#cryin in public over each other

[frobbybrainrot]

[yukichosodrink]

What pleasure is

Pairings: Daddy's friend!Toji x reader

C/W: jealous toji, reader is a kinda a brat?, rich reader, car sex, older toji, reader is aged up ofc, public sex, marking?? riding, multiple orgasms, cryin, cig burning

A/N: guys its been so so long since i wrote but i honestly dont have any ideas PLS PLS give me some ideas pls drop some ideas.

You've gotten used to seeing Toji, your daddy's friend everyday. He was visiting during the summer. His muscular figure sprawled out on the couch, watching TV giving you casual greetings and pet names. You've grown to like those fleeting glances he gave you, knowing well that you were doing the same.

You made my way over to your daddy, who was dressed in his sweatpants, lazily sitting on the couch watching TV with Toji. "Daddy." You said carefully, sitting down.

"Honey." your dad smiles, ruffling your hair. "How are you?" he asked, his green eyes on the tv.

Toji glances over at you for a moment, before he continues to watch the tv, a cigarette behind his lips. "There's this..party tonight and all my friends are going." You started.

"What kind of party?" your daddy furrowed his brows. Toji was silent, watching the tv as he took one long, slow drag of the cigarette between his lips, before exhaling, letting the smoke out.

"Uhm, you know average college parties? I was thinking if I could go too-" You said hoping to convince him but he cut you off.

Your dad's gaze was firm. "Absolutely not." he said with a scoff. "No way in hell." Toji's gaze remains the same, his eyes still glued to the tv. "Why not? I'm an adult- Toji say something" You said looking over at Toji helplessly, hoping he would help you out.

Toji's gaze flicks to you when he hears you say 'say something', and he gives a faint smirk and a chuckle, before shaking his head.

"He's right, doll." Toji says gently, his smirk still on his lips as his eyes go back to the tv. "You're not going, and that's final."

"Why not?" you whined looking at daddy.

Your dad glared at you. "You're too young for drinking, and there's gonna be drugs, and alcohol, and men." he scowled, shaking his head. "They're gonna take advantage of a girl who's so easy to handle like you."

Toji let out a chuckle from the side, putting the cigarette between his lips. You groan and make your way upstairs, mentally deciding that if they won't let you go, you would sneak out. You go upstairs, and your dad's eyes follow you around before he let out a deep exhale, running his hand through his hair. Toji glanced back at you as you walked upstairs, before looking back at the tv, exhaling another long drag of his cig.

-----

At 10 pm, you sneaked out in your mini black dress through the window, sitting in your friend's car while they all cheered and hooted, expressing their excitement and blasting songs in the car. As soon as you reach, Your friends grabbed you and they all went to the dance floor, dancing to the music.

The lights were dimmed in the building, the music was blaring, and people were either chatting and dancing or drinking with each other. A male friend of yours grasped both of your hands into his, moving his hands up to your hips to grasp them. He grinned down at you, the drinks kicking in as he looked down at you, spinning you infront of him.

Your other friends were giggling and clapping, smiling. The song changed into a slow, sensual song, and your friend took that as an opportunity to hold you close, his hands on your hips as he moved his hips to the music. His mouth pressed against yours as he kissed into your mouth, his body pressing up against you. One hand remained on your hip, while his other had rested on the small of your back, keeping you close.

"I-I think we should stop.." You slurred out, trying to free yourself from his grasp.

"But we only just started." he grinned, and he tried to close the gap between your lips and his again. But before it was even possible, you felt a cold, strong, firm hand grasp the back of.

"I think she said back off." Toji's voice was heard behind you, and the sound of it sent chills down your own spine as your eyes widened. "T-Toji?" you said turning back face to face with the man.

Toji's cold gaze was cold as ice as he stared down at your friend, his gaze burning into your friend's eyes. Your friend gulps as he stares up at Toji, his face pale, and he slowly takes a step back from you as he stares at Toji.

"How did you- how did you find out?" you said as soon as your friend was gone, a wave of fear rushing in your body.

"You thought you could fool me, doll?" Toji's eyes flicked back and forth, his gaze burning into yours. "I noticed you sneaking out of the house. You think I'm that stupid that I wouldn't have noticed that?"

Toji grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the party and towards his car as he pushed you into the passenger seat, shutting the car door. As he got into the driver's side, he slammed the car door and put the car in drive, before driving off into the night. He drove without a word, his knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the steering wheel.

"What were you thinking, doll?" Toji's voice was rough and stern, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, his jaw tightening as he spoke.

The car came to a stop at a red light, and Toji glanced over at you for a moment. "Going to a party by yourself in that tiny dress, what did you expect to happen?"

You looked down in your lap. "i didn't knew he would- i mean.." you said, your lips swollen from all the kissing.

Toji grit his teeth at the sight of your lips, before he looked forward again as the light turned green, and he continued to drive.

"Of course he would. Every man would." he said, his voice growing more and more cold and rough with each word he spoke. "You think those college boys would know how to treat you the right way?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "They won't even know how to make you finish."

you looked down at your lap, a bit ashamed because you knew that was right, they didn't know how to please a woman, all they care about is finishing themselves.

Toji's eyes flicked to yours again for a moment, noting the blush on your cheeks, before he continued to speak. "They won't know how to hold you, or how to kiss you, or how to touch you." he shook his head, scoffing again.

"And you do? you know how to please a woman?" You said testing your luck, the alcohol must make you really brave to say such a thing.

Toji's eyes darkened slightly at your words, and a smirk slowly formed on his lips as he glanced to you. "Oh, I know how to drive a woman wild, doll." His tone was suggestive and rough, as if daring you to challenge him.

"oh really?" you said, your voice coming out more seductive than you meant for it to be.

A suggestive chuckle escaped his lips as he glanced at you, his smirk widening. "Doll, the things I'd do to you would make you scream my name over and over again, until your voice gives out."

"prove it then."

A cocky, teasing smirk tugged at Toji's lips as he let out a chuckle in response to your challenge. He turns the car sharply, stopping it in an empty parking lot.

"Oh, doll. You want a preview?" he raised his eyebrow, before glancing over at your legs. "Unbuckle your seat belt."

You hesitated looking around "i-in public?" you didn't know Toji was serious, after all you were joking.

His words were firm and commanding as he spoke, his eyes flicking to yours and giving you a firm stare.

"I said, unbuckle your seatbelt." he repeated himself, his voice going a little rougher this time. Your heart beat a little faster in your chest in response to his commanding tone, and you found yourself hesitating for a moment. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw the dark desire in them as he spoke, and something about it made you feel almost compelled to listen to him.

Slowly, you reached down to unbuckle your seat belt, your breath hitching in your throat as you did so. "Good girl." he grinned, his words sending a shiver through your spine. "Lean your seat back." he commanded, his voice rough and firm as he gave the order.

"Look at you, waiting for your next Command like a good girl." he smirked as he spoke, his eyes darkening as he glanced over at you. "You're such a good girl, aren't you, doll?"

His fingers reached your thigh, slowing crawling up to your underwear, he touched the lacy material chuckling to himself,"Is that a thong?"

You looked away in embarrassment as you heard him chuckling darkly. "If you were that desperate, you could've just came to me, you know?" With one swift motion, he took off your thong, throwing it in the backseat of the car.

"Now, let me show you what pleasure is." He said as he dived his face right into your cunt, biting into your thigh, hard enough to draw blood. His tongue starts working at your clit, lapping up the juices. You cried out, your hands on his hair pulling at the locks.

"Tooooji" You cried out, tears forming in your eyes. His both gripped your thighs, nails digging into the flesh as he devoured your pussy. He looked up at you, making eye contact his eyes lidded with lust and passion. His hands reached for his pockets, and he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, pulling out on cig.

His hands reached for the lighter, kept in his car lighting the cigarette, and he took a puff, blowing the smoke into the car.

"W-what are you doing?" you said, leaning up watching him draw the burnt cigarette closer to your pussy.

"Hm? What's wrong?" Toji coos as he looks at you, while smirking. "'m gonna mark this pussy, make it mine." He said, putting the half burnt cig on your skin, the contact making you flinch at first, rolling back your eyes.

"There." Toji coos,"You're mine now, doll." He slaps your thigh harshly, leaving a red mark.

"Ride me like a good girl now, hm?" He said as he positioned you on his lap, pulling down his pants, his huge, no. giant cock, leaking red red with precum leaking out of the tip.

"I-It's too big- I don't think it will fit-" you cried out, seeing his cock. He chuckles mockingly,"Aw, what's wrong, doll? Never seen a cock this big? Them college boys don't have it?"

"You're gonna make it fit." He said, sliding you down on his cock as your cried out lewdly, moaning his name. You feel full, so full. You feel it in your abdomen, his hand gripping your waist.

"Take this dress off." Toji said half annoyed, as his hands pull the hem of your dress over his shoulders, leaving you in your bra. His hands work on your bra, he opens the hook with just one hand, freeing your breasts. Toji grabs your breasts roughly, his rough, calloused hands on your breasts squeezing and pulling at them.

He spits on your breasts, kneading the skins with his hands. You cry out in pleasure, and he begins moving, slapping his hips against yours. His hands are on your hips, helping you bounce on his cock.

"A-AH im gonna-" you cry out, gripping his shirt. Noticing that you're fully naked while he still has his shirt on. He chuckles mockingly,"Already cumming?" He said, gripping your hips harshly, as you bounced up and down on his cock, your breasts bouncing, mascara running down your face and lips swollen.

He grabs you by the neck, angling it and smashing his lips against your, his tongue working its way into your mouth and you taste yourself, as you moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, you're so tight" Toji groans, into your mouth. "Gonna mould this pussy, I'll ruin you for any other man." Toji squeezes your neck, not too painfully though.

You clench your pussy, cumming on his cock. He slaps your thigh harshly again,"Come on, give me another one- fuck." you cry as your breasts bounce, almost hurting.

"Who's cunt is this, baby?" Toji groans, his cock drawing inside and out of you again and again, a creamy base forming on the base of his cock. I clench again,"I asked you a question, you like it when I talk to you dirty?" He snaps his hips into yours.

"Y-yours! Only yours!" you moan out, gripping his shoulders, tears streaming down your face.

"M-hm, cum on my cock again, doll." He groans and you clench down on his cock, he paints your walls white as he cums inside you, filling you up completely. He snaps his hips breath heavily.

The car is filled with sweat, and heaving breathing. You feel weak, gripping his shoulders, falling back on the seat.

"That's what pleasure is." Toji said breathing heavily, pulling up his pants. His hands on the steering wheel.

"It's getting late, let's go home." He said as he throws your dress at you and chuckles,"You okay, doll?" He teased as you breathed heavily.

"- Im okay- fuck that was so good." You said as you pull the dress down on your body. You sit on the seat, adjusting it and buckling the seatbelt.

"You look fucked." Toji chuckles, as he starts the car pulling it out of the driveway. Your cheeks redden as you look at Toji shyly, the alcohol wearing off. "Your daddy is waiting at home. So, don't make it obvious."

was it okay yall?

[thinkingotherwise]

I saw your post about Wind Breaker I was instantly hooked I was like FINALLY SOMEONE KNOW AND READ IT TOO….If can do you mind making a head canon about Jo Togame🙏. At this point I’m eating any crumbs that you left

Not to be biased but.. I love this man the most

Please Togame has the same VA as Shirosaki from 'My new boss is goofy' and I'm actually cryin' from laughter 😂 😂

Jo Togame making you his with your help

Spoilers for after the fight with Sakura

- Togame was a mystery to you, you heard some of the people talking about him being the second-in-command in Shishituren.

