeding kink | Reader was kidnapped by Cooper months ago, taken from her home and husband, but has forgotten her former life entirely while under Cooper’s manipulation and control

Cooper’s jaw was tense as he pulled out of the driveway. He’d made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. The consequences of the test he was currently giving you could be lethal to his entire world…and yet, he needed to test your loyalty to him. It wasn’t enough for Cooper to hear you profess with words your love for him. Words alone meant nothing; as a skilled liar, Cooper knew this all too well. He needed real, irrefutable proof that even when given the choice of escape, you’d still be waiting for him when he returned to the safe house.

It’s why he’d left the keys to your cuffs on the table at your side of the bed, where you could easily reach them. If he returned to the house that afternoon on his lunch break and you were still there…then at last, Cooper would have his answer. If however, you’d used the opportunity to escape, then his entire life would be in your hands. Either way, Cooper had to know what would happen if he tested you. He sighed deeply through his nose, lips pressed into a stern, flat line. He looked back at the house one last time before leaving, hoping his instincts about his little girl’s loyalty to him would prove correct…

The hours at the fire station passed by easily enough. When lunch time arrived, Cooper made an excuse to the men working under him about needing an extended break. Family stuff, he lied explained. Really, he needed to go check on his girl.

He packed up his lunch and brought it to the car with him. Cooper drove the few miles from the station to the safe house he kept you in, listening to a local news and weather report on the radio, taking a few distracted bites of his sandwich on the way.

When you heard Cooper’s car come to a stop outside the house, your heart rate kicked up a notch. The handcuffs he’d left you in were now sitting with the keys on your nightstand beside you. Unaware that you were being tested, you’d taken advantage of Cooper’s ‘mistake,’ in leaving the keys within your reach. This will finally prove it to him, you thought. Cooper would see that even with the ability to leave him, you’d choose to stay.

Cooper entered the house downstairs, listening. It was quiet…too quiet. Perhaps you were sleeping, Cooper wondered. Apprehension built within him as his fears you’d escaped multiplied. He passed the stairs quickly, his steps heavy down the carpeted hall that led to the bedroom. You smiled when Cooper’s boots became visible in the crack under the door. He seemed to pause, inhaling a deep breath before pulling back the door. Met with the sight of you sitting on the bed, Cooper felt a sense of peace sink over him. He swallowed the lump of nerves that had been building in his throat, leaning inside the doorway, smiling at his girl. “Hi baby,” he said, and in spite of hearing Cooper’s voice nearly every day for the past ten months, your cheeks still warmed bashfully.

He looked so goddamn handsome, so big, illuminated in the doorway with the hallway light behind him.

Cooper looked at the table beside you, and then your wrist. His test had been successful. You’d proven yourself just as beautifully broken as Cooper hoped you were. He’d never been more proud of his little girl.

“I took the cuffs off,” you said, a little worried. “I hope you’re not mad at me, Daddy.” Cooper shook his head.

“Far from it,” he replied softly. Cooper didn’t hesitate a second longer before taking three quick strides to the bed, and climbing on top of you. Your legs parted instinctively for him, the soft outline of your pussy puffy and warm as Cooper rubbed himself against you.

His kisses on your neck were tender, grateful. He needed this, even more than he’d thought. The knowledge that you were truly his had Cooper’s mind spinning in the best way, his body flooded with adrenaline and happiness. His cock was already stiff against your cunt; he reached between your bodies and undid his jeans, relieving some of the pressure. Cooper’s kisses traveled lower, between your breasts and down your belly. When his tongue traced the outline of your bellybutton, a little giggle shivered out of you. The giggle was quickly silenced and exchanged for a whimper when Cooper’s mouth latched over your pussy.

Any remaining tension in his mind melted away into the moist heat of your cunt. Cooper couldn’t think straight when his face was between your legs, your fingers tugging at his hair, his tongue buried in the soft folds of your pussy. All he could focus on was your sweet taste, the slick smearing across his cheeks as he nuzzled your folds. You rotated your hips side to side, seeking the end of Cooper’s nose to rub your clit against. He sucked fat, wet kisses onto your pussy, a filthy squelch following each.

His shoulders were nestled between your thighs, his chest and belly against the bed as he ate you. Cooper’s arms hooked around your upper legs, his fingers laced together on top of your belly, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away from him no matter how hard you came. Pearly liquid oozed from your pussy in between Cooper’s lips, his mouth sealing over your cunt and lightly sucking. The pulsing pressure made your legs twitch, prompting Cooper to lock his arms even tighter across your belly, a proud smirk finding his lips as he realized how close you were.

“So good for me, baby,” Cooper hummed against your pussy, his words interspersed with little kisses and sucks. “Such a good little pussy…all pretty and puffy, just begging for Daddy to kiss it…” He spanked his palm lightly against your cunt, watching your pussy flinch and your tiny hole pucker.

Making you come was what Cooper lived for in this moment. Any time his face was between your legs, your pleasure was all that mattered to him, now more than ever. You’d done so well, proved yourself loyal to him in the most definitive way possible. You needed to be rewarded, to be shown exactly how much Cooper appreciated knowing that his little girl was truly, unquestionably his. Nothing existed beyond the space where Cooper’s face was nestled, his eyes closed in a drug-like satisfaction, your warm thighs acting as earmuffs to seal away the world around him.

Cooper ate you for an hour straight, without a single pause to rest his jaw or tongue. Your ass was sitting in a little puddle of your own juices by the time he was finished. He reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with slippery fingers. He cursed when he saw the time. “Have to get back,” he murmured, returning his phone to his pocket, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Cooper kissed your belly and lifted himself off the bed, stuffing his cock back in his jeans.

He slicked back his hair, wiping his wet chin on his sleeve. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you told him in a small voice. Cooper nodded as he gently pulled your panties back up. “I know angel,” he said. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.” He winked up at you. “Promise.” Cooper reminded you to eat the lunch he’d brought you from the station, and to get plenty of rest while he was gone. You’d need it for tomorrow, he said. “Because tomorrow,” Cooper explained. “When Daddy gets home, he’s gonna put his dick where his tongue was for the past hour.” Cooper’s tone was darker, a sincerity in his voice that was thick with lust. “And I’m not gonna stop,” he continued. “Till I’ve put a baby inside you.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Yeah,” Cooper nodded, sensing your confusion. “You’re going to make me a real daddy again, angel.” He leaned closer and cupped your cheek tenderly. “I know that I can trust you now,” Cooper said, an affectionate grin on his lips. “You won’t leave me. That means I can trust you to carry my children.” He sat down on the bed beside you. “Rachel is…” Cooper paused. “She won’t give me anymore kids. It’s fine, it’s her choice, but-.” Cooper sighed. “I want more. You’ll give them to me.” You felt a little dizzy, not just from coming so hard for an hour straight. Cooper’s plans for you had caught you off guard.

“Isn’t that right honey?” Cooper asked, but he wasn’t really asking at all. “You’ll make me a daddy as many times as I want, won’t you?” You nodded slowly, absorbing Cooper’s words. “We’ll deliver the babies here,” Cooper continued, matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry about safety-I’ll make sure it’s safe. I have the training. I can deliver our babies right here-.” Cooper patted the bed, a confident smile on his face. “Firefighters are trained to deliver babies on the job if necessary.” His voice was cheerful. “Did you know that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head ‘no,’ still processing Cooper’s plans for you. He rose from the bed once again, sighing contentedly as he headed for the door. “You’ll make an excellent mother,” Cooper told you. “Much better than mine. I know it.” He patted the doorframe on his way out. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

621 notes · View notes

buckys-wintersoldier · 3 months ago

Text

Evidence of love | B.B

Happy Birthday, Sebby! Since I don’t write RPF anymore, I decided to publish this one. It’s a sweet, fluffy Bucky one.

Dating is something for handsome, beautiful people, isn’t it? But if the trust in yourself is destroyed once, it needs a good idea to proof what real love means.

//Pairing// Avengers!Bucky Barnes x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

//Wordcount// 2.394 Words

//Warnings// shitty ex-boyfriend, Bucky being adorable, talking about weight, feeling insecure because of weight, fluff

//Request// Hey i hope you’re doing well i have an idea for a one shot and was wondering if you could write it. So basically Bucky hears the reader talking to Natasha or anyone that she thinks she’s too heavy for any partner and that she has given up on dating for a while because of that, and of course Bucky hearing that he starts lifting heavy stuff such as weights, machines or even Steve😭 around the reader to show her he can easily lift her weight as well because he has feelings for her and you can add or change whatever you like and make it smutty idk whatever you think is right i trust your skills.

