#<- can't settle for only one pairing name so they get two (but i'll mostly go with sasakui for concision)

[maomango-doodle]

[sugurusfavemonkey]

CALL IT FATE - ONE: FINGERS DANCING WHEN THEY MEET

summary: your roommate left and the bills were staring to pill up when three knocks to your door bring you Ino Takuma: say hello to your new roommate. The easygoing boy quickly worms his way into your life and heart.

pairing: Ino Takuma x reader

word count: 2.5k

content: college AU, short series, afab!reader, fluff, some crack, cursing, miscommunication (you think Ino is gay), strangers to friends to lovers (and they were roommates!), smut to come in future chapters (MDNI)!

prologue || one || two || three

♪playlist♪

The talk with Ino Takuma went even better than expected: he was eager to share more of himself with you and easily acquiesced with your terms, sitting straight up and nodding dutifully with each ground rule you spewed out, his eyes never once straying from you. It was flustering to have his undivided attention like that and your cheeks felt warm throughout the entire affair.

Eventually, you settled on an agreement. Which you were more than happy with since beggars can't be choosers. You had just realized you were about to run out of options when he came knocking, so when Ino mentioned fate it had seemed very fitting to your current situation.

"So… when can I move in?" you wouldn't' be surprised if he was literally shaking in anticipation as he questioned you.

"Well, the room is already vacant, so…" you shrugged, motioning towards the room you had shown him not even fifteen minutes before.

"Great!" Ino scratched his chin in thought, mumbling about his schedule under his breath until he seemed to reach a conclusion, "we're already at the end of the month so I can break my lease with no issues… I guess this weekend could work."

"Alright. Give me your phone and I'll save my number in it." you extended your hand toward him in wait for the device, but he merely stared at you.

"You're… giving me your number?" Ino questioned in utter confusion. He seemed so dumbfounded you had to suppress a smile.

"Uhm, yes? We gotta communicate somehow, right?"

"Oh," snapping back to attention, he quickly pulled his cell out of his pocket and handed it to you after unblocking it, "Yeah! Right."

"I'll get off your case now," Ino said as he stood up. You followed suit under the guise of being polite. "See you Saturday?" there was this earnest hopefulness to the way he verbalized the question and your smile grew soft.

"Sure," you shrugged, eyes glancing elsewhere for a second but not long enough that you missed the way his eyes lit up at your assenting, "see you Saturday, Ino."

"You can call me Takuma, you know. We'll be living under the same roof, no need for all that mumbo jumbo." he mentioned casually as you guided him to the door.

"It's only fair you call me by my first name too, then."

His soft murmur of your name with something akin to devotion had you blushing furiously, a common occurrence around the skater boy it seemed.

"Bye, Takuma." You waved before closing the door as soon as he passed the threshold if only so you could breath properly again.

"You don't understand! It wasn't just fate. I think she's my soulmate!" Ino recounted animatedly and it was easy to see that, had his hands not been busy with three precariously stacked cardboxes, they would have been moving along with the words spoken.

"There's no such thing as soulmates, Takuma." His blond friend retorted patiently, his own arms pilled with boxes as they ascended the stairs to the third floor. "It was probably simply a strong attraction. It's all a chemical reaction."

Ino glanced from his peripheral to his friend. It was easy to forget how pragmatical Nanami tended to be, but he knew it was mostly a front behind which the blond student hid. "Way to kill the mood. Where is your whimsy, Nanami?"

"About a few thousand kilometers away in my hometown, where I left it along with my childhood."

"We'll see if you still think that when you fall in love," Ino huffed petulantly.

"You're not in love, Ino, "he sighed, "you barely know the girl."

"Okay. Maybe I'm not in love in love. But I could see it happening, man. I was so excited about finding the apartment but then she opened the door and... boom," he stopped on his track to convey the appropriate level of dramatics to his narration and then sighed dreamily. "it was like a scene straight from a movie!"

Meanwhile, Nanami kissed his teeth and shook his head, but the slight upturn to the left corner of his lips let Ino know he found the whole thing amusing.

"Ino! Hey! I was wondering when you were coming in. Need help with those boxes?" Your voice made both men look up as soon as they reached the floor. It seemed they caught you just as you were about to leave, but you only opened the door wider for them.

You reached up to pick the box at the top of the pile from Ino, but he maneuvered them to the side so you couldn't. He tsked playfully and kept on walking right by you, his blond friend following close behind.

"Nah-ah-ah. Leave the heavy lifting to the strong men! And it's Takuma for you."

"Alright. Takuma." Your eyes then moved to the second man, head pending slightly to the side, "and you must be Nanami?" you wondered as you tailgated them, hands clasped behind your back.

Ino practically threw the boxes down once he reached what would be his new room and watched with his hands on his waist as Nanami carefully set his set of boxes down right beside the others before turning to regard you with a polite smile.

"Kento is fine. It's very nice to meet you. I believe we share a class. Thursday morning?"

"That's right. It's impressive that you've noticed. I usually keep to myself."

"As opposed to me?"

"Yes? You sit right in front and you answer most questions from the professor before anyone else even has the time to assemble a response."

"I'm right here." Ino suddenly cut you both off and you nearly jumped in surprise. You raised your eyes to his face only to find his expression one of discontentment, brows furrowed and lips pursued.

Nanami chuckled, immediately clocking onto his friend's motive. "Sorry. Could I have a glass of water?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be right back!" You promptly moved to gather him a glass of water.

Ino watched and waited until he was sure you were out of ear shot before whisper-shouting:

"No dice. I saw her first."

"I'm not gonna attempt anything, Ino," Nanami kept his tone even and volume regular in contrast. "You know me better than that."

"I know, but-"

You strolled into the room without much thought, catching the ending of their conversation, "…you're always so charming and polite."

You cleared your throat afraid you had just interrupted a moment and nearly threw the glass in Nanami's willing hands, "here you go."

"Thank you."

You nodded, swaying back and forth in an attempt of grounding yourself because the awkward silence was making you nervous. Thankfully, Ino decided to break it.

"We still have a few boxes left," he motioned to the door with his thumb.

"You sure you don't need my help?"

"Nope. We can handle it. I think one more trip and we're done actually. Right, Nanami?"

"Three at minimum I'd say."

Takuma tried to elbow his side but he simply sidestepped the hit as he moved to the exit without further ado leaving the both of you behind.

"You're gonna stay at home tonight?"

"Yeah, this moving thing really tires me out."

You hummed thoughtfully, "I was thinking of ordering pizza for dinner tonight, would you like to share?"

"I'd love that!"

"Any specific toppings?"

"I'm fine with whatever as long as there are no olives."

"Got it. What about Kento. He staying?"

"No!" Takuma cried out and then winced, trying to measure out his tone for the next words, "no. I'm pretty sure Kento mentioned he needs to study today."

"On a Saturday night?" You lifted one brow in question.

"That's Nanami for you. Very… committed."

You frowned. That sounded a bit of an overkill if you were being honest, but who were you to judge.

"I'll, uhm, I'll go pick up the rest of the stuff."

You decided to ignore his strange behavior and opted to let him know you'd leave the door open instead. Takuma nodded silently in response.

...

"Stop being a weirdo!" Ino murmured to himself as he darted down the stairs.

Ino wasn't a loud or rowdy roommate and kept his mess within the confines of his own room. He made an effort to spend some time around you whenever you were hanging out in the living room or kitchen, watching your favorite shows or even helping you bake some recipe you found on your phone. Minus the very few occasional pieces of clothing you've found strewn about (which Ino always picked up as soon as you pointed out) and dirty dishes left on the sink (it could have been worse - he could've been just letting them wherever), things were smooth sailing all throughout your first month of living together. You really couldn't complain.

It had been over a month since he moved in. The day had been going perfectly: no strewn clothing, no dirty dishes, just immaculate and profound peace. That is, until Ino decided to trot around the apartment with that stupid black beanie of his crooked at an angle over his brow. The beanie was a staple in his wardrobe, usually paired up with a black sweatpants, black sweatshirt duo. You tried to ignore it and keep on reading the material assigned by your professor last week, but the nagging thought seemed to be stuck to the front of your mind until you couldn't help but blurting out:

"Your beanie is crooked."

"What?" Ino paused on his way back to his room, a mug in one hand, a banana on the other and an adorably confused expression on his face.

"Your- nevermind." You dropped your textbook aside, stood up and walked right up to him, "just let me…" you turned his shoulders so he was standing straight in front you before pulling the edge of his beanie this way and that until it seemed to be sitting straight across his brow. "There!"

There was a pregnant pause in which it downed on you what you had done. You stepped back with a gasp, hands flying to your mouth, meanwhile Takuma simply gawked at you.

"Oh my god, I'm so so sorry. I shouldn't have just manhandled you like that!"

Slowly, a bright beam formed on Takuma's face and he dismissed your worry with a casual wave of his arm, coffee sludging dangerously close to spilling against the edge of the mug.

"No, no! It's fine. It's completely fine. You can touch me anytime!"

Another pause.

"Wait. Fuck! That came out wrong," Ino hissed. He appraised you with an apologetic glance, "I meant it's totally okay that you 'womanhandled' me."

"Dumbass." you murmured fondly when he wiggled his brows at the invented word before you parted ways.

You were arriving back at the apartment, one arm straining to carry the groceries and your phone between your shoulder and ear as you unlocked the door.

"You gotta come! You're my best friend and she's been my girlfriend for two years yet you've barely spoken to each other! I want the two of you to get along!"

"Hime, baby, we do get along. I think Shoko is pretty cool. If we haven't mingled much it's because of our conflicting schedules. You know that."

Ino instantly stood up and rushed to aid when he saw you struggle with the key stuck on the lock and nearly dropping the bags.

"See? Another reason for you to come. Both of your schedules align!"

Takuma took the bags from you and kicked the door closed. You mouthed a small thank you before driving your focus back onto your conversation over the phone.

"Nope. I'm pretty sure my schedule says shower and laying on my couch."

"I'm not gonna let you rot on your couch on a Friday night!"

"But I wanted to finish watching that one show and-" you tried to plead your case, but...

"Pretty please?" her little whine was all it took for your resolve to crumble.

"Ugh. Fine!"

"Yes! Be there at 8!"

"Hime-" there was a click and the line went dead. "Did this bitch just hung up on me?" You looked to your phone in anger as if it would convey the feeling to the other side of the line.

"So… You got plans?"

You glanced up at Ino's inquiry taking notice of the way he was sprawled on the couch after dropping off your shopping bags in the kitchen. "Feet. Off the couch."

He promptly sat up, dropping his legs to the ground, an embarrassed smile aimed at you.

"Yes, actually. I was forced into an outing to celebrate Iori and Shoko moving together. Which is funny because it's been like two months." You spoke while walking to the kitchen. Soon Ino joined you in putting the groceries away.

"They were probably just waiting for things to slow down."

"I know, but still… feels kinda meaningless."

Ino hummed in agreement as you handed him the things that went in the upper cabinets and he stashed them away.

"We never celebrated our own moving in together." He mused without interrupting the mechanical task.

You waited until he closed the cabinet and turned back to you. He rested his back and hands against the counter regarding you lazily.

"We could." you threw out casually.

"Could what?" his eyes followed as you crowded in on him, spreading his legs so you could fit in between them as you adjusted his beanie with a gesture so familiar it came nearly unconsciously to you.

"Celebrate it, "you went to step away, but Ino took a hold of your waist, keeping you right where you were. "You could come with me and then it would be a double celebration." You nearly swooned at the way Ino looked into your eyes, as if searching for something. "Nanami will probably be there," you babbled nervously.

"Really?"

You visibly deflated at the hopeful tone of his voice. Silly you, catching feelings for a guy who clearly has a crush on someone else.

"He's good friends with Shoko, isn't he?" you shrugged

"I meant, you think me moving here is worth of a celebration?" Ino caught both of your hands in his and gave you one of his puppy dog-eyed looks, which instantly melted any hesitation you might have been feeling.

"Of course I do! I couldn't have wished for a better roommate, Takuma." You admitted quietly.

Takuma laughed freely before dropping your hands and abruptly gathering you into a tight embrace going as far as pulling you off the ground. You laughed along with him as he twirled you around.

Ino put you back on your feet cautiously, like he would handling something precious, never letting go of your waist.

"I'm pretty sure it was fate or something like that that brought us together because you are the best roommate ever and I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have you," you felt your heart pounding in your chest, "as my roommate."

You swallowed hard, briefly patting his chest and weakly pushing him away. "Alright. Go back to... whatever it is you were doing. Hime told me to be there at 8."

It would do you no good to develop a crush on your roommate... you had to get yourself together.

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taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @ilovemyhusbandnanami @iluvmusicxoxo @tunnelvisionlove @sweetwonieee @takuma-talkz @indiewritesxoxo

©sugurusfavemonkey 2025┃all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate or otherwise modify this work

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part fourteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: finally reunited ahh!! (also a note from me while i'm trying to find pics for the header: damn this dude does not look happy very often huh) (okay so update we're settling for a flashback photo bc coryo in his curls era does not SMILE bruh)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Just right here." Lucy Gray stops on the gravel road, nodding up to the house in front of them.

"Okay, sweet." Sejanus smiles, already heading for the front porch but she grabs his arm, stopping him as Coryo just stares at the house, going slightly pale.

"Sejanus, how about you and I go figure out where you guys will stay, and come back for Coriolanus in a bit?" She offers, nodding toward him.

"Oh- uh, yes. Yeah. Good idea." He agrees, picking up quickly on what she meant. Coryo still hasn't said a word, just staring at the run-down shack that apparently was your home. It was clear that efforts were made to maintain the home, the fence had been patched in several places and there were flower beds outside. From what he knew about your family, that would make sense.

"Coriolanus?" Lucy Gray draws his attention again. "We're going to go find you a place to stay, and we'll come back for you in a bit. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah that's... that's perfect. Thank you." He nods, in a trance-like state as he makes his way up to the door through some only slightly overgrown grass, before he has the chance to second-guess himself.

"He didn't even listen, did he?" Lucy Gray says, both of them watching him from the street.

"Not at all, no."

He can hear the two of them chatting as they disappear back down the road, and he looks for a doorbell that doesn't seem to be there, just settling for a knock instead. He waits a few moments after knocking on the wood, about to do it again when he hears a woman's voice come from inside. "One moment, I'll be right there!"

"I got it, Ma!" Comes from right behind the door as footsteps approach and it's swung open, a young boy standing there. "Hi." He says, eyeing Coryo up and down. It must be your brother.

"Uh, hi." He clears his throat. "Is Y/N here?"

"No, not right now." The boy answers. "Can I take a message for her?"

"Oh, well, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and-"

"Hold on! I'm coming!" The woman's voice comes again, much more excited as she rounds the corner from the hall, brushing her hands off on her apron. "You're Coriolanus?" She asks, a polite but delighted grin on her face as she gets closer.

"Yes, Ma'am." He nods in confirmation, a smile growing on his face. You look so much like your mother.

"Oh my goodness, come in, please! I didn't recognize you!" She gently moves her son out of the way, who is still staring at him with something unwelcoming behind his eyes. As soon as Coryo steps into the home, she's wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Wow, it is so lovely to meet you! You came a very long way!"

"I did." He chuckles, hugging her back with as much politeness as he can muster behind shaking hands and a pale face.

"Come sit, Y/N will be home within the hour. She'll be just thrilled to see you." She pulls away, gesturing for him to follow her into the living area. "Are you hungry? You must be starving. Let me grab you something."  Your mother says, mostly to herself as he sits down on the couch.

"That would be great, thank you." He smiles, still nervous as he tries to adjust his posture on the slightly uncomfortable sofa, looking around. In reality, he hadn't been "starving" for some time now. It felt good to have a consistently filled fridge all the time, but he has hardly eaten since they left the Capitol. He was too nervous to even think about it.

"Why did you come here?" Your brother asks, making Coryo look away from the family photos that adorned the walls. Most of the frames were broken, photos blurry, but he could tell that to your family that didn't matter.

"I hadn't heard from her. I wanted to make sure she was doing okay." Coryo answers, stiffened by your brother's somewhat hostile energy and the thought of getting to see you so soon. Had you told him something you didn't tell your mother? Probably that he killed that boy, but it seemed unlike you to leave out the part where he had no choice. Unless Tigris was wrong.

Unless you still didn't see it that way.

Your brother hums, sitting in the chair across from the couch and leaning his elbows on his knees. To Coryo, this felt like an interrogation. Coming from a teenager, it was almost cute.

"Lennox, Honey, can you come help me for just a moment?" His mother calls him from the kitchen and he's shooting up again, glaring at Coryo as he walks away. He was confused, today alone he's gotten so many mixed signals on your feelings.

You stuck out the day at work, even though while you were reshelving returns you had to rush to the bathroom in the back to vomit after reading the back cover of an old book about a man who hunted humans. You were hoping by now this would happen less and less, but leaving the house had only made it worse. Getting a job was a mistake and you knew that, but your family was hardly scraping by before you were torn from your life- but neither of your parents could work the whole time you were gone. They were sick about it. Your mom still couldn't work, and you knew your father rarely ever slept these days.

You tried to hand over the winnings Coryo's Dean had given you as soon as you got home, holding it out to your parents with trembling hands as they opened the locked door for you. They wanted none of it. Not a dollar from your three thousand, which you had spent time counting and recounting on the train. They only wanted you home. You had hoped it would give you something else to talk about- that you could smile and be proud that you won and that now your family could live comfortably, at least for a little while. The idea almost made it worth it. As you counted your prize under the dim lighting in the train car, you had wondered if you would do it again for them. The money didn't make saying hello again any easier, though, and you cried for what must have been hours on the porch of your family home, the four of you tangled together in a hug bound together by tears.

It was hard to let go, but when they had, finally, your mother shoved the money back into your pocket and told you to save it. One day, you could buy your own home with it, and that wasn't a bad idea.

All you could do for them now that your money sat in a jar in your closet, the best you could do, was convince them you were fine enough for you all to move on and forget about it. The additional income of getting your own job helped, too. So, when your boss tried to send you home, you declined, and five o'clock couldn't have come fast enough.

You drink water out of an old jam jar on the way home, washing the taste of bile out of the back of your mouth. The fresh air made a world of difference. As much as you adored the smell of books, it got stuffy in there, especially in the summers. Even with the sun beating down on your shoulders over your button-up shirt, you felt better just making the walk home every day. The breeze blowing through the trees, the familiar paths beneath your feet, it was one of the very few things that could ground you in the reality that now, you were safe. That, and the meadow behind your house at night time. Reading under lantern light with the stars overhead and your family at your side, you never felt more real. It was truly over.

That's what you would do tonight, you decided, after a long nap following an unfortunate day. At the end of every unfortunate day, you still had that, and that meant the world to you.

"Oh! Here's Tybalt." Your mom smiles, now comfortable on the couch next to Coriolanus as the cat saunters into the living room, jumping up into the space between them. "This is Y/N's cat, she calls him Tybs." She explains, tears forming in her eyes as the cat crawls onto her lap and she quickly blinks them away, but he had already noticed by then.

"She told me about him." Coryo says, placing his now empty tea cup on the coffee table in front of them.