- Because of the rumours you knew him as someone scary and tough, a thug if you will, and tried to avoid him as soon as you knew what he looked like, when one of your friends pointed him out in your neighbourhood.

- Later on, you got to know he visited the nearby public bathhouse, you were shocked at the discovery but still tried to keep your distance from him.

- Whenever you saw the familiar sunglasses and the Shishituren jacket you became nervous and tried to hide in one of the alleys or behind the parked cars.

- But as time passed, you might have been still scared of him but you found yourself seeking him out on the streets.

- You noticed him walking down the street more often, his face more relaxed than ever before and his hair loose.

- You thought he actually looked quite nice like that, the usual rigidness gone and a small smile from time to time appearing on his face.

- Little did you know the smile was caused by you and your failed hide 'n seek game. Once you almost tripped over your own feet trying to hide behind the corner of the street and he found it hilarious.

- The day you officially met him, it was in one of the most cliche ways. You stared at him so much you walked in the streetlamp making him openly laugh at you.

- Yet he still came to your side and helped you up, asking if you were alright. He also brought some ice from the nearby shop and iced your forehead.

- Thanks to that you started talking and noticed he was actually nice and you somehow got along well.

- After befriending him you spent your days meeting each other and you either eat takeout or play some board games.

- He loved eating food and would always compete with you for the last piece of whatever it was you ordered.

- And while he tried to teach you how to play go, he was so overjoyed. Only because you always lost and he liked to see you slowly getting irritated.

- Togame thought you made such cute faces whenever something didn't go according to your plans.

- He would sometimes let you win just so you wouldn't stop playing with him.

- Everything was going swimmingly between the two of you. You got along well, but there was one thing you couldn't stop. You started liking Togame a little too much.

- Your mind started to drift towards him too frequently for it to be only friendly.

- And well when you decided to finally ask him out on a real date, not a hangout as friends, you thought you would write him a letter. He seemed like the old-type guy always wearing those monk-like clothes so a confession letter seemed perfect in your opinion.

- Unfortunately, before you could finish the written confession and gather some confidence to share it with him, he came to you for another late-night meeting.

- He brought some takeout as usual and when you went to retrieve the board game you left him alone in your living room. And because of the shock of him coming unannounced, you didn't realize you left him with your feelings written on the paper.

- While waiting for you he found the crumbled papers lying in the corner and got curious picking one of them and straightening it.

- The moment you came back to the room you were shocked, to say the least, and you didn't know what to do. Frozen in place your eyes were stuck on Togame reading through one of your attempts at confession letters.

- "What are you d-doing?!"

- You stuttered your voice rising in nervousness.

- Togame turned to you a smirk evident on his face, he picked the paper up and showed it to you casually.

- "Oh, just reading this thing."

- Your heart was beating unusually fast and you gripped the board and the pouch you held tighter. You were so flustered, you didn't plan this. What were you supposed to do now that he read this?

- He laughed at your awkwardness and stood up, the paper still in hand he took slow steps towards you.

- "You've got some way with words."

- He said and your gaze fell to the floor. He then leaned over you.

- "If you are serious, I'd be glad to be your boyfriend."

- His voice sent a shiver through your spine and you gazed at his face surprised.

- You slowly nodded your head in a daze and he snorted grabbing at your shoulders and pulling you towards his chest.

- Togame kept his tight hold on you, one of his hands moving around your back and the other combing through your hair.

- You returned the hug dropping the things in your hands to grab at the jacket of Togame's keeping him close thinking it must be some kind of dream.

- But his warmth confirmed that it truly was reality.

- Just like that, he used the chance you gave him to finally make you his. And you just knew he would be such a good and loyal boyfriend.

Tags: @misticbullet

[greynatomy]

take me or leave me

leah williamson x reader

obsessed with this song. my musical era is back.

anyone here watched rent? if you want a visual of how reader kinda acts while performing, click this link.

masterpost

———

You met Leah when she attended an awards show two years ago. You’d sat at the same table and got to talking. She asked for your number and the two of you would be texting and calling all the time.

Eventually, she asked you on a date, taking you to dinner at a secluded section in the restaurant. That night was a night that you could never forget. She let you talk about your career and passions while you did the same for her.

You were from two different worlds, being well known in your own ways, but understand each other, for the most part.

Two years in, and your relationship still strong. You did have some arguments here and there, that’s normal, but what you learned over the years was how jealous she could get. It was amazing to have someone love you so much that they don’t want anyone coming in between that, but sometimes her jealousy becomes too much, like today.

You invited her and some of her friends to a night out with some of your friends. Your two worlds colliding once more.

Being in a relationship with you, she knew how many people ‘desired’ you. You’ve been a public figure since you were a teen. You’ve had costars who’ve tried to date you, others who openly flirt with you and always reassure Leah that she’s the only one you want. She knows that. Doesn’t mean she has to like the way men and women throw themselves at you.

Today was another one of those days, except this time her jealousy seemed to have amplified. Your friends traveled all the way to London to visit you, Leah inviting some of her Arsenal teammates, meeting at a little karaoke club.

Just an hour of being here, Leah’s mood sours. She keeps seeing people coming up to you, some were fans and some who ‘wanted to get to know you’ and not in a friendly matter. It came to a point where she started to ignore you, staying by her friends.

You’ve had enough of it, so you thought of a way to grab her attention. You grabbed your friend Alex and walked up to the person in charge of the karaoke performances. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper your song choice, he gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

“Alright, alright!” He announces on the microphone getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got some broadway royalty with us today! Here to perform a classic from hit musical Rent, Y/N Y/LN and Alexis Thomas.

That got Leah’s attention. She directs her eyes towards the stage where you and Alex stood, microphones in hand. Leah or her friends didn’t know this musical, none of them have ever been into broadway musicals so they didn’t know what to expect. You knew this would get her more jealous, but this is what she gets for ignoring you.

Every single day I walk down the street I hear people say "Baby" so sweet

Ever since puberty Everybody stares at me Boys, girls I can't help it, baby

You look to where Leah sat, shrugging your shoulders.

So be kind And don't lose your mind Just remember That I'm your baby

You point a finger towards her.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me Take me baby or leave me

You take your coat off, revealing an outfit that shows more skin than Leah would like. You walk over to where she sat, draping the coat over her shoulders.

A tiger in a cage Can never see the sun This diva needs her stage Baby, let's have fun!

You walk around to your girlfriend, pulling her chair back and sit sideways in her lap, arm draped over her shoulder.

You are the one I choose Folks would kill to fill your shoes You love the limelight too now, baby

You take the strap of your top, slowly dropping it from your shoulder, teasing her.

So be mine But don't waste my time Cryin', "Oh honeybear Are you still my, my, my baby?"

Leah’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me

You turn in her lap, now straddling her, the hand not holding the microphone grabs the back of her neck, yanking her face to yours, nose barely grazing.

No way, can I be what I'm not But hey, don't you want your girl hot? Don't fight, don't lose your head 'Cause every night, who's in your bed?

She tries to hold onto you as you climb out of her lap. You place a hand on her chest, pushing her back and give her a flying kiss, walking back to the stage.

Who, who's in your bed? Kiss, pookie

Alex starts her part. You’ve both sang this song together so many times that the routine is muscle memory.

It won't work, I look before I leap I love margins and discipline I make lists in my sleep Baby, what's my sin?

Never quit, I follow through I hate mess, but I love you What to do with my impromptu baby?

She starts stalking towards you as you back up, running a finger up your arm. She grabs at your face softly, bringing your face close to hers.

So be wise 'Cause this girl satisfies You've got a prize, so don't compromise You're one lucky baby

Leah squirms in her seat, not liking how you and your friend are touchy, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Her friends start to tease her, jealousy easily seen in her face.

As the songs finishes, Leah is quick off her seat, rushing towards you. She grabs your wrist, pulling you towards what you assume the restroom. You turn your head towards your friends and Leah’s teammates, giving them a wink.

Shutting the bathroom door, she pushes you against it, leaning down so you’re face to face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You ask innocently.

“That’s little show you did there?”

“Oh, that.” You extend the ‘a’. “That’s just a little something me and Alex love to perform.”

“Was all the touching really necessary?”

“Yes.”

She looked at you shocked. “What d’you mean ‘yes.’”

“The only way I thought to get your attention after ignoring me all night.”

“People were all over you!”

“And what did the song say? Something like ‘Take me baby or leave me.’”

You give her a quick, but passionate kiss, pushing her away. Making sure to fix yourself it the mirror, you give her a wink, leaving a stunned Leah in the restroom.

[twola]

cough so i know you have that one lh!arthur drabble thing but pleaseee ( and thank you if you do ) more of lh!arthur being a dick

You gasp aloud, trying not to moan, knowing how dangerously close you are to camp. The tree bark is rough against your palms as you brace yourself against it.

The man moving behind you is rough as well.

“God, ngh, what a pretty little thing you are.”

His hands, weathered and calloused, grip either side of your hips, his fingers leaving bruises - like he seemingly always does each time. Your skirts are flipped up and over your waist as you bend forward, your nails biting into the tree as he crashes into you.

Your ivory colored bloomers stand out starkly on the ground a few feet away.

He smacks your ass with an open palm, and you bite your lower lip not to yelp as his hips bounce against yours.

The campfire glitters in the distance, but here, away from camp, the two of you cavort in a sordid affair. The clicking of his spurs as he adjusts his footing rings out in the night, and he lets out a long breath through his nose before resuming.

"Ar- Arthur-" You whisper, attempting to keep quiet, but the way his cock slams into you with each thrust has you squeezing your eyes shut in concentration not to moan aloud. After one particularly punishing thrust, you lose that battle.

Arthur reaches forward and slaps his hand over your mouth to stifle your cry. His other hand squeezes your hip near painfully as he rocks his hips into yours, each stroke heady and full.

You're hurtling ever closer to release as he fucks you there, bent over in front of that tree. When finally his cock hits that spot within your core, you scream into his hand, the muffled, smothered noise sounding like he was strangling a songbird. He hisses in overstimulation and fucks you through your release, his cock coated in your slick, dripping down to his testicles. It is only three more punishing thrusts until he nearly bowls you over with his own orgasm, having to lean over you and brace himself with one arm against the tree. He grits his teeth, barely concealing a groan as he spends himself into you.

He pants, holding himself there for a moment, tapping your hip softly before standing up and extricating himself. You stumble slightly, your knees shaking.

Arthur's large hands encircle your waist, holding you steady as you regain your footing. You stand up straight, your skirts falling to cover your bare legs. Turning around toward him, you lean back to brace yourself against the tree, catching his eyes before your gaze darts to the ground again.

“What?” He inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Is - there ain’t no one else, is there?”

Arthur smirks, his large arm quickly shooting around your hip and his hand lands on your rear, giving it a squeeze.

“Ain’t no one got a tight little cunt like yours, ain’t nowhere else I wanna be.”

Sure, it wasn’t a confession of love, but for him? It was probably the best you could hope for. You remain silent, unable to meet his gaze.

“Chin up, little girl. I’ll be sure to keep you cryin’ for more.” He lazily drawls, his fingers clutching at your skirt, bunching up the fabric.