//Authors Note// Thank you for the request, I hope you like it. That’s such a sweet idea and I tried not to change much about it.

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

After the breakup with your ex-boyfriend, you found comfort in your room between romantic movies, thick blankets, your favorite clothes, and snacks. You were tired of the whole dating thing, not wanting to get those dick pics anymore or go out with someone who talks hours and hours about himself and the way it’s nice to be vegan.

You always had some soft flesh on your belly and your thighs, but you loved it. You didn’t want to look like a model girl; you liked who you were, but unfortunately, you stopped thinking like that the moment your ex-boyfriend broke up with you.

He used to love the soft flesh on your body, feeling always comfortable when he placed his head on your stomach or loving to grip the soft flesh when he made love to you. He was telling you how pretty and good you are, but that changed at some point, and he talked less positively about you, he didn’t look at you the same way and tried to make you feel ugly — and that’s what he managed to do.

“Y-you did what?” You asked with an open mouth and widened eyes. Your mouth dropped open the moment those words left his lips, and he didn’t even look sorry for what he just did. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him right — not because he didn’t speak clearly, but because you couldn’t believe what he just said.

“You heard me right!” He growled, rolling his eyes. He didn’t even look bothered by it, he didn’t care. Your fear came true, and he said it like it’s nothing, like the relationship the two of you had never meant anything special to him — like cheating never means anything bad, just fun. “Haven’t you looked into a mirror? I thought you would finally notice that you’re fat. What do you think is the reason we aren’t doing anything intimate anymore?”

You swallowed thickly, unsure what to say. There are so many thoughts, but at the same time, none at all. You thought he loved you, thought he liked you the way you are — the way you look, but now it turns out he didn’t love — not even liked it. You never felt so ashamed and self-hatred as you just did. There wasn’t much intimacy between the two of you, but wasn’t it just because of your busy jobs?

The thought of having a bit more flesh in some parts of your body crossed your mind sometimes, when you ordered something and people looked at you, when you were standing in front of a mirror — but actually, the people didn’t really look at you, they were looking around. And in the mirror? You had some more fat on your belly or thighs, but it never looked unhealthy, and it suits you.

He always made sure to assure you that he didn’t mind that you had some more fat, he even liked it. It’s what he said, what you thought, but then he cheated on you and told you you’re fat?

“I- uhm. But why didn’t you tell me?” You asked the first question that came to mind. The first question, which has nothing to do with whoever he fucked — if she looked better, if she made him come better, if he could try more with her. You don’t want to hurt yourself with all those questions, so you just asked the first one that came to mind, excluding her.

“Telling you that you’re fat and ugly? Though you noticed it yourself, it looks like you didn’t. Now get your shit together and don’t make a big deal out of it,” he groaned, annoyed to be stuck in that conversation.

After that conversation, you made a really big deal out of it. You didn’t want to annoy him any further, but he cheated on you. He didn’t cheat on you just one time, he did it over and over again, making sure you hate yourself more than you hate him, blaming you for his mistakes and his decisions — especially when it came to cheating, you were the reason because you didn’t give him what he needed.

First, you tried to accept it and change yourself for him, but he turned more and more into a dick. The love you felt for him slowly faded away, and there was nothing left — no love, no hate — and then you knew you had already moved on without realizing it. You distanced yourself for your own good and were finally able to leave him behind.

Plus, he found a girl, he cheated on you for a while before he thought he wanted to be with her. Luckily, at the time, you didn’t care about him anymore, so it didn’t hurt you. That was around half a year ago, and even though you didn’t care anymore, you haven’t dated someone after him, scared of a man being abusive again.

But since you’re living with the other avengers at the compound, you have enough company around you. You don’t need to date a stranger to be happy, you have your family and friends around you. Plus, the dating apps you tried were weird, getting dick pictures and kind of sex messages wasn’t something you liked — especially if you didn’t really know the person.

Natasha sits next to you on the couch and grins at you. She just shows you another picture of some guy you could date if you want. Ever since you told her about the dating apps, she has tried to find a date for you, but you always say no, except when the picture shows a dog.

“Nat! I don’t want to date this guy. He looks handsome and muscular, but people like him don’t want to be with someone like me,” you say, shaking your head. You moved on after your ex, but ever since, you feel more insecure about your body and the way you look.

“Oh, come on. Do you want to hide because of your ex?” She asks, showing you another picture of a guy who looks pretty similar to the other ones she showed you before — muscular and handsome. “What about this guy?”

“Nat! My ex showed me that I’m fat and ugly, he cheated on me with a model. I don’t think any guy wants to have a girl he can’t even carry or wrap his arms properly around. And I’m good,” you sigh, a soft smile across your lips when you look at your friend.

She shakes her head, knowing that you love being held and close to someone who loves you. You would love to have someone who loves you for who you are and doesn’t mind that you’re not the perfect model size.

Little do you know that Bucky is standing on the floor that leads into the living room, where you and Natasha sit. He overhears your whole conversation with your friend, his hands turn into fists because of your ex, but when he hears you talking about yourself, his heart aches. How can you think about yourself like that? How can you think that no one cares about that all? And he could easily lift you and carry you around?

For him, you’re beautiful and the sweetest girl he has ever met. No one should care if they can carry their girls around or hug them ‘properly’ because there are so many more ways to show love, and hugs are hugs. Plus, Bucky loves it when you allow him to hug you.

The brown-haired man has had a crush on you since forever, and he would love to show you how pretty and perfect you are. He fell in love with you because you’re always so kind and sweet — especially around him, and you always care when you notice that he doesn’t feel too comfortable sometimes.

Bucky would love to show you exactly how much love and care you deserve, so he just smirks to himself after a moment — he has the best idea to show you that he likes you.

The next few weeks, he makes sure to always be around you when you’re training, you mostly run on the treadmill. Bucky uses the heaviest weights to lift them, making sure you see him doing it. He has way more strength than you thought, but his super ability makes it easy for him to lift even the heaviest things.

When the two of you aren’t training, he sometimes moves the chairs or even the couch, telling them it's more comfortable there, even though he just lifted them, walked through the room, and placed them in the same place they stood before.

And when there is nothing to move around the two of you, he picks up Steve, Tony, Thor, or Sam to carry around. Not only to annoy them a bit, but mostly because he wants to impress you and wants you to notice that he wouldn’t have trouble lifting you.

“Bucky?” You ask softly when you find him on the couch in the living room. The other Avengers are currently on a mission, so it’s just the two of you in the tower. He looks up from the television and smiles at you. “Could we talk?”

He nods, patting the spot next to him on the couch, and waits for you to sit down. Bucky notices your worried and slightly confused expression immediately, he shits in his seat, turning to look at you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his big hand moving over his thighs to yours and staying on your knee.

“I am, but I’m worried about you. You’re lifting so much and often. Do you think you need to train your muscles better, or do you think you’re not looking good?” You ask, placing your own hand on his bigger one. “Because you look handsome and you’re well trained. If there is a woman who wants you to change, she- she isn’t worth your time, then Buck.”

He chuckles softly, sighing softly. You’re so adorable, asking him why he lifts such heavy things and even thinking it’s for a girl — another girl. But you don’t notice that he is trying to impress you, trying to show you that he wants you, even though you have some fluff flesh at your belly and thighs.

“I’m good! I mean, I lift things, and it's for a woman, but not like you think. You remember the conversation you had with Nat as she showed you some pictures of guys you could date?” He asks, rubbing his thumb over your knee.

You nod, narrowing your eyebrows. How can he know about that conversation? Did Nat tell him about it? But your thoughts are interrupted when he gently pinches your flesh to get your attention.

“I heard you two talking. I didn’t mean to, but when she mentioned those guys, you know? However, I—uhm.” Bucky feels his cheeks heat up, he doesn’t know what to say. Maybe he could just kiss you, and then you know what he means. But maybe he is out of practice, or you don’t even want to kiss him. “I don’t want you to think you’re fat or too heavy. You’re pretty and sweet, and when I always lifted the things I just wanted— I wanted to impress you and show you that I could easily lift you too.”

You giggle as Bucky blushes even more. He is such a sweetheart, and you love being around him, you even have feelings for him. But he is a handsome, sweet super soldier, and you are — just you. You don’t want to waste his time, but little do you know that Bucky would never think about it like that. With his words, it would be more like ‘every second without you is wasted time’.

“But you always impress me, when it’s just a tea you make me, when you just hug me. Whatever you do, I’m impressed by you, Bucky,” you say, smiling at him.

“Are you?” He asks, his eyes widen, and you chuckle softly. His ocean blue eyes focused on you, taking in every slight change in your expression, but there is nothing but love.