"Of course..." She chuckles sadly. "He took real good care of us while she was away. On particularly... hard nights," She clears her throat. "He would come out into the living room with her father and I and sit with us, he can purr like no ones business, you know, and then after a while, he would run over to our room there and meow at us. Made sure we got to bed. Then curl up with us and just made sure we knew that.... she was still with us."

A tear falls as she speaks and she laughs nervously, quickly brushing it away. "Gosh, I am so sorry..." She quickly dismisses it. "We have company and I'm crying like a little girl. Forgive me..."

"No, it's quite alright." Coryo insists, shaking his head. Of course, he was worried about you in the arena and every night up until then, but he never entertained the idea of what it was like for your family even though he knew about them. That under the same sky, they were sitting here in this very home praying that you might return. Now, he could see it, and you were the lucky one who made it home. He hoped he wouldn't have to see Jessup's family while he was here. "It must have been awful for you."

"Indeed." She nods, wiping her cheek again. "But, you know, it means so much to us that she had someone there to look after her." She smiles at him. It's genuine. Sad, but full of gratitude. He would no longer wonder where you got that habit from. "I decided I wouldn't be watching anything, but her father insisted. He was out at a bar in town, the only one with televisions, then came rushing back in the door twenty minutes later and dragged us back there with him to watch. I didn't want to go but he said 'No, you need to see this. She's not alone. She has a friend.' So down we went, and they were playing reruns of the two of you being dropped into that cage. I just... She looked so comfortable with you. The way you looked at her we could see you cared, that she was human to you, and that you were there to help. I remember thinking for the first time that maybe she had a chance." She's accepted her tears now, reaching over from petting Tybalt to grasp the young man's hands in her own as she spoke.

Your brother scoffs as Coryo lets her hold onto his hands, a small smile forming on his face that's quickly torn away by Lennox's reaction. "Yeah, and then that other boy had to be the one to bring her something to eat after days."

"Hey!" Your mother gasps. "Lennox, get-" She prompts him to leave if he isn't going to be nice.

He rolls his eyes, getting up to leave.

"I didn't have anything to bring her besides a flower." Coryo finds himself stating, shocking even himself at the confession which halts your brother in his steps. He had never told anyone about the poverty he faced at home, but with them, he felt safe to. Something about knowing you assured him that they were not judgemental people. He clears his throat before explaining. "My family lost everything after the war. When I first met her, I also hadn't eaten in days. I gave her everything I could."

Lennox hums before leaving, either not convinced or embarrassed that he'd even made such a comment. Coryo couldn't tell.

"Coriolanus... I am so sorry." Your mother is quick to apologize, and he's embarrassed by the look of pity in her eyes. Pity from a woman who had, for almost a month, believed she had lost her child, and was still struggling with it today. He felt nothing but guilt.

"Well, I must tell you, your daughter saved us from that." He tries to lift her spirits as a confused expression paints itself into her features, but he doesn't get the chance to elaborate as they both turn at the sound of the front door opening.

"Ma!" You call out, closing the door behind you and kicking off your shoes, preparing your smile to tell her about the absolutely great day you just had.

Your mother stands quickly, patting the boys thigh gently and wipes her eyes. "Hi, Honey, how was your day?" She asks, smiling at him through red eyes.

"Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day." Your groaned response comes slightly muffled from the other room, and Coryo can hear you shuffling about.

"Oh, no. What happened?" Immediately your mother's tone shifts to worry, and Coryo wonders how it took her less than a second to understand.

"Nothing, Ma. All is fine." You call back, putting your bag down in the kitchen, and heading for the living room, gluing a smile back on. "Guess what I saw on the walk home! A ladybug, it landed right on my-" You freeze as you walk into the entryway, seeing your mother and your previous mentor just standing up next to her.

"Oh, I should have mentioned, we have company." Your mother smiles, already gathering the used dishes from the coffee table, and brushing past you to bring them into the kitchen. Likely, to give you two a chance to talk.

When Coryo lays his eyes on you for the first time again, he can swear his heart stops. Yours definitely does as nausea comes over you in a wave again, and your calculated smile drops.

You don't say anything, just staring with an expression unreadable to him. "Y/N, hi." He breathes, smiling at you. You look beautiful but tired, still. Still, that girl he watched in the arena, it was hard to believe that every part of you made it out. You weren't the same girl he saw for the first time in the reaping- you were more. More of you, and more of something else; hurt, if he had to guess.

"It's good to see you." He continues, his voice a gentle whisper that cuts through the awkward tension in the room. Your heart races, emotions swirling like a tempest within you. Coriolanus Snow, your mentor and friend who had guided you through your time in that Capitol and the games, is standing in your living room, looking both apologetic and hopeful.

"Coryo," You manage to say, voice barely above a whisper as you swallow the sickness rising in your throat. The memories flood back- everything awful you had gone through. Meeting him for the first time as he handed you a flower, sitting on opposite sides of the bars of your cage and talking long into the nights. Everything you had done, everything he had given you, the people you both hurt in the process. He takes a step closer, cautiously navigating the fragile space between you.

"I... What are you doing here?" You ask quietly, your eyes unable to meet his gaze. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in on you quickly.

He clears his throat, a nervous habit you remember well. "I wanted to see you," he says, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't know what you were up to and how you were adjusting and... I was worried about you."

The weight of unspoken words lingers between you, and for a moment, neither of you knows how to bridge the gap that only a month of time has built. You had been away from him longer than you had known him, and facing him again, you were embarrassed. Scared. Coryo takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to express the weight of what he's carried in his mind for too long.

"I never stopped thinking about you," He confesses, sincerity etched across his face. "I tried sending letters but I didn't get any response."

The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors your own, and the air crackles with a shared sense of everything you want to say but just can't find the words. You can't help it as you feel over and over again the countless hours spent together in the lead-up to the worst days of your life.

Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, a silent plea for connection. As your fingers take his, warmth floods through you, dissolving the distance. "I missed you," he admits, his voice barely audible.

A rush of conflicting emotions surges within you- that same embarrassment, anger, hurt, but also a flicker of the fondness that never truly faded. "I missed you too," You admit, your voice breaking through the emotional dam, built up from fear and trauma and the stacks of books in your bedroom that held it back all this time.

With those words, the barriers crumble, and the room is filled with a pitiful silence. The weight of what you had both done begins to lift, replaced with the realization that he did honestly care for you, the way you did for him. As you look into each other's eyes, the connection is undeniable, evidence of a bond that time could never change. You would always be connected to him.

"Do you remember when I brought you that blanket?" He asks and you take in a sharp breath. The few pleasant memories you had of your time together were so often overthrown by the awful ones, these days. His eyes flicker quickly across your face. He looks as scared as you feel. "And I said I wish I could get to know you as you are, not as a tribute, and you said you would show me the stars."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you nod, the nausea you felt steadily subsiding. "So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing. I am yours for the walk and especially when I walk away."

Coryo tilts his head at you, and smiles. That must have been a yes. "Please, don't walk away again." He whispers, and in that moment, he feels the tightness in his chest that carried him through the last month finally release.

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[izzieislandheart]

All right, drag up a seat young 'uns. There was no way I was NOT going to deep-dive this one, and with all of the articles being out of copyright (this story was retold verbatim for YEARS in newspapers across the country), I'm just going to go ahead and type out the whole-ass load of WTF for everyone to enjoy again. This is too long for one post, so I'll post it over a couple reblogs, with some notes from me at the end. ^^;

Transcribing from The Decatur County News, 24 Dec 1896, Page 2 (Mostly because it's the most legible copy): A TEAM OF ALLIGATORS. Sensation Created in a Texas Town by a Hunter. Every old settler in eastern Texas knows old Buck Stobbins. Stobbins came to the lone star wilderness when the republic was in its infancy. He settled in the Big Thicket, not far from Houston, and, during his long careers, he has hunted bear, only varying the monotony of the sport by occasionally getting drunk and spending a few days in getting sober and resting the dogs. The old man is an ironside, hard-shell Baptist, and a liar--not a mere novice in feeble and unpolished mendacity, but a wholesale, artistic, rough and tumble liar of gigantic proportions. His word is pretty good on all ordinary subjects, but when it comes to bear the aged veteran varies, twists, distorts and piles bears and hounds and gunshots and butcher knives together, and makes a story worth listening to. Every hunter goes to see him, and all leave his cabin pleased with his extraordinary hospitality, and feeling that if there were a few more Buck Stobbinses in the world the human race would laugh more and life would be worth living after all. He has been making war on the black bear of Texas for more than half a century, and killed every year, according to his own candid statement, bear enough to feed an army, and yet he can put you on a stand where you can get a shot at a big, rollicking bruin any fine morning. Very recently he has figured as the most conspicuous character in an adventure that is without parallel in the history of the world. The old fire eater had one son, and when this heir apparent to the Stobbins claim and cabin in the wilderness was about ten years old he captured a pair of young alligators two or three feet in length. Now, young Stobbins did not have any calves to fool with, and so he chained the young alligators together and hitched them to a small slide. He put bull rings in the nose of each 'gator, and then, by the dexterous use of a pitchfork, managed to extract a good deal of deviltry and fun out of his wonderful team. The boy was fast growing to manhood, and the alligators -- well, they were fast growing to 'gatorhood. They were at least ten feet long when the promising youth took the swamp fever and died. Old Stobbins was devotedly attached to his son. He expected to make a famous bear hunter out of the boy. His grief was not of the common kind. He tried to burn it out of his "in'ards" with moonshine whisky, and possibly would have succeeded, but the capacity of the stillhouse was a grade less than the old warrior's endurance and metal. When the still went dry he tried coal oil, and he soon drank the country into darkness. The neighbors had to hide their oil cans or transact all their business between the rising and the setting sun. One day he concluded to sober up and raise a crop, but upon discussing the subject with Miss Nancy--a pet name for his wife--he learned that during his long period of mourning he had exchanged Buck and Ball, his oxen, for mountain dew. His first impulse was to go over and shoot the stillhouse man who had taken advantage of his weakness and round up his oxen and hitch them to the plow, but while he was loading his gun the 'gators crawled out of the tank in the lot and began to snort and bellow like bulls. "An idea!" exclaimed the thoughtful Mr. Stobbins. "Get the pitchfork, Miss Nancy," he shouted, "and let us see if we can't make them air varmints useful." (Continued below...)

The Times, Philadelphia, September 27, 1898

[familyvideostevie]

WAIT that little writing abt the pottery girl was so cute pls continue

a continuation of the blurb i did off of sunlitide's lovely idea! steve and his pottery girl< 3 | 1.6k, fem!reader, fluff, steve is a little shy for a change, i know nothing about pottery, i hope you like it let me know please!!!! : ) part 2

"Hey, pottery girl," Steve says as soon as you walk through the doors of Family Video, his watch in your hand.

"Um. Hi?" you reply, voice lifting at the end. You thought you'd have to explain why you knew it was his watch and why you knew where he worked. But he doesn't look shocked to see you at all. So, you introduce yourself properly and try not to think about how you regret coming here.

"Oh, I know your name." Steve smirks, but it's soft, nothing like what you remember him doing in the halls of Hawkins High. "You wear a name tag at the studio."

"DID I HEAR YOU SAY POTTERY GIRL?" A girl your age skids out of the back room, her green vest half on and hair a mess like she'd woken up from a nap. "You're real?" she cries, settling next to Steve behind the counter. His smirk falls and he groans, putting his head in his hands. You give her a little wave that she returns.

"Smooth, Robin," he mumbles. You aren't totally sure what you've walked in to, and you only kind of know the two teens in front of you. You know who Steve is, of course, and you'd been to the mall a few times last year to know Robin's face. Mostly you're surprised that anyone knows about Steve's evening trips to the studio. It felt like something he'd maybe keep a secret, but your chest warms at the thought that maybe he has friends he can trust with himself.

"I think I'm real," you say, feeling a little bold at the evidence that he's maybe been talking about you. "Anyway, I just wanted to return your watch," you continue, stepping forward to hold it out across the counter. "You left it at your wheel last night."

Steve emerges from his hands, eyes wide in genuine surprise.

"Woah!" he cries. "I was tearing apart my car for that today. Thank you so much." He reaches out to grab it from you and your hands brush. You pull yours back quickly and stand there a little awkwardly as he straps it on. Robin is leaning on the counter, her eyes going between the pair of you like she's watching a tennis match.

"So, I'll see you tonight?" you ask, rocking back and forth on your heels. Truth is, you want to know Steve. This guy with a reputation he seems to have shed with a life you know nothing about. And yet he's the only thing you pay attention to when you're in the room together.

"For sure."

"Are you actually going to talk to me now?" you blurt out. He casts his gaze up at the ceiling and sighs, his cheeks flushing a little as Robin laughs. "He never says anything and it's been weeks!" you loud-whisper at her. She laughs harder.

"You're always busy!" Steve groans.

"Yeah, busy with the like, two moms who come in every four days and all the sponges in the sink that need rinsing. So busy." You don't know why you're ribbing him like this, but it feels good. Feels like you have friends.

"Okay, fine!" He throws his hands up in the air, but his tone is playful. "Christ, I'll talk to you tonight."

You give him a salute and head out the door. Robin's voice follows you out.

"Wow, Steve, I like her! I'm so glad she's real."

__

That night you try not to listen for the bell of the studio door but fail miserably. Almost no one comes in and you wonder if maybe the whole thing was a joke and you scared Steve off when, around 8, you hear it when you're washing sponges in the back.

"Hi," the familiar voices calls. "It's, uh, it's Steve." You wipe your hands with a towel and wander out to see him getting set up at his usual station.

"Thought you weren't coming." It feels big, letting him know you were waiting for him, but what do you have to lose?

"Had to play driver to the shithead kids I can't get rid of." He smiles a bit as he says it, and you want to know everything about him, who those kids are, how he came to care about them as he so clearly does. "Only gonna have time for one thing, probably."

"Can I sit with you as you throw?" you ask. "Not a lot of work to do." You gesture at the empty studio.

"Oh god," he says, his back to you as he puts on an apron and cuts off a slab of clay, shaping it into a ball. "You've been watching how bad I am at this for weeks, and now you want to watch?"

"Let me tell you a secret," you say, sitting on a stool next to his station. "I can't make pottery for shit." Steve laughs and the sound makes you grin. You want to hear it again.

"How'd you end up here, then?" he asks, bringing his clay to the wheel and sitting before smacking it on. You try not to stare at his hands as he begins to mold it. Everyone looks hot spinning a pottery wheel, but Steve is something else.

"Believe it or not, there aren't that many jobs in Hawkins for high school graduates," you grumble. He scoffs.

"You're telling me," he says, finally looking up at you for a second. His eyes really are so brown. "You've seen where I work. How'd you know I worked there, by the way?" You just point at the Family Video vest he hung up on his way in.

"Right." He focuses back on his clay, hands a bit clumsy, and you wonder if it's because you're watching. He hums a little as he works, getting into a kind of focus mode, but you can't keep quiet for long.

"Why are you here so often, Steve?" you ask, softly, so he knows you're not teasing him. He looks like someone who could put walls up very easily, and you don't want to be on the wrong side of them. He sighs, eyes darting to you again, before back to his hands and whatever he's making.

"I have a lot of nervous energy, if you can believe it," he chuckles, but it's nothing like the genuine laugh you got out of him minutes ago. "Seen some shit, need a way to deal with it. One of the kids I uh, hang around, Erica, she told me to go something useful with it. So I thought I'd try this."

"What're you making?" you ask. Thank you for telling me, you think. What have you seen? you think. I hope you come to trust me, you think.

"Vase. Or something." He's finished it without you even noticing. It's a little crooked, but he doesn't look bothered. "I've made like, six of these. I'm gonna keep putting the finished ones in my house till my mom notices." He looks at you again as he grabs the wire to scrape his piece off of the wheel. He's smiling but it's brittle. You can't stand it.

"How do you do that?" you ask him.

"Do what?" His eyes don't leave the wheel, his hands finally steady as he brings the wire underneath.

"Look so good doing everything." You cringe immediately. "Sorry, that was so lame." Steve, however, keeps his composure but just barely, the flush traveling up his neck and up to his cheeks. He's got a few flecks on clay on his jawline and you want more than anything to wash them off with your thumb. At least he doesn't look haunted anymore.

"Careful," he grinds out, fighting a smile. "Gonna give me a big head. Even with bad flirting."

"Pretty big already, Steve. Always was in high school."

"Well, some things change, some don't," he huffs.

"I can see that."

"You're not how I thought you'd be," he says, standing to bring his pot to the drying rack.

"And how's that?" The idea that he's thought about you at all makes your stomach go funny.

"Shy, for starters," he grumbles. You laugh.

"I think you're the shy one, Steve. You wouldn't even talk to me!"

"Yeah, so you've reminded me." He wanders over to wash his hands in the sink and you get up to finish your closing duties. Are you really flirting with Steve Harrington? One conversation with him and you want to get to know every piece of him. The thing is, you think he wants to get to know you.

He waits for you at the front door. You grab his watch from his station -- he forgot it, but maybe on purpose -- and wave it in the air. He smirks. Yeah, he did it on purpose.

"Well, shit," Steve says. "Look at that." You roll your eyes but hold out your empty hand. He looks confused for a second before he places his wrist in your palm. You gently put his watch on for him, savoring how warm he is, and you admire his hands again.

"Y'know," he says, and he's so close that you can feel his breath. "I think I'm done being shy."

"Yeah?" you say, and you tangle your fingers with his. His expression is soft, so much softer than he used to look in school. Like he's searching for something and thinks maybe he found it.

"Yeah. Do you want to go out with me sometime? Somewhere that isn't either of our shitty jobs?"

"That sounds nice, Steve," you say. "I'd love to."

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[huenjin]

unhooking a bra for dummies.

pairing: han jisung x reader

word count: 6k words

genre: smut

tw: use of swear words and name calling out of sheer affection, detailed sexual content — hickeys, breast play, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, clitoral stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, blowjob, deep throating, gagging, penetration, creampie.

note: this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous bts fic, the idiot's guide to unhook a bra.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, you are glad it is on your body and not his. Not with his strong history of trying to learn how to untie bras by wearing them and then snapping them only to ruin your pretty collection.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, it's on your request.

Not because you wanted Jisung to learn (not that it isn't a win-win situation) but mostly because you were so sex deprived from your boyfriend for two weeks now, thanks to his competitive arse. Thanks to his determination of wanting to learn how to remove a bra single handedly because some stupid magazine said it was cool.

Also because the movie was boring and your boyfriend seemed a lot more interesting than the movie's horrible direction.

You're on top of Jisung's lap, kissing down his neck, telling him to focus on how he's feeling and how he'd feel rather than being so competitive to remove the bra. Jisung pulls back and mumbles, "How does that work?"

"You've tried it enough for two weeks," you kiss him. "It's going to work."

"Is this a test?"

"Consider it," you sigh. "You're really killing the mood again, boy," you frown, before straightening up your spine and looking at him, "It's just a bra. Why are you so goddamn hung up over it?"

He confesses finally, "Because I saw some stupid article the day after I said everything. It told me that girls love it and that it'd make them happy."

Figures. You called out on this a week back.

You cup Jisung's face, a bit taken aback by his response, "But you make me happy either way."

"I—"

"Sungie," you press your forehead against his, smiling at how your boyfriend's eyes sparkle so brightly, "You're still going to be my star always. My sunshine."

