#I don't specialize in X but I do know enough about it to issue-spot

[notbecauseofvictories]

man, nothing like the little thrill you get at work, when you bring up a topic no one has considered and everyone looks at you like....how did you know that???

[lovelyhan]

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words

★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c

★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay

★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”

As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.

“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”

Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”

“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”

“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”

“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”

“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”

“Now that’s just downright evil.”

“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”

“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”

“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”

“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”

You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end. 

But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago. 

Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since. 

The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement. 

“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.” 

Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”

You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet. 

But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?

“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”

Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.

It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”

You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”

“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”

“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”

She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”

Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.” 

You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.

In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.

It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.

But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.

“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”

Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”

“Why would she be sad?”

Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams. 

“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?” 

You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work? 

“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?” 

Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”

Too afraid to…? 

“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.” 

“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”

“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.” 

She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?” 

“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”

“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!” 

You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her. 

“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”

Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”

You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”

“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”

Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared. 

But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…

Oh. 

Oh. 

Fuck. You still love him?!

“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”

“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”

“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”

“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”

“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”

Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.

When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen. 

It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.

If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back. 

By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.

Before you and Vernon broke up.

“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”

Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.

You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company. 

There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.

But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.

In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today. 

But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table. 

If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.

You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.

The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.

You still…love Vernon. 

If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone. 

But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?

Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better. 

The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created. 

You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.

Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.

That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.

How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?

Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.

Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.

You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.

“Wait, come again?”

“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.” 

Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”

“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”

“Alright, thank you, Nari.”

After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?

You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.

You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.

Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.

But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.

Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments. 

Yours and Vernon’s…

You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit. 

Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing. 

You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!

By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here? 

Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons. 

You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—

The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.

He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.  

God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”

You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”

Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”

You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will. 

But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.

The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.

He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love. 

It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”

You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”

He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away. 

“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.

“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”

You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?

“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.

Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.

“I might have a good idea.”

When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.” 

“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”

His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot. 

It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block. 

And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur. 

You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.

“There she is. All cozy at that.”

Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.

“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?” 

Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…

She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill. 

But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…

The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.

When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.

So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.

The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear. 

Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.

“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.” 

You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave. 

“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”

“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”

You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”

Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past. 

Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.

“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.” 

“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”

Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”

“Um. About a month ago?”

“That explains it then.” 

You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”

Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.

“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”

You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation. 

Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.

The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you. 

But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set. 

“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.

“Do I know what?” 

His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is. 

“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”

That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.

“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”

When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to. 

But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.

“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.

“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”

“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”

Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?” 

You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.

“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.” 

The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”

Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.

But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.

You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.

“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”

You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.

In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool. 

And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.

“Shit, Hansol, please.”

Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…

Pleasure.

He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you. 

Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.

It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.

“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”

Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.

“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip. 

“Like you want to swallow me whole.”

His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again. 

“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”

Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.

“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”

“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”

The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.

The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.

“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”

He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you. 

“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”

All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.

His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.

Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system. 

That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.

Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.

He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”

He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.

“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts. 

“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue. 

“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”

“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”

For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.

“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”

The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.

When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.

But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him… 

He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.

Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.

Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.

“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”

You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?” 

You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right? 

But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:

“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”

⟢ end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[sapphosclosefriend]

- Money, Power, Glory pt 4 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, brief smut

Summary: you're finally ready to start getting to know more about each other while in Cuba. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 4k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), talks of miscarriages (not R), big mommy issues, very brief smut.

A/N: this story contains smut and mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I can't believe we're on schedule…if it keeps going well, the Christmas special will come out next week!!! As usual, thanks so so much to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link !!! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You could barely breathe and the sounds that kept fighting to come out of your mouth over and over made it even harder for you to draw in some much needed air.

You could only lay limp on your stomach while Natasha had her weight on her hands on either side of your waist, getting enough leverage to thrust deep and hard into you and make your eyes roll back as she graced your ears with her breathless swears. She was incredibly close and, after a few more harsher thrusts that you were sure had to have made you slide up the bed at least a bit, she reached her peak with loud groans as she intently filled your pussy with all of her cum. Finally getting the chance, you tried your best to get your breathing back to normal while she stayed still inside of you and tried to do the same. You looked even more beautiful to Natasha as you lay under her. You were always ready to take anything from her, and your heavenly afterglow along with the way your pussy clenched around her while still coming down from your own peak, could've easily gotten her going once again. Sensing your tiredness, though, she immediately stopped her impure, spiraling thoughts to carefully pull out of you as gently as she could while lightly caressing the small of your back at the small hiss you tried to hide, before leaning down to land a quick peck on your bare back.

“You did so good for me”

You could only tiredly hum at the murmured praise as the older woman moved off of you to clean herself up, retrieve something to do the same to you and get a glass of fresh water. You were fighting to keep your eyes open, knowing that you could've easily fallen asleep as soon as you blocked the light coming from the large window, but you lost your battle once she came back to take care of you. You were starting to drift off as soon as her soft hand touched your shoulder to tell you she was back, but still made out her quiet chuckle once she finished her task and settled back in her spot on the bed. Feeling her gaze on you, you opened your eyes to be greeted by her lying form next to you, amusingly looking at you as you still hadn't moved an inch.

“Shut up”

Your grumbled words as you tried to look at her through only one eye seemed to be a way too entertaining show for Natasha as she fought to hide a smirk threatening to come out.

“I didn't say anything”

She was full on smiling now as you rubbed your eyes to get a better view of her.

“You don't need to”

Your sluggish movements as you did your best to find a comfortable position while turning to your side to face her would've made you almost embarrassed with any other customer, but you both knew deep down that Natasha simply wasn't any other customer. You both felt so at ease with each other and when your professionalism slipped away to leave space for genuineness, you gave her the courage for the same to happen to her and the constant control she always had even over her own self would leave some space for a more relaxed version of her you couldn't help but appreciate more and more. You admittedly felt very lucky to be able to witness the real person behind the big title and even though she was still clearly not ready to disclose too personal information about herself yet, you appreciated the effort she had put into sharing small, apparently meaningless, bits of her with you. You cherished every single word, every action, every joke, every glance and, unbeknownst to you, Natasha only felt her heart clenching more the less you asked her about herself. She would've poured her heart out to you, if only to make you happy and to satisfy your curiosity, but she knew that such a thing just wasn't possible. And seeing your clear desire to know anything you could about her, yet your restraint to do so, warmed her heart at the prospect of someone finally understanding her for once and letting her go at her own pace.

The happiness that always came from such beautiful thoughts that, by then, plagued her mind, though, was always destined to get shattered. Because she knew, deep down, that you were just doing your job after all. Yes, you were getting to know her and you wanted to do so, but you weren't actively looking to start a relationship or anything so crazy. You were just a girl being way too nice with a woman like her. Your interest couldn't possibly be as deep as hers was becoming. She just had to keep shaking the strange fluttering in her stomach away every time you looked at her like you were doing now, but your pretty eyes and your even prettier face made it impossible for her hand to stay in its place and before she knew it she was caressing your warm cheek before leaning in to leave a small peck on your lips and bashing in the incredible feeling of your touch on her.

She couldn't believe she was once again feeling disappointment, yet this time around it pierced her heart just so much harder. This time it wasn't someone else hopefully trying to get through the thick wall she had created against the outside and giving up before succeeding. This time she was the one who couldn't get to the person she seeked because such person simply didn't want her in the same way. She hated how vulnerable she felt, yet, for once, such a feeling, instead of the anger she was used to experiencing, got even more curiosity out of her. If nothing serious could happen it didn't mean that she couldn't indulge herself into knowing the most about you she could.

Noticing the goosebumps on your arms you tried not to bring any attention to, she silently got up from the bed, not bothering to cover up her godly body, to get some clothes for the both of you. As you lay alone on your side and admired the cloudy sky, free of all sun rays, the sight of the sea moving back and forth outside slightly started lulling you further into relaxation, also thanks to the oxytocin still running high through you. You didn't even hear her steps as she approached the bed once again and the warm light she turned on slightly startled you, pulling you out of your brief trance and getting your attention back to her. She was standing at the foot of the bed with her gray hair up in a messy bun and wearing only a pair of black boxers and a wrinkly band t-shirt, a kind of look you'd never seen on her. She looked pretty, like one of the truest versions of herself there was and one that made you want to hug her as hard as you could.

She was holding a pair of underwear you recognised as yours, that she probably found in your luggage, and a beige, slightly damaged, cashmere sweater you knew for sure was hers. You had seen it so many times in her house, always somewhere in case she needed it, if she wasn't wearing it already. You didn't know why, but the thought of something so simple such as Natasha having a favorite sweater made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, especially knowing that she was offering it to you now.

As you thanked her for the clothes and put them on, not even bothering to get out of bed to do so, she gathered the duvet from the floor to lay it over the bed once you sat back, letting it cover you and immediately warming you up a bit. You only wanted to admire her long legs and the snippet of her stomach as her t-shirt rode up while she got into bed, but the smell coming from the fabric on your body almost got you back into the post sex trance you just exited. The sweater sat soft like a cloud on your skin and the sleeves, a little too long for you, offered you the opportunity to ball their remaining fabric around your fists, warming up your hands and almost forcing you to move them closer to your face to fully breathe in the scent that intoxicated you. It didn't just smell like her perfume, it smelled like her, like her skin, like her hair, like Natasha.

You could've fallen asleep right then and there, with the soft sound of her even breathing and her smell clouding your mind, but you opened your eyes once her fingers gently moved a strand of hair away from your face and tenderly caressed your cheekbone once again. The second your gaze met hers, the vast ocean outside of the yacht completely disappeared, leaving you alone to drown in the greenish, addicting sea that were her eyes, instead. Gosh, how gladly you would’ve died lost in their depth.

“Can I ask you…can I ask you something about yourself?”

Her murmured question, spoken so quietly and even unsurely, pulled your mind off the beautiful endlessness of her eyes.

“Sure…I'm not that interesting, though, compared to someone like you.”

“You’re very interesting to me.”

Her small voice as she muttered the words warmed your heart like never before and almost made you tear up at the genuine interest she seemed to have over you. It was a bit hard for you to open up, certainly not as much as it was for her, but you did your best not to hold back when you could, hoping to make her trust you enough to let her guard down if she wanted to. And so, with a small nod from you, she moved to lie on her side, holding her head up on her hand, while you wiggled closer to her until you found a comfortable position to look up at her from your spot as you lay down next to her.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Everything you wanna tell me.”

You never disclosed personal information to your customers, after all it's not like they really wanted to know anything about you. Whenever they asked you something it was always out of courtesy, never of true interest, so you would just find a polite way to discreetly deviate the conversation to something they actually had interest in. But seeing the little smile on her face as she sweetly waited for your response with so much interest in her eyes, warmed your heart like never before and made you feel as though you could've never stopped yourself from telling her whatever the hell she wanted.

“Sorry, I’m usually not very good at opening up”

You tried to justify your initial silence as you thought about something to start the conversation with, your mind overcrowded by a turmoil of emotions.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t seem like it, but I like listening to people I care about. Of course you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, though.”

The sudden warmth in your cheeks at the mention of possibly being as lucky as being someone Natasha cared about immediately lost its importance, as you tentatively looked up at her. The disappointment you were afraid to meet wasn't anywhere on her face, though, as it was only filled with what you could only describe as love and care. She was at ease, she was talking and maybe she was even more than at ease. She trusted you. You couldn't ruin such an achievement and she needed to know that you noticed and you appreciated it.

“No no, I want to, really! I want to, Natasha”

You held her soft hand in yours as you intently looked at her in the eye as a way to reassure her of your willingness and, once you tried to let go, feeling slightly ashamed of your initial eagerness with your action, you were glad to feel her hold tighten on your hand, signaling she was more than fine with the contact.

“When we got here this morning you said the smell of the ocean reminded you of your childhood, why?”

You still seemed uncertain for a moment, but her comforting, warm hand in yours and her patient silence gave you the courage you needed to start talking to her. It surprised you how at ease you felt as soon as the first word left your mouth and after that, it was as if the floodgates had been opened.

"You know, there are studies that show how the faintest of smells or scents, in a mere millisecond can trigger whole memories that you never even knew you had or that you haven't thought about in years. That always happens to me with what I call the salty sea, this warm, dry, saline smell that always makes me feel so many things. It's bittersweet.