“I’m impressed by you, yes.”

He grins. He has so much to say, but he feels like he can’t. His tongue is kind of blocked, but there are too many thoughts, or just the thought that he could say something, and it doesn’t sound as good as he wants it to sound, so he has a better idea — one that will say everything and nothing at the same time.

The brown-haired man brings his metal hand to your chin, grasping it as softly as he can, and holds you in place. He then leans closer, his warm breath against your lips, and your eyes flutter shut. Bucky sees that movement as permission and leans closer until his soft, plump lips are pressed against.

A dream you both have had since forever now comes true. You never thought they would feel the same way about you as you do for him, but here you are. He showed you in the sweetest way that he doesn’t mind how you look and that he loves you because you’re you — just like you love him because he is your Bucky.

And maybe it wasn’t just your weight or your ex that stopped you from wanting to date. Maybe it was also your heart because it knew what it wanted, and now he gets exactly that.

Bucky moves forward, closer to you, both of his hands surrounding your waist, and you feel his hands creeping along your sides and back until he interlocks his fingers and taps your back with his thumbs.

“I can wrap my arms around you, plus I can lift you; is there anything else you want me to do to prove that you’re the most adorable and beautiful woman a man can be with?” He asks before pressing his lips against yours once again. There is nothing more you need him to prove his point, because you know he would manage to find a way to show you that he is right, that you’re pretty, and even if he has to carry furniture or your friends around for you, he would do everything he can as long as you’re happy — with Bucky.

//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo@im-alestan @lives-in-midgard

427 notes · View notes

dumb-ghost-child · 1 year ago

Text

Humans are weird: lifespan

Clara had known the mission was a bad idea. That guess was reinforced when the ship crashed. The other members of her little crew had died on impact, but she’d only been injured. From her guess it was just a few broken or otherwise messed up bones- annoying, yes, but not irreparable. She’d tried communicating with her crew, sending out transmissions and mentally screaming for Indigo, but nothing came to her rescue.

By some miracle, the air was breathable. The climate was on the warmer side, reminding her of the Caribbeans. It was quite nice, and if it weren’t for the three moons, binary star system, and the lavender sky, she would’ve been able to believe this was in a familiar system.

She stumbled out of the ship, swearing to herself when she saw what a wreck it was; there was no way she’d be getting back into the air with that.

Instead, she looked around. It appeared that she’d landed in a field of sorts- on the horizon she saw what appeared to be a civilization, maybe a town, and around her were tall trees that had pear-like fruits on them. A quick scan said they were edible, so she grabbed one. It was perfectly at her shoulder level, which she appreciated. The fruit was tasty, reminding her of earth’s apples or the kalrin-fruits Indigo had introduced to her.

It took a few minutes, but soon Clara had made herself a splint for her broken arm and gathered what she could from the ship’s remains.

She was about to make her way towards the town when she heard a strange chittering noise behind her. The translator didn’t pick it up, which either meant this was an undiscovered language or it was broken- it was really a 50/50 chance. Turning around, she saw a small creature, maybe reaching up to her knees, chittering at her. It seemed to be a bit scared, but still interested. It gestured for her to follow it, which she did, being led to another small town. All around her were the little creatures, rushing about, some coming up to her. They were cute, in a way, with mint-green skin, four arms, fur down their backs, six large eyes- well, she assumed they were eyes- and a bipedal walking pattern. They led her to a building with what appeared to be a collapsed roof, which only reached up to her head. Easily enough she fixed it, and the creatures seemed happy, surrounding her and making those same chittering noises, much more happy-sounding this time.

The Chiri, as Clara called them, were a fascinating civilization. They had a complex language of clicks, chirps, and assorted chittering sounds that took Clara a while to learn properly. Their planet was far faster than earth, one of earth’s weeks was the equivalent of a month for them, and an earth month was the equivalent of a year. Most Chiri only lived for a few of their years, but their lives were filled with celebration. It felt like every week Clara got invited to a new celebration- either a wedding, a coming of age, a new harvest, or even a funeral. Even though Clara took only around six months to fully recover, by that point she had become known as a Chiri guardian. She’d been on the planet for a number of their years, becoming a guardian figure. Where her ship had crashed was turned into a shrine of sorts, new towns being built around it. In exchange, Clara protected them, guided them, and shared her knowledge with them. She’d even learned their language to the point where it was as fluent as any other, even without her translator, which she was fairly certain had broken.

The Chiri had given Clara a new name that they called her, Xi-Rai’du. Most of the children knew her as Xixi.

Clara trusted her friends, they’d taken her in and healed her. They felt like family just as much as her crew on the ship did. Despite their short lives, the Chiri were a people who valued learning. They passed down stories from generation to generation, and Clara would help to remember them as well. She taught them to write, transcribing their stories.

One of the young rushed towards Clara, a little girl who had only recently become old enough to talk. “Xixi! Xixi! There you are!” The little one, her name Si’ra, reached out her four arms for Clara to lift her up, making a high-pitched noise that was roughly the same as a laugh. “The celebration was about to start without you, come! Dari and Lixai want you there!”

Clara nodded, smiling. Dari and Lixai were getting married, and Clara didn’t want to miss out. Still carrying Si’ra, Clara made her way towards the town.

All around the town were banners decorated in vibrant colors, flowers in every windowsill and a clear trail of petals leading to where the wedding would take place. Clara had always loved the Chiri’s celebrations, they were all filled with laugher, music, dancing and festivities that could go for days. As soon as Clara showed up, she was surrounded by lively music, cheers from the Chiri who’d arrived for the celebration, and the greeting of Dari and Lixai, both wearing gorgeous formal attire. Clara bowed to them, smiling as she let Si’ra down, watching her rush towards the other children to join in there game.

“Lady Xi-Rai’du, welcome.” Lixai spoke first, joy clear in all six of her eyes.

Clara shook her head, “Today isn’t a day for celebrating me, it’s for you two.” She gestured to the crowd, “They’re all here for you- so go, celebrate! You’ve earned it.”

Lixai and Dari smiled, taking Clara’s hand and leading her into the crowd.

The wedding was a joyous one, and Clara couldn’t help but feel incredibly proud of Lixai and Dari. Weddings were a major event for both humans and chiri, although the chiri certainly had a more lively celebration all the way through.

The next day, Clara went to the cave where the Chiri kept murals of all their major events. She smiled as she looked, seeing paintings of herself defending the town from wild beasts, celebrating amongst them, and even when she’d first arrived, now over a year ago.

Deep down though, she knew couldn’t stay. Her crew still needed her, and she knew the Chiri had to grow into a full civilization on their own. She was torn out of her mind though when she heard what sounded like screams outside. Sa’ri rushed in, panicked. “Xixi! Help! There are- there’s something outside!”

Clara, admittedly, panicked. She picked Sa’ri up again, letting the girl lead her out. As soon as she left she saw the cause of the panic. In the sky above was a ship. Her ship.

As soon as it landed, Clara put herself between the ship and the Chiri. She faced the panicked crowd, trying to keep order. “All of you! Please, calm down. These newcomers mean no harm.”

The Chiri trusted her, more or less calming down. Clara sighed in relief, facing the ship as the bridge lowered. What she saw surprised her- another human.

It took a moment for Clara to realize they were speaking English- she’d become so used to hearing the chiri’s language of chirps and squeaks- but when she registered what they were saying she almost laughed. It was a declaration of peace, saying they were only doing a recovery mission. Apparently they’d finally gotten the distress signal Clara had sent when she first was crashing, tracing it back to her.

Clara approached the ship, Sa’ri in her arms, and faced the stranger.

“If you’re looking for the recon group that was sent out here a little over a year ago..” she sighed, “I’m all that’s left. I’ve been living on this planet for the past year, and the civilization you see have helped me. They nursed me back to health, gave me a place to stay, and trusted me.” Behind her were the people who she’d protected for what were generations to them. “My name is Clara.. but it is also Xi-Rai’du, and these are the chiri.”

The human seemed shocked, but they didn’t do anything agressive.

“The crew thought you’d died..” they muttered, “they hired me as a replacement. How are you even alive?!”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “I told you. The chiri took me in, and the planet’s atmosphere is breathable.” she put Sa’ri down, and she hugged my leg before running back to her family, as though sensing that this would be the last time she saw her. “I assume you’re here to bring me back now that you know I’m alive?”

They nodded, gesturing for Clara to follow them.

“Just give me a second,” Clara turned to face the Chiri, bowing to them and switching back to their language. “Thank you, all of you. Now I must leave.. but I will return. Reach for the stars, and perhaps we will meet in the cosmos one day.”