He playfully swats at your ass before leaning over and grabbing his gun belt. He winds it around his hips once again, humming a few notes of a drinking song under his breath.

“A pleasure as always, ma’am.” Arthur tips his hat to you and strides back toward camp, a notable swagger in his step.

You clench your jaw, trying to stave off the moisture accumulating in your eyes. You lean down and pick up your bloomers from the ground, hastily stuffing them in your skirt pocket.

Arthur’s raucous, haughty laughter booms from the campfire. How you wish he would smile at you, tap his thigh and have you perch upon it, wrapping his arm around you and nuzzling against your throat. How you wish he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear until he decided sitting out in public was too much, dragging you into his tent, shedding your outer layers and climbing into the cot together.

How you wish he would take you in the warm cocoon of his cot, slow and gentle, leaving you satiated and loved, tangled up in him. How you wish you would wake up in his arms.

But you’re alone, his spend dripping down your thigh, left to wallow in your own impossible dream.

[ilykaveh]

ꨄ︎ . ⋆ TWO FOR THE SHOW !

kamisato ayato.

ABOUT: your tennis instructor is the last person that you expected would offer you a shoulder to cry on after your recent breakup; little do you know he has his own ulterior motives.

CONTENT: sub fem reader, pervy ayato, taking photos without consent, male masturbation, outdoors/semi public, clothed sex, fingering, creampie.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

in hindsight, you should have known that, when picking a sport, tennis was the go-to for posh rich boys that’ve never actually worked a day in their lives.

your first response was to roll your eyes when you were introduced to ayato kamisato, who would be your tennis instructor for the four weeks that you’d already paid for. well, there was no turning back now.

you did your best to be cordial, reasoning that you would only have to see the man thrice a week. yet even so, ayato proved more insufferable than you could have imagined. that belittling smirk that he wore drove you insane, smugness consuming him every single time that he beat you in an one on one match. his touch when he taught you how to best manoeuvre your racket was gentle and airy, always being sure to emphasise how his hands were noticeably larger than your own. ayato wondered how your smaller hands would fare around his throbbing cock, but he wouldn’t dare scare you off just yet.

the man was sneaky with his advances. he’d stare a little bit too long at the way your tennis skirt cupped your ass, or the way that your breasts jutted forwards whenever you reached up to tie back your hair before a game. he considered sneaking away to the storage closet with you, bending you over any surface available and flipping up that tight, white skirt before tearing away your panties and stuffing your pretty cunt full of his length. the only way that he had managed to suppress such thoughts were snapping creep shots of you. he would keep his expensive phone on him whenever you were booked for a session, working hard to take images of your body that you would never notice.

ayato’s typical m.o. was to snap a couple as you stretched, photographing the way your tits strained against the fabric of your polo shirt and the way that your thighs looked in the sunlight, pressing against one another. one session, you’d made the decision to not wear a bra due to the heat, and ayato had a field day collecting shots of your stiff nipples. occasionally, when he was feeling brave, your instructor would take the risk and work to get a picture of your panties. whilst he distracted you with flowery words, explaining some new technique that he wanted you to try, he used his other hand to slip his phone camera under the fabric of your skirt.

the other staff at the country club were impressed by your progress, believing that you were a good enough player to tire out the great ayato kamisato. this was because after each session, ayato would take his ten minute break. but little did they know, instead of rehydrating and perhaps grabbing a quick snack, the man snuck away to the employee bathroom with his phone, reviewing the material that he’d accumulated from the day and subsequently fucking his fist at the thought of you.

it never once occurred to him that this was creepy. from ayato’s perspective, he’d been handed everything in his life that he’d ever wanted - and to him you were no different. eventually you would see what a great guy he was and fall head over heels, and then, finally then, he would get himself a taste of your sweet cunt.

it happened exponentially faster than he could have imagined. you’d come to your regular tuesday session initially looking all prim and proper as per usually, but he could tell something was off. your hair was slightly messier, your makeup less put together than normal. there were creases in your polo, indicating that you hadn’t ironed it. your eyes were puffy, and marginally bloodshot - had you been crying?

“is everything okay?” he inquired after your regular affable greetings, ensuring the pair of you were out of earshot of other attendees. ayato wanted to give you an opportunity to open up to him, if you so desired.

“i’m fine,” you replied, voice meek and sounding on the verge of breaking. he shot you a quizzical look, though laced with what you perceived to be genuine concern. sure, ayato believed that he was only interested in getting in your pants, but in that moment something clicked and he realised that he truly despised seeing anything other than your regular, joyous self.

as he took a moment to weigh up whether or not he wanted to push the issue further, the dam broke. tears began to trail down your pretty cheeks, glittering as they reflected the midweek sunshine. ayato instinctively pulled you into his chest, allowing you to weep in his arms whilst he guided you towards a secluded bench. nobody else was in sight, nor did others come out here. (he’d discovered that after the employee bathroom was occupied the tuesday prior.)

ayato hushed you as you sobbed into his toned pectorals, tears wetting his white shirt. his voice was barely above a whisper when he queried “what happened?”, lithe fingers rhythmically tracing up and down your spine.

“‘s stupid,” you mumbled, untucking the hem of shirt and using it to wipe away your tears.

“if it’s truly stupid, you wouldn’t be so upset, darling.”

the use of something as simple as a pet name had tears rolling down your face once again as you began to divulge how your boyfriend had broken up with you. . . over text.

sure, ayato wasn’t the best with feelings. but there was something about you, something special. he talked it through with you, even suggesting that you both spend the remainder of your allotted time here as opposed to on the courts. if you really wanted to release some anger, he would take you over to the cages with the machines that periodically shot tennis balls to you - if you needed to release some rage, that is.

you agreed to his proposal, allowing yourself time to vent and to process your feelings. you apologised to ayato for having ruined his crisp white shirt, to which he shrugged off and offered you a tissue to wipe away the remainder of your tears. the more that the pair of you chatted, the more that you realised that you had a considerable amount in common.

“i’m sorry, darling. you’ll meet somebody better soon enough.” ayato consoled.

you took a deep breath, composing yourself before asking, “what if i’ve already met him?”

when ayato looked at you, he could have sworn that your eyes were quite literally sparkling. he could tell what you were implying. so many thoughts rushed through his head, wondering what the best move to make was. he settled on cupping your face in his hand, slowly moving his lips towards your own as he offered you ample opportunity to pull away if you so desired.

his lips were soft, and yours tasted faintly of cherry lip gloss. it didn’t take too long for the kiss to become more heated, with ayato unable to control his urges and your impaired judgement. you straddled his lap as one of his hands held the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and the other caressed your back.

ayato started to nibble on your bottom lip, eliciting a faint moan from you. this allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the sudden intrusion resulting in you subconsciously grinding against ayato’s clothed bulge. he wore white trousers and you were already dripping through your panties - a disastrous combination. your slick began coating ayato’s clothes, creating a small wet patch that neither of you could care less about.

his hands slipped under your shirt, seeking out the lacey material of your bra before tugging at it, and allowing your tits to spill over the material. ayato wanted to make a teasing comment about the size of his hands, however you were keeping his mouth too preoccupied with your own. he switched between groping at each mound and tweaking your hardened nipples, experimenting to see what would make you moan louder for him.

“fuck,” he cursed under his breath as you pulled away for air.

“‘yato?” you muttered, “i want your cock,”

those were the four magic words that he’s been wanting to hear. without wasting a single beat, he removed his palms from your chest, smirking as you whined at the loss of contact, and reached under your skirt. he moved your panties to the side, stroking your drooling slit as he spread your folds wider. you resorted to burning your head deep against the crook of ayato’s neck to muffle your sweet moans.

his thumb found your swollen clit with ease, running laps around the bud until you pretty much shook under his touch. he then slid his middle finger, already coated in your juices, towards your entrance, pushing the digit past the taut muscle. slowly but surely, he worked you open, preparing your cunt for the stretch that would inevitably ensure.

as ayato began to feel your pussy contracting around him, signalling that you were close to the edge, he pulled back. you were once again left whimpering at the loss of contact. he placed his wet fingers into his mouth, lewdly licking up all of the juices that you’d coated his hand with. the man was waiting for you to beg for his cock, but instead you took your own initiative and reached into his waistband, locating his stiff cock and pulling it out. you pumped his shaft few times for good measure, though before you could align him with your hole ayato took control back, moving your hands to rest on shoulders. he pulled your panties aside once again, running the thick head of his cock through your folds.

your back arched as ayato pushed himself into your warm cunt, resting a hand on your hips and encouraging you to lower yourself onto him. despite the preparations, he was a struggle to take. you could feel him throb inside of you, that sweet, hazy feeling settling in. he waited for you to take him at your own pace, waiting until you were well adjusted to his length before he began thrusting his hips upwards to meet your own.

your nails dug decorative crescents into ayato’s shoulders as your pulsating cunt already had the man feeling his orgasm building. his cock nudged against your deepest spots once he was fully sheathed inside of your pussy, leaving you melting into his every touch.

babbles of his name were the only coherent thing you could utter as you struggled to keep your voice down, remembering that you are quite literally outside. ayato's pace grew in severity, eyes rolling to the back of your head in euphoria. you did your very best to keep up with him, yet his athletic tendencies weighed to his advantage as he drilled into your sloppy cunt. his cockhead hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending you reeling ever more than before.

"aya- 'mna cum!" you yelped, words feeling blurry as you spoke them.

instead of verbally imploring you to do as such, ayato slid a hand back under your skirt and began fiddling with your sensitive clit. tears began brimming your lashes once again, yet this time they were cries of pleasure. your needy pussy squeezed ayato, clenching around the man's cock in a vice grip. the low groans that he struggled to hold back were music to your ears, pushing you closer to your high until you finally snapped under his touch.

ayato continued to rub your bundle of nerves as you rode out your high, wishing to keep himself buried between your legs for as long as he could. the euphoric look on your face combined with how angelic your pussy felt prompted his synchronous orgasm, spurting ropes of thick, warm cum deep into your cunt.

the pair of you sit like that for a second, with his cock still plugging his seed inside of you, recovering from your respective orgasms.

you could have sworn you heard ayato mutter something under his breath, but you were too consumed by your own thoughts to dwell on it.

"better than i imagined."

[teddiee]

Into Each Life: Chapter 10

Summary:

Arnie’s expression clears, briefly, and he blinks up at Tony like he suddenly remembers the other Omega is sharing the cramped stall with him. “Y’told me it wouldn’t hurt, once. Before… before I left. You said—you said it’s what we’re s’posed to do.”

“Arnie,” Tony warns.

“Yeah, you did. You said that t’me. You smelled scared, though. Knew you didn’t believe it. What you were sayin’. But I trusted you anyway. And then… and then…” Arnie swallows, and rubs at his eyes, and Tony’s heart plummets into his stomach.

Perpendicular to him, Bucky shifts. Tony can’t bring himself to look at him. He wants to disappear.

“Roth,” Tony bites out sharply. “Shut the fuck up.”

Words: 9,952

Steve Rogers’ birthday, Tony learns, is Independence Day.

“You’re joking,” Tony sputters, unwittingly, when Steve drops the news in casual conversation. He bites his cheek and swats at Bucky’s hand as it reaches from behind to pinch at his hip bone when Steve turns around to face him, his brow furrowed.

“What? No, I’m not joking. Why would I be joking?”