You know, when I was a kid I'd always spend the summer with my grandparents at the seaside. My parents couldn't take time off work so I'd spend those months away from home, only the three of us. I used to love that, I was always looking forward to it: we always stayed at a very beautiful campsite, in our trailer and it was so fun, to stay in our cozy little house during those three months and have more adventures every single day. I'd go to the pool, ride my bike, play at the park, paint at the kid's club, swim in the ocean, make sand castles. And every year I'd make new friends from all over the world. Sometimes I'd never see them ever again, which was sad, but I knew that I'd meet new ones and make the pain in my heart go away.

The thing that I liked the most about those summers, though, was how sweet my mom used to be to me. We wouldn't see each other all day every day, so there wasn't the risk of me pissing her off, doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing, forgetting to do something, making her forget to do something. We wouldn't see each other all day every day, so her daily evening calls were only filled with love and affection from her. Every day she'd call and she'd ask me what I had done and how the new kids I met were. She'd tell me she missed me so freaking much and that she couldn't wait for me to be back home in her arms. I'd cry almost every night, because every night I'd realize just how much I missed her and that I would've left and even walked all the way back home if she missed me too much. I hated how I could hear the strain in her voice from the whole day spent at work and the pain from being away from me. She was used to not spending a lot of time together, she had to go back to work very soon after I was born and always worked very long hours, but of course it was different in those summer months.

When I got older I realized that being away from one another was actually much better than we thought: after being apart for a while, the need to be together and the way she missed me would make the side of her that wasn't always happy with life go away, at least for a little bit. She didn't get the chance of getting angry with me or me triggering a mental breakdown and her telling me that she just needed to leave dad and I and get a new life or end it all. It's funny, I never realized how fucked up it is to say something like that to a 6 years old until very little ago.

Anyway, during those summers the only thing my mom did was love me, actually, not love me, she liked me, I wasn't flawed and always doing something wrong, I was her daughter and she liked me and she loved me. And then I understood, I need to stay away from her for a little while, so that she can love me for a little bit.

So yeah, it's bittersweet, the salty sea."

You couldn’t process what just happened, but what took over your mind as soon as you finished talking wasn’t the shock from being able to disclose such information to someone who wasn’t family or your therapist, but the fear of having ruined for good whatever small traces of a connection you had with Natasha thanks to your uncontrolled rambling. She said “everything”, but what if it was too deep? She said “everything”, but what if she wasn't ready to tell you something like that about herself and you made her feel forced to do so? She said “everything”, but what if you had built her wall back up with your own hands?

Sensing the panic you were almost perfectly hiding, she gently pulled you against her chest to hold you in her arms and kiss the top of your head before the “sorry” you had ready for her could leave your lips. Pulling back, she finally admired your beautiful face once again, feeling a bit more reassured at the slightly lessened, yet still present, traces of tension on your features. You looked small, young, younger than you were, with almost imperceptible traces of childhood you still seemed to unknowingly hold onto behind your eyes. You looked young because you were young and for the first time with her you didn't try to hide yourself behind a closely crafted composed facade that sometimes didn't fully fit you.

“And how is it now? If I can ask.”

"We don't really see each other anymore, except for the holidays sometimes, but we're not on bad terms at all. We always text and talk through the phone. It's just that her calls now feel like those old summer ones, always so sweet"

She didn’t respond to you, but she didn’t need to say anything, you understood how hard it could be for someone like her to express herself with her words. Her eyes and the warmth of her arm, still holding you in a loose hug, easily made you understand anything she would’ve wanted to express to you.

You tried your best to be as open as you could, but you knew you needed to take your mind off of certain things before your mood would’ve been ruined for the whole weekend and you still wanted to try to get to know at least something more about Natasha. You had to try, at least.

“Can I ask you why you like this sweater so much?”

You didn’t know where that question came out of, maybe the thought had been bugging you for way too long and your mind pulled a trick on you. Great, now she must’ve really thought you were crazy for good.

“I’m sorry, it must sound dumb”

You tried to brush it off with a small, pathetic laugh as you lowered your head to hide from her out of embarrassment, internally facepalming at your impulsiveness, but her hand on your arm, softly rubbing her thumb over it gave you the courage to look back up at her.

“No, not at all!”

The slight worry in her eyes, at first caused by the sight of your discomfort from your own question, soon turned into the usual worry she felt at the prospect of sharing certain aspects of her life with someone else. But the more she looked at you, the more the deep, gnawing feeling slowly got replaced by the mere melancholy of what the answer to your question consisted of. She knew it would’ve been hard but for once she wanted to do it, for once she wanted to try to open herself for someone she knew would’ve been willing to accept what came with her. And so she took the leap of faith.

“I know I have a poor reputation in terms of marriages, everyone apparently knows about it. I also know it was my fault for not making it work out every time, but if I have to be honest I never felt too…bad about myself for it. I mean, I know I’m not perfect and I have too many things to think about to try to be someone I’m not for the sake of a wife. I think the only oth-…time I did was with my first wife.

I got to know Maria when I was in college and as soon as I graduated we got married, got a house and I started working a shitty office job. We struggled for a bit, I wasn’t making a lot of money and she was working as a waitress, but I did anything I could to make our lives better and finally I got a pretty good promotion. That sweater was one of the first things I bought for myself and, I know it sounds stupid, but every time I looked at it, it reminded me that I had power over my life and we could finally have a decent life, I could give her a decent life. I was so happy, not only because I knew I could’ve done more for her, but I was also proud of myself, I mean, I liked my job.

I only realized just how much time I was spending away from home, away from her, when she told me she wanted to have a baby. We had more than enough money for it but I knew that my focus wasn’t at home back then. At first I tried to make any excuses I could, but eventually I just gave in. I think she noticed that I was doing it more for her than for me, but, if she did, she didn't mention it. We tried for a bit and at first it didn't work, but eventually she got pregnant. And she was so happy after all those months, she was over the moon. Of course I was happy we were expecting, but I could still feel my focus being somewhere else…and then she lost the baby and I was so stupid I barely even said I was sorry. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to help her…

We tried to go on for a bit and I knew I couldn't help her out emotionally, so I did what I know how to do best. I worked more and I bought her more stuff and I brought her on more trips but it was all for nothing and that sweater now reminded me that I couldn't be what she needed, that I wasn't perfect.

I cared, after she left me, then I didn't and now I know I just can't be perfect.”

You could still see some small hints of fake confidence she was so used to displaying, but the insecurity and sadness still drenched her words as she avoided your gaze at all costs. You could see her trying to get some last words out and her slightly shaky breathing almost got you worried for her.

“You know, I don't give a shit about what people think of me…but…you make me wanna be perfect”

Her brows were knitted as she tentatively whispered her words, almost as if she couldn’t understand such a concept. She didn't do what she was so used to be doing, what she had done with all of her wives. She didn't do her best just as a way to avoid you getting mad, she did it because she felt you deserved to always be with her best self, nothing less.

Everything was different with you, everything felt different…

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Part 5

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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy @mrsromanovaa @wizardofstories @karsonromanoff

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

[scoonsalicious]

Chapter 6, Unattached - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, angst (Bring on the Pain!), alcohol usage, dumbass Bucky, noncon kissing that becomes con kissing, so..., arguing, jealous!Pocket, posessive!Bucky.

Word Count: 5.4k

Previously On...: After Bucky left you alone in your room, not wanting people to get 'the wrong idea' about the two of you, you came to the horrible conclusion that you were in love with your best friend. What the hell are you going to do about that?

A/N: Wow, okay! So, first off, Chapter 6 is long, and it only has the one part, so don't worry if you go looking for more and the next thing you find is Chapter 7! Second, there's a lot of progress and updates on Unwanted I wanted to share! I am already well into writing Chapter 14, and have planned out the rest of the story. We'll have a total of 25 chapters, plus an epilogue (unless something strikes me creatively that throws the entire thing for a loop, then all bets are off). This beast, as it currently sits, is already 208 Google Docs pages long and just shy of 80k words, so final product is probably going to be novel-length, which just blows my mind. I want to give a special shout out to @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for being my beta and my sounding board; your help and support has been immeasurable!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief

You stood in front of the doors to the common room, the low thrum of conversation and music filtering out from inside. Taking a deep breath, you tried for the umpteenth time to calm your nerves following your unsettling realization.

You had no idea how to approach this, how to approach Bucky. Do you tell him how you felt, in the hope that he felt the same way? But what if he didn't? Could you risk losing him all together? Or do you just keep on like nothing's changed, happy with what you have together? Would that be enough for you? Could you even be happy in a real relationship?

Why couldn't your mother have just been a decent human being and let you go to school like a normal child so you could have worked through all your awkward issues at the appropriate time, instead of saddling you with years of trauma and isolation that left you an emotionally stunted adult? God, you needed a strong drink and to talk to Nat, preferably in that order. Pushing open the common room door, you stepped inside, surveying the room with one eye out for Bucky, the other out for your friend.

It should have been of no surprise, then, that instead of either, you first spotted Jade Carthage. She was situated on a couch in the center of the room, like a queen on her throne before her court, and nearly every Avenger and agent with a penis was surrounding her, jockeying for her attention, even Clint who, you knew for a fact, loved his wife Laura more than life itself.

Your stomach dropped when, after one of the agents in front of the couch shifted slightly, you saw Bucky sitting immediately to Jade's left. And while it seemed like everyone else was clamoring for Jade to pay attention to them, she only had eyes for him. Jealousy coursed through you as she leaned in close, whispering something into his ear that had him throwing his head back in laughter. It was an entirely unpleasant sensation that you would be happy to never feel again. Especially because you knew you had no real right to feel it in the first place. You may have just realized you were in love with him, but he had made no similar declaration to you.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself. It was like she could read your mind.

Nat shrugged. "So long as I'm not the one cleaning up the mess, I say have fun. But what happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

Nat's eyes widened as a grin took over her face. "Honey, that's fantastic!" She leaned in to give you a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" Taking in your forlorn expression, she quickly lost her good humor. "Why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

You cast another glance over at the couch. Jade was tracing her fingers along the golden veins of Bucky's vibranium arm and you felt like snakes were crawling through your stomach. "Because I don't know what the fuck to do about it, Natty," you told her with a sigh. "I've never felt like this before in my entire life and it's fucking terrifying; what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he does and I mess everything up because I'm so fucking damaged inside?"

Natasha looped her arm through yours, leaning into you. "Honey, first of all, you are not damaged. You've been through hell and it left its mark on you, that's true, but you've been so strong. We're House Martell, remember?"

You sniggered, remembering how, when the entire Tower was obsessed with watching Game of Thrones together and picking what houses you'd each belong to, you and Nat had been drawn to the words of the ruling house of Dorne. And also, Pedro Pascal, obviously.

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," you recited from memory, a reminder that despite the obstacles life had thrown at you, you remained standing, stronger for what you had endured.

"Atta girl," Nat nudged you with her elbow. "And second of all, you don't need to worry about Bucky's feelings. Boy's obviously mad for you. Everyone can see it."

You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. "I don't know, Nat. He's been acting strange lately. I tried to give him head earlier and he flat out rejected it." Come to think of it, that was exceptionally weird since, in your text exchange, he'd explicitly told you he'd been waiting in your room specifically for the purpose of getting off.

"Huh. That's... not like him." Nat tilted her head and looked over at Bucky, expression curious. "Did he say why?"

"He was real eager to come up here and get in the middle of that, apparently." You waved a hand in the general direction of the couch where Jade's little reverse-harem was still going strong. "I was getting on my knees and everything."

Nat raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"And then he made a really big deal about us coming up here separately. Said he didn't want people getting 'the wrong idea' about us if we arrived together."

Letting go of your arm, Natasha spun to face you, her face a mask of anger. "He said what now?!" she practically shouted, temporarily drawing everyone's attention to you. You looked around sheepishly as you tried to dismiss their stares.

"Nat," you begged in a whisper, "keep it down."

"Okay, okay, sorry." Natasha lowered her voice to a level only you could hear. "I'm sorry, but that's just complete and utter bullshit. Look, I know you guys think you've been in super secret stealth mode about hiding it, but pretty much everyone on the team knows you've been sleeping together. Hell, most of us placed bets on it." You opened your mouth in order to protest but she cut you off.

"If anything, it's weirder if the two of you don't show up to something together, so I don't know what the hell he's thinking."

"I do," you said morosely. "He doesn't want her getting the wrong idea about us."

"Pocket, don't even let your mind go there," Nat said.

"Think about it, Nat; I've been standing here for what, fifteen minutes now? And he hasn't even looked at me. When's the last time that happened?"