The chiri seemed to understand, solemnly accepting that their guardian was leaving.

“Xixi!” Sa’ri called up from the crowd, “I’ll find you again, I promise!”

She turned, nodding to the fellow human. “Bring me back onto the ship.”

Maybe, just maybe, part of the reason she’d turned was because she wanted to hide the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. But when she returned onto the ship, Clara was reminded of where she belonged, amongst her family in the stars. The chiri had been kind, but she had to go. Besides, when Indigo saw her again, xir expression just about made all of the time away worth it.

#whoo boy #this went in every direction except for the one I thought it would go in #emotional? Maybe?#humans are weird #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #lifespan #sci fi

3K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 5 months ago

Text

virgin!mingyu x reader

warnings: first time experience, oral, hair grabbing, cock riding, slightly nipple play (m receiving)...

you and mingyu always bicker. it's your thing. teasing, mocking—it's all part of the routine. recently, though, you’ve been working on a college project with wonwoo, mingyu’s roommate.

mingyu had just broken up with his girlfriend from campus a little while ago. wonwoo mentioned that his girlfriend lost patience with mingyu because he didn’t want to have sex with her.

what she didn’t know was that he’s still a virgin.

when you heard that, you felt sad. mingyu isn’t a bad person at all.you remember back in high school when you were the one being mocked for never having kissed anyone. mingyu, hearing all the fuss in the canteen, just walked over and kissed you. it made all the teasing stop.

you didn’t like that the gossip was about him now. one evening, wonwoo excuses himself, saying he needs to go to his parents' home. he leaves you at their dorm to finish the project, knowing mingyu is around.

“hey, can you pass me the glue?” you ask, not looking up from your work.

mingyu, lounging on his bed with a comic book, grumbles but gets up and hands it to you. “you know, you could get it yourself,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.“

“yeah, but then i’d miss out on this delightful conversation,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

there’s a pause, then mingyu sits down across from you, watching you work.

it’s quiet, almost too quiet, and you can feel his eyes on you.

finally, you break the silence.“so, uh, wonwoo told me about you and your girlfriend,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.mingyu’s expression darkens a bit.

“oh, he did, did he?”

“yeah. i just… i’m sorry. she didn’t deserve to know anyway,” you say, fumbling with the glue cap.

he raises an eyebrow. “didn’t deserve to know what?”

“that you’re… you know, still a virgin,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

mingyu sighs and leans back in his chair. “it’s not something i’m ashamed of, you know. it’s just… private.”

“yeah, i get it. people can be really judgmental about stuff like that,” you say, thinking back to high school again.

“like when you hadn’t kissed anyone yet,” mingyu says, reading your mind.

“exactly,” you say, smiling a little. “that day in the canteen… you really saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

he chuckles. “i remember. your face was so red.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at him.

he catches it easily, tossing it back. “i just didn’t want them to make you feel bad. you didn’t deserve it.”

“neither do you,” you say softly. “i think i... can help if you want to,” you say softly, feeling your cheeks warm up.

mingyu looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “help with what?”

you swallow, feeling a bit nervous but determined. “with, you know, the whole... virgin thing.”

his eyes widen, and he sits up straighter. “wait, are you saying...?”

“yeah,” you interrupt, feeling a bit more confident. “i mean, if you want to, that is. no pressure.”

mingyu is silent for a moment, processing what you just said. then he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve seen a hundred times. “why would you want to do that?”

“because you deserve someone who cares and won’t judge you,” you say simply. “and because... i trust you.”

he looks at you, searching your face for any hint of a joke or insincerity. finding none, he takes a deep breath. “are you sure? i mean, we’ve always just...”

“bickered? yeah, i know. but there’s more to us than that,” you say, moving closer to him. “i think we’ve always known that, deep down.”

mingyu’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to take your hand. “okay. i trust you too.”

you both sit there for a moment, holding hands and letting the reality of the situation sink in. then, with a small smile, you lean in and kiss him.

you lean in and kiss him, feeling the softness of his lips and the tentative way he kisses back. it’s gentle at first, but soon the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. your hands move to his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

you break the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and across his chest. you plant a soft kiss on each of his nipples, hearing his sharp intake of breath, a soft moan escaping his lips. his embarrassment is endearing, but you can tell he’s enjoying it.

“relax,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “just enjoy it.”

you continue your path downward, kissing and nibbling along his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, seeing the anticipation and nervousness in his eyes. you slide his pants down, freeing him from the confines of his clothes.

taking him into your hand, you give him a reassuring smile before lowering your mouth to him. your tongue flicks out, tasting the saltiness of his skin, and you can feel him shudder. as you take him deeper into your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and suck gently, eliciting a deep moan from him.

his hand tangles in your hair, not guiding, just holding, as if he needs the connection to ground himself. you start to move, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. your spit makes everything slick, and you can taste the faint hint of precum.

you take him deeper, trying to relax your throat as you push him further in. his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his breath hitch. your fingers trail along his length, adding to the sensation, and you glance up to see his eyes half-closed, mouth slightly open in pleasure.

as you increase your pace, taking him as deep as you can, you press a finger gently against the slit at the tip, preventing him from reaching his climax too soon. he groans, the sound desperate and full of need.

“please,” he whispers, his voice strained.

you pull back, letting him slip from your mouth. “not yet,” you murmur, climbing back up to straddle him. you align yourself with him, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him.

the feeling is intense for both of you, and you take a moment to adjust, watching the way his eyes widen with the new sensation. you start to move, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm. his hands find your waist, holding you as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groans, his grip tightening.

you smile down at him, leaning forward to kiss him again. the kiss is hungry, filled with the heat of the moment. as you move faster, you can feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more erratic.

you adjust your angle, finding that perfect spot that makes both of you see stars. his moans grow louder, and you can tell he’s right on the edge. you pick up the pace, wanting to give him an unforgettable first time.

“come for me, mingyu,” you whisper against his lips.

with a final, deep thrust, he cries out, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax. the feeling of him coming inside you sends you over the edge as well, and you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing hard, sweat-slicked and spent. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

“that was...” he begins, but he doesn’t seem to have the words.

“unforgettable?” you suggest, smiling as you nuzzle into his neck.

“yeah,” he agrees, his voice full of awe and gratitude. “unforgettable.”

687 notes · View notes

starlightandsouls · 5 months ago

Text

Yours to Save, Yours to Guard

Part 2 of Yours to Have, Yours to Break

Summary: Azriel and Reader pick up the pieces of Cassian's mistake.

Warnings: angst (?), severe panic attack

A/N: it's finally here guys. I actually loved how this one turned out, filled to the brim with lots of angst and emotions that is typical of my work. I feel like last time I rushed the first part so it wasn't as impactful. Anywaysss, I hope you guys like this as much as I do, and please leave a comment telling me what you think. My motivation levels are lowwww rn and your comments always make my day!

Azriel POV

Agony tore through his heart like a viper striking its prey. Its poison seeping through his veins and making an act as simple as breathing seem laborious. How did everything collapse so quickly? How could he let it slip away from him so easily? His love… his nightingale was gone.

After somewhat coming to his senses, he had winnowed straight to his nightingale’s house, knowing that was where she would return. Just like him, she liked being alone when faced with the hurdles life threw at her. Just two sides of the same accursed coin. And that was where he found her; her room in a mess, belongings sprawled everywhere, and his nightingale sitting in the middle of it all, heaving with sobs. He had frozen at the sight, his wretched heart breaking even more. But the sound of her never ending tears had broken him out of his stupor.

Azriel immediately fell to his knees before and tried to grab her hands as he pleaded,

“My love, please, listen to me-”

He hadn’t had the chance to finish his sentenced before you wrenched your hands away from his, as if his very touch burned you. The thought of that pierced through his very being.

“Don’t touch me, you… You fucking cheat!” You roared. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; his nightingale never yelled at anyone, no matter how upset she was. He didn’t even know you were capable of such fury, let alone releasing it at him. You had gotten up from your place at the foot of your bed and had moved away from him to another corner of the room. Pointless as he followed you right away.

“It’s not what it looked like, will you please listen to me?”

“Really, Azriel? Could you sound any more typical right now? You know, if you had the guts to have an affair, you should have at least come up with a better excuse when you were with her,” you spat at him. The hatred burning bright in your eyes made him want to fall to his knees before you. But he knew he had to explain…he had to tell you what happened. This was his one chance, otherwise he’d lose you forever.

“I didn’t! I would never! I swear on my life, I have no idea why Elain was there, or why she did what she did. I had no part of it, I swear to you. Please just think about it. If I wanted to be with her, why would I have made plans with you? To celebrate our anniversary no less?” he pleaded.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you got tired of me, hm? Why mess around with some ‘commoner’ when you can have the High Lady’s sister?”