You kiss Jisung, laughing against his lips when he coos at you. His hands are warm against that long brown sweater – way too long for you – you have always borrowed from him. He kisses you, his hands making way under his sweater, trailing slowly upwards as he draws out his kiss.

You know what he's trying to do and you choose to ignore, praying to all the gods out there that your boyfriend succeeds. He places his fingers on one side of the clasp and your thumb on the other. He moves towards your neck, peppering kisses against so as to distract you. He pinches both the sides together, sliding the right side against the left, freeing hooks from the eyelets. He pulls back from you, lips leaving your skin, at the same time your bra is undone.

"Bro," he stretches the syllable and you laugh, eyes wrinkling, commenting, "You sound like a white teenager."

"And you don't when you do?"

"Touché."

"But I did it," he screams, hugging you tight. The intensity at which he is joyous almost makes it seem like he won something great but that's Jisung for you. "I did it!"

"You did, baby! You did."

He kisses you again. Your boyfriend is so happy that he is smiling against your lips, breaking the kiss but he doesn't care and nor do you. He cradles your face in his hands, pulling back and laughs, "Hey, maybe we can sex tonight after all."

"Oh fuck, don't kill the mood. The last thing I want is Jeongin's catchphrase right before me getting hammered by my boyfriend after weeks."

"Like you haven't mentioned you don't want him around once?"

You flail your hands upwards in defense only to wrap it around Jisung and kiss him shut, mumbling against his lips, "Not today." Your lips tug onto his lower ones, latching onto it before pulling back and gazing at him. You could see how beautiful he was - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is good enough to bop. Han Jisung is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," he swears under his breath. You smile widely, eyes turning into crescents as he gazes at you, mumbling, "You're all mine, wow. I'm a lucky lucky man." You laugh, mumbling, "Yeah, you are." and lift your hand. Stretching your index finger, you poked his head, pushing it back, parietal bone hitting the bed's headboard.

Jisung gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. You lean forward, catching Jisung midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Jisung always leads and you're hoping he takes back the reins soon.

And he does. Just as you prayed. His hands are on your hips, gripping it harder, his leg wrapping over yours in one swift motion and he has you pinned under him, hot air fanning over your face and you're giggling. Jisung frowns at you before kissing your pinna and mumbling, pouting, "You lost weight, babe. You need to eat more."

"I've been busy with this project," you respond and brush his hair.

"I'll take you out for a fancy dinner tonight after this."

"You think we could go?"

"Uh huh," he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin lightly sending tingles down your spine. "We could. I want to treat my favorite girl to some sexy food."

"I love you."

He kisses you in response not so gently, immediately coaxing your mouth open to allow his tongue inside. His hands forget all about being slow and teasing, the stress of not having you for two weeks straight sending him desperate, running all over your body, before pausing.

"This one goes off," he tugs at his sweater that you are wearing, pulling it off of you only to gasp at your covered breasts. "That bra looks beautiful on you, fuck."

He stares at the wine purple bra hardly covering your breasts now that the strap was off, ready to fall off any minute from now. Jisung gapes at how beautiful they make your breasts look before tugging it off, mumbling, "I like you better without anything though."

One of his warm hands covers your breast, fingers slowly digging into the skin. His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth for the first time that night and in weeks now. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin.

"I missed you doing this," you gasp for air, hand holding onto his hair for grip and to angle him slightly. Jisung hasn't bothered every time you push yourself onto him, aching and craving for more. If anything, it's always made the bulge more prominent. "You stupid boy focussed on a thing that weren't necessary like unhooking a bra when we could — ah, fuck, Jisung." He rolls his tongue over your nipple, your hand tightening around his scalp, tugging at his hair furiously. "Yes!"

He lets go of your nipple only to raise himself upwards and hover over your face. He bites your bottom lip, small kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth and you respond with a weak whimper before pulling away, breathing loud and clear and vivid enough for your chest to rise and fall.

His large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh, the figure that's carved into his head, a memory attested forever that he's glad for. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire. Heat settles deep within the deepest cores of your abdomen, the heat slowly trailing downward stimulating your glands to release secretions that make your panties cling to your core. You moan when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your abdomen, involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a grunt, limited and constrained, and he groans out your name.

He moves lower, tugging at the straps of your panties with his teeth, grazing the skin around it, sending goosebumps sprouting. You laugh post the rush, "You're good at this though. Like really good, Jisung."

"I know," he laughs against your skin. "Need to have you keeping me around. What if you decided a vibrator's better than me?"

You laugh loudly, hand falling on your chest, "Pretty sure a vibrator can't kiss me and love me like you do, baby."

Your mouth parts open when he kisses you, his lips brushing against the skin covering the bones and you let out a set of breathy moans, heat pooling deep within your pubic region as you find yourself growing wetter when Jisung kisses you around your acetabulum. He tugs your panties down partially with his teeth, fingers helping him out till he gets completely away from your skin.

He lifts himself up, throwing his shirt away. Dipping his head down, his attention is back on his favorite spot on your neck by your prominent jugular. Jisung kisses your neck, whispering sweet nothings into you. His hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs, goosebumps rising from your flesh and you gasp.

“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His fingers are dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs. "You’re so fucking wet,” Jisung mutters, only to laugh and comment, "Maybe I should have fucked you.”

"Should have," you whine. "But guess what? My boyfriend's fucking— Ah!"

He absent-mindedly plays with strings of your arousal, coating his palms and fingers. You gasp at the sudden contact. Twisting and turning his fingers, he gathers up the dangling strings of arousal, before bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean. His gaze is still fixated on yours.

"Fuck you."

"Sure. On it, babe."

Tauntingly, he continues teasing your cunt — the tip of his finger lightly pressing against the entrance, but never enough to fully enter you. Each small action has you moving forward in pleasure as you try to push against his hand in an attempt to sink his finger into you. Jisung chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. He licks the mark before kissing down your clavicle.

He runs his finger through your core, collecting more of your juices onto his digit, before teasingly entering you barely. You find yourself hissing and bucking, your entrance twitching around the tip of his finger responsively.

“Jisung,” you whine, pushing your core further into his hand. “Please,” you implore, beg. You're desperate enough and two weeks of no contact has left you unhinged. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy clit causing you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. He pushes himself up and lowers down your body to meet your core. Your core involuntarily clenches, releasing another gush of wetness, pooling down the skin and staining his bedsheets messily.

"Your clothes—" you point, tugging at his pants. "Off, hoe," you sigh. "Now."

"Not yet," he rasps. "Need to give you that orgasm I owe you."

"Ah!" You sigh pleasantly. Jisung moans, shuddering under your fingertips. “My girl is all pretty and wet all for me," he mewls. His fingers trace small circles further into your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance again. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand and you try to get him to push his fingers into you now.

“Jisung, shut with the teasing, you bitch,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the want in your voice exhibiting now through annoyance, along with the greed for so much more. He laughs at your name calling, against your skin, nose brushing against your skin and with a kiss to your mound, his digits lightly push against the tightness of your entrance. He relishes and dwells himself in the way you tighten around just for him. You are just for him. A being he has been blessed with that's made for him just as he is for you. His eyes sparkle in mirth at your core clenching and unclenching involuntarily around him. You whine, “Fuck," trying to tighten around his digit as much as possible, almost as if you think your orgasm is going to rush in just by the sheer touch of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend pushes one and then another finger into you. Your wetness allows them to slide in with ease and he gasps at how the jagged inner walls of yours feel — a memory he wishes he could remember every time. Somehow he's glad he can't because every single moment with you feels like a first time for him. The rush and excitement is unmatched. Drawing raspy breaths from you, he slowly begins pumping them into you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. He pumps them into you, relishing every moan and swear word that leaves your lips. It's perhaps the very fact that you haven't had sex with him for so long that makes you want him more than ever, your arousal evident and dripping around, coating his finger.

He breathes in the scent of your arousal deeply, pressing kisses against your skin, softly at first before it turns into intense ones, licking and sucking on them to make a visible mark against them, staining your mound with purple and dark red hues.

“I fucking love you, man,” His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the deep sound that turns deeper every single time he whispers, thrums against your skin, before kissing against the skin again. You are so close to breaking down from just his breath against you, gripping on his hair so hard that you are worried you're going to rip his hair out. “Yes, yes, yes,” leaves your lips and letting out an appreciative groan, Jisung slides his fingers deeper into you till his knuckles touch the sides of your core and you are gasping, taking in heavy breaths of air, eyes squeezing shut.

“You're literally swallowing me,” Jisung breathily whispers against your core, pressing a butterfly kiss against your clit. His words cause you to clench involuntarily, squeezing around him tightly and then his mouth is against your core, more specifically your clit, licking on it, before sucking, inappropriate sounds hitting off the walls, eliciting a choked moan from you.

You are about to say a word before Jisung curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the rush that it sends, a moan leaving your lips loudly as you scream out, “Sungie!”

You feel him rubbing against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you — a discovery he makes every time all over again — before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs, making a mess.

"Wet and dripping. I’ll give you what you want, baby. You were so patient with me.” He rubs your walls, his attention undivided on your enlarged clit and your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately.

He lifts himself up – his hand still rubbing against your spot – trailing kisses upwards till he latches onto your mouth, tugging at your lower lip. He delves into your mouth, tangling with your tongue. The sensations are heightened, your head unable to focus on either. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together. Jisung uses his other hand to hold your jaw and angle your head in such a way that your foggy gaze is fixed on his sharp ones and your mouth opens slightly.

"Come for me, babe," he urges. His command, along with the way his fingers rub across your clit, has you crossing off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion for the first time that night and in weeks. You see the stars as you squint your eyes shut forcefully, breathing loud and shallow as you chant your boyfriend's name like a mantra. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is and Jisung slowly rubs you through your high.

Skin flushing with heat and covered in sweat, you feel electric sparks jolt across your flesh under your skin as bright ecstasy rumbles in your veins all over again as your boyfriend rubs your clit vigorously. In a split second without any heed or warning, his mouth is still on you. He flicks your clit with a snap of his finger and instantly, your muscles lock up, your nerves oversensitized. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and you tug at Jisung's hair, face falling to the side as you bite into your lower lip.

Out of breath almost instantly, Jisung hovers over you, cupping your face with one hand of his and kissing you, wiping your tears away. You breathe in his air as he kisses you, your jaw slackens sadly once he leaves. You let out a loud whineful cry as a powerful orgasm powers through you again, his hand leaving yours for a minute as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your thighs quake violently as your back raises and arches upwards slightly. Your boyfriend's other arm wraps around your back as he kisses you through your heightened orgasm, helping you settle down. Your muscles tremble and ache and soon you find your hips halting their movement as you lose yourself into pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices, glistening in the light of the room and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.

“That was so fucking hot,” he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are squeezed shut post that powerful orgasm, thick rivers of tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you’re alright and able to breath right.

"You're a bitch, dude," you barely let out. "But I love you."

Once you collect your breath, you move down his body, overcome with the need to please your boyfriend, to please this beautiful man who just made you come twice on his tongue, overstimulated you enough to make you squirt, embarrassing the hell out of your being. You hastily grip the hem of his sweats and begin to pull them down.

Jisung pushes himself backwards instinctively when you lift yourself up. You hold his shoulders, body still trembling from the after effects of your last orgasm and ask, "On your back, please."

"Baby, you don't— It's all you today."

"Yeah, and so let me."

Jisung lays on his back on your command and you kneel between his legs. He pulls himself upwards, one arm bending to support him and the other resting beneath his head to support his head up. He watches you position yourself between his thick thighs, practically drooling at the sight of his large cock. He finally lies there completely naked, a small smile dancing on his lips at the sight of you, skin glowing in the dim light of the room, soft music from the neighbours you are grateful for, muscles straining slightly despite his relaxed state, belly button piercing twinkling every now and then as the light hits the metal.

You take his cock into your mouth, working him in small portions. You remember how intimidated you had felt the first night you tried giving your boyfriend a head. Even though Jisung was kind enough to praise you through it, cradling and caressing you throughout, it was hard. With a girth as thick as his and mouth as small as yours, it was bound to be hard. With time, you learned of the ways to take his cock like an absolute professional, though it still managed to overwhelm you at certain times, if he really wanted to give it to you good. Not that you minded. You doubt you'd ever mind it when it's Han Jisung.

You bob your head, mouth coating his skin in your saliva, as your hand works what you can’t reach yet, encasing it in your grip. Above your head, Jisung is sighing, coral pouty lips parting and clenching his jaw as he watches his cock disappear inch by inch into your pretty, pink mouth, enjoying the sight of your lips wrapped so warmly around him. He loves watching you take him slowly. Jisung loves it so much that he thinks if he could stamp one memory forever or take a picture to treasure, it is this. One of his hands slips down to grip at your hair, only holding it back loosely for now, not applying any pressure. He loves seeing you like this as much as he wouldn't agree to you directly but he thinks you know. You seem like you know. Yet again, there is nothing you don't know about him.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs out when you take more of him in and suck firmly on your way back up, licking at the head and sucking on it leisurely, tongue lapping at the sensitive pink skin of his length. He curses once again, huffing out a heavy breath, going delirious at the sight of you bobbing on his length. The rise of his chest begins to increase its pace and his body begins to build up a sweat all over again.

He groans loudly when you go down once again, taking in the most that you’ve had so far. Your eyes are closed, hair out of your way and your tongue is at against his length. His arm supports his body and he sits up. You feel the movement and you quickly open your eyes, pulling away and moving upwards hastily. You attempt to pull him out of your mouth to see if you did anything wrong. However, he places his hand firmly to the back of your head — you feel the large hand cover most of your head, hand gripping on a ponytail he has made and fixates your head exactly where it is.

“Keep going, please,” he breathes out and your pussy practically melts at that, as you look up at Jisung, his eyelids half closing in pleasure, his grip on your hair getting tighter. He glistens in the dim light, body shining from the sweat and you press your tongue flat against his tongue suddenly and he jerks.

“Fuck your mouth is, shit—“ he pauses to groan, pushing your mouth further down and you try to fight your gag reflex as much as possible. “This is what heaven feels like, baby. This is heaven on Earth.”

He takes control of your movements now. Being the soft dominant human being he is, he clutches your hair tightly to guide your mouth on his cock as he pleases. He eventually begins to buck his hips up to fuck your mouth, the explicit stickling sound of your saliva coating his cock every time he moves, resonating and bouncing off the walls. You're gagging heavily, trying to breathe properly through your nose. Saliva is dripping down your chin because of his length which is so big that you know you'd never be able to take him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes roll over before your eyelids shut and Jisung's controlling your movements completely now.

“Love this pretty mouth of yours, baby,” he groans, pushing your head as far down as you could go. You choke a bit, letting out a stunned noise, one out of breath but you grip his thighs in an attempt to calm yourself and relax, despite the tears stinging your eyes at your gag reflex kicking in. Jisung slows down his movements, letting go of your hair but you refuse to move. You grab his hand before he could let go of you and you place it back over your head. He smiles and guides you again.

Your arousal drips down your core again and down your thighs, and you can’t help but push yourself forward. Your rear is pushing back against nothing but sheer want and lust for the man before you and his eyes catch onto the sight of your supple soft skin up in the air while your mouth is still locked on his cock. The entire position makes him lust over this woman before him that he proudly calls his.

“You’re so pretty,” he pants, eyes fluttering for a second when you suck on him harder, tongue licking a stripe along the underside of his dick all the way to its head, taking it home. Your hand grips on his balls, carressing it lightly under your fingertips when you feel it tightening. You know he's close and so you suck at the tip of his head furiously, letting out grunts from Jisung's lips, leaving them so deliriously that it has you moving quicker, jumping your groin into nothing. He finally pulls you off his cock, still gripping your hair firmly.

You cough for a while, stained aftermath of saliva on the corner of your lips. Your eyes are teary, some spilling from the corners and your lips are swollen. Jisung somehow, weirdly likes it. He loves seeing you fucked out for him over his cock. He loves seeing your slight makeup haphazard and your entire being disoriented for him. He thinks he's a fucking masochist because he wants to make you cry on his cock — cry for his cock.

"Why?" Your voice is parched as you manage to ask. "You were close."

He pulls you close, tugging at your arm and you fall on top of his chest. He kisses your nose and smiles, wiping the tears away from the corner of your eyes before whispering, "Need to come inside of you, baby."

And he flips you over in the flash of a second and you are under him for the second time that night, ready for a million times for the rest of your life. You kiss him, your shaking hands cupping his face, rubbing small circles into the side with your thumb.

Jisung holds one of your legs by its underside and lifts it above, placing it on your shoulder. You prop your body slightly upwards, ache residing by the joints and Jisung kisses the skin at your acetabulum. He brushes his cock against your cunt and a harsh swear leaves his pretty lips. The tip brushes your clit, tingles running down your spine. Your nails dig into his hand by your side, holding onto the bedsheet and you gasp.

He slides in slowly, letting you get used to his girth and familiarise yourself with it. He pushes it in agonisingly slow and it adds further to the sensuality. The stretch causes you to curl your toes in ecstasy. With your leg over his shoulder, heels digging into the skin by his scapula, the way he is holding you allows him to move deeper, sliding in until you can feel him by your deepest parts and his thighs are pressed against your purple bruised ones. He bends forward and you watch your boyfriend.

Fuck, you love him. So much.

His face is soft and yet so affectionate, his features molded from the divine being, flawless and perfect. Jisung is panting in your ears, the grunt soft and echoing in your eardrums, amplifying on their way to your cochlea and you surround yourself in him. His muscles are tense and the words come out in a low, deep tone, "Fuck, you're swallowing me as a whole. Baby, you are so pretty."

He kisses your lips, ceasing his movements for a while in your wet warmth, whispering against them, "I'm so lucky, so lucky, so lucky—"

He pushes once more to go deeper if it's possible and you moan loudly. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and he can't believe that you're all for him, made for him just as he was for you. You squeeze around him unknowingly and he swears under his breath, his grip on your hip tightening. He knows he could come with you just wrapped around him perfectly, with all your warmth encasing him like he's lucky. He grits his teeth and pulls out. When he slams into you again, his pubic bone hitting your nether region, balls slapping against your arse, you scream. He's close already from you giving a phenomenal head and now when you're squeezing him like your life depended on it, he knows he's going to lose his sanity to you.

Jisung picks up a pace. It is fast and hard and has you gripping onto him for the life of yours. Your hips move along to match his pace and when your moans get excessive, he locks his lips with yours, owning every one of them and making them his. You scream louder into his mouth, muffled screams slipping out. You can feel him twitching against your wall and the whine that leaves you is muffled by his mouth again.

"I want to see you come again, baby," he mumbles, pushing into you, jerking you up. "I want to see you come undone because of me. All around me."

He lets go of your leg, feeling your leg move unsteadily because of the ache that rests in your joints, and moves his hand over your clit. He taps on your clit at a steady pace and you fill your mind slowly coming undone, like a pearl necklace ready to snap. His mouth is against your ear, licking a stripe at the cartilage before whispering into it, "Look at you. So fucking pretty. You're a—" He thrusts into you, hitting a spot that has you shuddering down on him fighting an urge to come undone so quickly, both you and him that Jisung has to catch his breath for a second there. "—my goddess. You're perfect for me. Need to see you come undone under my touch. Need to see you break into a vulnerable mess because of my touch. Need you to wrap around me perfectly."

Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and it's all too much. Your senses are heightened and you feel his warmth around you perfectly and in you completely. Your hand finds its way back to Jisung's hair, tugging at the ones by his nape, digging into the skin by his neck before travelling to messily hold at his scapula, arm falling over his shoulders.

"Please, fuck— please, Sungie," you cry. "Want you, need you, need you, need yo—"

Your boyfriend grunts, his grip firmer than a second before, his stomach quivering and his hips striking, picking up momentum until he's pounding you against the warmth of your bed, the bed making sounds of creeking occasionally as it pushes backwards and falls back forward. You wrap your legs around his waist, hips moving upwards wildly because you know you're close and you know Jisung is too.

He kisses you, passionate and fiery. Your brain feels fuzzy, your consciousness diminishing. Your fucked out expression is the one look that he knows he'd want to get it sketched. Your eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, face glistening in sweat, lips swollen and red and parted, with moans leaving them so softly that he knows he's ruined for. You are whining, moans leaving your lips one after another in no particular order of vocal range — occasionally screaming so loud that you know the nice lady across the hall is going to give you a earful tomorrow morning — when his cock slams into the same spot that has you losing your mind and it snaps.

"Fuck, Jisung!" You come around his cock, the white flash spreading under your eyelids and you're weeping, desperately, mercilessly. The tears in your eyes fall at that, the combination of sensations you’re experiencing right now too much to handle and Jisung quickly catches onto it with an almost sinister chuckle. Your heart swells and you feel the rushing oxytocin clouding your brain, filling you with nothing but love for Jisung.

Jisung continues thrusting into you, chasing after his own orgasm. He still whispers into your ear that makes you bloom in confidence, "There, baby. You're doing so well. That's my girl." You know that he is close and so you hold him tight, squeezing around his girth and your boyfriend moans. You kiss his neck, leaving marks on his skin as you bend forwards. His hips stutter widely and a deep groan fills your ears. You can faintly feel it as he comes undone in the sheath you are. It's pulsating, warm and hot and he holds himself in you, thrusting slowly and languidly to come down from his high, moaning into you.

His lips constantly peck yours, over and over again, lazily giving you gentle kisses as you feel his come leak out of you, once he pulls out of you, humming a soft tune against you, his voice surrounding you. He moves to lie beside you, pulling you to lie on your side in front of him, continuing to kiss you lazily as he begins to sneak his tongue into your mouth, leg draping over yours, arm wrapping around your middle to pull you closer to him and press your body completely to his, gently stroking your sweaty hair back.

The whole situation is a mess but there is something so domestic and warm about this, about Jisung just holding you in moments after sex.

You do the same, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the soft treatment and the gentle feel of his lips, your hands tracing his shoulders and biceps before going to his chest and sneakily tracing down to his belly button, poking the metal piercing. You pull away for a second with a tired giggle.

“You know,” you murmur, voice hoarse for all kinds of reasons clearly. “You’re really hot and all but this," you kiss his nose, "This is why I keep you around."

“What a bitch," he laughs. "A bitch I love a bit too much."

"Aw," you coo. "I love you too, babe."

"What's this, Jisung?"

You point at the beautiful packaged box, also tied with yet another beautiful red ribbon. It is surrounded by fresh rose petals in the side. Having known Jisung for years now, you are not completely wrong when you suspect something fishy. It's not even Valentine's.

"I swear to God, Sungie, if this is some weird shit—"

He raises his hands in defense, leaning against the doorpost, waiting for you to open the gift. He has a smug expression on his face, so ready to tease the crap out of you.

You pull the ribbon out and open the lid of the box, only to find a thong in it. A bright red colored one. You pick it up, holding the string between your thumb and your forefinger only to find the vibrator attached to it and the words, 'It Ain't Gonna Lick Itself,' on the fabric.

"You bastard."

And you chase after him, your hand stretched forward after throwing the thong back onto the bed. Jisung's already sprinting away from the bedroom and into the hall, jumping on the sofas to get away from you. You're laughing, finding the whole situation extremely ridiculous just as much as the present is; chasing after your boyfriend like you were five. And when you scream at your boyfriend as to why, all he has to say is —

"It's your fault. You were the one whining about not spicing up our sex life, babe."

"That was you!"

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 08 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.5 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (07)

Next part (09)->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Hearts Wide Open

Silently, you let Billy pull you inside. You can't help but give a quick look around as he closes the door. “Are you busy?” You ask, gesturing at the TV.

“I was going to work out but...” He walks over there and turns it off. “I–” Someone knocks, cutting him off. “Who's this?”

“Delivery for Susan Hargrove.” A male voice says, and Billy rolls his eyes.

“Give me a sec.” He mutters before heading to the door.

Nodding, you pace around the living room. There's a bench press in the middle of it, and the bellbar seems very heavy. Walking further inside, you give a glance at the door. Billy seems to be arguing with the guy, so you decide to explore, walking through a small hall. On the first door, you hear some music, so it's probably Max's room. You go for the next door, slowly opening it.

It doesn't take much time until you notice it's Billy's room. He doesn't seem like he's done arguing, so you walk in. The bed is messed up, and there are movie posters on the wall. Walking around, you notice a couple of pictures on the inside of his wardrobe door, which was left open. In one of them, a blonde woman is looking away, a hand keeping her hair away from her face. In the other, the same woman with a kid next to her, both smiling. It's Billy's mother, that's clear.

“Sneaky,” Billy says, startling you a little.

Stepping away from the wardrobe, you clear your throat. “Sorry, Mmm... She's beautiful.” You mutter, gesturing at the pictures. “And you seemed very happy.”

“I was.”

“Yeah...” Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms. “B, I...”

“I'm sorry, (Y/N).”

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk over to the bed, sitting on the edge, eyes locked on your hands. “Why did you... Why did you disappear like that?” You didn't plan on getting all sentimental, but it's just flowing out. “We were fine... Normal and then... You just left.”

“Stacy pushed you because of me. People are... People are starting to notice we're around each other a lot and they'll start calling you a slut. And... I already screwed up my life, I can't screw up yours.” Billy sits next to you, so you pull a leg up, folding it under you and turning your body towards him.

“First of all, I need to know if what you said at the mall still stands. Or else I'll sound like an idiot.” Keeping your voice low, you try not to sound too nervous.

“Every single word. That's why I decided to step away.”

Nodding, mostly to yourself, you sigh. “I... I was trying, you know? Trying to see if we would work out somehow.” You didn't want to admit it, but here you are. And if you don't speak your heart now, you never will. “We're extreme opposites but I do enjoy spending time with you. And the friendship we're creating is good so when you left, when you disappeared, skipped school... It upset me.” Looking down, you see his hand on the mattress. Shyly, and very slowly, you take it, your fingers caressing his. “If you're tired of me, of... Waiting to see how things play out, it's alright. But please, go back to school. Keep studying because I'll help you no matter what. Just... Just don't do this.”

Billy takes a deep breath before taking your hand in his and moving closer. “I disappeared because you're the only person whose life I can't ruin. I can't be the reason why you get hurt, or called mean names, or–”

“I don't care about what people think or say, Billy. I only care about what's real. What's happening here and...” Shrugging your shoulders, you pull his hand up with yours, just to make your point clear. “It's freaking good so far. At least to me.”

“A girl like you should stay away from guys like me.”

“I know.” Nodding, you bite your lip. “My mother and I spoke about it. About you. So did Nancy, and Steve... They warned me not to fall for your games.”

“There are no games, not with you.” The honesty hits you a different way, and you can't help but smile.

You're aware of what people say, and you know the things Billy did. But you can see the difference now. Billy never tried anything. No flirting, no cheesy pick-up lines, not calling you to a ‘more quiet place’. Nothing. He's being... A completely different person. He treats you nicely, a freaking gentleman, something you never expected of him. Mostly not after the way he approached you last year, all charming and wicked smiles. This is different. This is real.

“Billy... I called before coming and your sister answered the phone.” You start, wondering if you should really ask what you're about to ask. But still, you need to. You need to know if you can allow certain feelings to emerge. “She said something about a keychain and... She said that... That she thinks you're in love with me.” The last part is barely a whisper, and you wonder if he even heard you.

Billy doesn't answer, he just stands up, walking away.

“B, I'm–”

“It fell from your bag last year.” He says, and you turn around on the bed, finding him next to the nightstand, a metal daisy flower in his hand. “I was going to give it back but it was broken so... I don't know. I wanted to just throw it away but I ended up keeping it.”

“Why, B?”

“Because it reminded me of you.” Stretching out his arm, he passes it over to you. You remember it now, taking the cold metal in your hands. “I thought it was everything I would ever have. A broken keychain and those moments that I got to look at you from afar.”

After a while, you give it back to him. It takes a few seconds before he takes it, sighing. “I always noticed you staring. I just never knew why.”

“I may be.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you tilt your head to the side a little. “I don't get it.”

“I may be in love with you.” His voice is heavy, and you can see in his eyes that he feels vulnerable. Billy Hargrove admitting he's in love with a girl? This might be hard for him.

“I like you, B. So... Don't decide things for me.” Getting up from the bed, you walk over where he stands. “I don't care about mean names, or stupid girls pushing me. I can deal with that. And you can't ruin my life, I'm the only one who can do that.” Taking his hand, you look up into his eyes. “And I don't think you ruined yours. You can still fix things. You are fixing things.”

“With your help.”

“With my help.” You agree with a smile. “So what do you say? Can we please go back to normal, you and I?”

Billy's lips break into a smile, and he nods. “Is that what you want? To be seen with the bad boy? You, princess of Hawkins.”

“That's Nancy's nickname.” Stepping backward, you smirk at him.

“Oh, yeah. Yours is ‘pretty girl’.” He quickly ends the distance between you two, towering over you.

“Stacy wouldn't agree.”

“Stacy is jealous.” Billy lightly touches your cheek, so softly you barely feel his fingers, like a ghost. “I'll say it a million times over, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

“Am I?” You shyly ask, eyes focused on his. Billy was never this close, and it makes your stomach burn.

“You are.” Suddenly, he steps away, walking around you, straight to the door. “Your tits are fine by the way.” He says from the hall, when he's already out.

Your whole face burns, and you storm after him. “First of all, don't use that word.” You yell, walking fast to the living room. Billy is by the bench press, ready to lift the bellbar. “Second, drop that. We're going to study until you pass out.”

“What?”

“I'm not asking.” Raising an eyebrow, you put both hands on your hips. “C'mon, Hargrove.”

It takes a while until he drops the bar, eyes rolling before he follows you.

The drive to your place is on separate cars. You'd stay at his house, but you were quick to get that his father is a problem, so it's just easier to do it at your place.

When you get there, you make a show opening the front door, gesturing for him to get inside.

“Mom, I got Billy back!” You shout.

“Good to know you're better from that cold, Billy.” She says from upstairs.

“A cold?”

“Yeah. It was that or tell Mrs. Martinez you were skipping class.” Shrugging your shoulders, you go to the dining room, settling down in your usual place. “So we're ok now? Friends again?”

“Friends again.” He agrees, searching for your hand under the table and grabbing it, thumb caressing the back of your hand. “As long as you want me around.”

Smiling, you nod. “As long as I want you around.” You snap back with a sassy tone. “Now, immunology.”

“Immunology it is.”

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @theodore-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85 @taisab02 @pascal-rascal424 @aleksanderblack

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter One)

Post-blip (five or six months later)

A/N: This is my first time writing on this website or anything public really, I usually just write for me, please just bear with me if it looks or sounds janky. Also, thanks for taking the time to read. I deeply & wholeheartedly appreciate you. Enjoy!

Summary: I suck at them but, I'll give it a shot. You- the reader, are surprised by 'old' friends when they show up out of the blue, asking for your help on a mission. (This is just the sum for chap. 1)

Word count: 2,760

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, ex-boyfriend jealousy...

The day was coming to an end, a small heatwave conjuring up a sweat as you wiped down your last table for the night. You blew out a breath, brushing back a sheen of perspiration with your forearm, watching the last customer walk out of the restaurant as the bell chimed above their head.

You never understood why people chose to sit inside when there were tables out on the sidewalk. It was hotter in here than out there, especially since the air conditioner had gone out just a few days prior and the fans above the tables were only circling the air inside. It was an actual oven, but they contended.

Your hightops heaved across the tile, dragging yourself with the sufficiency of a person who was only working because they had to. You kicked up the doorstop, pulling the door towards you with a small amount of goodwill and vigor to finish locking up, flipping the paper sign over from open to closed. It wasn't as if you hated your job. You thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere of it all. It was the only person working the night shift job you hated with every fiber of your being. You weren't completely alone in the restaurant, having a few cooks and the owner to keep you company, especially on busy nights like the one you just had.

"I'm clocking out, Mrs. Turner!" You call out, reaching behind your back to untie the knot of your apron, pulling it up and off your neck once the ties came undone. Trudging back to the table, you picked up the disinfectant wipe and toss it in the bin, making your way to your boss's office before hanging up your apron on the hook. "Mrs. Turner...?" You murmur softly, poking your head in through the doorway, only to see her counting the profits for the day. "I'm heading home," You chime, pointing behind your shoulder with your thumb as she glances up at you.

"Alright, Honey," She beams, a bright smile pulling at her lips as her eyes meet yours. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Working for the Turners wasn't supposed to be a permanent job, in fact, it wasn't even your original plan, as opposed to the small favors you would complete now and then for the people that were willing to pay a pretty penny for your...services.

But you figured having a stable job was smarter and safer than the alternative. And the help wanted sign was very persuasive, due to the pretty colors and splashes of glitter. It looked like it was made by a child, which you later found out, was decorated by Mrs. Turner's seven-year-old. "Always." You accede, tapping the doorframe as your goodbye before parading into the breakroom to gather your things from the lockers.

You take your backpack off the hook and swing the strap over your shoulder before time punching your card and going straight through the back door. The sounds of the city hit your ears as the heavy door slammed behind you. Traffic honks and tires treading against the grain while you walk further into the busy streets of San Francisco.

As you were about to turn the corner, you were met with the sight of your friend's van, followed by a trumpet rendition of La Cucaracha. You grinned widely, gripping your strap tighter as you jog up the 1972 Ford Ecoline, aka Big Bertha. At least that's what you called it. "Luis!" You rejoice, resting your palms on the ledge. "What are you doing here?"

"Scotty sent me out for a few things," Luis answers, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head turned to you. "I was just about to go when I saw you. Thought you might need a ride." He shrugs, a cute smile playing on his lips.

You nod, reciprocating the smile at his answer. "Yeah, if it's not too much trouble..." You drag, your voice hesitant, as if he didn't offer at all.

"Nah, get in." He gestures, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. "Your place is on the way," Luis loosens his seatbelt, reaching over to the passenger side to pull up the lock, opening the door for you.

You climb in, plopping down on the tufted leather seats as you pulled the door towards you, closing it shut. "Thanks, Lu," You breathe, dropping your backpack below your feet, then you fasten your seatbelt. "How is Scott, anyway?" You ask as Luis changes gears and presses the gas, the van rolls onto the street.

"Ehh...he's...he's alright, know what I'm sayin'?" He answers, glancing at you before focusing back on the road. "I mean, he missed like five years of his daughter's life. He's just trying to spend as much time with her to make up for years they both lost."

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, nodding softly in agreement as the city lights passed you by. There wasn't much you could say to that, having lost so many people yourself. People you considered family just...gone.

"Yo!" Luis pipes up, snapping you out of your train of thought. "Didja see the news today?!" He shakes his head, whistling at the thought. "I can't believe they would just give some random dude the shield like that, ya know?"

You drew in your bottom lip in contempt, nodding once again at Luis. You had seen the news, and they couldn't have picked a better time to broadcast. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Turner asking you in, you would've hunted Sam Wilson down and kicked his ass yourself.

The van rolled to a stop, brakes squealing as Luis pulled up beside your apartment. You sighed heavily, glancing at the small apartment you shared with your Ex-boyfriend. By the looks of the living room light illuminating behind the curtains, he was home, and you absolutely dreaded when he was. It wasn't as if you wanted to live with him, but you had no other alternative. Ever since dropping your side job, money was tighter, and he was kind enough to let you stay, just until you found a place. "Thanks again for the ride, Lu." You mumble, unclicking your seatbelt as you took hold of your backpack. "You didn't have to."

"Don't even mention it, Y/N," Luis reassures, watching you as you pull at the door handle, opening it to get out. "I know how hard it is to get back into the norm."

You shut the passenger door, shooting him a sympathetic smile. "I'll see you around?"

With a smile, Luis waves goodbye and drives off into the night, the exhaust pipe blowing smoke as he rode off. You shook your head, cracking a smile at the honk of his horn. You turned towards the front entrance of the apartment, your stomach twisting as your smile dropped completely. You swallowed thickly, rolling the tension from your shoulders to prepare yourself before jogging up the small flight of stairs.

You fished your keys from the front pocket of your backpack, taking a breath before shoving the key into the lock, twisting as you pushed the door open with your shoulder. "Joshua?!" You voiced, calling out your ex's name to make sure it was him. You dropped your belongings beside the door, pushing your sneakers off before kicking the door shut with your foot.

"Yeah, in here!" He responds quickly, a slight tremor to his tone.

You frown softly, tossing your keys into the bowl on the console table before sauntering to where his voice was emanating from. "Josh, are you...?" Your voice came to a halt, your footsteps stopping altogether as you walked into the living room.

"Hey!" Joshua exclaims once your figure comes into view. "You wanna explain who they are?" He presses, his face crossed with fear as he gestures to the two men sitting calmly on your living room couch.

You remained quiet, your body tense, eyes wide as your focus shifted between the men on the couch and your ex.

"Well...?" Joshua demands, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting in his stance at the unsettling glare one of the men was sending his way. "I was in the middle of hosting game night-as you can see, when they showed up," Josh drops his arms, hands splaying out to gesture to the coffee table consisting of five different dips, two bulk-sized bags of tortilla chips, and a twenty-four pack of Blue Moon beer. "The guys were just about to come over."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to refrain from any and all insults towards your ex. That explained why he was home. "Um..." You utter, pinching the bridge of your nose, "Fucking hell," You curse under your breath, eyes fluttering open to look at Joshua. "Josh," You begin, clearing your throat as you start with the man on the left. "They are Sam Wilson and..." You hesitate, eyes settling on the man to the right, his sight alone bringing back the memories that you swore you didn't want to remember. "James Barnes," You finish, ripping your eyes away from his baby blues to look at your ex. "Aka-"

"The Falcon and The Winter Soldier..." Joshua finishes for you, his eyes flashing with amazement, head whipping towards the guys. "Shit!" He curses, smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Can I get you guys anything? A plate? Beer?"

"Actually," You grunt, interrupting before Sam or Bucky could answer. "Can you give us a minute, Joshua?" Insisting while your foot tapped impatiently against the hardwood floor.

"Should I be worried?" He inquires, eyes filled with confusion as he looked between the three of you, trying to piece together the situation at hand. The main reason you and Joshua couldn't work it out was that you kept a lot of secrets, mostly from him. He didn't like the fact that you wouldn't let him in. Sure, you lied to him, the biggest lie being that you were an Avenger, but that was just to keep him safe. There were other reasons why you decided to split up as well. Joshua knew...he knew deep down you were just with him to pass the time. He could see it when he looked into your eyes. There was someone else in the reflection and it wasn't him. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that it did hurt him. That he wanted a chance to make it work with you, but with the way you were staring at James, he finally recognized that reflection.