Nat's brows creased, her expression clouding over into something immensely sad for you, and you knew she was realizing what you'd already seen. In the last year, you and Bucky had been attached at the hip, nearly physically joined to one another, and if you were apart, your eyes were always scanning the room in search of the other's presence, seeking them out. The fact that he hadn't even looked for you, let alone come to you since you walked in, was telling in its own heartbreaking way.

Nat let out a heavy sigh. "Oh Pocket. Honey, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes if you kept down this path. "Don't Natty, please. I can't fall apart, not here."

"Yeah, okay-- you're right. Now is not the time. Come on." Linking her arm through yours once again, she directed you toward the bar where Tony was standing, whiskey in hand. "If anyone can talk you to distraction," she murmured as you approached him, "it's Stark."

You let out a startled laugh and let her guide you toward the man who had already saved you more times than you could count.

"Hey, kiddo; Romanoff." Tony saluted you with his glass and you did your best to smile back at him as you stuffed your emotions down as far as they would go. "What do you think of our new recruit?" he asked Nat.

"I think 'Weasel' would be a better fitting code name for her than 'Vixen,'" Nat replied with a sly smile as she took a sip of wine.

"Ah, saw the security feed, did you?" Tony asked her. Nat nodded.

"Watched it live as it happened. Wasn't going to leave my bestie without eyes on her six." She gave your arm an affectionate squeeze.

Tony hummed and glanced over to the couch. "Wish Cap had been as discerning as you. He refused to watch the feed; said it made him uncomfortable to spy on someone when they didn't know they were being recorded." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Always the fucking Boy Scout," she murmured.

"So, how did the interview itself go?" you asked Tony, not really sure you wanted to know the answer, but feeling the need to punish yourself with the details, anyway.

Tony leaned back against the bar, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. "If it were up to me, we wouldn't even be playing this charade right now," he said, motioning with his chin to indicate the meet and greet. "Girl's a first-class bullshitter."

"Talent recognizing talent?" you asked with a wry smile that almost felt genuine.

He pointed a finger and winked at you. "Exactly. She talked a good talk, but it doesn't take much to see she's suffering from Big Fish, Small Pond Syndrome. She's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she's ready to swim in the ocean with the whales and the sharks."

"So, you're not going to offer her the probationary position?" you asked, hope rising pathetically in your chest. As if you could un-ring the bell.

"Oh, I didn't say that," Tony said as you deflated. "It's not all up to me. Though, given the fact that I personally fund this entire operation, you'd think it really should be, right?" At the look on your face he moved on. "Apologies, I digress. Anyway, Cap thinks it's only fair we offer it to her, seeing as how we don't have a ton of other options knocking on our door, and Fury's not going to get off my ass until we find someone." He sighed. "I think this entire exercise is a waste of time, and we should be kicking her out on her ass for how she treated you earlier, Pocket, but I'm outvoted."

"Thanks, Boss," you said softly, grateful at least that Tony could see through Jade's facade and took how she treated you seriously. Too bad your best friend couldn't offer you the same courtesy.

The timer on Tony's watch went off. "And that's the dinner bell," he said, putting down his glass. Clapping his hands, he called out to the rest of the room. "Attention Avengers, SHIELD Agents, and... whoever else managed to sneak in off the street! Dinner is served, so if we could all head to the dining room before the food gets cold and Raul quits on me, I'd appreciate it very much."

You held back as the crowd of people noisily moved to the dining room, hoping to catch Bucky's eye, but he remained steadfastly absorbed in his conversation with Jade.

"Come on, honey," Nat said as she took your elbow. "You can talk to him during dinner. You nodded and allowed her to lead you into the dining room. You and Bucky had sat next to one another, without fail, for every meal for the last year, the only exception being when one of you was away on a mission. You'd have plenty of opportunities to talk to him while you ate.

Normally, you all ate at one large table, but since this was a special occasion that required the attendance of a lot more than just the regular 13 members of your family (14, if Parker was around), Tony had the dining room arranged more like a restaurant, with a series of smaller tables spread out throughout the space.

You and Nat followed Bucky and Jade to a six-top where Steve and Sam were already getting ready to sit down, but you froze in your tracks when Bucky pulled back a chair for Jade, pushing it in behind her as she sat down before taking the seat next to her.

The air seemed to grow heavy, as though it weighed too much for you to draw it into your lungs and your chest began to hurt. How could such a simple action be causing you so much physical pain?

Steve, who had already been sitting at Bucky's other side at the head of the table, caught your eye and moved to get up to offer you his chair, instead, as though that could make up for Bucky's dismissal of you.

You subtly shook your head, not wanting to draw attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way over to the only two remaining seats at the table: the one next to Sam that was directly across from Jade and Bucky or the one next to Jade at the opposite end of the table from Steve. Deciding it was better to be sitting across from Steve than either of the other two, you opted for the chair at the end, and Nat slid in next to Sam.

You cast a quick glance in Jade's direction and had to stifle a sick laugh-- she was physically coming between you and Bucky, quite literally.

Jade reached a hand out to Nat across the table. "Wow! Black Widow! It is so great to meet you! My name's Vixen; I'm a huge fan! I'm so excited for us to be working together!"

Bless Nat, she just stared at the girl with arms crossed across her chest, impassive and judging, until Jade slowly and awkwardly pulled her hand back.

"I take it, then, that you've deemed the Avengers good enough to be your backup team?" Nat asked without expression.

You did your best to cover the laughter that escaped from you with a fake cough, but you didn't try very hard to be convincing.

"What's this about, now?" Steve asked, leaning forward.

"Little Vixen over here," Nat began, leaning back in her chair until she was perched on the two rear legs, "was live-streaming this morning to her social media followers. Told them it wasn't so much that the Avengers were interviewing her to see if she'd be good for the team, but she was interviewing us to see if we'd be good back up for her."

Jade had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment before she turned to face you for the first time, anger taking over her features. "So, what? Didn't much take you for a tattler. You that intimidated by me?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but were interrupted by the sound of the legs of Nat's chair slamming back against the floor. "Pocket didn't tell me shit. I heard it straight from your mouth on the security feed. That and a lot of other interesting things."

"You're spying on her, Nat? Really?" Bucky spoke up. "She's our guest and she deserves a modicum of privacy, don't you think?" You stared at him, open mouthed, but he didn't spare you a glance.

"It was a part of her interview, Barnes," Nat spat. "Maybe if you---"

"Okay, Nat, Bucky," Steve said, using his official Captain America voice, "let's table this conversation for later and just enjoy our meal. Raul worked really hard on tonight's menu, so let's not spoil it for him, alright?"

Both Nat and Bucky grumbled their agreement as the catering staff brought out the first course and placed them on each of your plates. Normally, you loved when Raul, Tony's personal chef, cooked meals for the team; he always made sure to throw in something with lemon in it, knowing how much you loved the flavor; but tonight, your appetite was failing you and you ended up pushing more food around on your plate than you put in your mouth.

You couldn't help but steal glances over at Bucky, who continued to be wrapped in conversation with Jade. You tried to keep up with what the others were saying, occasionally nodding your head in agreement to something, but you weren't able to pay any real attention; your mind was elsewhere until you noticed Jade looking at you.

"You know, I have to say I'm surprised to see so many non-Avengers here. I got the impression that this group was... I dunno, elite? But it seems like you just let anyone in."

Steve laughed from the other end of the table. "Being an Avenger is a team effort, Vixen. Everyone plays their part. And besides, Pocket here's just as much an Avenger as I am." The comment took you by surprise, and you gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched by his words.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended, and all the warmth you'd felt at Steve's compliment vanished in an instant, leaving you feeling cold and hollow. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities or powers or what have you, but she's got a brilliant mind. She's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation from MIT, three Master's degrees, she speaks seven languages, she's got a black belt in Krav Maga, and she was the youngest Chief Technology Officer in Stark Industries history; all without ever having formally graduating high school. It's no exaggeration for me to say that I'd be dead a couple of dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her even more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do– primarily because of things that happened to us by accident; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks, and the strength and quality of the work she’s willing to put in. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You looked at Steve as if seeing him for the very first time. You had no idea he thought so highly of you, and his praise warmed you. You offered him a soft smile, your throat tightening with emotion and leaving you unable to express your gratitude. You mouthed a silent thank you instead, hoping that conveyed how much his words meant to you. He winked back at you in acknowledgement.

Bucky glanced back and forth between the two of you, as if analyzing your silent exchange. He coughed awkwardly. "I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the really dangerous stuff," he backpedaled, poorly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, expression blank, until he looked away in embarrassment. Good. Let him feel an ounce of the discomfort you’d been feeling this entire time.

Small talk resumed around the table, with Sam telling Steve about some new modification he was making to Redwing, and Bucky and Jade back to being locked in their own bubble. You did your best to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jade directed to Bucky, but it felt like your eyes were drawn to them like a magnet every time she touched him. Which seemed to be happening more and more frequently. You couldn't help but notice the way he leaned toward her when she spoke. Did he ever do that when he was talking with you?

"So, Bucky," Jade said eventually, her voice low and flirty as the caterers took away the main course, "handsome super hero like you, you seeing anyone?" Your eyes snapped up to Bucky's face, watching him. Surely he was going to look to you, make eye contact, something to acknowledge what was between you, to make you feel like you were in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet as him. But he didn't.

"Nope," he said, running his hand over the back of his neck like he always did when he was feeling self conscious or nervous. "Not seeing anyone, though I'm not opposed to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that had hurt less than hearing the words that had just come out of Bucky's mouth. It took everything in you to resist getting up from the table and leaving the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere at your table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Bucky either was oblivious to the stares or was doing a great job patently ignoring them.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jade's and not yours. How could he sit there and just completely deny you like that? Had you been deluding yourself? Had you just been some kind of fuck toy this entire time?

The caterers brought the next course, a cold raspberry soup. You sat there, staring into space as you mechanically spooned the soup into your mouth, trying your hardest to appreciate the taste, but everything seemed bitter in light of Bucky's attitude, actions, and words.

"Could you hand me the water carafe?" Bucky asked. You looked up to watch Jade hand him the bottle of water. "Thanks, doll," he said, smiling at her.

You dropped your spoon, letting it fall into your nearly empty bowl with a reverberating clang. Your companions at the table stared, eyes wide as their gazes traveled between you and Bucky. In his entire time at the tower, he had never once called another woman 'doll.' It was a moniker he'd specifically reserved for you.

Or, it used to be.

You could tell the exact moment when Bucky realized he'd fucked up. His eyes locked on yours, the color draining from his face. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak to you, but you'd had enough. Without a word, you pushed back your chair with enough force that it practically tipped over and exited the dining room.

You made it all the way to the elevator before you heard him calling for you.

"Doll! Doll, where are you?" You stabbed repeatedly at the call button, as if it would bring the car to you faster. You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, and you really didn't want to talk to him right now.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you slid inside, turning to press the 'Close Door' button just as you saw Bucky turn the corner to the elevator bay. You were ready to breathe a sigh of relief at evading him until Bucky's metal hand shot in the diminishing space between the closing doors. You were trapped.

"Doll, didn't you hear me callin' to you?" he asked as he slid into the car with you.

You looked around, as if searching for another person in the car. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? Should probably be more specific with your pet names, then. A girl’s liable to get confused." You were impressed that the words came out as hard and bitter as you felt inside.

Bucky flinched. "I deserved that."

You leaned forward to press the button for your floor before crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You fucking think?"

"Look, it just slipped out, okay? I didn't mean anything by it. It's not a big thing you needed to storm out over." You rolled your eyes at him, disgusted that that was the only thing he seemed to realize he'd done to offend you all evening. "Pocket, can we just talk about this?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" you asked, jutting out your hip in annoyance. "Seemed like earlier today, you couldn't wait to not be seen with me, or do you no longer care if people get the wrong idea?"

"Alright," Bucky said, slamming his fist against the elevator's emergency stop button. You stumbled as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky tried to put his hands on you to steady you, but you pushed him away. "What is going on with you today, Pocket?"

"What's going on with me?" you asked him, incredulous. "What's going on with you? You've been an ass to me all night, that is when you weren't acting like I didn't exist."

"How am I being an ass?" he asked, voice rising. "You're the one who couldn't even hold a civil conversation with our guest! It was embarrassing!" You recoiled as if he'd slapped you, backing away from him until your back hit the elevator wall.