It’s late on Wednesday evening. The Brooklyn boys, ultimately deciding it was too warm to heat anything on the stove for supper, had pooled together their pocket change and set off for the nearest Horn & Hardart Automat.

“Horn and Who?” Tony had asked warily, albeit delighted, when a soot-smudged and bright-eyed Alpha appeared outside his window to whisk him away from his ivory Omega tower.

He had only dropped him off there earlier that week, two days prior. And he had seen him every night since.

“You’re sweet, you know that?” Bucky had replied, shifting his weight onto his forearms and leaning over Tony’s window to grin at him. “The automat, princess. Where us workin’ class-type go to pay ten cents for a sandwich when our butlers can’t be bothered to make one for us.”

Tony nodded sagely. “Sounds humbling.”

“Y’gonna come out here? Or am I gonna have to carry you down?”

“I’m all booked up tonight, sorry,” Tony sighed. He shoved his socked feet into his shoes and reached for his suspenders, dangling loosely at his waist, to pull each strap over his shoulders.  “I’ve got a swell date with my footman. He’s bringing hot pastrami on rye.”

Bucky laughed, loud and beautiful, and Tony’s stomach swooped. Somewhere down on the street below, a blonde Alpha groaned.

“For cryin’ out loud, can’t you two make moon eyes at each other later? I’m starvin’.”

“Aw, jeez. Shut your pie hole, Rogers. We’re comin’.”

Twenty minutes later, the young Alphas, hungry and irritable, bicker and grumble incessantly at each other as the trio slowly inch up a line stretched halfway down the block for their ten-cent suppers.

“We still haven’t even made it to one game this season, Rogers.”

“Last time I checked, Buck, I wasn’t the one pulling weekend shifts.”

“Don’t be a punk. I pick up Sunday doubles to help Nan and Pop with Becca’s tuition.”

“Not worth it,” Tony mumbles under his breath.

“Please. You were picking up Sundays so Hendricks would let you skip out early on Thursdays to chase skirts at Ruby’s.”

“Nice,” Tony says.

Bucky flicks Steve in the ear. “Quit bein’ a wiseass.” His tone is casual, but the scowl he delivers to his best friend over Tony’s head is dirty enough to send the angriest Nazi retreating with his tail between his legs.

He hooks his arm around Tony’s waist and rests his chin on the Omega’s head. Tony accepts his wordless apology easily and sags into the embrace, hoping his scent doesn’t show how secretly pleased he is to be touched like this in public. Bucky’s dating history is none of his business—besides, with how tactile Bucky’s been in the few short days since they started their…courtship? Entanglement?—anyone in a twenty-mile radius can smell Bucky’s unofficial claim on Tony like a forest signal fire.

Either way, he’s a silent sucker for the Alpha’s groveling.

Steve, to his credit, manages to look properly contrite as he casts an apologetic wince in Tony’s direction.

“I mean, not anymore, of course. Chasing skirts, and whatnot. Or, um—”

Tony snorts.

“The point is,” Steve continues haughtily. He begins waving his hands in the air for emphasis. “I’d be happy to go watch the Dodgers. I love the Dodgers. ‘The Pride of Brooklyn’, y’know? Let’s go Dodgers.”

Tony squints. “I don’t think anyone calls them that.”

Bucky yanks at Tony’s earlobe.

“I just don’t know if I want to spend my birthday at a baseball game.”

“But it’s a holiday,” Bucky points out, and the three boys shuffle up the sidewalk as the line slowly dwindles. Behind them, a surly Beta man in coveralls with grease stains on his fingertips occasionally leers in Tony’s direction. He smells like rotten seaweed and moldy plywood. Steve doesn’t seem to notice, too busy drowning under the plight of his current misfortunes, but Bucky shields Tony’s body with his own and keeps the Omega close. He keeps an arm slung around Tony’s chest, or a hand on his waist, or fingers curled around his hip. The primal, possessive creature inside of Tony thrums happily. “I don’t have work. You don’t have work. Tony doesn’t have work.”

“Hilarious,” says Tony.

“C’mon, Steve. Think about it. What’s more patriotic than baseball? America’s favorite pastime. Drinking shit beer and heckling the Phillies with my best pal—” he squeezes Tony’s waist “—and my best boy.”

My best boy.

Steve frowns again, and this time a crease forms between his eyebrows. “It just doesn’t seem right, I guess. Celebrating the country. While everyone else is off fighting for the country.”

“No need to be so contrite, Steve-o,” Tony says, reaching out and squeezing Steve’s bicep in sympathy. He hates it when Steve frowns, but more importantly, he hates that Steve continues to carry the incomprehensible weight of war-riddled guilt on his slight shoulders. “It’s just a birthday. Everyone has one; if I remember correctly, you even got me drunk and clobbered all of my shoes on the dance floor for mine.”

“You looked great.”

“Shaddup, Buck, I know I looked ridiculous,” Steve scoffs, face flaming.

“Wasn’t talking about you.”

Fifteen squabbling minutes later, they reach the front of the line. Steve admits that his birthday is the fourth of July—Tony guffaws, because of course Steve Rogers shares a birthday with Uncle Sam, the Star Spangled sap that he is —and Bucky orders Tony a hot pastrami on rye. When Tony tries pulling out his wallet, Bucky snatches it from his hands and tucks it into his own back pocket before Tony can even blink.

Eventually, once sandwiches find their way into the hands of cranky Alphas and appetites are satiated, the best friends manage to reach a compromise: they’ll attend the Dodgers game—it’s an afternoon game, anyway, and the Dodgers are having a stellar season, says Bucky, who apparently despises the Phillies with a vitriol Toby usually reserves for things like poetry class, and his mother’s homemade meatloaf—and then stick around Flatbush to watch the fireworks that night. Steve mentions something about a picnic blanket, and Bucky asks him if he’s going to weave his own wicker basket, too, and then Steve Rogers is wrangling Bucky Barnes into a headlock as Tony Stark happily munches on the worst sandwich he’s ever tasted.

Tony doesn’t mention that he has never watched the fireworks with anyone before or seen a baseball game; he's only listened to games on the radio with Ana (a devoted Yankees fan).

“Promised to buy me dinner, my ass,” Steve grumbles, wiping the crumbs of Bucky’s Reuben out of his hair. “I offered to cook tonight. That potato soup ma used t’make, with the onions. You liked ma’s soup.”

“Didn’t want no soup, Steve. S’too hot.”

“Dragged me out here… made me pay for my own damn sandwich…”

“—I told you I’d take you to dinner. Last time I checked, you made your own money, y’damsel.”

“Semantics. You bought Tony’s.”

“S’different. Gotta woo my fella.” To prove a point, Bucky hooks a finger into Tony’s belt loop and pulls him close until their chests are touching. He presses a light kiss to his nose. Tony blushes. “How’s the grub, doll?”

Tony feigns a sigh. “Passable. Don’t know what I’m going to tell Gaspard, he’ll be crushed.”

Bucky quirks a brow. “The footman?”

“Maybe. I’m still workshopping pretentious, self-absorbed French names. I’m open to suggestions.”

“Raoul,” Steve pipes in.

“Bertrand,” offers Bucky, voicd muffled around a stolen mouthful of Tony’s sandwich.

“Bertrand’s not French,” says Steve. “Is it?”

“You’re a real wisecrack today, you know that?”

“Bertrand’s French,” says Tony. “A snooty, French variation of ‘Bertram’. German.” He pauses, contemplative. “There’s a mathematician named Bertrand. I read his dissertation on non-Euclidean geometry back in grammar school. Not bad, if you don’t mind analyzing core mathematic principles served up with a heaping side of philosophical-yuppie-bullshit.”

“German?” Cries Steve, aghast.

“Love it when you start talkin’ etymology to me, honey,” Bucky husks into Tony’s ear, not bothering to drop his voice low enough to spare his best friend, who sputters indignantly in the background. Tony scoffs, amused, but Bucky smells like he means it: rich and tangy. Heady.

The warmth of it curls into his nostrils and settles pleasantly at the base of his spine. Tony tips his head back and grins at Bucky, eyelashes fluttering.

“‘Bertram’. Comes from the Old German words ‘beraht’ and ‘hram’. Means ‘bright raven’.” Tony’s taking the piss, honestly, but to his delight, he watches Bucky’s pupils dilate. “It’s very Shakespearean,” he finishes, a little out of breath.

“Jesus,” Steve mutters. “Get a room.”

“Don’t mind if we do,” Bucky snarks back, slipping his hand into Tony’s and tossing their trash into the nearest bin. “What time’s curfew, darlin’?” Like he doesn’t know.

“Uh. seven? Room checks are tonight.” Tony’s tongue feels dry in his mouth. Bucky’s looking at him the way he does when he—

“Great. Wanna go fool around?”

“I hate you guys,” says Steve, dropping his head into his hands. “I need new friends. Single friends. Beta friends…”

Tony’s lips twitch. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Spend the night.”

Tony pokes his tongue into his cheek to suppress his smile. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can. We’ll sneak out after curfew. I can have you back before the sun’s even up. No one would ever know.”

“I’m on thin ice. My room smells like you. Every week at room check, Tompkins sniffs around like a Basset Hound, hoping to find my secret rotating horde of Alpha lovers hiding in the closet.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky grins. “Who else do you keep on deck?”

Tony crumples his ethics homework into a ball and playfully lobs it at Bucky’s head. It bounces off the Alpha’s forehead and he catches it in his hands, cackling. He’s sprawled out on Tony’s bed, looking devilishly handsome and entirely too irresistible in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the Omega’s small dormitory.

“Humphrey Bogart. Lou Costello. That guy at the bodega in Gowanus who calls me ‘angel face’.”

“Knew I outta be worried about that guy. Looked far too pleased with himself to just be sellin’ you some canned vegetables.”

“Have to keep my roster fresh. In case my current rotation gets bored of me.”

Tony’s joking, mostly—mostly?—and he’s still smiling because Bucky does that to him. Makes him grin until his cheeks hurt, these past few days. He’s scribbling some nonsense onto a piece of paper so that he has something to turn in for class tomorrow—it’s not like he’s done an Ethics reading since he was sixteen, anyway, and he’s fully prepared to fail his final exam next week because who cares, honestly—but Bucky’s behind him, suddenly. He stands at Tony’s desk chair, wrapping his arms around Tony’s chest and pulling the Omega back against him. He leans down a bit, resting his chin on Tony’s head.

“Hi,” Tony says quietly. He feels Bucky’s heartbeat against his shoulder blades.

“Hi,” Bucky says back. He presses his lips to the crown of Tony’s head.

Despite Bucky’s jab at Steve earlier, the two of them haven’t done much fooling around since that fateful, heated morning in Bucky’s bed. True to his word, Bucky accepted Tony’s tentative approval of their courtship like a gentleman. He kept him close all weekend and doted on him—tending to his bruises and staying a noble three steps ahead of his seemingly predictable, blubbering outbursts.

Tony wept incessantly for two straight days, leaving him both outraged and deeply mortified. Regardless of his most valiant efforts, even the tiniest action seemed to trigger waterworks.

He cried on the telephone when he called Jarvis. He cried when Steve cooked him breakfast in the morning, and when Bucky pulled him into the shower and washed his hair—both boys in their underclothes—intimate and gentle and nonsexual. He even shed tears when Steve returned from the dry cleaners Sunday evening, carrying Tony’s godawful suit.