He should've noticed it early on-like that day he had somehow convinced you to take a trip to D.C for a tour of the Captain America museum. You were hell-bent on not going, trying to make up some elaborate excuse or an alibi of sorts, but alas, you still went. And for some odd reason, you couldn't stop coming back to the Bucky Barnes portion.

"No," You reply, keeping it short to dismiss him.

Joshua's mouth set in a hard line, a foreign feeling forming in the pit of his stomach-jealousy. He never had to worry about it before, especially when his friends used to come over, back when you were still together. Except for that one time, but how could he blame them? You were the kind of person that listened, laughed at the jokes being made, could lend a hand when needed, and your looks were just a bonus in his book. "Uhm, yeah," He coughed, frowning softly while nodding his head at you. "I have to go pick up the pizza, anyway," Josh brushes past you, fetching his keys from the bowl while slipping on his Vans that sat up against the wall ledge that separated the front door from the living room. "Are you going to be okay?" He mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

You shoot Josh a smile, nodding reassuringly, his footsteps approaching closer before stopping in front of you, the palm of his hand landing gently on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Let me know if you need anything, m'kay?" Josh's voice is soft, the concern in his eyes making you feel guilty. You knew he cared about you, and there wasn't a time where you'd catch him staring at you for far too long, but you were well past that. "I'm just a text away," He notes, waving his cell in his hand.

"Josh, I'll be fine," You sigh, stepping away from his touch, the sound of his hand hitting his jeans as it dropped from your shoulder. "I always am."

"Right," Josh nods, looking over at the men on the couch before gazing back at you. "I'll see you in a bit, bug." And with that, he turns, opens the front door, and steps out, shutting the wooden door behind him.

You close your eyes, the pet name Josh had coined for you making you sigh. He agreed to stop calling you that all together and it only made you feel that more guilty for ending things. "So..." You pipe up, opening your eyes as you turned to look at the guys. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Bug?"

Bucky is the first to speak, his jaw clenched at the mere sound of the word. Indignant at the way Josh had touched you, even if it was just your shoulder. "I didn't know he knew you like that," Bucky flashes you a taut smile, nodding softly as he shared a look with Sam, but the falcon only shook his head. "How long have you been..." Bucky couldn't even finish the question, his glove-clad hands tightening at the thought of you being with somebody else...someone that wasn't him. Though, it was his own fault. If he hadn't done what he'd done-you'd have never found another.

"Wow," You scoff, padding closer to where they sat. "You don't miss a beat, do you? Just..." You sink into the sofa adjacent to the one they occupied. "-Right into the big stuff."

"I didn't bring you here to question her about her love life," Sam voices, his scolding eyes on the man beside him. "And she sure as hell isn't obligated to answer you, Bucky."

You smile gratefully at Sam before glancing down at your leg that had begun to bounce in anticipation. "What are you guys doing here? And how'd you find me?" You ask, tilting your head in curiosity as you look up at the guys. "When I resigned from the Avengers initiative, they ensured me that I wasn't able to be traced, not by your or any other remaining member. I was supposed to be scot-free," You declare, hitting your thigh with your fist.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Sam chuckles, shaking his head at the naivety. "We both know that's a bunch of bullshit. The government is always going to have its eyes on us. Especially free agents like you and us."

You draw in your bottom lip, biting down, eyes flickering between Sam and Bucky. You knew it was too good to be true, and part of you sensed the bullshit when the government explained it to you. You just didn't want to believe it.

"You were an ex-assassin. How could they not keep tabs on your whereabouts?" Sam recounts, emphasizing that it was in the past. At least, that's what they thought. "And I had some help from Redwing as well." He shrugs nonchalantly.

You choke out a laugh, shaking your head at the smug demeanor emitting from Sam. "Redwing," You whisper, smiling thinly. "Of course, nothing could ever be hidden from your personal P.I, huh?"

"I hate that thing," Bucky grumbles, folding his arms across his chest. in annoyance. "Invasion of privacy, I'm telling you."

"You love redwing," Sam jokes, playfully jabbing Bucky's arm with his elbow, "It's okay Bucky, you can admit it."

"Can we get back to the issue here?" You interject, "Not one of you has explained the reason you're here. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great to see you...one more than the other," You whisper that last part but, completely aware that Bucky could hear it. "But, you both showing up out of the blue...? That's almost a bad omen."

"I didn't ask him here, by the way," Sam acknowledges, raising his hands in defense, "I just want to get that out of the way. Bucky came because he wanted to. I'm here," Sam gestures to himself, "-For one reason and one reason only..."

"And what's that?" You ask, leaning forward in your seated position.

"I need your help, Y/N."

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden - Chapter 2

Summary- Jess couldn't stop thinking about the guy she'd met in the coffee shop, he was drop dead gorgeous, mature and everything she's always wanted but how would she find him again when she didn't even know his name?

Word count- 3.1K

Pairing- Prof!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, slight smut talk

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 13th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

Chapter 1

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again.

If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates? 

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

"Morning, you feeling any better?" Ellie was awake before me as usual, she spent hours getting ready in the morning and was now sat at her desk finishing her make up.

"I suppose, can't beat myself up forever can I?" I was more the get up and go kind of girl, I could never understand why she'd take hours getting ready just to go to class but I suppose you never know who you're going to bump into.

"No you can not. Not when there's literally thousands of guys here to take your pick of." 

"Psh!" I finally pull myself out of bed after thinking about the thought of possibly bumping into my hunk again I changed my mind about making myself a little more presentable.

"What d'ya mean psh?" Ellie turns to look at you, her mascara wand in her hand and only one eye made up, she looked ridiculous. How could you take her seriously looking like that? 

"I mean I'm not interested in these childish boys anymore El, I want a man." 

"Fuck me, you spoke to the guy for two minutes and already you're acting like you've lost the love of your life." Wow, that hurt a little.

"I didn't say I was talking about him although it would be nice. I just meant I'm sick of playing all these childish games and never knowing where I stand. Don't you get sick of being the one who always falls deeper? Getting messed about and then being the one who's left hurt?" I joined her at the desk, putting on a little mascara and eyeliner. "I want a man who knows what he wants and treats me better. Don't you?"

"Well shit, when you put it like that I can't argue with you. It would be nice, hey I wonder if Mr Aussie has a brother?" She waggles her eyebrows at me, making me laugh. "I gotta go babe, what class you got?" 

"My first Comms class this morning." I did not sound excited at the prospect because I really wasn't. I'd put it off in freshman and sophomore years but thought I better get it over and done with before my senior year.

"Oh really? I didn't know you'd taken that class. I heard a load of seniors talking the other day and apparently the Professor is drop dead gorgeous. I was thinking about taking it up too just to see what all the fuss was about." 

"Well that should make the class a lot more interesting, maybe it isn't going to be as bad as I thought."

"See, every cloud and all that. See you tonight, fancy the bar?" She shouts over her shoulder as she walks towards the door.

"Sounds good, see you later."

I looked over my outfit I'd already chosen for the day, just some jeans and a plain t-shirt and realised it wouldn't do. Not when there's the prospect of a hot Professor to impress. My wardrobe desperately needed an update, especially now I was focused on finding myself a man and not one of these easily pleased college boys, that were happy with anything as long as I showed a bit of leg and tits. I settled with some tight black jeans with a black, lace-rimmed, cami body suit and a cute little cream, cropped blazer to finish it off. It made me feel confident when I checked myself out in the mirror and if I do say so myself I looked smoking hot. I checked the time on my phone, realising I was going to be late I quickly ran the curling tongs through the ends of my long blonde hair before grabbing my bag and rushing out of the door.

In the hopes of catching the eye of this new professor I'd completely forgotten about the hottie from the coffee shop, which was probably a good thing, it's not like I'm ever going to see him again. I kind of wished I would though, especially when I was looking and feeling this great but hey, on to bigger and better prospects.

I thought that being late would mean I'd be stuck with a lame choice of desk in class but luckily the back row was practically empty and I could hide in the corner of the lecture theatre. I laughed to myself when I realised that practically all the girls were occupying the front desks, obviously they'd heard the rumours too.

I pushed my hair behind my ears and fumbled in my bag for my pen and notepad, when I glanced to the door and caught the eyes of a student I hadn't seen before. I couldn't deny how attractive he was, with his bright blue eyes and floppy hair, oh and that smile. Wow! He smiled brightly at me as he made his way to the back of the class, his eyes glinting, shining like diamonds as he ignored the whispers from the girls at the front. The whole row of desks were free so when he chose the desk right next to me, my stomach fluttered.

I kept my eyes on my notepad, doodling on the front cover so as to avoid that eye contact with him again. I could see a cheeky glint in his eyes and I'd learnt from experience what that meant, trouble. I wasn't ready to get myself back into a situation like that again.

My eyes shot to the front as I heard the room erupt into wolf whistles, the girls at the front giggling and whispering to each other, I rolled my eyes at them, how embarrassing. 

Then I realised what all the fuss was about and my heart almost stopped beating, thudding against my chest at an alarming rate. How is this even possible? How the fuck could he be a professor? Surely he's not old enough. Oh fuck.

I sank lower in my chair, willing the ground to just swallow me up or maybe if I got low enough I would escape his notice. No such luck, his eyes scanned the class and when they fell on mine, his face lit up with anger? No not anger. A hunger. His eyes scanned my body, falling over my hair and down to my cleavage. I felt hot under his gaze, was I blushing? Sweating? Oh god, I've never wished for class to be over so much in my life.

My professor was the guy I'd been shamelessly flirting with in the coffee shop. I don't understand how this could be real, I know I wanted to bump into him again but this is such a cruel twist of fate. I'd never even suspected him to be a professor, he was so damn thick and muscly. The clothes he wore were so stylish and he looked way too young to be a professor. He must be so embarrassed that he'd been flirting with a student, I definitely was embarrassed that I'd been flirting with a professor.

I was so panicked, I didn't have a clue what to do in this situation. Squirming in my seat, trying to look anywhere but at the Professor but I could feel his eyes on me as he prepared for the class to start. People were still whispering amongst themselves and I risked a glance in his direction, that made me bite on to my lip to stop myself from screeching. His eyes were still on me, subtly glancing up from the pile of paper he'd just taken out of his bag, his eyebrows furrowed as he studied me. He certainly didn't look embarrassed infact he looked downright feral and the thought of it made my pussy clench, so much so I had to cross my legs under the table.

"I guess you're obsessed with this new Professor too, huh?" The guy next to me leant across his desk to whisper and fuck me if I wasn't imagining it but he was Australian too. Like have we just suddenly had a huge delivery of hot Australian guys arrive at the University? This was just downright unfair, how was I meant to cope?

"No, what makes you say that?" Why did I ask that question? Like it wasn't obvious how much I was sweating and squirming in my seat. Luckily he didn't have time to answer when my eyes were drawn back to the professor as he stood at the front of the class with his hands casually in his pockets and cleared his throat to get our attention.

If I wasn't mistaken, now he looked angry, the muscles in his neck more prominent as he glared between me and the guy next to me.

Was he angry that my attention had been taken away from him and was on another guy? Or because we were talking when we should've been paying attention?

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." That sexy accent makes me sweat even more, nevermind the fact that his eyes keep finding their way back to me. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." His eyes meet mine again, a knowing look in them.

"G'day mate." Some idiot from the back shouted, making everyone laugh and I couldn't help but join in a little. Professor Hemsworth smiled at the joke, his eyes creasing in the corners and his smile growing wider when he looked to me and saw me giggling.

"Yeah, very original. Alright, alight, settle down now." His voice is so commanding and authoritive, it's such a turn on. "So, I haven't been here for very long and I'm still getting used to how different things are here. The weather for one." He earned a couple of laughs from people. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, he was so mesmerizing. The way his face animated as he spoke, his eyebrows raising and lips curling.

"I was going to ask you all to go easy on me but that's not going to happen is it?" He got a couple of head shakes and sympathetic looks from the girls. "No, I thought not. Well now it's my turn to torture you. I'll start alphabetically, stand up and tell everyone something about yourself." I swallowed back my fear, this is the reason I'd put off this class until now and as if it wasn't hard enough talking in front of a whole class I now had to do it in front of Professor Hemsworth too.

"Claire Abbott." Fuck. He'd started, at least my name would be one of the last ones.

"Hi I'm Claire." The tall blonde at the front stood up, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling like a child. I rolled my eyes at her and caught the Professor smirk in my direction. "I erm��� I don't know what to say?" She looks up at the Professor questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind." He replied.

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I rolled my eyes again, scoffing quietly and Professor Hemsworth had to hold in a laugh as he looked in my direction.

"Talk about predictable." The guy next to me leaned over to whisper to me again.

"Totally." I laughed back at him and when I looked back at the Professor he was glaring straight at us again, his face set sternly.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" Professor Hemsworth said sternly, everyone turned around to look at us but I barely noticed, I was too focused on the way his stern voice made my cunt flutter when he called me out.

I didn't speak for the rest of the class, although I had the urge to, just to hear the way his voice sounded when he was angry. I couldn't concentrate on what the other students were saying, too focused on watching the way the Professor's face changed everytime he looked my way, which was pretty often, to my suprise.

"Jake Hudson." In my peripheral, I saw the guy next to me stand and when he did, Professor Hemsworth's eyes narrowed.

"Hi I'm Jake." He pushed his hands in to his pockets cooly, glancing at me as he did. "I'm also from Australia." He looked at the professor slyly, a smirk forming on his lips, laughing at the other students shouting G'day mate. "I was forced to move here but I'm glad I did because I've just met the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." The class burst into rounds of whistles and cheers as Jake sat down, smiling at me cockily. I could feel my cheeks blushing, I was flattered, he was absolutely gorgeous but hadn't I sworn of boys my own age?

Professor Hemsworth looked even more angry now as he loosened his tie a little, that black tie that draws my view down, like a arrow pointing straight to his cock. I tried to keep my eyes down on my desk, doodling in my notebook so I could avoid that hungry gaze, anxiously waiting for my turn. What the hell was I going to say?

"Jessica Watson." Shit. I stood slowly, trying to give myself more time to think, I couldn't stand everyone's eyes being on me especially the Professors and Jakes.

"Hey, I'm Jessica." I smiled nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." I looked away from the chalk board so I could search Professor Hemsworth's face. "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." I sat down keeping the gaze of the professor, I'd forgotten I was in a room full of people until I heard the ooh's and ahh's and my cheeks turned scarlet. The Professor's eyes glowed with heat as he watched me sit down before shaking his head and turning back to the class. Jake also caught my eye as I sat back at my desk, my cheeks still burning, he smiled at me, the kind of smile that crinkles your eyes. I felt kind of bad that he probably thought I was talking about him when in fact I was talking about our professor.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." He looked at me again. "Some of you, not so much." He raised his eyebrows at a group of guys. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." His eyes scanned me as he turned around to sit at his desk, I watched a couple of girls approach him predictably.

"Are you going to the party at our frat this weekend?" I had to reluctantly pull my eyes away from the Professor while Jake spoke, so he was a Alpha Kappa, not surprising really.

"Yeah, I think so. My roommate mentioned it."

"Oh good, I'll see you there then. Jessica." He smiled, standing from his seat.

"Jess." I corrected him. I hated being called Jessica, it was so formal.

"Well Jess, I'll see you around." He winked at me as he pulled his backpack on to his shoulder.

There were still a couple of girls taking up the Professor's attention and I wasn't sure yet whether I wanted to sneak past or wait to speak to him. I thought about it for a minute my fingertips drumming against my desk when the girls left and he was alone. As soon as the door closed, his gaze was on me and I could hear the silence in the room like a ringing in my ears. We stayed like that for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, no one saying a word until her cleared his throat. I blinked a couple of times, realising how stupid I must look before getting up from my seat and packing my things away.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I could hear amusement in his voice as he sat back on his desk casually, his arms folded across his chest.

"I erm…" I walked towards him, my legs feeling like jelly all of sudden and trying not to fall down the stairs. "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I didn't know what to do with myself but I was nervous about getting closer to him. He made the atmosphere feel tense, like if I was to reach out and touch him I would burn my fingers so I stood awkwardly at the bottom of the steps.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" He cocked his eyebrow at me, still looking amused as he watched me squirm. When he said he'd been hoping to bump into me again it made me feel more confident, like I wasn't imagining the way he'd been looking at me for the last hour.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." I smiled at him as I finally closed the distance between us, watching his eyes flare with hunger when I called him Professor.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" His eyes narrowed, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as I got close enough to touch him, I didn't though. I didn't dare break that boundary, not yet.

I smiled at him through my lashes, biting on to my lip. "I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." Wow! I was not expecting that, did I sound like a slut? Shit. I looked back up at him and caught him gulp, that hunger in his eyes shining, his pupils blown with lust, he loosened his tie even more and I caught a glimpse of his smooth chest and chickened out. The tension was way too much and I was about to do something I was going to regret, I could live with being a huge tease instead.

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" I smiled to myself when I noticed the muscles in his jaw tense as he ground his teeth together. Turning to leave I looked back over my shoulder and his eyes were glued to my hips, watching them sway as I walked and I realised I had him exactly where I wanted him but was it worth the risk?

[katsukikitten]

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

CHAPTER FIVE ━ INTUITION

» pairing: shigaraki tomura x fem!reader

» story summary: working as a waitress in a villain bar means you meet all sorts of shady people. But when a random encounter piques your interest in a nameless stranger, a casual hookup turns into more than you bargained for.

» chapter cw: brief mentions of oral sex and sex toys. 18+, minors DNI.

» tag: @awkward-confused @chaos-night​ @potatoes-is-are-food​

» read the full chapter on ao3

[ Excerpt ] 

When you reach the bar, you don't bother walking around the building to the employee entrance in the alley. Instead, you enter through the front—a nondescript door with peeling green paint next to a blacked-out display window, neither of which give any indication the building is a drinking establishment. You're fairly certain it isn't licensed as one either, not when basically nothing about the place suggests legitimacy. Even the hiring process had been atypically casual, a brief meeting and a handshake after your boss's brother-in-law—a man who could only somewhat inaccurately be described as a friend of the family—had referred you for the job. You'd never filled out any employment paperwork.

The employees all get paid in cash, too—no checks, just a neat bundle of bills doled out once a month. That lack of a paper trail partly explains why your boss, a gruff older man named Tsuji, is sitting in a booth near the front when you enter, surrounded by small piles of yen notes. He always insists on working this way, set up in the main bar area before the place is technically open for business, while the cramped office in the back goes mostly unused.

There's a cigarette dangling from his thick lips, and a ledger spread open before him as he counts out money and scribbles down figures, squinting in the dim yellow light and occasionally pausing to ash straight onto the scuffed hardwood floor. It doesn't matter much; the floors are already sticky and stained, and the whole place constantly reeks of smoke no matter what. It is a dive, through and through.

Tsuji barely glances up when you approach. "Still hanging around here, huh?" he grunts, sliding a stack of bills towards you. He's almost never present during the bar's operating hours, the general system being that whoever has seniority gets tasked with opening and locking up at the end of the night. As a consequence, you barely see the man; he either trusts his employees a great deal, or is largely unconcerned with the idea of getting ripped off.