"Wow. Okay then." You blinked heavily, telling yourself not to cry. You'd be damned if you showed weakness in front of him now. Bury the emotions, encase them in ice. "Sorry I'm such a fucking embarrassment to you, Sergeant Barnes. Now that I know how you feel, I'll make sure to stay out of your way so you don't have to put up with me." You moved to press the button to restart the elevator, but Bucky grabbed your wrist.

"Don't do this," he growled at you. "Don't hide behind snappy quips so you can shut down and avoid having a real conversation with me." You stared between his eyes and where he held your wrist in his metal grip. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but it was tight enough to keep you from breaking free.

His gaze softened as he watched you. "I never said I was embarrassed of you, Pocket. I just don't know why you had to be so rude to Jade at dinner tonight."

"Name one thing I did that was rude to her," you challenged.

"Okay," Bucky stuck out a finger as though he were about to count off all your grievous errors. "Let's see... You said... No, that was Nat... You were... okay, Steve said that... You said... No, that was Nat again." He looked up at you sheepishly. "So, maybe you actually didn't say anything during dinner, but not talking to her was still rude."

You scoffed. "You want to talk rude and embarrassing, Bucky? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have everyone staring at me when you pulled out my chair for Jade, or when my own best friend didn't defend me when she had the audacity to call me a fucking tattler? Like I’m some kind of fucking child?" Your voice was rising and you could feel yourself getting swept up in your anger. "How about the pity looks I got when everyone heard you lie about not seeing anyone, or when you called her 'doll'? Or when you told her I was 'Avengers-adjacent'? You think I'm the embarrassing one? You made me feel like an insignificant piece of shit tonight, Barnes. God, if it hadn't been for Steve saying what he said, you would have driven me to tears."

Bucky had been staring down at his boots as you'd been speaking, as though your accusations were too much for him to face head-on, but at the mention of Steve's name, his head snapped up, blue eyes like ice on your face. "Well, if Steve's such a hero, why aren't you fucking him, then?" he asked, voice clipped and bitter.

You yanked your wrist free from his grasp. "Maybe I should start!" you shouted. "At least he's not embarrassed of me and doesn't forget I exist when another pair of tits shows up!"

Bucky's gaze darkened and in an instant, he was on you, caging your body against the elevator wall, a hand on either side of your head. "Don't you even fucking joke about that," he snarled.

You jutted out your chin, refusing to show any sign of weakness, though his actions were beginning to frighten you. "Who says I'm joking? Sounds like a good idea to me; thanks for suggesting it." You moved to duck under his arm, but he grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

His breaths were coming hard and fast now, as though he'd just run a marathon. His gaze darted between your eyes and your lips, as though trying to make up his mind about something. In the next instant, his mouth was crashing down on yours, his tongue demanding entry.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Bucky took that as his invitation, deepening the kiss with a primal fervor. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. For a moment, you were stunned, unsure of what was happening. But then instincts took over – he was kissing you, really kissing you. Your stomach fluttered and your heart hammered in your chest.

One of your hands ran through his hair, while the other gripped his shoulder for support. His hands had somehow migrated beneath your shirt, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin at your sides. You returned his kiss with as much intensity as he gave. But then suddenly, as if waking from a dream, you remembered why you were angry with him. You pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.

You were both panting, and despite your attempt to put distance between your bodies, Bucky leaned down, resting his forehead against yours as he fought to catch his breath. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "Don't sleep with Steve."

"You realize how incredibly infuriating you're being right now, don't you?" you asked. "You can't just treat me like that, ignore me all night in favor of someone else, then kiss me and try to tell me who I can or can't sleep with."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said, nuzzling your nose with his, "I know and I'm sorry, but please, promise me: no matter how angry you are with me, don't sleep with Steve. You wanna fuck someone else to piss me off? Go fuck Sam, Thor, Rhodes, hell, even Parker. I'll hate it, but if it's Steve, it'll fucking kill me."

"Your signals are all over the place tonight, Buck," you sighed, letting out an involuntary moan as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck and sucked at your skin. You had to pull away before he turned you into a babbling mess. "If you think you can just kiss me into oblivion and I'll forgive you for everything you've said and done tonight, you better think again, because that's not happening."

Bucky ran both his hands through his hair, sending it pointing every which way. Then he pressed the emergency stop button again, letting the elevator resume its journey. "I know I owe you an explanation, Pocket," he said. "So, can we go to your room and talk? No interruptions, no one else, just you and me, okay?"

You studied him, considering. A part of you was still so angry at him that you didn't want to hear him out, but the part of you that loved him hated the idea of leaving things in a bad place. In your line of work, you never knew when your next goodbye might be your last goodbye.

"Fine," you said, dropping your shoulders with a sigh. "We can talk, I'll hear you out, but I'm not promising forgiveness."

He smiled, his eyes bright once again. "That's all I ask, Sweets. That's all I ask."

<- Previous Chapter / Next Chapter ->

[bugs1nmybrain]

Clingy!Tomura x Fem!Reader - Headcanons

Minors Don't Interact

Warnings: NSFW, submissive Tomura, mommy kink!!, mdlb, attachment issues, shiggy being a lil bitch, clingy Tomura, toxic relationship, pegging/anal sex (shiggy receiving), I am unhinged

I wanted a longer one shot but I have too many thoughts so here they are. Idk what's gotten into me. There will probably be a part two. I'm sleepy

So for starters, Shigaraki is a confusing dude because that whole "I hate everything" complex is almost completely reversed when it comes to you unless he has a legitimate reason to be mad at you. He loves you

He is clingy, and if he's not doing something important, he is totally hanging off of you. He's the type to follow you to the bathroom because he just can't get enough of your company. He doesn't care that it's weird

Will deny that he is so dependent on you!! Don't believe him. He will prove himself otherwise shortly after when he's rambling at you about how it's stupid that you have to go to work and "leave him stranded"

This guy has never received positive female attention since he was a child, and even then, he only got it from girls who betrayed his trust

So if you hold a sort of protective energy toward him and don't hesitate to stand up for him, he will ADORE you

That "motherly" affection you give him makes him choke and awakens a boy who was never loved properly. It's not as twisted as it sounds, he just feels at home with you, and when you baby him and treat him like a prince his heart pounds so much and his cheeks go red.

The mommy kink starts as a joke

You'll ask him to do something in an assertive tone and he's just "Yes mommy :)"

And you'll go "👀"

Then he just roles with it, and calls you mommy at random times just to piss you off

It's not until you both discover that you have a rather nurturing side that it becomes a regular thing that turns both of you on

It's sexual at first. When you take charge and spoil him, ask him what he needs, and pleasure him in the exact ways you know makes him cum hard, he'll be pleading.

"Fuuuck, Mommy pleeeaase! Please make me cum, please, mommy!!"

"Mmm pleaseee. I've been a good boy, fuuuck mommy!"

Once you do, he's begging you to come snuggle with him. He'll rest his head on your boobs and hold on for dear life.

He loves roaming his hands on your body and feeling how soft and plushy you are compared to his rather rigid and toned figure.

You're cozy! He feels like he's grabbing a teddy bear

His favorite spots to grab are your waist, butt, and tummy

Sometimes his fingers wander to your cunt compulsively because he just doesn't think

Oh great god he loves your pussy so much

Your pussy is enough to save him. So warm and wet, and when you slam yourself down on him when you ride him it drives him crazy. If he's on top, he's pounding you so deep. He doesn't even mean to hurt you (a little bit of a lie), he just can't get enough of your insides. He feels great though, don't mistake that.

Once he figures out how to touch you properly, he is abusing his powers for evil

Will eagerly eat you out and suck on your tits. He's has a tiny oral fixation.

Tomura was a virgin before you. Not spiritually, but he'd never fucked anyone. Some stuff online and a criminal amount of porn, though? Yea

Thay first time came quickly (and so did he) because the day you met, there was a potent chemistry between you two.

He brought up the "peg" word first

He was a little anxious but he'd played with himself in that area in the past on himself. Not extensively, but he knew it was a place of pleasure for him

Admittedly it feels great for him if you're generous with lube but when you did it at first, it hurt like a bitch

It doesn't matter if you're tall or much shorter than him, he wants you to treat him like your little boy.

Caress him and coo to him. He needs you to tell him how special he is to you and how much you love him. He needs to hear how perfect he is for you, and that you accept him.

If you play with his hair, he might cry

Actually, on the topic of crying, you're probably the only person he'll cry around. And it's because he trusts you not to judge him or put him down for it. He also knows that he can come to you and that you'll hold him and be there to comfort him through it. His hatred and bottled up sadness cracks up and when you let him release it into your shoulder, ..sometimes the mommy word slips out

He has a huge fear that you'll leave him. And you'd have every right. He'd have all the power to finish you off. Tomura doesn't have that rage toward you, at least he doesn't believe or want that. That said, he usually ends up confiding in you, usually a little pissed, but ultimately, he's sad

"I lo-*hic*I love you*hic*I love you mommy.. *hic*??*hicc* d-do you hate me?? I'm sorry!! Dont leave"

Please reassure him that he's enough, and that you love him as he is

If you bless him with kisses all over his face he'll cackle like a little bitch

He'll retaliate and yell at you to "fuckin' stop!!" but when you do it's an instant "mommyyyy no come back!"

He loves just laying in bed and having pillow talk while you caress his face, hair, shoulders, back. He even loves you pulling at his waist. Fuck he just loves you when you love up on him, too

he finally has someone to care for him in a genuine, loving, adoring way.

He is such a goober around you and is very affectionate, but in front of his guys? It's complicated

He likes showing you off, yea. And he isn't afraid to give you a kiss or touch you around them. But that intimate, wholesome side of it? Noo. He needs his "don't fuck with me" reputation to stick.

He is clingy in an unhealthy way, too, and insecure. If you don't give him the right amount of attention, he's worrying about it. He begs you to tell him what he did wrong or if you hate him. If you're gone too long, he misses you so damn much!

If you call him simple things like "baby boy" or even "Tomura" in a sweet tone of voice, he will melt

He loves you

It's his absolute favorite thing if you wake him in the night and stroke his cock, kiss him all over his neck and tell him how pretty he is. His masculinity isn't that fragile, not when it's just you and him at least. He has a little bit of a somnophilia kink, receiving and giving

He wants to feel adored and cared about. Protected.

He'll protect you too! No one will ever lay a finger on his mommy, and if they do, it's game over

[lsjhl]

Nose in the Snow Pt.1

Parings:

Alcina Dimitrescu x Agender reader

Summary: Turning against your family was not on your 2024 bingo card but after a threat in the woods reveals itself you might win a prize.

Words: 1.3k+

The sharp edges of the metal cuffs cut into my wrists as I growl at my children and wife. I'm not sure why this is happening, but I know I'm scaring them. I feel like a passenger in a car flying down the highway knowing it will crash. 

Oh, I can see my sweet Bela wishing to come closer, I move back. I don't know what's happening but I do know I don't want to hurt my family.

– one week ago –

“er? oney? Y/N!?” I blink and look over to Alcina. “Yes, love?” I ask as I take in the worried expression she wears. 

“I asked if you were alright, you've been staring out of the window for some time now and while I know you love to bird watch, dear, there is no such evidence of life in the depth of winter right this moment” Alcina continues with her concerns.

I look at her still a bit fuzzy in the head and from behind my right shoulder, I hear my youngest of three. “Mother, you know father is crazy,” my dear Daniela says, and before Alcina can reprimand her for the unnecessary comment I ask something far more important than my faltering mind state.

“Who got to throw the dart?” 

A little backstory to this. You see in our world ravaged by the T-virus there will be a somewhat little chance that someone you know is infected. Either a small bit, enough to hold out longer than others if given a stronger dose, or fully infected. Umbrella was never good at keeping their dogs on a leash. 

So given that mutants and the savage bipedal we call humans live in one world together we have found ways to keep ourselves aligned.

For Alcina, that means breaking all our furniture or if caught fast enough having one of us take her to Heisenberg and having him allow Alcina to wreak havoc in his scrap yard. Anger issues, we all have ‘em.

My oldest, Bela, enjoys just finding a nice sunny spot and taking in some quiet time, it's impossible to reach her in the summer when she wishes to be alone. Not due to it being hard to find her but because I will strike for blood if someone dares bother my dear daughter. But I will relay a message. She does so much for this family, I will do anything in my power to get her downtime

Cassandra my middle child is big on throwing a mean right hook so boxing is right up her alley. She loves violence and gets it from her mother. But I do take credit for the care she puts into taking the proper measures to keep herself safe and having continued fun along with knowing the correct steps of taking good care of whatever weapon she uses.