What? Where were you getting all this from? Why were you thinking like this? You weren’t like this and neither was he…and you…you knew that.

“Love…please,” Azriel begged as he moved closer trying to reach for your hands. Yet again you evaded him and moved away to another corner. It was as if the two were dancing a dance of push and pull, one always out of reach of the other. You turned around and just…looked at him.

“You know, when she came to me, and with everything she said…I didn’t believe her. Even when every part of my being was begging me to, I thought…my Azriel wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me, not her. Why couldn’t you keep my trust Azriel? Why did you shatter it like this?”

“Told you what? Love, please, if you don’t want to listen to me at least tell me what Elain said to you. So that I can prove to you that it is a lie.” Azriel was genuinely at a loss for words. As the situation progressed, he became more and more confused.

“She came to the bookshop before I left, Elain. At first I thought she was a customer, but no…she was there to steal something else altogether. And imagine how shocked I was when she told me that you have been having an affair with her for the past year. That the only reason the two of you kept it a secret was because of the High Lord. And now that he approves of your relationship, the two of you don’t have to hide anymore. Which is why you were going to break up with me today.”

Azriel fell quiet at that and stared at you for a good five minutes trying to process the words that just came out of your mouth. The sheer insanity of it only worsened his addled mind.

“Darling, that is…she’s lying. How can you believe her? Why would you believe her? What proof did she give you? Why would you trust some stranger over.. me?” Azriel demanded, his own anger rising. He was the innocent one here yet no one seemed to want to listen to him.

“Is it not the truth then?”

“NO!”

It was a battle of wills now. Both of you were simmering with fury right now- you with your rage at being betrayed and Azriel with his frustration at being ignored. Two sides of the same coin indeed.

Knowing he had to be the one to surrender, that be had to placate you if he wanted this relationship to survive, Azriel softened. He extinguished the rage that was threatening to burn their love to the ground and walked closer to you again. He reached for your hands to offer yet another apology, an explanation…anything to get you to show mercy.

But you snatched your hand back with such…disgust, as if his touch had burned you.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you fucking cheat!” you screamed, “don’t touch me!”

Azriel immediately let go of you. A thousand ash arrows could have pierced him on the battlefield and they would have hurt him less than the utter hate and disgust marring your usually soft features.

“Love…” A final plead, a final beg…the last thread holding them together. One last try of reaching out from the darkness he was drowning in.

“I said DON’T TOUCH ME! They were all right about you…you…you’re just another Illyrian brute who uses women as he pleases. I was a fool to think you were different, that you…you loved me.” All the hate had vanished in an instant from your face, replaced by something worse. In its place was a crestfallen defeat, the ravaging fire of fury replaced with silver tears now streaming down your face.

And it was the sight of your tears that told Azriel it was all lost… he had lost. He had sworn an oath once, to you, to himself, that he would never cause you an ounce of heartbreak.

The memory seemed bittersweet now. You had been crying because of some novel that you were reading as a hero had died tragically at the end. In his attempts to cheer you up he had remarked how this made him better than the heroes of novels that you always fawned over, for he never made you cry.

“Sure of ourselves are we?” you had asked with a smirk, your amusement returning to your gaze.

Mission accomplished, he had thought to himself.

“Of course, I never hurt you so there is no reason for you to cry,” he had answered.

“So do you promise then, Shadowsinger, that you will never make me cry?” you had jested.

“I swear on it my nightingale. I will never make you cry, I promise.”

It looked like you were thinking of the same memory, that now seemed almost a millennia ago. Had they been that happy? Was that what their life had been like? Happiness now seemed like a foreign country, whose borders had no room for immigrants like him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said before he winnowed away to his house in Velaris. Before shadows engulfed him completely, he could have sworn he saw you crumble to the ground.

…………………………………………...............................................

His lounge came into view, exactly as he had left it. But everything seemed strange, foreign. As he stood in the absolute silence of his house, the reality of what had happened settled in on him. He stumbled to the couch, his vision blurring slightly, making the journey troublesome.

Azriel’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled his house. The room spun around him, the walls closing in as if trying to crush him under the weight of his despair. He sank to the floor, his back against the couch where he and his nightingale had once spent countless evenings tangled together, laughing, and whispering secrets.

“She’s gone,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. His breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, and he felt like he was suffocating. He clutched his chest, the pressure unbearable. His mind raced with images of you just moments ago; you looking at him with such disgust, you wrenching your hands away from his, your tears streaming down your grief stricken face.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, rocking back and forth. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be gone. My nightingale can’t be gone.”

His vision blurred with tears, and he could barely see the room around him. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His fingers dug into the carpet, seeking some grounding, some way to make the pain stop. But nothing helped. The anguish was too deep, too consuming. How could this happen? How had he let this happen? His nightingale was the one gift he had stolen from the Mother. The one happiness he had gotten in this miserable life. It… It wasn’t fair. He always gave up every thing, he did everything for everyone…so why wasn’t he allowed this one happiness? Why did the Mother hate him so much to dangle this beautiful fate in front of him all these years only to snatch it away? Which one of his sins was he being punished for?

Memories of their time together flashed through his mind. Your smile, the way you looked at him with those eyes full of love, the sound of your laughter that always made his heart soar. And now, it was all gone. You were gone. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer, and he doubled over, choking on sobs.

“I need you,” he cried out, his voice breaking. “Please, come back. I can’t do this without you.”

But the silence was his only answer. The home that had once been their sanctuary now felt like a tomb, cold and empty. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t support him. He fell to his knees, his body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“Why did you leave?” he wailed, his voice echoing off the walls. “Why?”

His breath came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. He felt lightheaded, his vision tunneling. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm himself, but the panic was relentless. It clawed at him, tearing him apart from the inside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

But you weren’t there to hear him. You were gone, and he was alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. He was alone again, like he had always been, like he had always meant to be. The realization tore through him, a fresh wave of agony that left him breathless. He curled into a ball on the floor, his body wracked with sobs, and let the darkness close in.

…………………………………........................................................

Cassian POV:

He had stayed in the training arena long after his brother had left, trying to come up with a possible explanation. Azriel didn’t blow up like that… ever. No matter what trial or pain they were going through, his brother was the one who grounded them all; always a calm, stoic presence. For him to react this way, he knew something major had to have happened. But what?

Cassian knew this mystery could only be solved by the culprit behind it, and his brother had conveniently provided him with a name: Elain.

Immediately he set off to find the particular Archeron sister that had apparently caused his brother so much woe. Knowing Elain, she was in one of two places: the kitchens or the gardens. And the latter seemed to be her choice of the day as that is where he found her; pruning away at some roses, humming a tune, as if she hadn’t… done whatever it is that she had done, but Cassian knew it had to be horrible.

Azriel may be Spymaster, but centuries as General had taught him to read people in an instant, and Elain Archeron despite all her self perceived slyness and schemes, was an open book. He noticed how she stiffened as he approached, how her stabs at the soil got much swifter, he noticed the panic on her face that she tried but failed to school into nonchalance.

“Elain,” he greeted plainly, wanting her to slowly succumb to her panic before he asked her anything.

“Cassian, strange seeing you here. Nesta’s not here if that’s who you are looking for.”

“No, actually, I was looking for you. You haven’t happen to have seen Azriel today have you?” he inquired.

“Az? No…no I haven’t seen him for quite some time actually,” she answered but that one second look of panic, of fear, gave her away. It cemented her as the culprit behind whatever crime she had committed against his brother. Elain then proceeded to grab some flowers she had plucked, put them in a basket, and attempted to walk past him. But he blocked her path and glared right back at her,

“Elain, what the hell did you do?” he demanded, emphasizing every single word.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” again she tried to maneuver past him but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Elain,” he growled, “you’re going to tell me what you did. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”

And that was when she crumbled. She broke down- crocodile tears if you ask him- and recalled every single thing she had done: from eavesdropping his conversation with Nesta, to asking around about the girl Azriel was with by using her name, visiting her bookshop, then ambushing Azriel at the café. At the end of it, Cassian was speechless. He looked at the woman in front of him and saw a stranger. Elain, sweet Elain, always assumed by everyone to be innocent and kind. The crime she had committed twisted her features into something ugly and heinous- mirroring her vile heart.

“How could you?”

“Cauldron! Why doesn’t anyone understand me? I love him!! And he was messing around with that…that bitch. I deserve him, not her!” Elain screamed, a wildness overtaking her expression.