You take the money, thumbing through it carefully because you aren't quite so trusting. Your Quirk would make it easy to tell if the amount is wrong, but you'd also rather let that vigilance be obvious, lest he get any ideas about trying to short you.

"Can't give this up" you respond as you count. "Where could I find another job that pays so little?"

He lets out a chuckle that turns into a phlegmy cough, pounding one fist against his chest until it finally settles. "Funny, kid."

You roll your eyes at the nickname, one that's persisted since you first started working there as a barely-eighteen-year-old, abruptly on your own and struggling to navigate that strange interstitial space between being too old for state support and too young to know how the hell to cope. Lucky might not be the right word to describe finding this gig when you did—in the absence of any worse options, you might have been tempted to use your Quirk to pursue more lucrative things—but you're grateful that you landed here all the same.

And, reminiscences aside, you suppose you can see why the 'kid' label stuck. Besides Shigeo, there's only a part-time waitress and two bartenders, the youngest of whom is a very weathered forty.

"No complaints?" Tsuji asks when you finally finish counting, folding up that stack of bills and stuffing it in your front pocket.

"Not this time."

"Good," he grunts. "Guess that means I'll be seeing you again next month."

"Probably." The uncertainty is entirely feigned. You like the job, mostly—like your coworkers and the autonomy that comes with an indifferent boss. You even enjoy the customers who are, while certainly not the easiest crowd to manage, at least interesting. Because of all that, you've never seriously considered looking for other work, even if the salary is about as low as it gets.

Besides, the pay doesn't matter much in the end, not for you. You have other ways of making money.

Keep reading on AO3

[blubberingmess]

[Crazy]

Pairings: dark!Bucky x dark!reader

Summary: they say that when a person is in love, they would do anything for the person they're in love with. They're not wrong.

Warnings: mention of death, crazy couple, implied smut.

Note: I'm still a bit hazy and tired from the medicines so excuse my writing~

You sneered, stalking closer to the unconscious woman on the couch with a wine glass filled with water in your hand and a gun in the other. Her face makes your blood boil, wanting to just aim your gun and shoot her straight in the face but then she won't feel it - that's not fun.

Why are you so angry to this poor woman? She's no poor woman, she's a slut; going around and feeling up your man! No one does that-- no one does that and make it out alive.

Getting impatient, you dump the water onto her head before smashing it on her as well. She jolts up from her slumber, sputtering curses and incoherent words, only stopping when she finally noticed you standing in front of her with a dark aura around you.

"Good evening," you greeted monotonously. She looked up at you with wide eyes and started to shake as soon as she saw the gun in your hand.

"What are you doing? Please don't hurt me."

You rolled your eyes. "Chill, I ain't gonna do anything yet. I just want to talk to you for a second and I'll be on my way."

She gulped, already feeling the blood losing from her face as tears began to fall down pathetically. Yet? So that mean you are going to kill her?

You took her silence as a sign to continue, twirling the gun in your hand. "Why'd you kiss my man?"

"Y-your man?" She was taken aback by the question, genuinely confused as she continue, "You mean Bucky?"

You blink at her. "Yes."

Guilt flashed behind her eyes as she realized her mistake. "I-I'm sorry, I thought he's s-single. Well, that's what he told me at the p-party."

You blink again, before looking down on the wooden floor. "He did didn't he?" You whispered mostly to yourself.

Of course he would, he is single. But if he wants a relationship why'd he never came for you? You two are close and are friends, he could just ask and you'll throw yourself at him without a second thought. You're so in love with him you'll do anything, isn't that obvious?

Giving the woman in front of you a once over, your frown deepened. Is it because you're not pretty enough? That thought made your little dark heart crack inside your chest, feeling yourself deflate.

"Yes, yes he did. So please, don't hurt me."

You snapped out from your self degrading thoughts and glanced at the woman who is now has her hands clasped together as she plead for mercy. No ounce of pity can be seen on your face nor feel in your heart as you stare down at her. Deciding to end your fun early for the day, you slipped the gun back to its holster and grab your coat from the small couch behind you.

"I won't kill you." A pause. "But a friend of mine will." With that you made your way to the front door, ignoring the panic look in her eyes.

"What do you mean?!"

You're sick in the head and you know it, some people might get a hint or two but you don't care as long as they shut their mouths. You'll only care if it's Bucky, if he find out about little adventures in the dark and how unstable you really are.

You'd be heartbroken if he did, surely he won't look at you the same if he did.

You've lost your sense of morality and empathy for others the moment you saw him killed that man in front of you as the winter soldier. The look in his eyes that night still sents shivers down your spine and warmth in your core. You're too far gone that no one else matters other than him, not even those poor innocent lives.

As soon as you hopped on your bike, a loud explosion and a shrilling scream emits from within the house you were in just a few moments ago.

You smirk to yourself as your bike roars to life before driving away from the quiet neighborhood, feeling proud of yourself for not getting your hands dirty this time.

▪

You walked back inside the tower with a gloomy look on your face, still can't get over the fact that Bucky can't see you like the way you saw him - someone precious.

Sometimes, you just really need to take matters into your own hands. So you've made up your mind and started to think of a plan on how to tell him your feelings, and to make him accept that he's actually in love with you all this time; show him what he really feels. And you won't take 'no' for an answer.

The tower is conveniently empty considering most of the team are on the two week long mission just after the party. It'll be great. It'll be a dream come true.

"Morning, doll. Where were you?" A familiar voice asked and immediately, the gloom look you carry morphs into a giddy grin as your heart starts to beat fast against your chest.

In the kitchen stood Bucky, a cup of tea in his hand and a sandwich in the other while he stare at you with an odd look on his face.

He's not wearing anything but a pair of sweatpants. You gulped, realizing that it's the same dark gray sweatpants you've buried your nose into two days ago, rubbing it between your thighs until you've come undone imagining it was him instead, before sneaking back inside his room to put it back inside his drawer.

You shake your head and lifted up your hand, showing him the brown paper bag with the logo of your favorite bakery shop. "Just hang out with a friend."

His eyebrows furrowed. "A friend? That Josh guy again?" Before taking a bite of his sandwich and settling the cup on the counter next to him.

You grimace at the mention of the guy's name, placing the paper bag on the counter as well. "Josh was not my friend and he died a month ago remember? Got in a car crash just after our high school reunion the same night."

You don't really care about the guy, he'd broken hearts more than he can count - which is less than thirteen from what you recalled.

Bucky nodded his head in understatement, a neutral look on his face. "I remember, the guy's a douche, he deserved much worse."

To most people it'll probably real scary to hear such things coming out from a hero's mouth, but it made you feel the opposite. It made you look at him like he hung the moon. You bit your lip to prevent the smile from showing and coughed in you fist, pointing at the tea next to him.

"Gonna drink that?" Oh god, I hope you did.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and look at the small cup, seems to be contemplating about something as he stares at it for a good few seconds before his eyes lits up. "Want me to add some honey? It'll taste better."

You shrugged your shoulders, acting nonchantly but in the inside, you're freaking fangirling. "Sure."

Sitting yourself on top of the counter, you started to quietly hum to yourself while you let your head floats somewhere else. Did anyone found the body yet? You're kind of disappointed you're not there when it happened, must be fun killing the woman yourself instead of a small bomb.

"Here you go, darling." Your heart just skips a beat right there, feeling your whole body jolt in happiness. After Bucky gave you the cup, he silently watched you took a sip, a small dark smile playing on his lips but you're too busy thinking about the weird aftertaste of the tea to notice it.

"You sure it's honey? It taste... kinda off." You started to feel yourself getting drowsy, glaring at the half filled cup in your hands. A sudden pain was felt in your chest accidentally letting the cup go. It falsl down to the tiled floor, shattering it to pieces.

"(Y/n), are you okay?" Bucky asked with no hint of concern in his voice whatsoever, the smirk evident on his lips. He just stands there, his arms crossed over his chest as he casually leaned his hips on the counter.

You looked at him with wide eyes. "Y-You--"

Bucky cuts you off with a nonchalant shrug, giving you a boyish grin. "Saw an opportunity; had to take it."

Before you could utter anything else, your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you fall onto your back on top of the counter; unconscious.

He won't deny it, you look so good sprawled on the counter like this. Bucky sigh in disappointment, only if you're conscious and willing, he would've fuck you on the counter-- or any surface really--, show you how much he loves you; how much he cares.

But he know you don't feel the same way after observing you this past week, you've been out and about every early morning and sometimes on ungodly hour at night.

"If only you feel the same way, I wouldn't have to do this."

▪

You woke up with a pained groan, your wrist are tied up to the arms of the chair. Your head is still pounding but thankfully, the chest pain had subsided. Then you remembered Bucky, the tea, heart dropping at the memory.

"You're finally awake, I was started to get worried." You heard the voice of Bucky from somewhere in the dark room, eyes flittering around to find the source of the voice, but no avail.

"Bucky? What's going on?" You asked, a bit scared but also a small bit of hope blooming in your chest.

"I did what I had to do." Bucky watched you squirm from where he sat on a small couch in front of you, eyes going up and down your body before it focuses on your eyes.

"W-What?" You stutter out.

Here goes nothing, Bucky thought to himself, sighing. "(Y/n), you're the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my entire life. The moment I saw you after killing that old man on the rooftop as the winter soldier, I just knew I had to make you mine."

You pull your lips into a tight line as you silently listened.

"but I know you don't feel the same way so I decided to take you by force; drugged you while you're to busy thinking about some other men," he practically growls out, falling his metal fist on his lap. He heard you gasped and felt his heart clench, thinking that you're disgusted but he chose to continue, this time more possessive and controlling.

"You're mine, (Y/n), you hear me? You're fucking mine and no one else's. I don't care if you don't want me; I want you." He stands up, stalking towards your frozen body.

He huffed. "Don't try escaping or call the police, it's not use, we're far off from the nearest civilization and there's little to no signal in this area. You can't run away from me, doll. I will follow you wherever you will go. I will find you and I will never ever let you go."

Tears started to roll down your face, looking up at him with a small pout on your lips and your face flushed. "Really?"

With a cute face like that-- "Yes. There's no escaping me, doll."

"I'm so happy," you sob. Your heart is bursting at the seams at his declaration, wanting to just get pull from the restraints and hug him tightly.

Bucky took a double take, stopping in his tracks. Truth to be told, he expected you to scream bloody murder - feel afraid, although he doesn't like that one bit, it's the most... appropriate thing to feel at this moment even for him.

"What?" He clap his hands together two times and the lights suddenly turns on, blinding you for a second before resume on crying in happiness.

"I-- you were -- Bucky!" You started to hiccup, blubbering out incoherent words.

Bucky started to panic, running over towards you and gently cupping your cheeks with his large palms. "Hey-hey, baby, shh. I'm here, don't cry. What's wrong?"

Worry flashing in his eyes as he tugs on the restraints, it's not even that tight in the first place but he can't just untie you. You could attack him any moment, he needs to know if he could trust you first - but oh how he aches to tear the ropes away and cuddle you close until you calm down.

You started to calm down, leaning in to his touch. "Y-You love me?" You asked, sounding so hopeful and soft.

He cooed, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. "Oh honey, of course I do. I wouldn't do all this if I don't."

It's true, he wouldn't have bought a house in the middle of a forest if he didn't love you and want you all by himself. He wouldn't have killed Josh and the two others if he didn't. He wouldn't have been thinking about you 24/7, planning -- daydreaming-- on showing you how much you meant to him. He wouldn't have put the chip in your arm to know where you are and what are you doing. It's all for love.

"I love you too."

Wait-- "What?" He asked, dumbfounded before burrowing his eyebrows. He knows how you're good at acting, he saw how you manipulated the enemy agents that one mission, for all he know you're doing it to him right now. "I don't like being lied to, (Y/n)."

You widen your eyes. "I'm not lying, Bucky. I have been for years now."

He growls, not liking the way he just wants to give in and pull you closer against him this instance. "What about those men? You going out in the middle of the night or waking up at ungodly hour just to "buy some snacks"."

Bucky felt his blood started to boil. How dare try this shit to him?

You shyly look to the side. "There's no other men... I went to--" you trailed off with a quiet voice that even the super soldier in front of you can't hear.

"Speak up, (Y/n)," he orders, gently yet firmly tilting your chin up to look at him in the eyes.

You sighed. "I hate it when you flirt back with other women."

"What does it have to do with you going out in the middle of the night?"

"I'm... a murderer, Bucky. I know it's bad and the world sees me as a hero but I can't help it, they're taking you away from me," you hissed out. "So I killed them all before they could even attempt a second chance, because you are meant for me, Bucky."

Bucky's breath hitched at the venom in your voice as you admit on killing the women that tries to flirt with him, all of it just because you're jealous - and startlingly, he loves every second of it.

"I was about to do the same. I was planning on taking you away while you're sleeping but you beat me to it." You chuckled, tears already dried up as you gestured towards your bound wrists.

His eyes flickered to your wrist then back up to your eyes. "Why?" He still asked despite knowing what the answer is, he just wants to hear it coming from your kissable lips that he loves so much; wanting to know the taste of.

You gave him a genuine smile. "Because I love you and if I can't have you, no one can."

Bucky swings his eyes between yours, searching for any signs of deception and trickery but all he found was sincerity and love. You're looking at him like he's the only person in the whole world, and it's making him melt at the spot. Never once had someone look at him like that and he doubt he don't look the same.

"I love you too," Bucky breathes out before smashing his lips against yours. You moaned and was about to lift up your hands to tug on his hair but was stopped by the ropes, preventing you from doing so.

"Bucky?"

"Yes, baby?" He murmurs, pressing heated kisses on your jaw and down to your neck. You mewled when he softly bit that soft spot on your neck, craning your head to the side to give him more access.

"The ropes, please. I want to touch you."

You let out a small whine when he stops, leaning back to look down on the ropes before smirking, shaking his head from side to side. An side suddenly popped in his mind.

"Not yet, baby girl."

He stands up straight with his hands propped on his hips, his crotch at your eye level. You could see the prominent bulge in his pants and can't help but lick your lips. The action didn't go unnoticed by the former winter soldier making his smirk broadens.

"Can you be a good girl for me, (Y/n)?"

You peered up at him through your lashes and said in the most sultry of voices, pulling a groan from Bucky's lips.

"Yes, Daddy."

Yup, I need to rest.

*more to come*

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 17 Part 19

Part 18

It was a crazy week, and by Wednesday, I had had enough and wanted it to be all over. It was the last day of school for the term. The kids were rowdy, and it was hard for them to concentrate. I gave up structured lessons after the morning session, and we did Easter craft. Still, even craft was hard for my kids. Most of them can't use scissors without assistance or had to use modified ones set into a wooden block. It wasn't a bludge, but it was much less stressful for both the kids and myself.

I had playground duty at lunchtime. Some of the older mainstream kids had heard about Liam, and a few would walk past me and sing the theme song to his superhero movies. Others would have a conversation with me and sneak in a movie quote. Lucky for me, most of Liam's films weren't appropriate for children, so there were only a few they could use. The kids would run away giggling, and I would shake my head. I wasn't upset by it, kids are kids, and at least they made their fun to my face.

The parents were awful. The mums would go quiet when I was near them, and I would hear laughter or whispering as I walked away. The dads looked at me just that little bit longer, making me feel uncomfortable. I just tried to remember Liam's arms around me, the way he made me feel safe in his arms. I found myself touching my earrings a lot. They soothed me.

The worst part was the other staff. Not all of them, just a couple of the younger ones and newer ones. Their eyes seemed to bore into me in the staff room and in meetings. The ones who had been here when Andy died were good. They appeared to be on the same page as Marla had been. The rest of the support class teachers and TA's were kind. They actually asked me to my face about it, seemed happy for me, and then that was it they moved on.

My boss, Michael, did call me into his office on Monday afternoon. He was good about it mostly, just concerned because apparently, the office staff had received a few phone calls from a couple of media outlets trying to get in contact with me. The staff were good enough to hang up on them. I was honest with Michael and said I didn't know what my plans were, just that we were dating. I did tell him about how it would be official on Thursday, but it worked out well because the office would be empty for two weeks, and by then, I'll be old news.

When I spoke to Liam on the phone, I had told him about how I was feeling. I was honest about it as much as I could be.

Liam was empathetic and seemed sincere when he said I didn't have to go. "If it's too much, we can wait for another time. The dress you have will be as good in a few months as it is now. Or we can return it all and try again later." Cheekily he said, "I'll let you keep the earrings."

I declined. I wanted to get it over with. I figured the quicker it was done, the quicker no one would care, and I can go back into hiding. It was like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

When I had gotten home from work on Tuesday, I had decided to do the hardest thing of all. I called Andy's mother.

Anthea was born in Greece and immigrated to Australia with her family in her early teens. She had met Andy's dad, Tim, a white Australian with Irish heritage, and they had a beautiful marriage. They had five children, three boys and two girls. Andy was the youngest son and was the unofficial favourite. She had always been lovely to me. She always called me Little Lana and would always hug me and insist I ate. On my birthday, she would make me galaktoboureko. She still calls me for my birthday and invites me over for Orthodox Easter and Christmas. I don't go, but I always make sure to call and send presents for my two godchildren.

"My Little Lana," Anthea gushed. "It is so good to hear from you. How are you going? Tim, Lana is on the phone! He will be so happy you called. Yes, Timothy, it's Lana. Yes, Tim says g'day. How are you? We miss you. How is work? How are your precious children? You do such good work, Little Lana."

Did I mention she talks a lot? She was one of those people who seemed to speak without having to take a breath.

"Hi Anthea, I'm doing well. Work is great, really good. I have a great bunch this year."

"Yes, you sound happy, Little Lana. Your new boyfriend must have something to do with it? He is very handsome. Not as handsome as Kamari mou but handsome. I showed all my friends, and they tell me you are still so beautiful and your hair is still so pretty and long. So long now. You've grown it."

I was stunned. I tried to talk, but the lump in my throat was so big, I couldn't swallow. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a huge sob, and I broke down.

"I'm sorry, Anthea, I am so sorry."

"Why are you crying? Stop it. Alana, why would I be upset? Why are you crying? Don't cry, silly girl. You should be happy. I do not expect you to be wearing black, like an old lady from my old country, for the rest of your life. I know you loved my son. but you're too young to grieve forever."

"I wanted to call you and tell you, but it happened so fast." I was still crying, but it wasn't so bad now. Anthea had comforted me in a way that I hadn't even known I needed. That she still loved me when I had started dating another man was incredible to me.

"You shhh, Little Lana. Listen to me. You have obviously called me for permission whether you know that's what you were doing or not. You have it, my blessing. Kamari mou wanted you to be happy also. He would not want you to be alone forever. You know this. Go speak to him, speak to Andy, and you will know."

"Thank you, Anthea."

"There now, Little Lana, you will be ok. Now no more speaking of sadness. I must tell you all the wonderful news. You will be an Aunty again soon."

Anthea talked to me for a little over an hour. Talking to Anthea was being talked at, but I needed it. I promised to call her again soon. She, of course, invited me to Easter but didn't expect a reply.

I felt lighter after talking to her. She was right. I had needed to know from her that she was ok with it. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been. I don't think I would have ended it with Liam. I think I was in too deep, but it would have been much harder to go on.

Anthea was right about something else too. I needed to talk to Andy.

So after school on Wednesday, I drove to the cemetery. I went and saw my Dad first. I didn't have much to say to him. I just sat there and let the memories come to me.