And little daredevil Daniela loves to give her mother heart attacks by climbing anything she can get her callused grabby hands on. It’s a challenge trying to get her inside during the warmer months and winter is hell for both her and me. Her because she can't climb anything taller than about thirteen feet and me because I can’t allow her to climb anything higher than thirteen feet, I wish to give my daughters everything but I dont want her hitting her head on the ceiling in the library or getting to close to the openable skylight during the cold season.  

Gosh, how I love all of them for what makes them special, and they do for me too. Now while I might not have furniture slash face breaking anger or cat-like activities under my belt my family still counts one thing as The Thing™ that makes me special. I am not one to care for certain social roles and to make a long story short, I'm agender. This means that I experience and live through having no gender, so every morning, my wife or our three adorable kids will grab a dart and throw it at a modified dart board we had made that has sections labeled as Mom, Father, Momma, and Dad. The main reason for this was that I wanted my family to have an easy way to call me without having a stroke on thinking of what labels I might prefer. You can tell which it landed on today.

“I did!” little Daniela says proudly with a bright smile that falls as soon as she hears the next words out of her mother's mouth. “Daniela, what did I say about calling your father crazy?” Alcina goes off and while she does I turn my focus back to the window dissociating from my soundings trying to find the shadows at the edges of my mind. That is until I hear Daniela’s small “but he is” in terms of my mental state and wanting her not to feel bad I chime in with “I hear people in the walls” added with a goofy grin slapped on my face as I direct my look to be at my wife. 

She, of course, gives me an exasperated look, and with a roll of her eyes she puts down that claim with a “No, you dont.” Then looks me up and down with a flicker of worry and adds “You dont right?” I chuckle and softly say no as my smile morphs into something more natural and full of undying love rather than silly mischief. That is until I go back to my delusions, “I do think we have people hiding in the woods watching us” and before I allow that statement to sink in I continue “Or it’s like a bird or something, who knows” I finish with a shrug and an unbothered expression.

“What was it you were saying mother, about father not being demented?” I hear my oldest, Bela, say as she enters the library. They continue their talk on my fragmented brain and I now have my forehead against the glass of the window still lost in my mind thinking and re-thinking the same few things. Human, animal, shadow, crazy, crow? Birds, love, birds. So on and so on.

I feel my eyes move right and left as I look for the thing lurking in my wife's woods. I saw something, I'm always seeing something. God schizophrenia is a bitch.

 I'm going to go check it out.

I turn to the library doors and take one step before my last daughter steps in front of me to block my path. “Fathers lost again,” Cassandra says before I feel the strong hands that belong to my wife pick me up. “Oh Draga, are the woods bothering you this much?“ She says softly into my ear as she cradles me to her chest. I feel myself cut back into the current world and blink slowly once before looking up at Acina with an innocent face. “I'm okay but I do want to go look at the woods for a bit, just to settle myself.” She nods and goes to put me down, that is until we both hear Daniela and Cassandra whine.

“No fair, why does father get to be picked up?” Daniela says soon followed by her older sister adding “Yeah, I want to be picked up too” I chuckle and hold my hands up in a ‘calm down’ motion “Okay, okay. Once your mother lets me down I'm sure she’ll give you three a boost up” I look the tro over and see two enthusiastic head nods and one slow shy one from my sweet Bela.

Looking back at my wife I ask to be let down and with some hesitation, she does so. “I'm going to grab my boots. I'll be back in 10 minutes, okay?” I say while walking backward to the door. ”Be safe and do keep me updated if you find anything” Alcina says as our three little girls start climbing her like a tree and she gently swats at them.

Grabbing my boots and a heavy jacket I go out through the kitchen to find the thing or things that have been bothering me.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Cove Holden x Neurodivergent MC headcanons

I said I'd do this kind of post days ago, and finally, here it is!

First of all, a little reminder that "neurodivergent" is an umbrella term to talk about a large variety of "disorders", of divergencies. It doesn't stop to autism or adhd.

• If the MC have been early diagnosed, they will 100% spot Cove's autism, but will probably keep their suspicions for themselves because naaaah, it can't be that, maybe neurotypicals' brains are just not as weird as you though they were. But once Cove starts his researches on neurodivergency and autism, and talks to you about the possibility of him being autistic, it just... Make sense to you. You can't imagine him being anything else than a fellow neurodivergent. It was just obvious the whole time. And during the official diagnosis journey, your moms will definitely help by explaining to Cove how to contact a good professional, who he needs to be searching for, what are the papers he'll need to pass the test, etc... And will also comfort and reassure Clifford while he does his best to accept and understand his son's autism, and how he's not a bad father for not noticing the signs before.

• But if instead, the MC is late diagnosed, they will either understand they are neurodivergent while doing researches to understand Cove, or Cove will understand he's autistic while doing researches right after your diagnosis. There's no other scenarios, you two just want to understand each others so bad, when really you aren't that different. But once both of you are aware of your neurodivergency, it just makes sense that you've always understood each others so well and ended up together.

• Both of you forget stuffs constantly. Either it is dates, anniversaries, chores, or just objects everywhere in the house. The worst is when Cove looses his glasses. The two of you can spend hours circling around the house, looking everywhere and anywhere, even in the weirdest places of the house (like the fridge that you'll probably open quite a few times during the treasure hunt), before you look at Cove long enough to realize that his glasses are, in fact, on his head.

• You also have a big board in the house to prevent you both from forgetting important meetings, outputs or medical appointments. It works, but only half of the time.

• Both of you do chores whenever they remember to do them. You aren't asking to the other to do it and don't care much about who did the most chores in the day/week, since you both know that if you're waiting for the other to do it, there's great chances that you'll both forget it right away and it'll never be done.

• After spending so much time with one another, you took the habit to include the other in your stimming. Echolalia of course, but also especially hand stimming. It can be clapping each other's hand, tangling and untangling your fingers, or playing with them... The thing is, it now looks like you are both unable to function without each other. And of course it isn't really true, but you must admit that whenever you're apart from your partner, you feel a pinch in the heart when you start stimming and you have to do it all alone without someone's hand to play with.

• Over the years you ended up being able to follow each other's train of thoughts while you both zone out during a conversation, which makes it incredibly weird to others when you just stay silent for a moment, and then suddenly start to talk about a completely different and unrelated topic, as if it was the most natural sequel to the precedent conversation.

• You also ended up understanding each others whenever you say stuffs such as "where's the thing?", as if it was the clearest precision in the universe.

• You have a neurodivergent-friendly receipt book at home, with your favorite foods/textures highlighted, so you're always sure to not trigger negatively each other's texture sensitivity/sensory issues.

• If you have special interests and/or hyperfixations, you can be 100% sure that Cove will happily listen to your infodumps and will learn about your interests as much as he can. It even happens that he end up being dragged in it with you.

• He doesn't really say it, but he go feral internally when you try to lean and get involved in his own special interests. That's one of the most intimate and romantic things you could do, to his personal opinion.

• Both of you know the other's triggers and difficulties, and you look out for one another whenever you feel that a certain place, smell or situation may be uncomfortable to the other.

• You're also able to recognize pretty easily when the other go mute, and need silent time or to be left alone. One good point is that staying completely silent with one another doesn't cause any problem.

• If you ever consider having/adopting a child, one of the main point against this project would be that you're both scared to basically forget your child or to be unable to meet its physical/emotional needs correctly, because of your neurodivergencies.

[celestialsister0918]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Thanks for tagging me, @gammacousin!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either. (Copied and pasted)

Words and Fics

Word Count:

142,081

Fic Count:

6 started. 5 completed

Most Productive Month: February by far, thanks to Kinkuary!

Top Five by Hits

The One He Needs Right Now: Jim Gordon's Kinkuary: 5941

What I'm Thinking About (Sirius x Ginny): 3600

A Window Not Missed (Bruce x Nat): 2107

A Window Closed (Bruce x Nat): 1101

In the Sepulcher by the Sea (Sirius x Severus): 684

Top Five by Kudos

A Window Not Missed (Bruce x Nat): 96

What I'm Thinking About (Sirius x Ginny): 61

A Window Closed (Bruce x Nat): 47

In the Sepulcher by the Sea (Sirius x Severus): 32

The One He Needs Right Now: Jim Gordon's Kinkuary: 24

Fandom events:

Two @trulymadlydeeplyfest fests! 1 in February and 1 in October. Both Harry Potter. I'm so bad at knowing where all the fests are so those are my only two.

Upcoming Plans:

To Complete:

Finish "A Window Closed" (Bruce x Nat)

Start "A Window Opened" (Bruce x Nat)

Start "A Special Election" (Jim Gordon x NEW OC) - I have one chapter written and some dialogue prompts for chapter 2. I'm soooo excited for this one.

Other Ideas:

Continue one-off Sirius and other Gary Oldman character one-shots on Tumblr.

Write a Jackson Lamb piece

Maybe write a Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova one-shot if the mood strikes

Write another Gary Oldman RPF (many dialogue prompts already written). Here's my first Gary RPF if interested... it was set during the Dracula filming. The new one will be set after his divorce from Alex but before Gisele.

Reflection

I took a couple long breaks from writing this year. After finishing "Submissioner Gordon" in December of 2022, I was at a pretty bad low from lack of interaction with that fic. My heart has NEVER been in something as much as it was that fic, so to have so many hits and so little interaction made me think everyone hated it. Yet I continued the story with the Kinkuary prompts, where I wrote a short fic every day for 28 days. Again, I feel like it bombed.

At the same time, I made what I thought would be my last hurrah in the Harry Potter fandom, and it didn't do so great either. I was in a BAD spot comparing myself to other writers, so I took a long hiatus.

During that break, I started watching the entire MCU with my son, start to finish. My brain grabbed onto Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff and would NOT let go. So in May, I began publishing the "Never Say Never" series, where I try to fix their story.

The feedback from the Marvel fandom and Brutasha readers/writers really warmed my heart and got me back in the groove. I am forever thankful to them, because it truly restored my confidence in writing.

I will always be thankful for my Wizarding World series and the Submissioner Gordon/Daddy Issues universe, and my brain loves to revisit those stories and characters. It's just bittersweet because it never really found its audience. However the feedback I got from my foray into the MCU fandom has built my confidence enough that I am able to write in HP and Dark Knight without really worrying what others think. I am just doing it for me and my love for the characters. I know my writing isn't bad--- it's just not a lot of people's cup of tea.

I also want to give a shoutout to the small but steadfast Gary Oldman fandom I have found on Tumblr and Instagram. They've become very dear to my heart, and I love that we can share random thirst posts together when so many others just don't get it.

If anyone is reading this, please share your 2023 stats and reflections as well! I love writers supporting writers. Happy 2024 to you all!

[ancientdrm]

i'll be with you — PRINCE TOYA X KNIGHT AKITO

Honestly, all of the royals were all incredibly kind to him. Whether they were talking out of face or out of genuine interest, Toya did enjoy his time with the people he was introduced to.

But he really wasn't interested in any of them. Not in that way. He thought they were all nice, but he'd never willingly marry an of them. Toya couldn't find himself liking any of the princesses he was shown romantically, because...

"Oi." Akito flicked the prince's forehead, pulling him out of his thoughts.

———

A couple days have passed since the celebration of Aoyagi Toya's birthday.

Toya watched as the stars twinkled in the sky. Listened to the sounds of nature—the wind blowing between the trees, the river rushing down the stream, the crickets chirping from wherever they might be—anything that could calm his panicked mind.

May 25 has now passed. His family had given him such a big celebration for a such special age. They had invited many lords and princesses and other royals to the event, most were from powerful kingdoms that Toya didn't bother reading about.

Twenty-one. Toya Aoyagi, the crown prince of their kingdom, had just turned twenty-one.

It meant... It meant that....

"Prince Aoyagi? What are you doing here?"

At the sound of someone's voice, Toya flinched so intensly from his spot on the ground he might've ended up flying away. He quickly turned to the direction where the sound had come from. Who could've found him-?

"Oh."

The one who had found him wasn't just anyone. With his armour shining in the moonlight, Akito Shinonome—second-in-command of the castle guards, as well as being Toya's personal knight—stood before the prince.

"Akito... How did you realise I'd be here?"

"Gut feeling." Was all he said.