“Aw, Christ,” Tony gritted out, pressing his palms into his eyes to stave off the familiar burning pressure. He didn’t know how he had any tears left to spare, good God. “Thanks, Steve. Just—you could’ve tossed it in the trash. Or—I don’t know, burned it. Fed it to the pigeons, or something.”

“It’s a nice suit,” Steve protested, a little stunned and a lot wary. He cast a panicked look at Bucky, who was observing the unfolding situation with amusement from the kitchen table, casually biting into an apple. “It doesn’t… it’s as good as new. It doesn’t even smell like that Alpha, anymore. Honest.”

“Swell,” Tony said, voice wavering dangerously.

And then he started weeping.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky crooned. He pulled Tony into his lap and wrapped his arms around his midsection. “Of course we’ll get rid of it. Maybe we’ll spare the pigeons, though. I bet there are plenty of hungry termites in Brooklyn.”

“Buck,” said Steve, appalled.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Tony wailed. “M’so embarrassed. I’m not usually like this, I swear it. I just—I feel insane.”

“You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect,” Bucky said consolingly, hugging him tighter. “You’re letting go of eighteen years of shitty, repressed emotions. I’m surprised you haven’t tried to sock one of us in the face yet.” Bucky gestured to his roommate, who was stealthily hanging the suit on the far-facing side of the coat rack. “When Steve’s ma died, he got so drunk on Jim Beam; I found him passed out on the side of the road outside the cemetery. Had to throw him over my shoulder and carry him three miles home. Halfway there, he threw up down my back.”

“It’s true,” Steve said sagely. “And Bucky bawled like a baby the night we moved Becca into The Institute.”

“She was cryin’ all over me, begging me to take her home. She’s my baby sister, it was brutal.”

On Sunday night, he and Bucky finally went out. Bucky took him to a cozy mom-and-pop diner—somewhere he used to frequent with his parents after church on weekends. He held Tony’s hand, and paid for his food (much to Tony’s protest), and when they got back to the apartment, James Barnes pushed Tony up against the threshold of the doorway and kissed him like it was the one thing he was put on this Earth to do.

Bucky gripped his waist with one hand and cradled his cheek with the other and slicked his mouth over Tony’s with a spiritual sort of reverence. Tony, useless as always, sagged, his eyes fluttering shut as he choked out a desperate whimper. Bucky responded with a low chuckle of his own that carried an unmistakable sense of dominance, hauntingly Alpha.

He rewarded the Omega by sinfully curling his tongue around Tony’s own and Tony shuddered and sighed as he was greeted with a familiar roaring in his ears and a soft buzzing under his skin, his submissive instincts kicking into overdrive as he succumbed to Bucky’s unhurried, devout ministrations. His glands throbbed in a way that had him squirming and shuddering, and when Bucky’s thumb trailed delicately against the suck mark on his neck, he almost keened.

Bucky responded by pushing into the bruise harder and growling into Tony’s mouth.

“Good boy.”

Tony moaned lowly.

It was dangerous, the effect that Bucky Barnes had on Tony’s physical being. He found himself unable to do anything but submit as he yielded over control of the kiss, happily allowing Bucky to assert control in a way that felt so simple, so innate, it made his toes curl.

“James? Is that you?”

Bucky ripped his mouth from Tony’s and pushed him behind his body, Tony stumbling with the grace and discretion of a newborn animal. He latched onto the back of Bucky’s shirt for purchase, sucking oxygen into his lungs to put out the fire in his blood.

“Mrs. Lombardi,” Bucky croaked, before clearing his throat. “Hi, yeah, hello. It’s just me.”

Bucky’s elderly neighbor narrowed her eyes as she peered at the two of them from her doorway down the dimly lit hallway, three rooms away. “Is that Steven with you?”

Tony pressed his forehead into Bucky’s back and bit down on his lip to stifle his laughter. Bucky reached behind and gave his waist a warning squeeze.

“Not Steve, ma’am. This is Tony. My, uh… cousin.”

Tony almost choked on his spit.

And because he’s a terrible person, he stepped out from behind Bucky, nodding.

“On his mother’s side,” he improvised. “From Indiana.”

Bucky’s lips pressed together tightly, his mouth twitching. “Uh-huh. Visiting for the summer.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Mrs. Lombardi gushed.

“Isn’t it swell?” said Tony, grinning.

Bucky dropped Tony off at school early Monday morning before his shift at the docks. He followed him through his window, cornered him against Arnie’s bedpost, and kissed him slowly (and far too indecently for six in the morning) before promising to stop by after work.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tony objected weakly, chasing Bucky’s lips as the Alpha moved to pull away.

“Want to,” Bucky murmured, conceding. He curled his tongue around Tony’s and stole the protest from his mouth; Tony’s hitched whine tugging the corners of his mouth upward. “Goin’ steady, remember? I’m tryin’ to win you over.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony’s next breath tripped into a staggered moan as Bucky fisted his fingers into Tony’s unruly hair and sucked at the hinge of his jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head, hips stuttering for desperate purchase against Bucky’s firm, unyielding body. The hard outline of Bucky’s erection against his belly was a teasing, familiar presence after a weekend of sharing a twin bed—though, like usual, the Alpha seemed perfectly content to ignore his own arousal.

“You’re gonna leave marks,” Tony griped with all the conviction of an incensed Labrador. Bucky’s teeth dragged across his pulse point and Tony’s bones pulverized to dust, his head lolling back as if his spine had vanished inside his body. The only thing keeping him from braining himself on the wooden railing was a firm set of fingers urging his chin back in place.

“Babydoll,” Bucky husked into Tony’s jaw, grinning wickedly. Practically sinking his molars into Tony’s strangled mewl. “How am I s’pposed to leave you, huh? All dizzy and sweet for me like this.”

The air that Tony sucked into his lungs tasted like Bucky. It made his vision soft around the edges. “Gonna skip morning classes. Jerk off until I cry.” He swallowed audibly. “Or pass out. Maybe both. Then I’ll probably sleep ’til noon.” With his eyes glazed and his inhibitions ash, Tony hardly registered the candor spilling out of his mouth. He was so pent up he could combust.

Because it was the truth—while the near-constant physical contact Bucky offered over the past few days worked wonders in stabilizing his wonky, imbalanced hormones, all the exposure to the Alpha’s pheromones had also worked him up beyond belief. At this point, he was pretty sure he could come at the drop of a hat, if Bucky commanded it.

Bucky bit out a curse, his scent spiking sharp. He pressed his thumb into Tony’s bottom lip and Tony, feeling petulant and turned on and ten million other things, bit down on the digit. Bucky’s gaze turned molten.

“Good,” Bucky swallowed, throat bobbing.“You deserve it. Better be thinking of me, though.” He pulled away, but not before one last tug to Tony’s bottom lip. Eyes blazing. “You can tell me all about it tonight.”

“Roger Barnes?”

Steve flushes crimson, swiping the selective service card out of Tony’s hands. The ink from the "4-F” stamp smears on Tony’s fingers, still fresh.

“I’m running out of options, alright? I tried ‘Grant Stevens ’ just last month.”

“Ahh. Very stealthy, Nancy Drew.” Tony reclines, releasing a puff of smoke into the cloudless sky above. “Congrats on the impending nuptials, by the way. Where should I expect a wedding invitation from, Washington Heights?”

Steve squints down at the form. “Er, no. Bayonne.”

“NEW JERSEY?” Tony cries, scandalized. He pushes himself up on his elbows, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. “Hate to say it, pal, but it’s no wonder they rejected you this time. Not even Nazis are afraid of schmucks from ‘The Garden State’.”

Steve is smiling again.

Jackpot.

“Now you’re just bein’ mean. You’re uninvited from me and Buck’s wedding.”

“Shame,” Tony sighs. “I would have made the most fetching flower girl.”

“The mouthiest one, maybe.”

“Since when are they mutually exclusive?”

“Aren’t you supposed t’be studying?” Steve reaches for Tony’s long-discarded, school-issued study guide and flips to a page of practice questions. “You’re distractin’ me. We’re supposed to be going over…” he flips to another page and makes a vaguely constipated face. “…‘The Art and Duty of Childrearing’. Hell, is this actually one of your classes?”

Tony’s eyes roll back so far into his skull that he can see his brain.“Go on, then. Let’s review all the ways Mother Nature has blessed my fertile, bountiful womb.”

It’s warm outside, reminiscent of the first day Tony decided to bask in the sunlight on top of an old brick studio in downtown Brooklyn. Just like that first Thursday day, he lies on his back, his shirt untucked, collar unbuttoned, his cheeks turning pink from the sun. 

Just like that day, he inhales small doses of oil paint, and charcoal, and turpentine, and lets the safe, tangy aroma of his friend’s pheromones soothe the jagged edges of his anxiety. Where the low hum of a trusted Alpha's voice—an Alpha he cares about��makes his eyelids droop and his spine soften.

And this time, he lets himself float a little. In a quiet, submissive space.

Or he would, perhaps. If Steve Rogers wasn’t so determined to disrupt his feeble grasp of serenity with questions about his—

“—endometrial lining? This certainly doesn’t seem relevant,” Steve mutters, scratching the back of his neck and peering down at Tony’s study packet as if it were written in Latin. “Are you sure this is yours?”

“Do you reckon the childbirth chapter for fellas would offer better insight?”

It’s not like he was even carrying around his final exam guides for these absurd classes on purpose, mind you. But Rebecca Barnes had cornered him during yesterday’s mealtime, halfway to hysteria with a crazed look in her eye, demanding a study partner since ‘None of the girls would partner with her, not since Sally Mendelsohn told the entire grade that she had been disguising dirty messages in her needlepoint using Morse code.’

“Have you?” Tony asked, impressed.

“It doesn’t matter!” Becca cried. “Sally’s a rotten busybody who wouldn’t know romance if it bit her on her stupid, powdered nose. She wishes she had a fella to send suggestive handkerchiefs to.”

It didn’t matter that he reminded her—repeatedly—that he had never once studied for an Institute exam during his two years of enrollment. His professors would pass him anyway; no one would risk holding back Howard Stark’s pain-in-the-ass son. In fact, Tony had it on good authority that most of the staff were anxiously ticking off his remaining days as a student on their desk calendars.

Becca had stuffed the study guide into his satchel anyway and called him a spoiled swine.

“Some of us can’t risk summer school in this loony bin. Quiz me, before I tell Jamie you’re being a real cad.”

Steve only found the stupid thing because he was digging around Tony’s satchel for a pencil. Which, you know, Tony had so generously offered him in the first place.

Nosy, meddlesome Alpha.

“Rogers, if you care about me at all, you’ll stop using the words ‘gland secretion’ in my presence.”

His complaint falls on deaf ears. Steve scans a paragraph—with excessive concentration, if the lines on his forehead are any indication—mumbles something under his breath, and makes a pencil notation onto the paper.

“Are you… correcting my ‘Art and Duty of Childrearing’ study guide? God, enough of this bullshit. We’re supposed to be criticizing your reckless life choices right now. And your clearly misguided death wish. And how all of this contributes to a self-sacrificial disposition that is, frankly, alarming.” Tony sits up and snatches the packet out of Steve’s hands. “We’re going to have a safe, wonderful time. Contributing here. On home soil. Pinning up posters and, I don’t know, helping old Roosevelt sell war bonds.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve replies. He’s biting back a smile, even if he smells a little sad. “How are we plannin’ on doing that?”