“You do not deserve anything, Elain. You can’t force someone to love you. And you don’t hurt the people you love. What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would break up Azriel’s relationship, his very happy relationship, and he would what? Run happily to you? Are you honestly that delusional?!” Cassian roared back.

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted him first. What right does she have to just waltz in and steal him from me?”

“She didn’t steal anyone, Elain. Azriel was never yours-”

“Well then at least he’s not hers anymore now either. If I can’t have him, no one can,” she said coolly as if she had told some joke. The calmness with which she said it took out all the fight from his body.

“You’re pathetic,” he whispered. And with that he made to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after him.

“To find my brother. Rhysand will deal with you.”

What Elain had done was unforgivable; intentionally breaking up his dear brother’s relationship like that, ambushing him with a kiss against his will…was no less than assault. And Cassian had a sinking feeling Rhysand would have a lot to say to the middle Archeron sister.

……………………………………………………………….....................

Flying to the River House, he barged in to find Rhysand. Azriel’s reaction to everything made it clear that the situation was more serious than he had anticipated. He also knew that he needed Rhysand to intervene and help come to solution since Azriel would not listen to a word Cassian said. What the hell. The cat was already out of the bag, he might as well tell Rhys too, just so he can help Cassian clean up this mess.

Thankfully, Feyre was not home. He really didn’t want to tell his High Lady about her own sister’s crimes- he would much rather leave that conversation to Rhys. Speaking of, he found the High Lord in his study going over reports. His brother gave a warm smile as he saw Cassian walk in but his face fell at his expression.

“What’s happened?”

Cassian sighed and recounted the whole debacle, starting from when he first saw Azriel and his girlfriend at the café to his recent conversation with Elain. To say his brother was seething by the end would be an understatement. One thing about Rhys was that he is insanely protective of his family and while Elain might be his sister in law, the three of them had been at each other’s side for five centuries- it was no mystery of who was given priority.

And what Elain had done… His brother never spoke of it but he knew Rhysand was still haunted by his time Under the Mountain, by Amarantha. Even more than before his brother had always been the one to enforce the importance of consent, in every aspect of life, not just intimacy. For Elain to so blatantly ignore his brother’s refusal must have struck a chord with Rhys. The High Lord was now pacing in his office, almost shaking with anger.

“Where is she now?” the High Lord demanded.

Knowing he must be talking about Elain, he answered, “She’s at the House of Wind.”

“Cauldron, I just want to… never mind we’ll deal with her later. Where’s Az?”

“I have no idea. He winnowed away from the training arena and I haven’t seen him since. He wasn’t in his room at the House of Wind, and he’s not here either,” Cassian explained.

“He must be at his own place then. Let’s go.”

“Me? Shouldn’t you go on your own? He seemed really pissed off, Rhysand. Maybe you should go on your own, I don’t want to make anything worse,” Cassian said hesitantly.

“Don’t be a fool, Cass. What’s happened has happened. We can’t change it. But we can make Azriel hear us out right now. Let’s go.”

With that the two brothers winnowed away in search of their third, terrified of what they might find.

……………………………………..................................................

Arriving at Azriel’s place they were met with darkness and a pungent stench of alcohol. Walking further into the house, they found Azriel passed out on his couch, the coffee table littered with empty bottles of vodka. Shit. Shit. Shit. Azriel had only confronted Cassian in the training arena this morning. Just how much had he drank since then in this short period of time. Turning to Rhysand, he saw similar horror in his eyes. Azriel never drank like this. It was usually Cassian who blacked out drunk on nights out, Azriel-ever the vigilant Spymaster- would always remain sober enough to keep track of his surroundings.

Rhysand walked over and gently shook Azriel awake, emitting several groans from the passed out male.

“Az, wake up brother,” Rhysand prodded him gently.

Azriel only let out another groan in response and covered his eyes with his arm, burrowing in further into the couch.

“C’mon none of that,” Rhysand said, pushing him again. Eventually, Rhysand managed to get Azriel up and sitting on the couch. The sway to his body and his unfocused eyes confirmed what they were already suspecting: Azriel was very, very drunk.

Out of nowhere, Azriel made to get up but his intoxication was clearly affecting his motor skills as he stumbled and would have face planted on the floor but luckily Rhysand caught him in his arms.

“Easy there brother…”

“I’m fine,” Azriel grumbled before pushing off of Rhys. His slurred words telling that he was very much not fine. Azriel then made to walk to the kitchen when his eyes landed on him. Cassian steeled himself, readying himself for another onslaught of Azriel’s accusations, knowing full well he deserved them. Honestly he would have preferred the yelling. Because Azriel said… nothing. The utter defeat in his brother’s eyes made Cassian want to die almost. Azriel only pushed past Cassian to the kitchen, not even sparing him another glance.

The two of them assumed perhaps Azriel was getting a glass of water but were immediately proven wrong when they saw him rummaging through cabinets and pulling out yet another bottle of vodka.

“Hey now, none of that. You’ve had enough Azriel,” Rhysand exclaimed, the authority in his voice urging Az to listen.

“Yeah, I’ve just about had enough with all this,” Azriel said with a wry laugh, still stumbling where he stood when he took another sip of the bottle. The bastard was going to give himself alcohol poisoning at this rate if he didn’t slow down. Not being able to watch any longer, Cassian rushed forward to grab the bottle from his brother’s hands only to be pushed right back,

“Don’t fucking touch me. This is… it’s all your fault,” Azriel barked.

“Okay so we’re talking now, good,” Rhysand said all of a sudden. Azriel laughed a dry laugh,

“I have nothing to say to anyone, get the hell out.”

“Az, we know you’re upset” Rhysand started but was interrupted by Azriel,

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now, Rhysand. So why don’t you take your fake sympathy and pity and shove it up your ass.”

With that Azriel pushed past the two of them and moved towards his room. Cassian followed, knowing he had to get through to Az right now if they wanted any chance to fix this mess.

“Azriel listen to me-” Cassian started, pushing past the door when Azriel tried to slam it in his face, “No you’re going to listen whether you like it or not. Yes, I knew about your girlfriend. I saw the two of you at the café by the Sidra because I’d been out to get some things for Nesta and the girls. Yes, I was upset and hurt that you didn’t tell me, especially after I found out that you had been courting her for two years. And yes I told Nesta, which I realize was a mistake as well. It was not my place to tell her. But I was only discussing it with my mate because I was upset about it. And she swore not to tell anyone either. I… I didn’t tell Elain. She was eavesdropping our conversation from our bedroom door and she asked around about you girlfriend through her name. I didn’t tell her Az, let alone send her there. I… I would never ruin your happiness like that, brother.”

Cassian was panting at the end of his rant, out of breath from all the emotions he had let out, but he knew he had to get through to Azriel right now. Or else this misunderstanding would only get worse. Rhysand now stood behind him, ready to jump in between his two brothers in case he needed to.

Azriel only stared back at him as a single tear made its way down his face,

“It doesn’t matter… none of it matters. My nightingale.. she’s gone. She left. She left me and I can’t… I can’t breathe… I can’t…”

Cassian saw the sudden shift in his brother; how Azriel’s panicked gaze flitted across the room quicker than his shadows, how he began to grab at his chest, his neck. Immediately Cassian moved to his brother,

“Hey, Az. Just breathe okay. You’re alright, “ Cassian tried comforting his brother, wanting to ground him before he spiraled into a full on panic attack. He put Azriel’s hand on his own chest, trying to get Az to match his breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe,” Cassian repeated the mantra he had uttered a thousand times to his brother. Despite his stoic attitude, out of all of them, Azriel had always been more prone to panic attacks, had been since childhood. Perhaps it was his silent, secretive nature, Azriel always kept his issues to himself, never voicing them to anyone or complaining. Maybe bottling up everything in such a way was what caused his brother to collapse from time to time. There’s only so much a person can take, even if they are as strong as his brother.

Eventually Azriel’s breaths calmed and he crumbled in Cassian’s arms. Slowly the two fell to the floor and Azriel… just cried. Cassian looked at Rhysand who had a similarly shocked expression. They had never, ever seen Azriel break down like this. Cassian was at a loss for words, and it must have seemed like it too, because Rhys walked over and kneeled by them too.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright, Az. I know all seems lost right now but we’ll fix this. I swear it,” Rhys comforted.

“You can’t… fix anything,” Azriel let out amidst his sobs, “she’s gone, she doesn’t even want to see me.”

As Azriel’s sobs got more violent, the two brothers became more and more concerned. None of their attempts to calm him down were working and at this rate they were worried he might as well spiral into another panic attack. .

“Why does this always happen to me? I do everything for everyone… I always give up everything. Why can’t I have this one thing? Why can’t anyone love me? Why does everyone always leave?” Azriel lamented, hiccupping because of the tears.