I remembered when I was six, and he shaved his moustache off, and I hadn't recognised him. I had run screaming to my Mum that there was a stranger in the house. I remembered how he would take us to see the fireworks on New Year's Eve, getting there early to get good spots and watch in awe as the fireworks exploded over Sydney Harbour. Nothing was as breathtaking as my home city on New Year's Eve. I thought about how he loved David Bowie, and he had even convinced my mother to name my brother after him. Dave and I had taken Dad to see David Bowie a few years before he passed away, and it was one of the most incredible nights of my life. The Labyrinth is still my favourite kid's movie, and Jareth was my first crush. He looked so good in those tights.

I went to see Andy. I don't see him very often. I go on Boxing Day, his birthday and our anniversary. As had become my ritual on those visits, I had his old phone and listened to his playlist. I laid down on the grass next to him and looked up at the sky. After a while, I started talking.

"Hey Butthead," I started, smiling as I said our private nickname. "I've got some things to tell you. First of all, I miss you. But surely you know that. And I know you know I will always love you. You were such a beacon in my life. A light for me when everything else was dark. I was like a moth to your flame. You drew me in, making me want to be close to you. You always made me feel like everything would be ok if I just stayed in your light. Things were so dark when you were taken from me. For so long, I felt nothing. Everything was dark.

"But then I started feeling better. I still missed you every day, but I wanted to find that again. Feel that love and safety again. I started dating about six months ago. Online mostly, you know, how the kids do it these days. I went on a few dates but felt nothing. Or if I did feel something, I felt like they weren't as good as you. Why would I settle for anyone who wasn't as good as you?

"I don't mean the same as you. I mean someone who moves me the way you did. Someone who showed me kindness like you did, someone who made me laugh, made me feel giddy. Someone I was attracted to. But also someone I wanted to do things for, someone who I wanted to go out of my way for, not because they forced me, but because I wanted to because I knew they would do it for me.

"I was about to give up. I only tried dating for a few months, but it felt so futile that I didn't care anymore. Then this guy started messaging me. He was sweet and funny, a Pom, but don't hold that against him. Anyway, I liked him instantly. It scared the shit out of me. I made him wait three months before I agreed to meet him. I was so scared because I knew I could fall for him.

"And when I met him, the sparks were there. It was instant. He was all the things I wanted. He's not like you. You're both very different. I mean, he doesn't like Mad Max for God's sake. But he makes me feel the way you made me feel. And Andy, I am falling for him."

*********************

"Lana, hold still." Jen was pulling my hair. I looked over at Riza, who was covering her mouth with a magazine. Her shaking shoulders gave her away, though, and I could see she was laughing her arse off. "I only have a couple more to do, and then you can go home and sleep."

I was at Riza's place. I had to see Jen after I spoke to Andy. Jen wanted to put my hair in pin curls. She had washed my hair and then got started pinning small sections of my already curly hair into curls.

I thought it was weird, but she said the hair has to be curled in the right direction for the style to work. She also said that the longer the curls were in, the better the result. That's why I was at her place, getting my hair done 24 hours before the event. How do celebrities live like this?

"How the hell am I going to sleep in this?" Riza's dropped all pretence and was laughing openly at me now. "Get bent, Riza."

"Hey! You're the one who looks like a 1950's housewife right now."

"1940's babe," Jen admonished. "Get it right."

When she finished, she wrapped my hair in a silk scarf. "Did you buy me an apron to go with the barefoot in the kitchen look?" I asked.

Jen laughed. She knew me well enough to know it was a joke. "Trust me. You're gonna love it."

"So when do I take the clips out?" I asked Jen.

"Not until I do your hair."

My eyes bulged. "I'm going to Liam's place hours before you're going to get there."

Riza pissed herself laughing, and Jen just said, "trust me."

When I got in bed, I rang Liam. I Facetimed him. Maybe if he laughs at me now, he won't laugh at me when I'm there, which would break my heart. His reaction surprised me.

"Why are you wearing a scarf? Please tell me you didn't dye your hair." He looked devastated.

"And what if I did?" I asked.

"You would still be you. It wouldn't change anything." He sputtered.

"Nice save," I laughed.

"I think being a redhead suits you. It makes you a little different."

I told Liam it was to protect the pin curls so they don't frizz. "You don't have to worry about me dying my hair until I start going white. I've never died my hair. It's my natural colour."

Liam's lip twitched. "I've noticed." He said.

I could have died.

On Thursday morning, I skipped the gym for obvious reasons, showered carefully so as not to wet my hair and started to get ready. I packed my bag and packed a bag for Perrin with his bed, crate, and food. I did a quick run through the shops to the dressmaker to pick the dress up from the dressmaker and to buy underwear for the dress. I didn't need a bra, but I wasn't going without underpants.

In the morning, I pottered, waiting for lunchtime to arrive and for Liam to finish his half-day at work. I was so jittery I had dropped my coffee this morning, and the mug had smashed. Not having anything to do and waiting for hours made it all worse. I had to do something, so I painted my nails and watched Kill Bill Vol. 1.

The story took me over, and soon I was transported with the action and exceptional dialogue. I decided the only person who could convince me to be an actor would be Quentin. I even went and got out my "Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino" hoodie for added comfort. When it was over, I did feel a little better and whistling the song from the movie, I got Perrin and went to Liam's.

By the time I got to Liam's house, the nerves had come back. I found it hard to concentrate and almost just walked Perrin into the backyard. I sighed and put Perrin on his leash and texted Liam that I was here, and walked to the park with Perrin. We had planned a way to introduce the dogs during the week. The snag was I had agreed to it before I knew about the hair situation. But I found an old bucket hat of Andy's that fit and hid most of my head. I still felt ridiculous, but at least the hat somewhat normal.

When I saw Liam, my heart leapt. I wanted to run to him, have him hold me, soothe away all the pain of the last week and fear of tonight. But we had to introduce the dogs first.

We walked to each other as Perrin and Cole had a little sniff of each other. There was no immediate dislike.

"Hello, Sweetheart." His voice took my breath away.

"Hi," I said.

"Cute hat."

"Arse." I was smiling, though.

"I've missed you," he smiled broadly.

I gave him a small smile.

Liam farrowed his eyebrows. "These two look like they are ok," he said. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

I nodded, and Liam leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we started to walk. We went side by side, keeping the dogs apart. Liam put his arm around my shoulder.

"You're very quiet this afternoon," he said after a few minutes.

"I'm nervous."

"About the dogs or tonight?" He asked. "Or something else?"

"Tonight." I felt like a petulant child with all these short remarks, but I couldn't give him anymore just yet. I let my head rest on his shoulder to try to let him know he wasn't the reason I was acting distant.

Liam squeezed me. "You'll be ok. You're going to be dressed beautifully and appropriately. No one is going to laugh at you. You'll see. Myra and Boyd are all excited to meet you. This is Myra's boyfriends first red carpet, too, so you won't be the only virgin." He paused and chuckled. "Although, I had better keep you two apart. He's a sparky? I think that's the word. I don't want him stealing you away from me. I know how much you love tradies."

I laughed. Liam had said all the right things in a few moments, and I felt calm again. At least calm enough that I can have a conversation. "Thanks, Liam," I said and kissed his cheek.

We walked for about half an hour. The dogs walked together for a bit. Perrin, being so old, was pretty laid back about the whole thing and Cole, while curious, just seemed happy to be making a new friend.

When we got back to Liam's house, we let them leashes off, and Perrin had a sniff around the yard. Cole either followed behind him or bounced around in front of him as if he were saying, "come look at this place over here."

While Perrin explored, Liam stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes a moment, listening to the sounds of the city.

"You're such a good hugger," I told Liam as I turned around in his arms and put my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his shirt, seeking his warmth and familiar scent.

"A compliment. From you? With no sarcasm?" Liam teased. "It must be my lucky day."

"Just shut up and kiss me," I said, and I lifted my head to meet his. Our kisses were soft at first, but they became more than that very quickly.

Liam pulled away and said, "we aren't alone. Ryan is here." Liam suggested that Ryan stay with the dogs while we were out. He would be back on Sunday and Monday, too, to take Cole for a walk and play.

I sighed. "Riza will be here soon anyway. We better get these guys inside and settled."

We took the dogs inside and got them set up. Then and I met Ryan, who was working in Liam's study. I don't know what I expected from Ryan, but a Scottish Hercules was not it. He was at least as large as Liam, had dark hair and green eyes and although he paled in comparison to Liam, he was handsome and instantly likeable.

We shook hands, and he said, "it's nice to meet you, Lana. I've heard a lot about you, so it's nice to put a face to the name." His accent was noticeable but not thick, and he spoke with a confident calmness that must be essential in his job. He doesn't mention or look at my scarf, which is a relief. I smiled and said, "Same. I keep hearing all these names, so it's nice to meet finally."

Liam gets me to put Ryans number in my phone. He said I should call Ryan if I need to contact him if he's not reachable while filming. I look at Ryan, and he nods as he says, "it's my job."

I do it, but I roll my eyes. He's not my assistant.

We let Ryan get back to work, and we go out to my car to bring my stuff in. By the time I've set up Perrin's things and sorted out my put my bags away, Riza and Jen arrive.

Liam opened the door for them, and Riza stood stunned for a moment. "Damn, you're built like a brick shithouse." Riza was very petite, half a head shorter than me, so you'd think she'd be used to everyone being bigger than her.

Liam, bless his cotton socks, laughed and put his hand out. "You must be Riza."

Riza took his hand, "yeah, mate, how's it going?" Liam stood aside to let her come in. She was hauling a massive makeup case, and Liam offered to take it for her. I thought she would bristle at his offer, but instead, she just gave it to him.

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, indicating my surprise. She just shrugged and gave me a strange look, and looked straight back at him. Riza is a pocket rocket type and prefers to be seen as one of the boys a lot of times. Andy even invited her to his bucks weekend despite her being my maid of honour, so the whole interaction was unusual.

Jen came in and introduced herself to Liam, and it was a much more civilised exchange than Riza's.

I gave them both hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Thanks for doing this, Jen and you too, Riza."

"No worries," Riza said.

Liam offered them both some wine and looked at me to see if I wanted one. I agreed, and we all sat in the lounge room.

Riza grabbed my hand when Liam had his back turned, "Sorry Lans, I think I got star struck. I'm a fucking dickhead."

Jen and I laughed at her, and I said, "serves you right for taking the piss out of me last night."

Liam came back with glasses and a bottle of white wine and poured us all a drink before taking a seat next to me. He sat next to me, resting his arm on the lounge behind me and put his ankle on his knee. His foot bounced, and I looked at him, and it struck me that he was anxious.

I put my hand on his foot to soothe him and turned to Riza and said, "did I tell you that Liam planned a trip to Mt Hotham this winter? I think it was June? Queens Birthday weekend? Before your Mum comes. Anyway, Riza, you spent a few winters there. Got any ideas for some good runs?"

That was it, the two of them talked about skiing, and the tension in the air lifted. I even swapped seats with Riza and sat with Jen for a bit. Once I could tell Liam and Riza were comfortable with each other, I asked Liam where Jen could set up.

Liam said to go to the master on the third, and he went to get up to take us there. I told him Jen, and I could be fine, and he smiled at me and kept talking to Riza. Jen and I smiled at each other and went up to get ready.

Part 19

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 13 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.7 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

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{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Change Of Heart

“You and Daniel were in a relationship that ended sometime before we met,” Keanu says, gathering his stuff as you do the same, both starting to take the baggage to the living room. “He is Mrs. Davis' son, and I guess she didn't like much when you two broke apart.”

“And where is this Daniel now? I'd like to meet him if he's part of my past.” You stop by the door, as Keanu checks on his phone for the car he just called.

But he puts his phone away, eyes on you. “Daniel passed away a week before your accident.”

“Oh...” You whisper, looking down. “So that's why Lucia got so sad when I said we weren't considering the name.”

“Yeah.”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his weird expression, you step forward and tiptoe, placing a kiss on his lips. “Let's go home, babe.”

•••

Going back home happened without any incidents. But the next days were filled with medical appointments. You assure him you're fine, but Keanu seems to be in an urge to make sure you're completely fine. You try not to complain about it, but things get weird when you notice a strange expression on his face. For too many times to count you caught him looking like he was just about to say something, but for some reason, he gives up. It makes you confront him a couple of times, but he assures you he's just worried as the pregnancy goes on.

Some weeks go by, and you're getting impatient to find out the baby's sex. On your many ultrasounds, they're always on a position that makes it impossible to see it. But you're hopeful for today, and, as you lie on the bed with Keanu, your back against his chest, you take in the soft morning light.

Keanu has an arm around her waist, a hand caressing her belly. Her bare back keeps his body warm, and despite the constant feeling that time is running short, he places kisses on her neck.

He was supposed to tell her the truth weeks ago, the moment they got back from Miami, but he just couldn't. This went too far, he went too far. In every possible aspect. Keanu didn't only fell for her, but he was intimate with (Y/N) too many times to count, and that makes him feel more guilt than anything else.

Her second trimester is just about to end, and now, he's caught in between. Again, for the millionth time, Keanu is caught in between two feelings. His love and his morals.

In his defense, Keanu did try to break the news several times. The words, the destructive, dangerous words were at the tip of his tongue, ready to desolate his life. But they got stuck, and he was too weak at the thought of losing her. Of losing the baby that he loves so much. It doesn't matter how many times he reminds himself the kid isn't his, he's failing to get this fact to grow roots in his heart. Keanu loves the child as if it's his own.

Guilt threatens to devour him entirely sometimes, but right now, in this moment, happiness suppresses everything else. This is his personal paradise, with her, the baby, healthily growing inside her.

Keanu always wanted a family. Settle down, take less and smaller roles. But nobody ever made him feel like he could. Of all the women he dated, nobody ever made him feel like he would give up everything. He thought he knew what love was, and he thought it wasn't as strong as people say... But now, life proved him wrong. This is love, a wrecking ball that came and destroyed his walls, his heart, his wrong perceptions. If only it happened some other way. If he wasn't caught up in this web of lies.

Dr. Harris wasn't happy to know he was sleeping with her. (Y/N) told her, of course, and even though it was in her usual shy and reserved way, the psychologist got the meaning behind the words. And she confronted him, very harshly, and Keanu could do nothing but listen and agree. Because this is wrong. This is the worst kind of betrayal.

(Y/N) moves a little, breathing deeply as she wakes up. A hand finds his, pulling it to her chest, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. “Morning.” She whispers, voice still clouded by sleep. She's used to it now, Keanu is always awake first.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He replies, fingers caressing her chin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, but I miss lying on my stomach.” She complains, turning around and snuggling into his chest. “What time is it? We have an ultrasound.”

“I know. And we should probably start getting ready.”

“Alright.” (Y/N) mutters, but doesn't give any signs she'll move anytime soon.

But he knows what today is all about, and it will certainly make her excited. “Hopefully we'll finally find out if this little one is Sophie or Liam.”

“Yes!” Immediately, she pushes herself up, an arm sustaining her weight as she looks down at Keanu. And he tries not to stare at her nude figure, even though this is silly compared to everything they're done. Still, he thinks he should at least try. “The baby must be in a good position today. I can't wait anymore.” With that, she's up, smiling as she makes her way to the bathroom.

And Keanu is left behind on the bed, surrounded by his bad decisions. Maybe this is the right time. Maybe, being this happy, she won't hate him so much.

With a lump in his throat, he goes on with his routine, until they're almost ready to go. Keanu waits by the bedroom door frame as she fixes her hair, the bathroom door half open. This is way too sudden, but if he doesn't do that now, if he waits any longer, he'll never be ready. He'll never be brave or strong enough to do this. He took too long already. Now, he can only hope, pray, that this will somehow end up the way he wants.

That he won't lose her.

The moment he sees (Y/N) walking out of the bathroom, Keanu gives a step forward, arms crossed, heart beating so fast it threatens to jump off his chest. The words are at the top of his tongue when his eyes take in her posture. (Y/N) holds the skirt of her blue dress up, all the way to the top of her thigh with one hand, and on the other, there's blood. Bright and red, staining her fingers and the palm of her hand. His eyes turn to her face, blank, scared as she looks at him.

Without thinking too much, his mind on the verge of collapsing, he forces himself to move, quickly making his way over her.

You hate the smell of the soap they have here. You hate this hospital and what it means when you're brought here. It's only far worse now. You're still trying not to burst into tears, trying not to break down again. There's no pain, so that's good. And no more bleeding, which is even better. The feeling you got when you found blood on your underwear was the worst thing in the world. For a moment, a desperate moment, you thought you were going to lose the baby. You wanted to yell, but you didn't have it in you.

If it wasn't for Keanu, you don't know what you'd do.

Now, still walking terribly slow out of nervousness, you leave the hospital bathroom, finding Keanu seated on the edge of your bed, already looking at you.

“Hi, beautiful.” He says, and you remember this was one of the first things he said to you. “Come and lie down. Why did you put the dress on again?”

“Because it's clean and I don't want to stay here.” Instead of doing as he said, you stand before him, your forehead on his chest. “I thought I was going to lose our baby.” Your voice cracks as some tears roll down, arms around his midsection.

“I already spoke to the doctor.” Immediately, you pull away, just enough to look into his eyes. “He assured me you're both alright.”

“Are you sure, Ke?” You plead, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I almost lost my mind.”

“He wants you to rest and that's all. He–” He's cut short by the door being open, and you see Dr. Wright and your obstetrician.

“First of all, you must know the baby is alright.” Dr. Williams says as she comes closer, a tablet on her hands. “Sometimes, such discharges happen, mostly as you progress from the second to the third trimester.” She kindly smiles. “Everything you two need to do is keep up the good job. Make sure to rest, eat healthily, and exercise. But I'll recommend you to lie down for the rest of the day, ok?”

“Ok.” You quickly agree.

“It would be good to avoid surprises. The bad ones at least.” Dr. Wright adds, oddly staring at Keanu. But that's normal, he still needs to look after you, so some things are directed to him. “But we have good news today, right, Dr. Williams?”

“Yes.” From under the tablet, she takes a picture from the ultrasound and hands over to you. “The baby was in a good position and we already know the sex.”

“Oh my God.” You exclaim, smiling for the first time since the incident. “What is it?”

Dr. Williams smiles, exchanging a glance with Dr. Wright. “Mr. and Mrs. Reeves, you'll be having a baby boy.”

“It's Liam!” You yell, throwing your arms around Keanu again. “I was right!”

“You were right.” He agrees, a second before you kiss him, not minding the audience.

“Well, you're free to go home. And call me if you need anything.” Dr. Wright says and the obstetrician agrees before they both leave.

At least something good happened today. You'll finally be able to paint the blank white walls of the baby's bedroom, and buy what you still need.

“I was right.” You repeat, smirking at Keanu. “But we can try again and maybe it'll be a girl. I mean, if we ever spoke about having more than one kid.” Blushing a little, you bite your lip. There are still a lot of things you need to be updated on, and you still get a little sad when it happens.

“I'd love to have more kids if that's what you want, sweetheart,” Keanu says and you smile, kissing him again. “But now let's go home. You need to lie down for the day.”

“Can we stop and buy the paint for Liam's room? We already know the color so it'll only take a minute.” You know you have to rest, but you can't help but feel excited for finally being able to finish off the baby's bedroom. “Please? I'll stay in the car.”