Akito walked closer, before plopping himself down on the space right beside Toya. His armor making light clanking noises as he did so. Somehow, just seeing the knight in front of him made every other noise in the night disappear. As if Akito had commanded everything to go silent by his presence.

(That's stupid, Toya knows. It's just his mind focusing on something else. Something more important than what the forest had to offer.)

"So," Akito began, leaning back against the wall behind them. He was looking at Toya from the corner of his eye. "What's got you down?"

"...Huh?"

"Don't play dumb." Akito turned his head towards the other. His brows were tight-knit, and his mouth was formed into a small frown. To anyone else, it might've been a rather intimidating expression. But Toya found it cute.

What?

"You haven't been looking good for the past couple of days. Also, the fact that you're here in the first place says something. You don't go here unless you have some big issue in that head of yours."

A small smile spread across Toya's face. Akito really knew him too well sometimes. But just as quickly as it came, his smile faded. His focus shifting back on to the looming darkness in front of them.

Akito didn't pester or push. He simply sat quietly beside Toya, waiting for a response. They sat and stared at nothing in particular.

One beat, two beats passed before Toya finally spoke.

"My birthday happened recently," He said.

He could tell Akito was a bit confused. Shouldn't a birthday be a good thing? was probably what he was thinking.

"During the party... My parents had invited many princesses. Introduced them to me, one-by-one."

"Ah." The knight caught on to what Toya was saying.

The prince hummed a low note. He gathered his knees up to his chest, his expression tightening as he continued.

"I could tell. I could tell just from their faces. They weren't just introducing those royals to me out of courtesy. They were looking at me. He was looking at me.

"'Pay attention,'" Toya deepened his voice in an imitation of his father. It bothered him, how easy comes to him. "'You'll be marrying one of these girls soon enough.'"

A shiver went down his spine just from repeating the message the king was sending him. It's not that any of the princesses he had met were bad or terrible. In fact, Azusawa was sweet and he's familiar with Asahina. Not to mention, Shiraishi was amongst the people "introduced", and he'd known her since their childhood.

Honestly, they were all incredibly kind to him, of all people. Whether they were talking out of face or out of genuine interest, Toya did enjoy his time with the people he was introduced to.

But he really wasn't interested in any of them. Not in that way. He thought they were all nice, but he'd never willingly marry any of them. Toya couldn't find himself liking any of the princesses he was shown romantically, because...

"Oi." Akito flicked the prince's forehead, pulling him out of his thoughts. Toya put his hands on the spot Akito flicked, a small flush spreading across his face. He gave the other a confused, and perhaps slightly annoyed, look.

The knight looked even more worried. "Stay with me, Toya," He said, bringing his hand down and instead held onto the prince's arm. If it were any brighter, Akito would've seen how much deeper Toya's blush got.

"Apologies."

"Don't worry about it."

The two fell silent again. Akito's hand still lingered on the other's arm. It felt like there was static in the same spot. It made Toya want to pull away from the touch, yet also get closer.

Maybe it was the late-night leading his next actions, but the prince leaned onto Akito's shoulder. His head laying comfortably in the crook of his neck.

The knight had noticeably tensed up, making Toya worry. Was that too much? Had he overstepped a boundary?? They do usually stay close to eachother, proximity wasn't usually an issue. But somehow this felt more intimate than all the times before.

Right as the prince was about to pull away and profusely apologise, Akito had relaxed himself. Not only that, but he wrapped his hands around him: one brushing Toya's hair, and the other on his back.

Wasn't this even more intimate than earlier!?

"I can't say I know what you're going through. Hell, I can't even wrap my head around the idea of marrying other than love."

Akito continued brushing Toya's hair. He was certain that the knight could feel how hot his face was right now. Toya tried to calm his breathing down, listening to Akito's voice as he continued speaking.

"But what I do know is, no matter what you do, and no matter what happens... I'll stay with you through and through. Got it?" He leaned closer to Toya, if that was even possible.

"I promised- I swore on my life that day. I would be with you until the day I die.

"You won't be alone. I'll make sure of it."

Toya tightened his grip on Akito. Maybe focusing on the voice now was also a mistake. Despite the cool air, it felt so warm in Akito's arms. Oh, how he wished he could stay there forever.

But he knew. He knew he couldn't. "Even if I devote my life to another person, you'd still stay?"

"Of course."

"Even if I talked back to my father, Even if I'm kicked out or- or exiled. You'd...?"

"No matter what happens."

Hah... Toya really didn't deserve Akito. He's way too nice to him.

"...You don't have to 'deserve' care, Toya. It's not something you earn that way."

"Oh," Toya mumbled in shock. Seems he said that out loud. He heard Akito sigh, before pushing Toya away from him. Still holding onto the crown prince by the arms.

"You better keep that in your head. I'll repeat it as much as I have to," Akito said, looking straight at Toya's eyes. "As long as you'll have me, I'll stay with you."

"And if I wanted that to be for forever?"

Akito smiled. "Then so be it."

His smile was always so charming, imperfectly perfect. His dimples would show, and his eyes would squint to the point of looking like they were closed.

Toya smiled back. Not his strained smile that he uses in public, but the one he reserves for the other. An improper and lopsided smile, one that showed his teeth.

They both giggled. Akito then stood up, letting go of Toya briefly, before extending his hand out to the other. The crown prince quickly took the offer, being lifted up to stand.

"Let's go back now? It's much past your bedtime, Your Highness," Akito teased lightly.

Toya didn't want to go back.

He knew, the moment that just happened would shatter the moment he entered the castle walls.

He knew that the future waiting for him... wouldn't be a happy one.

And even if Akito would stay by his side, it was just because of duty. Akito only cared for Toya because it was his appointed job as the crown prince's knight.

"Let's go."

Even though Akito promised, Toya knew. Their life would never be the way he wants it to be.

[v-v-void]

Realized today that my "special Interest" is also the thing I started researching daily because it was the only thing I could do that didn't completely piss my abusive ex of. The only thing I could do on my phone that wouldn't start shit. I couldn't talk to anyone without it being an issue. Playing games on my phone felt like... idk it made the days drag on. It made living life feel more like running on a hamster wheel and that didnt help my situation but it was a way to pass the time without setting him off. Mind you everything i set it him off abruptly. I had lost any interest in books. I couldn't write. I got a really nice paint set, pastels, water colors and an easel because art class was the only class I'd go to and passed. I didn't even get a chance to use it because I brought it to his house so I had something to do while he played his x box. But anytime I talked about wanting to try it, he would either make fun of me or tell me I wasn't any good anyways so why would my mom even get it for me. Still to this day. I'm obsessed with the way oil pastels feel in my hand. How smooth it goes on a canvas. The way you can blend them together and everything looks soft. The way you can change your strokes and the texture changes. Even the way it looks when you drag a paper towel across it. Ugh. I suck at art but I love it. Painting too. But pastels will forever hold a spot in my heart. And I haven't touched any since before I got the art supplies back then. It's the only thing I wish I went back for or asked someone to grab for me. But it wasn't worth it.

With that being said. It didn't matter what I did. His moods were so.. unpredictable..

Any who. Astrology. That was my thing

Never felt much like a Leo. Still don't most of the time. But at least now I know why. Now I see more than just the basic sun sign and I can never get enough. Still to this day.

I'll just sit here and save post after post and compare it to stuff I've already learnt. And yet I go blank when anyone asks about it because I'm afraid to sound stupid. The odd time someone asks and pushed for me to share a little.. I will go off on a tangent, get embarrassed, feel like I don't make sense and then I'll wish I kept my mouth shut and pretended I didn't know anything. At least then I wouldn't sound stupid because now I don't male any sense.

Fucking hell this guy messed me up. I'm afraid people will think I'm stupid for believing in it. I'm afraid I'll sound stupid or people pretend to care. Or they ask about it and I say I know alot and yet.. when asked.. I shut down. So how tf will someone believe me.

Same goes for when people ask about what happened and what he did to me behind closed doors.. I got told I had ptsd and I felt like that was absurd because he hadn't hit me.. the damage is so clearly there. And yet I still feel like people don't believe me. It's awful to say but I wish he hit me. Bruises heal... not this though. This dude lives in my head rent free and makes sure I'm terrified and second guessing everything and everyone. It's rare for me to feel calm. To feel comfortable. Or confident. I'm afraid to try because I don't feel good enough. I don't know myself because he turned me into a husk of a person. He fed on the power he had over me and I've tried to deny it but he still does. And I hate myself for that. I feel weak. And scared.. and just.. so fucking angry. How tf did I let someone who treated me the way he did, cause me to fuck up my education. And now I'm lost and stuck and I feel unsafe with everyone and don't know how to let anyone be here.. but I'm so tired and I just want to feel safe with someone again. Tf is wring with ne

[skellybonesandtrees]

Top 5-10 favorite video games?

Preamble to say the only consoles I ever owned were a Sega Genesis, as a kid, and I played a shit out of that with my sister. And an X-Box 360, where I mostly played one game I also owned on PC. I'm a PC gamer.

Going from how much play and replay time I got out of them

10. Bloons TD6 - A simple tower defense game, you can even play this on mobile. It's a fun time killer. Like most games, I feel like, if you're good at math, you'll do better at it. I'm not good at math. But I have fun. I always go back to it when nothing else works.

9. Darkest Dungeon - I actually only have 82.6 hours in this game but the only reason I don't play it more, is, again, I'm bad at math, and not good at it, but I really like it. It is the type of game where suffering is the point tho, so if you're into that, I recommend. Turn based RPG game. Really cool art too.

8. Orcs Must Die 2 - Another tower defense game, but this one is a blend with a shooter. It's quick paced and fun and the characters and orcs are funny. I love this one.

7. Frostpunk - Dystopian ice age city builder. The art is also amazing. Again...math...so...I do what I can...which usually means turning down difficulty but I still love it. It's a bit depressing but...I like that.

6. Banished - Medieval/Cononial periods inspired city builder. The base game is good enough, but I admit I can no longer play without one of he handful of massive mods that make it a lot more involved and rewarding. Also, I like going all agricultural age all over the map. Playing it right now in a borrowed laptop and enjoying it still.

5. Stardew Valley - At first glance I didn't think I'd enjoy it so much but I played the heck out of this during the first leg of the pandemic. There's a lot to do in this game, farming, animal husbandry, mining and killing monsters, making friends with locals, choosing one of the handful of dull villagers to tie the knots with, having babies who never grow up, meeting the wizard, finding the witch hut, sailing to an island with more crap to do. It's a lot of fun. One of the games I miss playing since my laptop broke again.

4. Don't Starve [Together] - Survival games have a special spot in my introvert, lonely heart and DS is one of the first I got into. It's got beautiful Tim Burton-esque art and funny characters and music and it was very spooky to me when I first played it. I probably played the co-op version, Don't Starve Together, longer, because I played it with friends as well as alone because it's doable and DST offers thing you don't have in the regular game.

3. Dark Souls - I actually only managed to get my hands on (it was a gift) this game and try it recently. I gave up multiple times because it's more than challenging. It's hard. Probably not for "pro gamers" but it was for me and I beat it the first time only with the help of a cheaty mod that let me turn down difficulty. I have played it the normal way several times since and it's definitely taught me to play defensively and to actually think about my moves more than any other game. I know it's an oldie, but I love it and miss it since the pooter when poof.

2. The Long Dark - Another survival game and possibly my favorite. You're alone in Great Bear Island (Canada). Probably alone in the world after a geomagnetic storm that took out electricity and nothing works anymore and the world is getting colder. There's a story mode but I actually never played it much, I play survival mode. You can make it as difficult or as easy as you want. It's challenging and you can die from hunger, from cold, from predators, all that good stuff! I am currently playing it in my borrowed pooter.

1. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - This one gets the first spot because I've played it, A LOT, in both PC and x-box 360. The replayability for me was great. I played it many times, trying different builds. And yes the game is buggy and glitchy as hell and it's got many issues, but I love it. I love the freedom it gave me to do what I wanted. It countered all of its weaknesses for me. I never had a beefy enough computer to play it with all the best mods, but I dream of the day I winthe lottery and buy the best PC to really beef up this game and play it all over again.

[thecurioustale]

Actually...Go Ahead and Use Your Vintage Corelle Dishes

(If They Were Made Since 1978)

Don't always believe what you read on the Internet—especially when it comes in the form of fear-mongering "Gotcha!" alerts like this the one in this thread.