“Betty Grable auctioned off her stockings at a rally last month for forty thousand. How much do you think my tightie whities will go for?”

“I’m not answerin’ that.”

"What happened to that steadfast patriotism, Lieutenant Liberty?”

“Jesus, Tony. These nicknames keep getting worse and worse.”

Tony shrugs, stubbing out his cigarette. “Don’t be a drip, that one was catchy. You already shot down ‘Sergeant Spangles’.”

“That’s Bucky’s ranking. Why not sic him with some dorky comic book alias?”

“How many times do I have to remind you that comic books are neat, Rogers? Not dorky. Stop insulting my prized collectibles, or we’re going to have a separate problem. Y’know what’s dorky? Naming each of your acrylic paints after famous New York landmarks. How is ‘Coney Island’ yellow?”

“It felt right! You told me you thought it was sweet, jerk!”

Tony does think it’s sweet. Tony thinks everything about Steve Rogers is sweet, and safe, and wonderful, and Tony can’t even begin to fathom sending Steve off to war because that would also mean thinking about sending Bucky off to war. And that is an entirely different beast of a problem that Tony’s not ready to poke at with a thirty-foot stick.

“I think some shade names deserve careful reconsideration, that’s all.”

“We’ve already talked about this. I’m not calling my brown paint ‘Tony Stark’s Eyes’”.

“Well, pardon me, Rembrandt. It beats ‘Bronx Zoo’. Do you know what I envision? Mud. Screaming children. Animal crap.”

They’re still bickering half-heartedly when the rooftop door creaks open and Bucky slips through, looking handsome and work-weary and sending Tony’s heart tripping pathetically in his chest. Not unlike their very first encounter. Or any of their subsequent encounters.

“I can hear you two blathering on halfway down the block,” Bucky says, sending them both a look of mock exasperation. He crouches in front of Tony and ruffles his hair. Tony swats the intrusion away without any gusto, pretending he hasn’t been keening for the Alpha’s touch all day. Bucky links their fingers together instead and kisses the back of his hand.

“Welcome home, honey,” Tony says drily. “Thoughts on selling my underwear for war bonds?”

“Very noble. S’this a private bidding?”

Steve’s subsequent eye-roll is so delicious Tony can taste it.

They don’t go to Ruby’s. Bucky’s too tired, and Steve’s too cranky, and Tony’s too hungry. They end up at some seedy Irish pub that doesn’t blink twice at Tony’s designation (small mercies), and Tony feasts quietly on Shepherd’s Pie while Bucky drinks a Guinness and plays footsie with him under the bar.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with staying here, Stevie. We have this same conversation every week. Plenty to do to help out without getting yourself killed.”

“Easy for you t’say,” Steve mutters. He’s only halfway through his own beer but more than halfway to being tipsy. “You enlisted. We both enlisted. Tried to, anyway. Enlist.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky finishes his pint and licks the foam off his upper lip, pushing the glass out of reach in frustration. “Priorities have changed. If I could do things differently, I would.”

Tony shovels a large forkful of pie into his mouth and chews slowly, staring at his plate with fixed intensity.

“They’d take you anyway,” Steve grumbles. “Sergeant Barnes. Whole army’s probably filled with guys like you. Real Alphas.”

“You’re being a real asshole, y’know that?” Bucky replies. He snatches Steve’s beer from his grasp. “You’re cut off. Here, doll.” He pushes the glass in Tony’s direction. “Put me outta my fuckin’ misery.”

Tony scrunches his nose. “Don’t love a stout, personally.”

Steve steals his beer back and sulks.

“They don’t want me either, Stevie,” Tony tries to offer his consolation around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Not even as a nurse. Or, I don’t know, a French prostitute. Like the rest of the Omegas. Not that I’d make much of a healthcare provider.”

“I know,” Steve says miserably. “I watch you try to feed the rest of your paracetamol to Mrs. Lombardi’s cat.”

Tony grimaces.

“Jury’s still out on the French prostitute, though,” Bucky says. “Could definitely picture you in some nice lace garters.” He winks, and Tony’s cheeks flame as he’s reduced to a puddle of goo.

“Anyway,” Tony coughs. He waves his fork in the air. “Fuck ‘em. We don’t need ‘em.” He purposefully does not let his mind wander to a specific set of pencil-sketched blueprints sitting in some government-sealed folder on Howard’s desk.

Bucky reaches out to stroke his thumb over Tony’s warm cheek. “Their loss. No Germans would be a match for this big, beautiful brain.” Bucky is smirking, but he says it softly, meaningfully, and it’s a touch too honest for this shitty pub. Tony almost swoons into his pie.

“Don’t forget my dashing good looks,” Tony says stupidly, instead.

“Couldn’t forget those if I tried.”

“M’leaving,” Steve says, draining the last of his stout and tossing a couple of coins down onto the bartop. He stumbles out of his stool, and Tony watches him warily. “I’m behind on next week’s mockups. And I promised Missus O’Doyle I’d check on her kids before bed; she’s workin’ late tonight.”

Tony watches him with a frown. The Alpha smells dejected and sullen, and the pheromones make his nose twitch. He folds his hands in his lap and tries to ignore the impulses that tell him to reach out and provide comfort, like a good little caretaker.

“I’ll see you on Monday? I promised to reassemble your toaster. Not that it’s… irreversibly damaged, or anything.” Saturday evening’s check-in phone call with Jarvis had left Tony feeling fidgety. He was alone in the apartment—the Alphas had gone to pick up groceries for supper to give Tony a bit of privacy—and the nearest kitchen appliance immediately fell victim to his oldest anxious habit.

When the roommates returned thirty minutes later, they found Tony sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by wires, a screwdriver in hand, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I’m reconfiguring its heating elements to create a signal that can, uh, disrupt nearby radio frequencies. It’s made of nichrome, so it’s pretty easy to repurpose the material to create electromagnetic interference. Once I modify the power source, it’ll oscillate at radio frequencies instead of, y’know, heating up. ” Tony explained sheepishly. “A portable signal jammer, if you want to get technical. Sorry about the mess. And your toaster. It was kind of a piece of junk, anyway.” He paused his ramblings. “Nope, didn’t mean that. It’s a lovely appliance. I’m certain it’s performed its job dutifully over the years, producing many slices of golden-brown Wonder Bread. I’ll fix it—maybe? I hope you both aren’t too sentimentally attached to it."

Bucky knelt on the floor in front of Tony’s mess of bolts and scrap metal. “We leave you alone for half an hour, and you get bored enough to commit espionage in our kitchen?” He swiped at Tony’s chin with his thumb to remove a rogue oil smudge, eyes crinkling with mirth. Meanwhile, Steve held up the homemade contraption and inspected it as if it were something sacred and not just something Tony hastily soldered together with a Zippo he found on Bucky’s nightstand.

Tony rubbed at the back of his neck. “Nothing that fun. Best case scenario, it’ll work for localized interference. The radius is way too much to cause significant damage, given that it’s a… toaster. I already tested it out on nearby coms, and was able to intercept the local police station. Also, your neighbor’s episode of Stella Dallas.”

Steve leaves the bar with a lukewarm wave and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and Bucky squeezes Tony’s knee under the bar top as he promises his roommate that he won’t be too far behind.

“He gets like this, sometimes,” Bucky says. He waves down the bartender to close out his tab, pulling bills out of his wallet. “He gets so caught up in the injustice of it all, of being turned away, that he doesn’t realize they’re savin’ his life. Sometimes, I wish they’d stamp his damn form just to shut him up. And that the war would wrap up before he realized what he was signin’ himself up for.” Bucky rakes his fingers through his hair, stirring a twinge of sympathy in Tony as he suddenly notices how exhausted the Alpha looks.

“I wouldn’t be able to think straight if I knew he was over there. Kid’s got a chronic illness for every damn letter of the alphabet. It’s bad enough to know that I’ll be leavin’ my own people behind, eventually. But at least… it’s safe here. And he’ll have you.” Bucky gives him a tired, crooked smile. The private one he reserves for Tony. “I have no doubt you two knuckleheads can find enough trouble to get into in Brooklyn without giving the Europeans their own headache.”

Tony considers this for a moment. “Hearing ‘no’ all the time is one thing. It becomes a pretty strong incentive to get the same stubborn jackasses to change their mind and start saying ‘yes’.” He pushes a few peas around his plate with his fork. “Choosing to say ‘no’ for yourself is a privilege, I think. For some people. Like… Steve.”

Bucky—who lives rent-free in Tony’s incessant inner monologue, apparently—hums quietly.

“Let’s get you home, gorgeous.”

“What’s the point?” Tony bemoans, sliding off his stool with the swiftness of a drunken sloth. “I’ve already missed curfew. Byron probably assumes I’m out cavorting with my secret harem.”

“I’ve already told you that you can spend the night. Offer still stands, don’t have to ask twice.”

Tony feels something warm pooling at the base of his spine. Bucky has extended some variation of this invitation to him every night this week, and while Tony keeps deflecting, the allure remains strong.

“Thought you were trying to make an honest Omega out of me, Barnes?”

“Come with me to the restroom, and I’ll make an honest Omega outta you right now.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice.

It’s not the most romantic spot, truthfully, to fool around, but Tony Stark has allowed Bucky to kiss him in secluded alleyways that smell a little like dumpster and against splintered doorways that dig into his back, so he’s not overly picky.

So when Bucky gets his hands on Tony’s waist and his mouth on his throat the way that makes him go fuzzy in the head, Tony almost forgets that they’re surrounded by leaking faucets and suspiciously stained urinals.

Almost.

“What if—oh—someone walks in?” he gasps, referring to the four (maybe five, if he’s being generous) other patrons currently occupying the establishment.

“Then they’ll get dinner and a show,” Bucky rasps. He captures Tony’s mouth again before the Omega can squawk in protest and Tony grips his belt for purchase, his whole body useless and pliant. His response to Bucky is always easy and physical, preparing itself for any likely scenario—the warm coiling in his belly and rush of slick that graces his underwear reminding him that yes, that scenario could easily include a random toilet in some sleazy Brooklyn pub.

Bucky always kisses Tony like he has all the time in the world to do so. The intensity changes, as does the urgency, but Tony’s learning that he likes these kisses with Bucky best. Deep, slow. Hard and bruising. The flat of his tongue curling around Tony’s and caressing his own like he’s trying to swallow the sighs and moans right out of the Omega’s throat.

Bucky takes and Tony gives, as much as he can, and he’s rewarded with the glorious ebb and flow of the Alpha’s heady scent. Encasing Tony in a fog thick enough to suffocate him.

“You smell so good,” Bucky growls, voice low. His warm breath fans across Tony’s cheek. “Jesus. Why do you smell so fuckin’ good?”

“That would be eau de toilette. Try not to inhale any more bleach; I think it’s messing with your synapses.” It’s unfair, really, because Bucky smells delectable, too. Practically indecent, really, for a public restroom.

There’s a predatory gleam to the Alpha’s eye that makes Tony think that he won’t be leaving the building with his dignity (or his underwear) intact, and Bucky’s grip tightens on his hip as he moves to drop his mouth back onto Tony’s, but they’re both interrupted, suddenly.

A small, choked sob echoes from stall behind them.

Both boys freeze instantly.