To say Cassian’s heart broke in that moment would be an understatement. It was then that he swore to the Mother that he would fix this for his brother, even if he had to give up everything he had for it.

…............................................................................................

Cassian had left Azriel with Rhysand after he had pried your name and whereabouts from Azriel. It had been difficult with Az not even wanting to mention your name but eventually he had succumbed to Cassian’s persistence. He was ashamed to admit that he had used his brother’s still drunken state to pry information out of him but whatever. It was for a good cause.

Now he was standing outside your door. He had first visited The Quill- a bookshop he now knew you owned, Nesta would be delighted- but unfortunately it was closed for the day. Knocking he waited for a response but got none. Not knowing what else to do, he knocked again. Azriel hadn’t mentioned another location, if you weren’t here Cassian didn’t know what he would do.

He was about to knock again when a muffled voice called out,

“I’m coming!”

So you were home. Great. As Cassian was preparing what to say the door opened and… shit. There you were, looking just as bad as Azriel; swollen eyes, puffy face, red nose. All indicators of a long crying session. Cassian wanted to kick himself: just how many people had he hurt with his hot headedness.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

It was at your question that Cassian realized that he had been gawking at you, which instantly snapped him out of his stupor.

“Yes, sorry about that. I was hoping we could talk for a moment. I’m Cassian, Azriel’s brother?”

He hoped that Az had at least mentioned him to you otherwise this was going to be a very difficult conversation. However, your face fell as he mentioned Azriel’s name-shit- and you began to close the door in his face as you said,

“I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye.”

And you had almost slammed the door in Cassian’s face but he wrenched his feet in between the door,

“Look I’m sorry. I know you’re angry and hurt and you have every right to be but please… please listen to me. I won’t take long, just a moment… Please.”

Internally Cassian begged every deity out there to bless you with some mercy, some understanding. And despite recent events proving otherwise, it seemed just this once fate was on his side as you opened the door to let him in and took him to your drawing room. Crossing your arms in front you, you stared back at him with a fiery gaze, daring him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. Feisty. He was beginning to see why his brother liked you.

“If Azriel has sent you here to offer some made up apologies, I would recommend you save your time and leave,” you said before Cassian could get anything out.

“No, not an apology, an explanation.”

You scoffed and started to move away but Cassian continued before you could leave,

“Look whatever happened that day in the café, it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. It was…mine.”

He could see how your ears piqued up at that as you turned to him with inquisitive eyes. He had your attention then… good. So Cassian began again and told his tale, explaining Elain overhearing his conversation with Nesta, her vile schemes and also her long held affections for his brother. But he made it a point to reiterate how his brother had never returned those affections and that it was only after Cassian found out about you that he understood why- because his heart already belonged to another, to you.

“So please, if you want to take out your anger on anyone, take it out on me, take it out on Elain, but please do not punish my brother. He has no fault in all of this, and he can’t live without you. I know that now.”

Cassian had left after that, knowing you needed some time to process everything. He only hoped that he had done enough for his brother, and that the two lovers could find their way back to each other again.

...........................................................................................

Having cleared the misunderstanding between the two lovers, Cassian and Rhysand’s attentions had turned to the culprit: Elain. Rhys’s fury had returned full force when he was face to face with her. As he had raged and yelled, at one point Cassian thought Rhysand might end up killing Elain altogether- Azriel’s breakdown only acting as fuel to the fire. Seeing Azriel cry as he did had sparked a violent need for revenge in the two brothers.

In the end, Elain had survived- Cassian suspected probably because of Feyre. But Rhysand would no longer tolerate her in Velaris, even for Feyre. As punishment, Rhysand had sent her to Wind Haven where she would stay for the foreseeable future. With no allowance form Rhys, she would have to earn her keep by working in the camp, as all the “commoners” did. Cassian had almost laughed when Rhysand had thrown Elain’s insult to you right back at her. With that out of the way, Cassian had turned to you and his brother.

As it turns out, his brother and his lover were equally stubborn. Despite the air being cleared between the two of you, both parties being absolved of guilt, neither of you was willing to take the first step. Azriel was still convinced that you wanted nothing to do with him, that you did not want to see him. And you… you had somehow managed to convince yourself that in the argument that had taken place between you and Azriel, you had hurt him to such a measure that you could not face him.

Ultimately, Cassian wanted to slam his head against a wall. Neither of you was willing to budge so he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. Therefore he had concocted a simple plan. He had convinced Azriel to take an evening stroll with him, claiming that his brother had spent too many days locked up in his house, drinking and brooding, that he needed some fresh air. In the end it had taken a direct order from Rhysand to get Azriel out of the house. Cassian knew his brother did not like to play rank with them but in this case it was necessary. If he was left to his own devices Azriel would most likely wither away in his home.

Well, they had gone flying and had even stopped at a restaurant where Cassian had forced his brother to eat- because Azriel did look like a walking corpse. It was when they were walking by the Sidra thkat the second component of his plan arrived- you.

The two lovers froze as they spotted each other. Now that the two were face to face, they had to talk.

“Oh, damn it. I was supposed to take Nesta flying. Well I better leave. Enjoy your walk Azriel.” With that Cassian took to the sky but not before he saw his brother’s accusatory glare. As he soared to the clouds, he sent a prayer to the Mother to soften both your hearts and allow the two of you to work out your differences- if only for the sake of your love.

..........................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The scene was rather poetic; two lovers mirroring each other’s pain. Your eyes looked hollow and sunken, as he was sure his did as well, indicative of long nights spent crying instead of sleeping.

He knew he couldn’t walk away, as much as his mind was begging him to. He wasn’t that cowardly. So he slowly approached you, allowing you the chance to walk away, but thankfully you moved to him as well.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice hoarse from days of not using it- he hadn’t really fell like talking to anyone. You nodded and the pair walked over to the bench that gave a brilliant view of the river in front of them, yet at the moment all seemed bland and gray.

“So…”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“Sorry? Nightingale, what are you sorry for? It was my fault… I…” Azriel didn’t know what his fault was but he knew his darling was not to be blamed.

“No, you have done nothing wrong. Your brother, Cassian, he explained everything, everything that the bitch did,” you spat out, “It is my fault Azriel. You… You did nothing at all. That bitch kissed you against your will and I blamed you for it. And I am so sorry for that, Azriel.”

Azriel was at a loss. He had walked into this conversation expecting to be confronted and now… he was confused.

“I should have listened to you, I should have stopped to think but I didn’t and I’m so sorry Azriel,” you cried, tears lining your eyes.

“Its okay, nightingale. It was the heat of the moment, you didn’t have to time to react to what you saw. I probably would have reacted the same.”

And it was true. With how possessive he was, Azriel knew seeing his nightingale with another man would not have ended well.

“But you came to me… You came to my house to explain yourself even when you had done nothing wrong… And I didn’t even listen, and I said such horrible things. I’m so so sorry Azriel,” you said amidst tears as your head fell into your hands.

Instantly, he took you into his arms. And just like that he felt whole again. You were where you belonged, and that’s all that matters. But you pulled away and took his hands in your own,

“I need you to know, Azriel. I did not mean anything I said, not a single thing. Everything I said about your hands and you… I meant none of it. I was just so angry and I used your insecurities against you and I am so so sorry for that. Please, I understand if you do not wish to be with me any longer, but please forgive me. I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for hurting you like that, I’m so so sorry Az.”

With that you broke down into tears and Azriel pulled you back into his arms, every part of his soul begging him to comfort you, to provide solace.

“Love, its okay, I forgive you. I know you did not mean it, because I know my nightingale holds no malice for anyone in her heart. Yes it did hurt in the moment but we were both not thinking straight in the moment.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me so easily,” you remarked as you wiped away some tears.

“I think that should be for me to decide, no?”

A strange silence fell between them, one that had had no place in their relationship before. It was the gnawing kind that slowly began to suffocate you. The two of you had resolved the misunderstanding but so much had been done, so much had been said, that they didn’t know how to move past it. So they sat quietly side by side, staring at the river before them, wondering to themselves if it could carry away their woe as well.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, there was one question that was gnawing at the back of his mind. Azriel knew if he wanted any hope for their relationship to survive, he had to ask it now. Otherwise they could try to move past this together and dance around it, ignoring it’s presence as it slowly suffocated Azriel to death.

“Why didn’t you come for me, when Cassian had told you the truth?”

You turned to glance at him, the pain shining through your eyes, then turned back to the River as you answered,

“I was afraid, afraid that you would turn me away. Already I had convinced myself that I did not deserve you… everything that happened only cemented the fact that I would only hurt you.”