What usually happens in the life cycle of this kind of information is that some "Oh no, CHEMICALS!!" weirdo misinterprets or misrepresents some relatively innocuous underlying fact about something and then makes a post about it that goes viral—and suddenly the entire Internet believes, say, that ordinary Cavendish bananas emit enough fast neutron radiation to drop a horse dead in its tracks. And you have endless exchanges online of holier-than-thou people swearing in their most holier-than-thou tones that it's utterly reckless and frankly a little bit monstrous to even have bananas in your house if you have children around, because some people aren't going to survive exposure to a banana simply because you did!

Anyway:

Such a scare happened with Corelle a few years ago, which is kind of a shame because Corelle is objectively superior as dishware to traditional ceramics, being much more stable in the microwave (i.e. resistant to spot-heating and cracking), much more durable, and much more lightweight. But someone somewhere found LEAD, and the whole misinformation how-do-you do played out as I just described, and is still echoing across the Internet today as seen in the fact that this post is still being reshared in 2024.

Vintage Corelle dishware like the types pictured above—which many of us Gen Xers and Millennials remember from our childhoods (in my house we had the Butterfly Gold and Spring Blossom Green patterns, and even today I have a plate of the former and a bowl of the latter)—contains trace amounts of lead in the decorations (e.g. the flower patterns, etc.). This lead is incorporated into the special glass that Corelle is made out of in such a way that it isn't on the surface of the dishware and won't meaningfully come into contact with your food unless the dish is broken or the decorative designs become breached open through abrasion, flaking, or chipping—and even then the amount of lead by mass is very small. But there's really no amount of lead, at detectable levels, that is safe for humans to ingest. So is the lead in these old dishes actually dangerous?

Good information on this is hard to come by for an amateur sleuth, because misinformation dominates the search results and cursory Google searching is the extent of most people's ability to verify a fact in 2024. You can't just buy a lead test kit and test these dishes yourself, because most test kits aren't suited to this kind of application. (Some people online who tried to do their own DIY sleuthing got tripped up by this.) You also can't use the X-ray fluorescence method that the apparent originator of this misinformation (Tamara Rubin) used because it doesn't accurately capture the amount of lead that is in danger of coming into contact with food, and thereby yields ludicrously high and substantively false results. Not that the vast, vast majority of people are going to do their own tests anyway.

Snopes, the information-checking website, covered a lot of the contours of the misinformation in the meme in their evaluation. There are also some interesting discussions deep in the indentations of this Reddit thread. If you know what to look for, these is some good info in both of these resources. I didn't find any good leads on Google Scholar.

The company that presently makes Corelle eventually got wind of this meme a couple years ago, and issued a statement at the time that has since been widely incorrectly repeated to say that the Corelle people themselves agree that older Corelle dishes should only be used as decorative pieces, not for eating on. They didn't say that: They said that they were going to conduct independent testing. Luckily, since we live in 2024 and 2024 is the future, this testing has since taken place, and their website FAQ now says that the testing showed that the lead levels on Corelle back to 1978 are within even the modern limits, and that this dishware is fine to use for eating.

(Stuff older than that may be fine too, but I couldn't find any data and Corelle picked 1978 as its cutoff so that seems like a reasonable lead to follow, as they presumably picked that year for a reason, and that presumed reason could potentially be relevant to the lead availability.)

Now, I know we don't trust corporations very much here on Tumblr, but my own well-honed bullshit detection system takes this particular claim at face value. The makers of Corelle have an awful lot to lose by misrepresenting the safety of vintage Corelle (in the form of lawsuits), and nothing to gain (as all modern Corelle is essentially lead-free and there is no danger to sales).

If you want to "be on the safe side," then, sure, don't eat off the vintage Corelle. But here's the problem with that, and here's why this is about more than just dishes:

Hearing a rumor, and then, in lieu of definitively knowing the truth, choosing to heed that rumor, is often a counterproductive heuristic in life. For one thing, it's a vector for misinformation, bigotry, and social control. It makes you a lot easier to manipulate, both as an individual and as a member of a group. It does a severe disservice to whatever or whomever the rumor slanders—potentially even rising to the level of real harm. It also overvalues your field of awareness, causing you to be responsive to the rumors you've heard but not the ones you haven't—which raises the question of the effectiveness of your decision-making methodology. (Imagine putting out a small fire while a much bigger one rages behind you.)

It sounds so pragmatic: Someone said something bad about vintage Corelle, and it's no skin off your back either way, so to be safe just quit using it. But, as a student of human nature, I warn you that such a mentality is difficult to compartmentalize such that you only use them in inconsequential scenarios like this one. What's more likely to happen is that practicing this manner of decision-making will train you to do it more often, precisely because it is so convenient and practical. I think we should be wary of setting those kinds of precedents in our judgment.

Also, FFS get out there and buy some (modern) Corelle! If you've never used this stuff before, you are in for a real treat. I've slowly transitioned out most of my ceramic dishware over the years in favor of Corelle. But most people don't seem to know about it anymore; it was big back in the day but these days "Cheap!" is the top commandment in commerce, and traditional ceramic dishes are cheaper. Corelle and the company that makes it are sort of just limping along, barely still in business. It's just one more instance of people 50 years ago figuring out how to live better than what we know today.

Well, notwithstanding all the lead! 😂

[yellowharrington]

-- illicit affairs

pairing: steve harrington x afab!reader (she/her pronouns used)

warnings: smut. unprotected party sex, oral sex (m receiving), dislike of nancy wheeler, revenge sex.

word count: 3.1k+

a/n: i don't hate nancy, but someone has to be the scapegoat LMAO i hope u enjoy this ficcy <3

summary: you and nancy used to be friends, but you challenge yourself to take the one thing she can't get: steve harrington.

It had been a few years since you’d graduated Hawkins High, but like many others in the small town, you’d stuck around with no big plans. Some had left to prestigious colleges, or to faraway cities to explore. However, tonight, a lot of them seemed to be stuffed into Chrissy Cunningham’s exorbitant home, complete with a bright blue pool and balloons adorning the walls. It was her birthday, on a warm summer evening in mid July. She was wearing a short pink dress, standing outside by the pool with a drink in her hand. Behind her stood Nancy Wheeler, sipping on a cup of punch, wild eyes darting around the crowd as she gossiped with one of her friends. 

It wasn’t that you and Nancy were enemies, per se, but you’d competed for everything since you met. You never used to dislike her.

Since middle school, you and Nancy had had a lot of the same interests. Best friends, joining everything together. When she wanted to try cheerleading, so did you. When she joined math club for extra credit, you followed right after her. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if she hadn’t beaten you out of every single thing you’d tried all the way through to the end of senior year. 

Nancy made cheer team first, while you got cut first round. She was the math club’s top performer. She did dance, swimming, art… and she was great at them all. It was sickening.

However, the one thing you’d had was photography. The school’s yearbook club had one opening for senior year, for someone to take lead of the team and put together the ultimate book for Hawkin’s graduating class. It was the perfect opportunity for you, something to make your final year at Hawkins High special.

Until Nancy decided, the summer before, that she suddenly loved photography. And she was going for the lead. 

It was classic Nancy, to swoop in and decide that this was her “dream” without any experience. Her dad had bought her a fancy camera, much nicer than yours, and she’d spent the summer following whichever boyfriend of the month around and taking candid photos of him wherever she could.  

When Nancy had gotten the last spot on the yearbook team, you’d sworn off your friendship. One screaming fight in her bedroom that ended with you storming down the street with hot tears streaming down your face was enough to know things would never be the same. 

And there she was, at the same party as you. A few feet away, most likely gossiping about you to whatever random girl would listen to her whining. 

You’d taken to becoming friends with Eddie, spending a lot of the time playing D&D with him in your senior year, now mostly wasting the summer days with him relaxing and smoking in the sun. 

Eddie knew about your problems with Nancy, listening intently on the foot of your bed most nights, allowing you to air your grievances. But Eddie often had bad solutions to these issues, jokingly suggesting putting shaving cream in her locker or stealing her gym clothes.

“Look at her over there,” you snipped, sipping on a cup of punch that had way too much alcohol in it. “Who does she think she is?” You looked back at Eddie, who was confused. 

“She’s not even doing anything,” he said, almost under his breath. You punched him in the arm, suggesting that he’s missed the point entirely. “Ow.”

“She’s just so smug. Just people watching and judging everyone. Like, what the fuck?” You made brief eye contact with her, as a smirk played on her lips. She then whispered something to the girl she was speaking with, and they shared a giggle. She bid you a small sarcastic wave, before disappearing inside the house. 

“If you hate her so much, just fuck her boyfriend,” Eddie laughed, taking a long drag from the joint nestled between his two fingers. “Is she still seeing that Jonathan kid?”

You took the joint from Eddie’s fingers, putting it between your own lips. “He’s weird,” you laughed. “And I don’t think they’re dating anymore. She keeps trying to fuck Steve Harrington, even though they broke up years ago and had some crazy fight.”

Eddie laughed. “So go fuck him then.”

For once, Eddie was making sense, despite his glazed over eyes and drugged out disposition. “That’s an idea.”

“He wouldn’t say no,” Eddie shook his head. “Isn’t he here? Go find him, make a big spectacle of bringing him upstairs, and fuck his brains out. If I don’t hear you screaming his name, I’ll be disappointed.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, scanning the crowd for Steve. When you found him, you were pleasantly surprised. 

He’d cleaned up a lot since high school. He now kept his hair shorter, pushed back on his head and out of his face. Polo shirts and light blue jeans adorned his figure, outlining all the best parts. He was in the kitchen sipping the same bright red punch as you. 

“Alright, I’ll accept the challenge.” You gave Eddie back the joint, offering him a nod before making a beeline towards the inside of the house.

Steve was talking to an old classmate of his, not seeming super interested in the conversation. He was looking down into his cup, anxious to find something else to focus on. You approached rather slowly, catching Steve’s attention. You noticed his eyes rake in your figure slightly, pupils dilating and eyes widening.

His friend bid him goodbye with a small wave, disappearing back into the throngs of people dancing and drinking. 

“Hey,” you offered, awkwardly. “Hey!” His enthusiasm was rather confusing, but you weren’t complaining. This might be easier than you thought. 

“Been a while,” you lamented. “Whatcha been up to these days?”

“Not much,” he laughed, somewhat defeatedly. “Working a lot. Not going to college. The usual.” you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, same here. Kinda feels weird being around all these people from high school and not doing any of the normal stuff.” He hummed, taking another small sip of the punch. His lips were stained red. 

“Who made this shit? It’s basically just vodka.” You giggled a little at that, a gentle high washing over you. There was a comfortable silence for a moment.

“You seeing anybody, King Steve?” You drew out the nickname, knowing he’d probably cringe. He did. 

“Not so much King Steve anymore,” he seemed a little hurt, judging by the unusually gentle tone of his voice, obviously insecure about his lack of action post-high school. “Haven’t been seeing anyone for a while now.”

You nodded, stepping a little closer to him. He still smelled like hair spray, but also like a woodsy cologne that fit him very well. 

“That’s too bad,” you grabbed the hem of his jacket, playing with it lightly. “I can’t imagine why, you’re still King Steve to me.” He swallowed thickly, suddenly becoming very aware of your presence. Your dress was short, perfume strong, the smell of weed and fruit on your breath. 

“Yeah?” His head dipped down, height almost meeting yours. “That’s nice of you to say.” 

“If you want, we can go upstairs to… talk a little more. Since it’s been so long. S’loud down here.” Your finger looped around his belt, his honey eyes meeting yours. “You know, if you’re into it.”

It was strangely easy to flirt with Steve, especially because it was so low stakes. Whatever happened, happened. 

“Yeah, I mean…” his voice seemed quiet against the music. “I’d be really into it.” 

A smile spread across your face as you took his cup and put it on the kitchen island. You wordlessly took his hand, pulling him through the crowd of people. Some seemed to take notice that Steve was going upstairs with you, others too drunk to care. 

The girl Nancy had been talking with earlier noticed as you and Steve padded up the stairs, passing by the other people having conversations.

The door to one of Chrissy’s guest bedrooms was left ajar, prompting you to push it open. The bed was made with fresh linens and throw pillows, a few cups strewn on the night stand and floor. Some people stood outside, not caring too much that you pulled Steve inside and closed the door. 

You left the lights dimmed, as Steve sat on the end of the bed. His hands spread across his knees, looking a bit awkward. You sat next to him, your thigh touching his, skin against denim. 