“Did you hear th—” Bucky starts, and Tony slaps a hand over his mouth. His heart takes a stuttering, stacatto beat in his chest.

Another stifled sob. This one louder than the previous.

And there’s no way that Tony isn’t the one hallucinating this time—that he isn’t the one who inhaled too many floor-cleaning chemicals—because he knows the source of that blubbering. He could recognize it in his sleep.

His poker face must be utter shit, because Bucky looks at him in alarm. “Do you know him?” he asks, his hands trailing down to Tony’s elbows. Steadying him.

Tony swallows audibly. “No. Nope.”

A loud, wet sniffle chimes in from the stall.

“Tony?”

Tony curses.

Bucky’s hand tightens on his arm. Tony drops his head to the wall behind him, letting it thump against the wood paneling. He closes his eyes and curses the constant, relentless situational irony that seems to plague his life.

“Arnie?” Tony replies. He scrubs a hand over his face. “S’that you, Roth?”

Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong—

“Hi, Tony,” the voice hiccups. Then, from the seclusion of the corner bathroom stall where he’s huddled away, Arnie Roth bursts into tears.

Tony stares at the ceiling helplessly.

Bucky cocks an eyebrow and turns his head to face Arnie’s outburst. His gaze darts between Tony and Tony’s weeping roommate. Whatever he sees in Tony’s face must make him hesitate, however, and something heartbreakingly gentle slashes across his own features.

Feeling raw and all sorts of strange, he pulls out of Bucky’s embrace and strides over to the stall. “Roth?” He raps his knuckles on the door. “Roth, I can see you sitting down there. Not very seemly, by the way. Probably getting all sorts of weird stains on those nice slacks of yours.”

“M’okay,” the Omega says wobbly. “Floor’s clean.”

Tony’s nose wrinkles. He narrowly avoids stepping on a piece of toilet roll. “Think we have slightly different hygienic standards, but, alright. Sure. Wanna open up?”

He waits. Nothing happens.

He turns to Bucky and shrugs.

“I tried,” he mouths.

Bucky sends him an exasperated look. He’s still standing in the corner of the restroom, guarding the door. Giving Tony space.

Giving Arnie space.

Tony rolls his eyes. He knocks on the door again.

“C’mon, Arnie. Can’t a fella say hi to his favorite roommate?”

“I was your only roommate,” Arnie sniffs primly. “Your favorite roommate was yourself.”

Bucky’s mouth quirks.

Miraculously, the stall door clicks open.

Arnie Roth is as drunk as a skunk. His eyes are glazed with tears and intoxication; his clothes are wrinkled, and he sits with his bony arms wrapped around his knees. His skin is as sunken and pallid as a ghost, and he reeks of booze and distress and Tony fights the instinctual urge to recoil.

“Hey, pal,” Tony says instead. “You look great.” The acid in his stomach does somersaults, urging him to get lost and seek immediate comfort in the arms of his Alpha. He wants to pull his own hair out. He wants to spit the terrible taste in his mouth onto the floor. “How’s the bender?”

Arnie groans and drops his forehead onto the rim of the open toilet. Delightful.

“M’drunk,” he says miserably.

“Uh-huh, I can see that,” Tony replies, whipping around and shooting a frantic look at Bucky. He doesn’t know what sort of desperation he’s signaling, precisely, but Bucky’s locking the restroom door and standing over his shoulder in an instant. Tony can smell the exact moment Bucky perceives Arnie in all his boozed-up glory—an Omega reacting to another Omega’s distress is one thing; an Alpha reacting to an Omega’s distress is an entirely different innate, primal beast.

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters.

Even Arnie swims through his inebriated stupor long enough to latch onto Bucky’s pheromones. He squints at the intrusion, nostrils flaring. 

“Alpha?” He mumbles.

“Not quite,” Tony bites out. He edges closer to Bucky until his shoulder blade presses into the Alpha’s sternum. Bucky grazes his knuckles against the small of his back.“Where’s… Marcus?”

Arnie frowns. “Michael?”

“Sure. Him.”

Arnie groans and drops his head back onto the toilet bowl. The unexpected pull drags the wrinkled collar of his shirt downward, revealing the pale, veiny stretch of his neck.

Tony chokes on a high-pitched, strained whine that punches out of his lungs when he’s met with the sight of Arnie’s mating bite. Red, tender. Fresh. Something ugly and visceral pools in his gut and blood pounds in his ears, hot and heavy like thunder.

He tries to stagger back, but his feet won’t move. His hand instinctively twitches for his own throat before he aborts the movement. He feels the burn of Arnie’s mating bite as if it has been seared onto his own flesh. Hot and blistering, like a brand.

For better or for worse, Tony made a conscious effort to avoid thinking about Arnie after his sixteen-year-old roommate was pulled from school. Two months earlier, Arnie’s situation served as both a cautionary tale and a sobering reminder. If Tony wasn’t vigilant, if he didn’t play his cards right, he risked becoming Arnie: stripped of his own choices, forced to bond with some undesirable outcast for whatever social, political, or financial gain his parents deemed fit.

A distant, logical part of Tony knew what Arnie’s fate had in store. He knew that Arnie would go home, succumb to his heat, and emerge several days later biologically linked to an Alpha. He sat through class. He skimmed the textbooks. He knew the science.

He detached himself from Arnie because it didn’t matter that Arnie was the only other male Omega Tony had ever known. They weren’t the same. Tony wasn’t weak like Arnie; he wasn’t compliant like Arnie; he wasn’t going to roll over and show his belly to the first Alpha his parents threw at him. 

And then Tony met Bucky.

And Bucky pressed his thumb into Tony’s unblemished mating gland and whispered soft promises into the base of his throat, and Tony could almost picture the Alpha’s canines sinking into the skin and he wanted it, in that moment. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, more than he ever even knew he could want. His teeth ached with it.

And suddenly that unfathomable, corporeal promise of bonding didn’t feel so abhorrent. His desires didn’t feel like a consequence of his biology. Tony simply craved, without worrying about the repercussions. And for a few quiet, peaceful moments, his desire didn’t feel like something he had to fight.

Tony wonders if Arnie had wanted it. At the height of his heat, most likely fogged up and overwhelmed by pheromones, controlled by pleasure and need, he felt like he wanted it, too. At least for a moment.

Tony stares at Arnie’s mating bite and it taunts him like a punishment. A cruel reminder of Tony’s ugliest insecurities, his projections onto the Omega boy in front of him who didn’t deserve Tony’s internal scorn just because Tony couldn’t come to terms with his own bleak kismet.

Bucky releases a low rumble, and his hand drifts up to barely ghost the back of Tony’s neck. The Alpha’s pheromones pierce the bathroom to cloud Tony’s own—a terrible concoction of confusion, anxiety, and ill-timed arousal in response to his momentary lapse in judgement.

“Dinner. We were at dinner. ‘Cross the street. Down the street? Dunno,” Arnie slurs. He rubs a palm across his clammy forehead. “Ran into… his friends. From work. They joined. Ignored me. Which is fine. They were borin’.” A loud sniffle. “Had to use the men’s room, but they wouldn’t… wouldn’t let me in, without Michael. Without m’Alpha. ‘An he was busy. So I left. T’find a different bathroom. Didn’t even… didn’t even notice, I don’t think.”

Like most public places requiring Tony to have a chaperone after his presentation, it’s not uncommon for upscale establishments to require male Omegas to be accompanied to and from restrooms. For the Omega's safety and to avoid distracting other male patrons, which is straight crock, mind you, and Tony would sometimes just like to take a piss in peace, thank you very much.

“Ended up here. And… and I was alone. No Michael. Some men were real nice ‘an bought me drinks ‘an stuff. Said I was real pretty.”

“I’ll bet,” Tony grumbles.

“Dunno… dunno what happened. Never drank before. Wasn’t ‘llowed. Dunno if—if I like it. Tastes weird. Head hurts. Stomach hurts.”

And then Arnie’s yacking into the toilet.

Tony lurches forward, throwing himself to his knees to sweep the younger Omega’s hair back as he empties his guts and sorrows into the basin. Bucky curses and kneels next to Tony, rubbing a hand up and down Arnie’s sweat-drenched back.

“That’s it, pal," Bucky murmurs gently. His voice is a soft hum, mirroring the tone he used with Tony when Tony broke down blubbering over something inconsequential during the weekend, and Tony shudders instinctively. Even though he isn’t the one retching up cheap liquor. “Easy, that’s it. Get it all out.”

Arnie trembles beneath their grip, and Tony does his best to refrain from wincing as he blinks up at the ceiling and wonders how he went from necking with Bucky against the wall to holding his vomitous ex-roommate in his arms in a matter of minutes.

Bucky continues to soothe Arnie as the younger boy heaves and sobs, muttering gentle encouragements that make Tony feel bizarrely territorial. He bottles up his horrifically misplaced envy as best as he can while pushing Arnie’s bangs off his forehead, as this is clearly not the time, but the look Bucky shoots him over Arnie’s slumped body lets him know that the Alpha can detect it.

Bucky’s lips twitch and Tony stabs his tongue into his cheek and recognizes quickly that the two of them are completely ill-equipped to handle a situation of this emotional magnitude.

He wishes Steve were here.

“Where’s Matthew now?” Tony asks the ceiling.

“Michael,” Bucky interjects.

“No clue. Prolly out lookin’ for me.” Arnie says, and then pukes some more. Bucky grimaces and pats the Omega on the back. Tony glares at his hand.

“How long have you been hiding in your porcelain tower, Rapunzel?”

Arnie groans and bats Tony’s hand away. “T’many questions. No more questions.”

Bucky takes over. He pulls Tony away and pushes his palm for Arnie’s forehad. Arnie sags. “C’mon, Arnie. Help us out here, you’re doin’ so well. How long ago did you leave the restaurant, kid?”

The Omega whimpers. Tony feels like strangling something.

Or drowning his ex-roommate in the toilet.

Bucky, to his infinite credit, shoots him an apologetic look over his shoulder. Tony glares back.

“Not that long. Maybe… maybe that long. Like, twenty minutes?” Arnie pauses for several seconds. “Oh, no. S’not right. Maybe an’ hour. Or longer.”

“Fabulous,” Tony says.

“We need to find his Alpha,” Bucky says, always the voice of reason. “But I don’t wanna leave him like this.” He’s still holding Arnie upright. Tony resists the urge to grind his molars.

“I don’t… I’m not sure what he looks like. I never met him, or anything,” He says uselessly.

“I’m not leavin’ you here either, sweet boy.” Nothing about Tony feels particularly sweet at the moment, but the endearment is an olive branch to Tony’s hostile body language, so he accepts it begrudgingly. Bucky’s smooth Brooklyn drawl is an easy weakness of his. “We’ll wait ’til he sobers up a little. It’ll help, getting it out of his system.”

“Thank you,” Tony says instead. It comes out as a whisper. He’s sitting on the floor now, cleanliness be damned. His energy has been fully zapped. He gestures to Arnie vaguely. “For… you know.”

Bucky’s expression morphs into something soft, something belongs to Tony and Tony alone. Tony holds it close to his chest. “Don’t have to thank me, doll. What were we gonna do, leave him?”

In response, Arnie echoes something unintelligible into the toilet and then: “Don’ leave me. Feels nice. You feel nice.”

Tony snorts. “I take it back. That’s enough acts of service for one day.”