That- was not what he was expecting. He had thought perhaps you had already given up on their relationship, maybe you didn’t think him worth the effort. To think that you thought yourself unworthy… it wasn’t like you. Some deep instinct of his told him there was more. He wasn’t the Spymaster for nothing.

“Where is this coming from, love?”

“I don’t know, Azriel. I’ve just been struggling so much these past few months. Freya, she made these new friends that we’ve been hanging out with. And she told them about us, our relationship, and the things they said have been getting to my head. They found it very hard to imagine that you would date someone like me. They always commented how you could always find someone richer or belonging to a more royal family. And one of them… one of them even said that because you go to all these different courts, you probably have loads of affairs. And you… You were gone for so long, and I know it was for work, I understand that completely, I knew that when we got together. But they wouldn’t stop saying it. So when Elain showed up to my shop… everything she said and then what I saw at the café, it was like vindication for my fears. Like you had proven them right. I got so caught up in their hate- that I lost track of us in between.”

You again started crying at the end of the rant, it providing a much needed catharsis. Azriel was…speechless. He knew first hand how painful such insecurities were and to imagine that yours had dug so deep that you doubted their relationship… That you doubted yourself, made him want to stab his own heart out. Taking you into his arms, he whispered,

“My love, your are not wrong for having fears or insecurities. Everyone has them. You should have told me about them. That was your one mistake, you should have let me help you.”

Turning to look at him, you gazed into his eyes as if searching them for some way out of this mess.

“How do we move past this, Azriel?” You asked sadly.

“Well, we start by forgiving each other. And by promising that we never let a third get in between us again; whether that’s Freya, Elain, my brothers, anyone. Never again, nightingale. Whatever issues we have, whatever fears, we solve them together. Can you promise that?”

“Yes, my love, I promise,” you answered with a smile.

“So we’re together again?” he asked with a smirk and you answered by throwing yourself into his arms. And as he held you in his arms, Azriel swore it was then that he took his first breath in weeks. He knew this was far from over. He knew it would take time to rebuild their relationship and their trust in each other to way it was, knew it would take time to fight away your insecurities along side his own. But in this moment, he only shuffled closer to you, inhaling your scent to give solace to his weary heart.

Pulling away, he wiped the tears from your face and asked with a smirk,

“Well, it is way past the date, but would you be interested in a belated, anniversary breakfast my lady?”

In answer you only let out a laugh of your own, the sound more melodious to Azriel than the sweetest opera, and you took his hand in your own as the two of you began to walk towards your favorite café, where all this heartbreak had started.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the same café, hearts beating as one, to a new start.

Taglist: @i-am-infinite, @going-through-shit @cleverzonkwombatsludge @minnieoo @rcarbo1 @tele86 @freyagallileaevans @paleidiot @mariahoedt @ratgirl2020 @starryhiraeth @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @topaz125 @theravenphoenix26 @circe143

#azriel #acotar headcanon #azriel headcanons #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #acotar fic #azriel x oc #acotar x reader #azriel×reader

405 notes · View notes

blkkizzat · 10 months ago

Text

JJK Men x Black!Reader Bonnet Headcanons - fluff, 18+ only

Nanami is thoughtful. He would make sure his sweet girl would never have to worry about protecting her hair.

Once you explain to him why you wear a bonnet to bed Nanami is the type to surprise you by sewing (of course Mr. Domestic can sew!) silk into the lining all your hats, caps and beanies. He makes sure the sheets and pillowcases are silk as well.

Nanami also starts lounging in silk PJs (that hang low on his hips showing off his deep cut v-line) because he also knows how much you like laying your head in his lap when the two of you relax in front of the TV just in case you don't actually feel like putting your bonnet on just yet.

Choso is an insomniac so when he can't sleep he watches over you.

Like a protector, if he notices you shifting and a braid, lock, coil or curl escapes your bonnet he will reach over to gently tuck it back in before giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead or nose. In fact, if he can manage without waking you up, Choso will even tighten or re-tie your bonnet as well.

And if your hair is straightened, on hot nights when you start to sweat he will turn on the fan, turning off oscillation in favor of directing it all to cool you instead. Choso knows you hate sweating out your new silk press.

You don’t know any of this though, you just know ever since you started sleeping over at Choso's you’ve never woken up with your bonnet off or your hair sweat-out.

Suguru is practical about it. He is the type that once you explain why you wear your bonnet and how it keeps your hair healthy and protected he starts wearing bonnets too so his long locks can stay smooth.

Not only does he wear bonnets with you he buys matching ones for you for the both of you to wear to bed. You never worry about forgetting your bonnet now when packing an overnight bag to stay at Suguru's because he always has dozens of them for you to chose from.

Suguru even has dedicated an entire drawer for you in his closet for all your collective bonnets. In fact, best to just leave yours at home because he will pout hella bad if y'all ain’t going to bed matching.

Toji is a bit of an asshole. If you’re mad and ignoring him he will definitely snatch your bonnet off when you brush past him just to get your attention. Toji would much rather have you cussing at him than the silent treatment.

You could try to take it back from him but n!gga is big as fuck and if he plays 'keep away' you know you ain’t getting that shit back until he's ready. You sigh relenting and stand on your tippy toes to give him a kiss, the silent treatment finally broken.

Satisfied, Toji immediately returns your bonnet. He places it back on your head and adjusts it to as it was before. He kisses you again and apologizes for upsetting his 'sexy mamas'.

You would have made him work for it a bit more before giving into him so easily, snatched bonnet or not but you don’t trust him alone with your bonnets. You once walked in the bedroom to find him jack!ng off into your favorite bonnet because 'all your panties were in the dryer'.

Gojo is over the top about it. He goes out of his way to order you designer bonnets. Fendi doesn't make actual bonnets? Well they do the fuck now.

Money is absolutely no object and only the best quality silk goes on his baby girl's head. Gojo once even flew you to Paris so Chanel could take your actual head measurements in their showroom (which he shutdown just for you ❤︎).

All of this is fine and all but you do still love your trusty $2 beauty supply store bonnets. Gojo know's this and tbh he loves them on you just as much too. You know he does because once in a while you will come back home and instead of his blindfold he will be wearing one of your beauty supply bonnets pulled down over his eyes.

Gojo whines that he missed you all day and this helped him feel closer to you.

Sukuna appears indifferent to your bonnet. In fact you might even be a bit self conscious at first that he doesn’t like when you wear one.

However, all those worries dissipate when you start to notice how attentive he is to the fact of making sure you actually do wear one. You binging your fav Netflix drama and decide to lay down on the sofa without putting on your bonnet first? Nah.

Your vision will be blocked when Sukuna drops a fresh bonnet on your face. A simple order to 'put it on brat' is given before he leaves the room. He does this often. If you question him why he does this? Sukuna will grumble and say he wont want you bitching or taking longer to get ready later because you forgot to wear your bonnet and now your hair is too messed up.

Although Sukuna truly couldn't give a fuck if you didn't do your hair and just wore your bonnet when you both do go out. You look fucking hot to him either way. One time Sukuna even laid a n!gga out flat on his back in the streets. Some random dude made a comment about you being 'ratchet' under his breath for wearing your bonnet outside the house and learned to mind their fucking business that day. Safe to say Sukuna is very much pro-bonnet.

a/n: I said I would write drabbles but these headcanons popped into my mind and I had to share. Hope y'all enjoyed!

*runs back to the fifty-leven fics i am currently procrastinating on*

Reblog (because tumblr isnt showing this for some reason 😭) and let me know which one was your fav but likes and comments are just as appreciated!

989 notes · View notes

jflemings · 6 months ago

Text

— loose lips sink ships

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.

warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)

a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.

one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.

the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.

jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.

now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.

“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”

you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”

the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”

“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”

“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”

“that makes one of us”

janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.

you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.

she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.

the sight of it makes you feel weird.

you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.

“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”

you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.

“most of college? what does that mean?”

“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”

“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff

realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”

“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”

the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.

“janine” you say sternly.

she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.

“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.

you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.

you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.

when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.

jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.

a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.

you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.

when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.

your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.

replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.

the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.

you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.

you just didn’t know.

voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.

jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.

“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”

your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.

you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”

the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.

your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”

“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.

jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says

“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”

she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.

janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.

you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.

she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.

she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”

“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”

jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”

you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”

“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”

“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”

she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”

the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.

it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.

your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.

she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.

jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”

“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.

jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”

“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”

she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.

you shake your head “i can come get you”

she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”

all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #woso #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #jflemings writes #jflemings woso

454 notes · View notes