The air in the room was thick with tension, both of you knowing what was going to happen. “So, it’s been a while,” you laughed, letting your body lean on his. “No Heidi L, or Tammy, or Sarah? No Nancy anymore?”

He was breathing heavily, as you put your hand on his and relocated it to the soft skin of your bare thigh. “Not my type anymore,” he let out a small laugh. “Not into them.”

You opened your legs slightly, letting your hand lay atop his. “What’s your type then, Steve?” Your faces were coming closer together now, as you were almost whispering on his lips. “Am I your type?”

You felt him shudder, before pushing himself forward to press your lips together. He answered by taking his hand and sliding up the side of your face, deepening his kiss and letting his body roll against yours slightly. 

Steve was needy, and it was unfortunately very obvious that it’d been a while since he’d gotten laid. The bulge in his jeans was growing rapidly as he pawed at your breasts over your dress, his tongue wet against the inside of your mouth. He was playing dirty, not that you particularly minded, given the show you were planning on putting on for him. 

When he finally laid you down on the bed, he was red-cheeked and out of breath from kissing you. He had pouty pink lips, slick and puffed from kissing, as his body hovered over you. You looked up at him through thick lashes, smirking and pulling the collar of his shirt down to force your lips to meet again. 

His hand pushed the hem of your dress up, prompting him to help you pull it over your head. Your tits were exposed to the cool air conditioned room, as he pulled off his own shirt and discarded it to the ground.

Steve was pretty in the way boys generally were; deep cut jawlines and little soft tummies, spots of stubble under the chin and freckles peppered across shoulders. He had milky pale skin, calloused hands and a strong grip as he slipped you over to be on top. All bravado, ego, sex and wholesomeness rolled into one. 

Your legs came around his waist as you rutted down on his denim, enjoying the feeling of the rough fabric over your thin underwear. You couldn’t lie - you were enjoying yourself more than you’d expected to, because Steve knew his way around a good make-out session. 

His large hands ran up along your back, your mouths struggling to maintain the integrity of your kisses. They were becoming sloppy, tongue against tongue, breath against breath.

“Can I fuck you?” Steve asked, softly against your mouth. Normally it wouldn’t have been enough foreplay for you, but that wasn’t the point. You just wanted to do this, see the look on Nancy’s face when you left the bedroom together, and probably avoid Steve Harrington for the rest of your life.

“Yeah,” you were breathless, taking a minute to look into his eyes. He looked needy, desperate, and you mentally prepared yourself for a moment. 

You positioned yourself on top of him after he took his jeans off, letting his hard cock press up against your underwear. 

“You wanna fuck me, Steve?” You asked, slightly louder than he was expecting. He looked a little red, embarrassed, before nodding in response. 

You grabbed at him, pressing his cock into you slowly. You sunk down on him, letting a long, loud moan fall from your lips. You knew people could hear, and given you weren’t secretive about hiding your little rendezvous, you were hoping a few people would start talking about what was going on. 

“Oh, Steve! Fuck me!” You screamed, exaggeratedly. He looked slightly confused, but you were rutting down on him so well, he could barely get a word out. 

You started to bounce on him, skin slapping against skin, the moans he was eliciting out of you becoming louder and louder. You could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door as you rode him vigorously, letting your body take over as his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. 

“Hey,” he finally said, with a swift slap to your ass. You stopped, allowing his full length to bury itself inside you as he bottomed out.

“Stop faking it,” his voice was earnest, but stern. It was dark and you were taken by surprise at his slightly dominating energy.

“I know how to make you come, alright? Don’t try that with me,” You took a deep breath in, feeling embarrassed, and going red in the face. “I know what I’m doing.”

You swallowed thickly, letting the awkwardness fade. 

“Keep riding me,” he instructed, manually moving your hips with his hands. You began to grind against him, focusing instead on the feeling instead of putting on a show. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, sheepishly. 

“It’s ok,” his voice was soft again. “I wanna make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.”

You nodded wordlessly, leaning down to capture his lips with yours. His tongue ran across the seam of your lips, as you deepened the kiss and let him take over.

His hips began to roll against yours, allowing you to grind your clit on his pelvic bone and create friction there. 

“Steve,” you breathed out softly onto his lips, letting yourself get lost in the moment. He nodded, going a little faster, picking up the pace to match with your body’s natural rhythm. His breaths were getting heavier, his eyes locking into yours, pupils blown with arousal.

“I wanna make you come, are you close?” He asked so softly, yet so domineering, it almost made you release right then and there. 

All you could manage to do was nod, feeling the knot of tension in your stomach begin to unravel. 

You began to clench around him, watching as he kept his pace perfectly. “Oh, fuck, Steve,” you let out softly, for real this time. Truly unravelled, breaking apart in front of him. 

“I know you like this,” he whispered, dirty and deep in your ear. His lips were hot. “You like how everyone can hear us, huh?”

Your orgasm suddenly washed over you, letting out moans into his mouth. He nodded, pieces of hair flopping over into his eyes. He tugged lightly at your hair, exposing your throat and planting sloppy kisses there. He sucked a small hickey just below your ear, a secret between the two of you. 

“Sound so pretty,” he kissed your earlobe as you came down, his cock still buried deep inside of you as his thrusts slowed. 

“Lemme finish you off,” you smiled devilishly, pulling your body off of his and placing yourself between his legs. He glistened with your juices, as you took the head of his cock into your mouth and began to work the tip. 

He let out a long breath, screwing his eyes shut. His hand came down to interlace his fingers with yours, while your other hand wrapped around him.

Your tongue worked along the shaft as spit coated his hard length, speeding up as whiny moans started to fall from his pink lips. 

He looked down at you, as you looked back up at him under thick lashes. When his eyes met yours, you felt his cock twitch in your hand as his warm cum spurted on your tongue, cock thrusted into your throat.

You swallowed him down, continuing to suck the head until he was far too sensitive, his hand lightly pulling his spent cock from your puffed lips. He slapped the tip on your tongue a few times, before you sat up to wipe the side of your mouth, then sitting up on the edge of the bed. 

He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, sitting up at the edge of the bed with you. Your hair had become messy, the hickeys he’d left starting to turn from red to purple, mascara smudging under your eyes. 

Your eyes met his as he caught his breath, forcing himself to be quiet as you watched under the door as people dispersed. Obviously, some people had been very interested in what you and Steve were doing. 

“Do you think they heard us?” He laughed, pushing a hand through his hair and out of his face. When he turned to look at you, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh and bump your forehead into his bare shoulder. 

“Maybe a little.” He got up to grab his clothes from the floor, throwing you your dress and underwear that had been discarded earlier. “You live up to the reputation, y’know.”

He seems a bit startled. “I don’t have a reputation,” he laughed, while a blush fell over his cheeks. “Just rumours from high school.”

“Now you’re trying to bullshit me.” You laughed, stepping back into your dress. “You know what people say.” 

He smiled, the most sincere half smile he could muster. “Thanks.”

You were both fully dressed now, standing across from each other. 

“Thanks for, uh, finishing me off like that…” he said awkwardly, scratching at the nape of his neck. “None of my exes ever swallowed.”

You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as you stifled a small laugh, kissing his cheek before stepping away from the door. “You first.”

He gave you a small wave before slipping out of the door, meeting a small group that had obviously been listening in.

You exited the room a few minutes later, hoping time had allowed Steve to slip back into the crowd before your departure. 

When you left the room, a few prying eyes watched as you pulled down your dress and walked down the stairs. The party was still in full swing, it wasn’t as if everyone was looking at you, but a few prying eyes were following you as they whispered to other friends over their drinks.

Nancy stood near the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide when they met yours. She looked angry, red in the face, embarrassed at the few laughs that she was earning.

When you passed her on your way out, you wiped the back of your hand dramatically, still feeling Steve’s slick on the corner of your mouth. 

She opened her mouth to make a snide comment, before you put your finger up to stop her in her tracks. 

“I won.”

[bluecookies02]

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

Ko-Fi | Patreon 

[kookieswan]

CANDIII I SAW YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND I'M IN THE MOOD FOR ULTIMATE ANGSTY FLUFF AND NO ONE DOES IT BETTER THAN YOU ♥️🥺

I was wondering if i can request something angsty fluffy with Jimin... Like, the reader is super independent, never asking for help even if they need it, believing the best way to accomplish a task or dealing with any emotion is to do it by themselves. And one day while they are trying to deal with something on their own jimin tries to help and while talking to them he says something along the lines of "You don't have to do this alone," and that kind of becomes the breaking point for the reader cause no one ever said this to them or showed this sentiment to them??!

Also if i come up with some more can i send them in?? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻, I've just been in very angsty fluffy mood these days 😔!

Here's an otter cause i adore them (hope you like them too), hope your day is going fabulous, love ya ♥️♥️♥️

Breaking Point

Jimin x Independent!Reader

Word Count: 759

Genre: College!AU, fluff, slight angst.

Your chosen barista: Jimin 🐥

You poor thing. It sounds like you’re having a hard time, but I’ve got something special for you! A nice fresh cup of chamomile tea with a dash of honey and a sugar cookie on the side. I hope this helps raise your spirits beautiful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A nightmare. This report is nothing but a nightmare. You’ve been sitting in the universities library for hours now, trying to figure it, knowing that you can if you apply yourself. It’s late enough now that no one’s really around, just you and the thoughts that are currently eating you alive.

The only saving grace of this situation is Jimin; he texted you earlier after dance practice, saying that he’d come pick you up. He’s honestly the sweetest, always there when you need him even if you try not to. Something catches the corner of your eye as you bite in the Weser of your pencil, and you let out an internal sigh of release as you spot him jogging up the steps.

“Hey! Whatcha working on cutie?” Jimin rounds the corner of the library, loud whisper echoing through the otherwise quiet room. You give him a small smile, gesturing to the large number of papers in front of you dramatically. Things may be shitty right now, but at least he’s here.

“Just the lab report from earlier in the week. I forgot to get it done and I’m having some issues with the math.” Your boyfriend moves to stand beside you, dropping his own backpack by the edge of the table. He leans in, pushing his freshly bleached blond hair out of his face as his eyes roam. Jimin looks so effortlessly handsome while you likely look like a train wreck right now.

“I can help you out with it, I already turned mine in yesterday so it should be a breeze.” You’re still pouty about the fact that he has the same class as you, just a different section. Joining his was a no go though, the damn thing filled up in what seemed like seconds. Sighing, shake your head, knowing you can finish this on your own… Probably. He has enough on his plate, you don’t want to add to it.

“You don’t have to Min, I can figure it out myself. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long, I promise I’ll be done soon and we can head home after I finish it.” If you finish it. All of the words are blending together, nothing making any sense as you try to read the next portion. You barely register Jimin sitting down beside you, and hand resting on your shoulder, feather light.

“… You don’t have to do this alone baby. I want to help you, really. Helping you, being there for you is never a burden to me, okay?” Something in your mind snaps and it’s your breaking point. The blurriness of the pages increase until you can’t see anymore. A tear drips down your cheek, then another, then another rolls down, hitting the forgotten paper of the report as you hunch over. Jimin’s wrapped around you almost instantly, holding you gently enough as if not to shatter you fully.

“Shh, hey it’s okay sweetheart, don’t cry. I mean it, I’ll always be here for you. I’d help you write a million reports, a billion even just to be by your side.” A tiny, wet giggle escapes you as you sniffle, wiping your face on the edges of your sweater. Looking to Jimin shyly, his eyes crinkle, face bright as the sun. He swipes a few of the stray tears offyour cheeks quickly, looking beefy endeared if not a little sad.

“How about this, we’ll stop for some coffee or tea on the way home and have a movie night! The report isn’t due for a few more days anyway, so I can help you tomorrow. How does that sound? Just you and me and a nice soft bed.” Snuggling in closer to him, you nod against his neck as his hand rubs up and down your back, plump lips leaving chaste kisses against your head.

You unwrap yourself slowly, watching as he gathers everything up for you, putting all your stuff away without question. He picks up his bag, then yours as you try to protest, giggling out that he’s a strong boy and can handle it. The final thing he grabs for is your hand, fingers wiggling as an invitation to hold on, so you do. You hold on as tightly as you can.

“Thank you Minnie… For always helping me out even when I don’t ask for it.” He hums, softly pulling you toward the door of the building. You follow willingly, completely enamored by the charming man.

“It’s really my pleasure sweetheart. I’d do anything to spend my time with you.”