Keanu gives you a look because sometimes you don't always do as you said you would. “Fine, but you won't be painting anything. I can do it myself.”

Nodding, you watch as he takes your bag and guides you out of the hospital room you hate so much. Hopefully, there will be a day you won't have to keep coming here, not because of some incident and not for any appointments.

You did wait in the car this time, and as much as you wanted to hit the mall and buy everything blue and green, Keanu forces you to give up the idea and head straight home. And when you get there, you have his undivided attention. He doesn't only make an incredible lunch, and an incredible dinner, he gives your legs a massage, and it takes a lot of effort to just lie down instead of jumping on him. But this is peaceful, slow, and sweet.

In the weeks that follow, nothing bad happens. You feel great, but you also heavier. Liam is growing fast, and you can't wait any longer to meet him. And neither can Keanu. He gets even more protective with time if that's even possible. And after you almost slipped in the shower, you're not even allowed to shower by yourself. Of course you pretend you're annoyed, but the truth is that you love it.

Despite feeling uncomfortable during this period, Keanu makes everything perfect. There are still no signs you'll get the memories back, and that's a fact now, but you'll follow your psychologist's advice. And Laura's advice, since they're pretty much the same. Living in the past will only get in the way of what's happening now. You have an amazing husband, who loves you deeply, and a child on the way. The present is wonderful, and you won't let anything ruin it.

You're around week 37 now, marking it on the calendar on the fridge door, a hand on your back as you make your way to the kitchen table. Keanu is still upstairs, and you take this chance to pour some honey on your plate. You're still eating the awkward combination when he comes to the kitchen, and you try not to let him see. But Keanu sees everything, and when he takes his place across from you, you feel his eyes burning.

“What?” You innocently ask, shrugging your shoulders.

“Are you eating bacon with honey?”

Biting your lip, you raise an eyebrow at him. “I happen to love honey. And bacon. So it makes sense.” He giggles and you kick his leg under the table. “Don't mess with the pregnant lady.” Warning him, you push the plate away. “I'm done anyway. I'll move to the couch if you don't mind, my back really hurts.”

“Sure. I'll join you in a bit.”

“Ok.” Dragging yourself to the living room, you lie down, hands on your swollen belly. You're almost drifting off to sleep when you feel Keanu sitting down, lifting your legs so he can move closer, caressing your thighs. “Ke, I'm huge.” You complain, eyes on the bump.

“You're beautiful.” Bending down, he places a kiss on your exposed belly, since you have the shirt pulled up. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Pouting a little, you try to hold back the giggle when you see his eyebrow raised.

“I would love to show how beautiful I think you are, but Dr. Williams told us to give it a little break.”

“Don't even remind me.” You never complained about anything with your obstetrician, but when she told you and Keanu should probably avoid sleeping together, you had to speak up. Even though your cheeks were burning. But in the end, you did comply. And you wouldn't have much of a choice anyway, since Keanu does everything the doctors say. “I heard your phone beeping. Everything alright in Arch?”

“Yes. That was just Lucia.” He says, obviously a little annoyed. “She just moved here. She's renting an apartment not so far away.”

“What the hell.” Sighing, you roll your eyes. This woman won't leave you alone, it doesn't matter what you say. “Why is she doing that? Isn't it obvious we don't want her around?” A couple of weeks ago she showed up again, and another argument happened. Keanu had to kick her out because the recommendations were that you shouldn't be put under any kind of stress.

“She loves you and the baby. That's why she wants to be around.” You don't get it. Keanu doesn't like her either, so why does he still speak like this?

“I know you can't stand her, you don't have to fake it with me.”

“But this isn't about me, sweetheart, it's about you and the people who were in your life before.”

The kindness in his voice makes you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You're amazing, did you know that?” Placing kisses on his face, you smile. “I love you. I'm worried to death and I'm trying not to get anxious with the labor, but you're making everything perfect. You're the best husband I could ever have.”

“I'm just trying to be the husband you deserve.” With a hand caressing your cheek, Keanu kisses you full on the lips, and you take no time before kissing him back. You don't know what you'd do without him, but luckily, you won't ever have to find out.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[isimp4hawkz]

The Thief

(Hawks x Fem OC)

this is an old fic of mine, back when i first got into hawks (what have i become?) i never published it. please bear with my undeveloped writing :} and on behalf of my pre-obsessed self, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it.

-Edited slightly-

-Not 100% canon-

-Some aspects may seem far fetched-

Words: 2k

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Hawks’ POV

Recently, I've been cycling through a continuous loop of circumstances whereas every time that I'm about a millisecond away from saving someone in danger- the same, new, and hot pro hero swoops in right on the knick of time and steals my shot.

A spontaneous looker of a woman who went by the hero name Tundra. I hadn't ever heard of her before the little debut she had as of last week, as goes with most rookies. But this one was quick to gain her prominence in this city.

Do I honestly care all that much? Not really.

I think it's cool when a brand new hero who's fresh out of their side-kicking days steps up and climbs through the ranks, earning themselves a little popularity with the citizens as they answer their calls for help.

And to be frank, I've been taking it easy these days. More than I usually would. Out on the beaches during the day, and partying all throughout the night. Free time was scarce for me. I definitely won't put off having a good time while I still can.

Sure, if someone happens to be in danger on the way to the club, or down on the twisting roads that lead down to the shore, I swoop in and save the day.

The locals around here had basically memorized my name from years of service, but I was afraid that my name had become a blur in the mixture of countless other hero's.

Hell, maybe I'm just being dramatic. It's not like they could actually forget me of course. I'm the number 2 hero in all of Japan, how could you forget me?

You'd think that taking a short hiatus would gain me some sort of up in demand from the fans, but it was the exact opposite of that. I had fallen down to 4th in the approval ratings, instead of remaining proud in my little silver throne.

All because of her...and my own laziness.

And then, I decided that that was enough fun...to some extent...for now at least. It was time to head back into the city, and reclaim my throne—or, at least try to.

I settled onto the roof of my favorite building, it was the tallest one around here. If I wanted to catch a crime in progress, here would be the optimal place to start, where I had an eagle eye view of the city.

It’s funny, being up on this tower reminds me all too much of when I first met the vixen for myself.

An interesting encounter it was.

This is how it went;

I grunted when my wings had suddenly twitched with premonition midair. It was a natural reaction that occurred when something was about to happen, usually abruptly without much warning, a small shiver that pulsated through every single one of my feathers in the blink of an eye.

Instantaneously, two flashes of white sped past me in a blur of haste, followed by a gust of wind that physically made me wobble in my flight.

Ahead of me now flew someone. With a pair of wings as white as snow itself, feathers littered with black markings.

"Woah-" I uttered as I regained my balance, blinking in shock.

They were soon just a barely vivible spec in the distance.

'Huh...Well that's new. Can't remember the last time I saw another winged person besides...'

That person's name was long since lost in my memories. Last I heard, they'd transferred to another hero agency in distant city.

I'd only shrugged it off.

It was best to just continue my leisurely flight. I was in no rush, after all. I've waited this long to get back into the game, what's a few spare minutes of taking my time got on me?

The office building stood tall, barely piercing the sky. It's thin structure made it look like just the faintest breeze could make it topple.

A draft of wind blew viciously against me. It was much cooler up here, the air was naturally a bit thinner. Not that I wasn't used to it, but it had been well over a week since I'd gone here.

I exhaled peacefully as I took my perch on one of the building's edges, gazing down at the city. The sun was beginning to dip into the horizon, lighting the land with tranquil variants of orange and pink. People looked like mere ants from up here, scurrying aside toy vehicles.

The sunsets always looked so nice from here.

Most would see this as a time to be at home and prepare themselves for bed. But for a villain, it was happy hour. A time for iniquity to prosper in the shadows.

'Now then, let's see if we can find any-'

"Hey there." A voice had spoke from behind me, causing my feathers to stand on edge and bolt me into the air on instinct with one strong flap. I immediately whirled around, dumbfounded.

A woman stood before me. The pearly white pair of wings sprouting elegantly from her back and dotted with black markings taking me back to moments ago. They fluttered subtly as she studied me.

'That's strange...why didn't I sense her?'

She sported an inviting smile on her face, yet I could tell by the look in her eye that she was unsure of what to think of me. "Sorry for startling you. Come up here to wait for the stars?" She asks as she looks thoughtfully into the distant sky.

Her eyes shone a sharp grey that caught the sinking glow of the sun. The costume she wore wasn't exactly loose against her skin, ivory feathers imprinted into the fabric around her waist. Curves hugged in all the right places. Rather stunning.

'A hero?'

I must've been staring in a daze for too long, because she'd cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one leg to another in a little rocking motion.

I honestly didn't know what to think of her myself. I've never seen her before.

Mild curiosity somehow got the better of me in seconds. I'd've liked to get a bit of information off of her for my own self pleasure. A little flirtatious prodding would do the trick just fine.

"Now why would I waste my time lookin' up there when there's a much better view down here?"

She sucked in her cheek, never breaking eye contact with me as descended back down onto the platform so we were at the same level, hands dug deep in my pockets. Slapping on one of my signature lazy smirks, I continued, "So tell me, what's a beauty like yourself doin' all the way up here on this fine evening?"

My feathers had suddenly puffed up. It had startled me, but I managed to play it off with a small stretch.

That only happened whenever I wanted to give off a sense of superiority towards another individual, among other things.

She eyed my new display curiously. "Y'know, I could ask you the same—In fact I already did, actually—minus the little pick up line of course." She avoided the question, responding with a little quick-witted remark. It was hard to tell if she was hiding something, or if she's just being cautious.

"Well if you'd really like to know, I'm on duty. This is where I come to sort of survey everything."

She nodded, agreeing that that was a reasonable answer, and when I asked her about her own intentions, she responded with, "Oh, similar reasons. You're looking at a newbie trying to find her way in a foreign country, all while taking steps towards her dream of making something of herself.”

"New here huh? Excuse my manners, or lack of. Allow me to introduce myself. Wing Hero: Hawks." I gave her a curt bow, "Last time I checked, I'm still in the top 10 heroes in the country."

She gives me a strange look after taking my words into consideration. "Hawks..." The way my name rolled off her tongue as she sounded it aloud for herself made me swallow a lump. "In the top 10 you say? Never heard of ya—Granted, I've never really heard of anyone around these parts." She looked over into the horizon, rubbing her bicep. She seemed deliberately captivated by the colors settling onto the land.

'So she claims to be new to the country...'

I wouldn't doubt it too much. The honey color etched across her skin would definitely make others think twice about where she's from. There's also a small accent lingering at the back of her tone, I find it sexy.

Still, I'm rather curious about her, so I'll say something a bit more patronizing as an experiment, testing the waters or whatever. I bring my arms behind my head, looking over at the sunset. "Don't feel bad about being in the blind side. A newbie wouldn't know much about me in the first place unless they're some kind of huge fan, or even a stalker."

Then the look that burgeoned in her eye enthralled me. A corrosive flare. It spoke clear words. 'I don't like when people assume things about me.'

I almost bit my lip. 'That's hot.'

She sighed out nasally. "I can assure you, I'm neither one of those. Owl hero: Tundra." She barely spat that out as she crossed her arms, unintentionally making her breasts bulge in their bindings. "I've been on official duty in this city for over 72 hours now." She looked aside.

'Well that explains the wings.' Wouldn't a quirk like that be manifested from up North? But her skin and accent...She's a living cocktail.

And so I pressed on, chuckling. "I knew it. That cluelessness is bound to stem from lack of experience."

She raised an eyebrow as she met my eyes again. "Excuse me?"

The calmness in her voice was almost unsettling. It threw me for a loop. I genuinely can't think of any other female I've meet who could keep such a level-headed reaction up while being involuntarily insulted.

Those reactions were coaxing me to push her buttons. 'Let's see how far you'd go to remain in complete, professional control...'

"Don't take it personally, pigeon, it's just a fact." I was mostly betting on the bold assumption that she wouldn't take that nickname too kindly, and boy was I right.

"Pigeon?-" Her eyes flared along with a trembling fluff of her feathers. From the back of her throat came a short, rumbling sound resembling a hoot. Telling me I was crossing boundaries in a coherent avian language. Her pupils constricted, staring daggers straight through me.

'Hm. Definitely got bird of prey in her. Or maybe that's just her.'

I cooed mockingly in response, my wings unfurling widely to fan at her. Come at me.

The tension in the air weighed a ton as we stared each other down like natural enemies for a few lengthy seconds.

She seemed to have taken that as a challenge, but to my disappointment, she was quick to recompose herself, allowing her once erect feathers to relax against her back with a curt roll of her shoulders. Her eyes dilated back, though still a bit on the small side as she looked at me. I could feel it in every barb of my feathers, she was ready to tackle me a few moments ago.

It was sad to say that I found myself mildly disappointed. Mildly because to put it short, that reaction would've had my tail wagging if I were a dog. Well worth the effort it took to bring it to light.

She huffed out a breath. "You know what? I should probably be on my way. I'm wasting my time here. Good evening, Hawk man."

And with that, she calmly whirled around, unintentionally flashing me a great view of her juicy thighs and ass as she stormed off to the edge of the building, not forgetting to dramatically spread her wings.

Every step she took made those thighs shake. Holy fuck.

I had to will myself to not stop her. This urging curiosity to know more about this woman was certainly bubbling in its wake. Can't be the last time I'll see her. I don't think I'd allow it, actually.

She didn't look back as she jumped off the edge of the building, swooping down into the depths of the city.

I sighed, eyes promptly returning to study the calmness below. 'She's got a bit of a fire to her, doesn't she?'

"I'll stick a bit of a fire up your ass." A faint slur of mumbles drifted through the wind, making me blink confusedly as it reached my ears.

When I turned to look, there was no one.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Maze Trials: A Gally Fanfiction

Pairing: Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, first girl the Glade has seen. Tougher than she looks and more than ready to prove it. Since day one her and Gally have been at each other's throats. Fighting constantly and not just with their words.

(Gally fanfiction which will include smut. It also has an actual story line. Think of it as an AU to the original Maze Runner. It'll mostly follow the main story line with some changes. Mostly focusing on Emi and Gally and their relationship.)

Chapter Twenty-Two

I stood in the doorway of Alby's small office. Where he did his lists of supplies and tasks. I also came to learn that he wrote a journal. He made at least one entry a day. Right now he sat at his desk scribbling away on some paper.

"Knock knock" I said softly to get his attention.

He looked up at me. His eyebrows were still knit in concentration. He glanced down at the paper for a moment then slowly sat his pencil down.

"You alright?" I asked him.

He sighed then rubbed a hand down his face.

"As much as I can be considering." He sounded exhausted.

I couldn't imagine the weight on his shoulders. He was the very first one in the Glade. He survived an entire month alone. In that time he started to work the plan out for what the Glade is today. The weight of being our leader. The one we all look to for answers and guidance when something happens.

"I can't imagine what's going threw your head right now but I just wanted you to know that what you are about to do we all understand. It's not the first time. Some may not understand but most of us who have been here for awhile do understand. There's nothing else we can do but protect the majority. It sucks like hell but..." I trailed off unsure of what else to say.

"Thank you Emi. I appreciate that. Could you tell Gally and the other keepers that I need to have a counsel meeting please." Alby gave me a small forced smile.

I nodded then quickly left to inform the keepers. Outside the Homestead was a circle of boys. I went straight over to them.

"Hey boys, Alby needs you in the counsel hall." I said as I grabbed Gally's hand.

They all looked at me then nodded. They knew what to do. All the keepers were among the boys who'd been here the longest. Gally squeezed my hand then placed a quick kiss on my forehead before following the rest of the keepers. I noticed Chuck and Thomas sitting in the hammocks so I made my way over to them.

"Hi Emi" Chuck said with a large grin.

"Hi Chuck" I smiled back as I sat next to him.

"Thomas, how are you doing?" I asked the greenie.

"I'm confused mostly" he chuckled lightly.

"I was too the first time I saw the changing." I informed him.

"The changing?" He asked arching a brow at me.

"It's what happens when someone gets stung. They go threw the changing. There's no cure. Before I came here they had others stung but after trying everything they had and none of it working Alby decided banishment was their best option." I explained.

"Banishment?" Thomas questioned.

"You'll see later after the counsel meeting. Just remember we don't want to do this but we have to." I turned to look at Chuck.

I grabbed the young boy's hand and squeezed it gently. He hasn't witnessed a banishment yet but I know some of the older boys have told him about it. Thomas looked very confused and worried. He glanced behind him into the Glade which was empty now. Usually at this time the Glade would be full of gladers working. It was eerily quiet with the pending banishment hanging over all our heads.

Thomas, Chuck, and I sat in silence until the doors to the counsel hall opened. All the boys looked defeated. We watched them as they gathered what was needed. Each keeper getting their one long wooden polls. I learned they were used to actually push the glader out. The rest of us would have to grab our own spear. The only ones that weren't expected to be apart of this was Chuck because he is so young and Thomas because this is only day two for him.

"Emi" Gally shouted from a few feet away.

He was holding his poll in one hand and a spear in the other.

"I'll see you guys later" I said to Thomas and Chuck then went to Gally.

I took the spear from his hand then followed him over to the entrance of the maze. The gladers slowly filled in where they were needed. The keepers in the middle of the group. Chuck and Thomas were standing to the back of the group. All of us stood quietly as we watched Minho in the distance pull Ben out of the pit. He guided Ben threw the Glade to where we all stood.

"Please listen to me! Please! Minho!" Ben said threw clenched teeth.

He seemed to growl as Minho stayed silent.

"Alby" He growled as he walked past the leader.

As Minho passed the other keepers they moved to get in a line behind him. Minho pushed him onto his knees then cut the ropes binding his hands behind his head. He grabbed the bag of minimal supplies tossing it into the maze.

"No, no, no, please, no, please" Ben cried to Minho.

The sounds of the maze starting to shift and close told us it was time. The wind rushed into the Glade making Ben try to crawl backwards from it.

"Posts!" Alby shouted.

All the keepers moved to hold their posts out in front of them. Ben turned himself around to face the keepers as the rest of us gladers held our spears out to keep him from running back into the Glade. I noticed Chuck turn and walk away leaving Thomas to watch alone. Ben got to his feet then started to try to find a way threw us.

"Move in" Alby ordered.

The keepers walked forward using their posts to push Ben back.

"No! No, no, no!" Ben said frantically as he tried to push the posts away.

Ben tried to push back against them but he didn't stand a chance. He was frantically screaming no as the pushed him closer and closer to his death. They finally got him into the doors pushing him far enough so that his options were to go to the other side or let the walls crush him. He made his way to the other side of the doors. He stared at us threw the small opening until it closed and we could no longer see or hear him. The eerie quiet settled in around us once more.

"He belongs to the maze now." Alby said after leaning his post against the stone.

The rest of the keepers did the same with their posts. Most of them went back to the Glade. A small group of the builders along with Gally and myself went to the wall of names. I held one of the torches as Gally gathered what he needed to mark out Ben's name. We stood silently as Gally worked the chisel. This was what we did every time we lost someone. They carved their name when they got here and Gally marked it out when you died. We had to have something to always remember our friends, brothers, and family that we lost here in the Glade and in the maze. Maybe one day we wouldn't need this memorial anymore because we'd all be safe but for now we do what we can.

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