Bucky’s frowning at Arnie now. “What’s his Alpha like?” He whispers.

Tony shrugs. “Older. Teacher. Has kids, if I remember. Liable for negligence, clearly.”

“How much older?”

Tony picks at a loose thread on his pants. “Late thirties? Early forties, maybe? Could’ve been worse.” It’s the truth.

Bucky says nothing for a long moment. And then: “He’s bonded.”

Tony nods. “Noticed that, myself.”

“M’bonded,” Arnie garbles helpfully.

“That’s right, pal,” Tony says. “Was it everything you hoped and dreamed?” Arnie Roth, with his kind, supportive parents and his hopeless sexual naivety and eager willingness to sacrifice his body for the pipe dream of securing an Alpha who would keep him safe and protected from harm.

Fat lot of good that did him.

Tony doesn’t expect Arnie to answer, so it startles him when the Omega lifts his head, wipes at his mouth, and leans his head back against the wall behind him. Bucky pulls away but keeps his hands braced until Arnie steadies himself.

“Don’ remember much of the bonding,” Arnie says quietly. His eyes are glazed over, unfocused, like he’s talking to himself. “Think I blacked out, by the end.” Tony swallows. He drifts in and out of his own heats, sometimes. When the sensations become too much to bear. “Woke up with the bite. Hurt for a while. Felt different. Could feel… him.” He blinks rapidly a few times, and Tony suddenly wants to reach across and shake the Omega’s shoulders so he doesn’t have to hear anymore.

“Let’s not,” Tony says instead, knowing where a bout of liquid courage combined with a loose mouth can lead. He wants to change the subject but he’s paralyzed, and Bucky’s gazing at him like he doesn’t know what to do, leaving Tony with his jaw wired shut.

Arnie’s expression clears, briefly, and he blinks up at Tony like he suddenly remembers the other Omega is sharing the cramped stall with him. “Y’told me it wouldn’t hurt, once. Before… before I left. You said—you said it’s what we’re s’posed to do.”

“Arnie,” Tony warns.

“Yeah, you did. You said that t’me. You smelled scared, though. Knew you didn’t believe it. What you were sayin’. But I trusted you anyway. And then… and then…” Arnie swallows, and rubs at his eyes, and Tony’s heart plummets into his stomach.

Perpendicular to him, Bucky shifts. Tony can’t bring himself to look at him. He wants to disappear.

“Roth,” Tony bites out sharply. “Shut the fuck up.”

“S’not so bad, every time. Not when… when my body wants it. Like in heat. But sometimes—sometimes, it still hurts. Just thought… y’should know.”

There’s no sound, for several moments. Just the roaring of Tony’s pulse in his own ears.

Tony studies his knees. He yanks hard enough on the loose thread to rip a hole into the fabric at his kneecap. His fingers tremble.

Bucky avoids Tony’s gaze entirely. He stares at the floor with a blazing intensity sharp enough to burn holes into the linoleum.

He smells murderous.

Arnie, blissfully aware of his verbal detonation, lolls his head toward the bathroom door.

“Oh,” he says simply. “Michael.”

Tony and Bucky snap their heads up in sync. The bathroom door is locked.

“No one there, buddy,” Tony croaks. His vocal chords feel as though they’ve been severed by a serated knife.

“Can smell him,” Arnie says simply.

The banging on the door starts two seconds later.

Michael Bech is tall but not as tall as Bucky, with a full head of white hair. His skin is tan and his belly a little soft, and he has smile lines.

For someone whose biological companion has supposedly been missing for more over an hour, he doesn't smell particularly distressed. He tsks when he pulls a moaning, barf-covered Arnie into his arms, and cracks a joke about “Omegas and alcohol consumption, amiright?”

“Couldn’t find this one anywhere, thought he walked all the way back to Manhattan,” Michael says, eyes crinkling. “Had to check every building on the row. Nice fellas at the bar finally told me they saw a wisp of a thing stumble into this here pub, smelling like a fresh rose, and I thought, ’Yep, sure sounds like my Arnie’.”

Arnie sighs and tucks his face into Michael’s neck. Tony turns away.

Michael thanks Bucky for his help, and Bucky shakes his hand with a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Michael doesn’t acknowledge Tony, but he spares him a fleeting, curious glance and says, “Anyhow, sorry for all the trouble. You know how Omegas can be.”

Tony ignores him, accustomed to the slight, but Bucky openly bristles.

Michael tugs Arnie’s collar up over his throat before they leave.

“Call me, if you can,” Bucky whispers. They’re outside The Institute, and Tony is looking anywhere but the Alpha. His blood feels like lead in his veins.

“Sure,” he says. He scrapes at a rock with his shoe.

“Tony,” Bucky says, more firmly. “Tony. Sweetheart. I need to know you’re alright. Can you do that for me? If you have a moment, just… give me ring.” The words sound distorted in Tony’s ears. Warped.

A firm hand grips his chin. “Doll.”

“Mhmm,” Tony answers.

Tony doesn’t like the way Bucky smells. Well, he does—he always likes the way Bucky smells. But right now, Bucky smells like he did when he found Tony in his window. It makes his jaw ache. It burns inside his nostrils, acrid and oversensitive.

In fact, every minute twinge in his body feels heightened. His neck feels stiff, and there’s a dull pounding behind his eyes. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He feels like scratching himself. Or clawing at his skin.

He also feels like sagging into Bucky’s neck and disassociating. Surrendering his thoughts and his body to the Alpha in front of him, who will surely take away the pain and soothe out the ache, if Tony just lets him.

But he can’t. So he just blinks at the street lamps and grinds his teeth and supresses the swooping, churning feeling in his belly and ignores the way his glands throb when Bucky grips his chin a little tighter and lets his vision go a little unfocused.

Tony doesn’t know what Bucky detects, but the Alpha’s pupils dilate in the reflection of the streetlight and he presses his forehead to Tony’s. The Alpha’s body is taut, full of restrained tension.

“Omega,” he murmurs softly. Oh.

Tony sighs.

“Call me, tomorrow night. When you get home. I don’t care how late. Can you do that for me, sweet thing? Can you try and promise me?”

Tony nods slowly.

Bucky exhales visibly. “Good. Good boy. Thank you. As late as you need, okay? Just need t’hear your voice.” Tony trembles at the praise, like Bucky knew he would. When he falls into the Alpha’s embrace, Bucky’s arms are there to catch him.

“I’ll miss you this weekend,” Bucky says into his hair. “Who else is gonna hog all the covers?”

Tony nips at his collarbone. “S’only way to get you t’stop kickin’ in your sleep.” He feels so warm. He feels sore. Every inhalation of Bucky’s woodsy, wintery musk feels like sensory overload. “M’sorry,” he says before he can stop himself.

Bucky’s arms lock around him like a vice.

“What’re you sorry for, baby?”

What is he sorry for? Tony hides in Bucky’s shirt. He could suffocate happily here, he thinks.

“Tony?” Bucky’s hand comes up to lightly scratch at the hair at the base of Tony’s neck, and Tony’s spine goes lax. He drops his head back and shudders. “Words, gorgeous. Talk to me.”

Tony scrunches up his nose. He doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants Bucky to kiss him.

He wants Bucky to fuck him.

The thought has him swallowing down a moan. God, he wants Bucky to fuck him. He needs it. He would be so perfect for him, and Bucky would make him feel so good, he knows it. His cock perks in interest, and he shivers and presses his hips into Bucky’s thigh to seek out friction.

Bucky goes still. “Tony,” he warns.

Tony likes the way Bucky says his name. Low, and gravelly. He wonders what the Alpha’s voice would sound like saying other things.

The things that Bucky says in his dreams.

Large hands cradle his face. Blown pupils find his own. Bucky peers down at him, expression carefully guarded. He presses a thumb into Tony’s cheek, steadily adding pressure to pull Tony back down to Earth.

“What’s goin’ on, Tony?” Bucky’s thumb traces the slant of his cheekbone. Tony blinks at him blearily. “You smell…” The Alpha stops, mouth twisting. His nostrils twitch, and so does Tony’s prick. “Is this because of Arnie? What he said?”

No, Tony doesn’t want to think about Arnie. He doesn’t want to dwell on anything that the other Omega said—the way he blabbed all of Tony’s darkest, most shameful insecurities out loud in a public restroom stall, of all places. Right in front of Bucky.

“I’ve gotta go,” Tony says—mumbles, really—and pulls out of Bucky’s grip. “I’ve gotta—I’ve got. Homework. Studying.”

“Tony.”

“I’ll call you. Promise. I’ll try. From the Jarvises’ phone. Tomorrow night.”

“Tony.” Bucky reaches for him but Tony flinches out of his touch, and the Alpha’s hands drop to his sides. The look on his Bucky’s face morphs into hurt and Tony has to look away so his own despair doesn’t chew at his insides.

“Don’t do this, Tony. Not after last weekend. Talk to me, sweetheart. M’not going anywhere.”

“I’m okay,” Tony says. “Really. I’m… I’m fine. I’m great.”

Tony doesn’t know what he is, exactly. But he’s not great. And he’s probably not fine, or even remotely okay, really.

And he knows this, for certain, twenty-four hours later.

When he’s sitting around his family’s dining room table, stuffed into another godforsaken suit, sandwiched between his mother and Tiberius Stone.

Feverish. Burning. Plummeting straight into heat.

[badchoicesworld]

Hello hello :)

I hope you're having a good day!

May I request Hobie and Spider-Noir with a s/o who cries a lot?

Not only out of sadness, but out of everything. They're happy? They cry. They're frustrated? They cry. It's just their body's natural reaction to any intense emotion. Even like, if they're listening to a song that itches their brain just right, boom, tears (talking of personal experience, me? Absolutely.)

I'm just kinda insecure about my crying habits lol, I need reassurance. (I cried to System Of A Down and Slipknot, send help)

Thank you and sending lotsa love :)

hobie brown and spider-noir with an s/o that cries a lot !

ok, first i wanna stress that you should never feel insecure about your natural bodily functions- ever. crying is completely natural and a normal way to express any type of feeling, so i hope you gain a little confidence in your ability to feel so strongly :] it’s a beautiful thing

second, you should check out demon slayer in you haven’t, there’s this character that always cries at everything and he’s the strongest ! gyomei my love

third, these are kinda short and i’m very sorry, i struggled w noir

separate scenarios

warnings: crying ?? insecurity ?

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader, spider-noir x gn!reader

requests: refer to this bad boy

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i bet hobie’s one of them guys that gives out great advice about mental health or just in general and doesn’t take his own advice

he’s too cool to cry, he claims

but suddenly it’s not cool for everyone else to NOT cry

also uses common sense and figures that crying is a completely natural reaction when you feel any type of emotion, won’t be embarrassed by you if you start bawling your eyes out in public if you happen to feel happy to be spending time together

he just smiles and rubs your back, shaking his head but in a playful way since this is a common occurrence

does one of those side hug things where he hooks his arm around your neck and squeezes you to his side a few times, talking about “let it out”

it’s nice in a way, he knows that you’re crying cause you’re happy to be spending time with him

he’s close buddies with pav who i can also see crying at a lot of things, man’s not judgemental

and he can of course understand crying at sad things ! if you two are kicked back one day and you’re violently bawling at a movie that’s meant to be a tear jerker, he’s not gonna shame you

he’s probably thinking about how accomplished the movie directors must be/feel while simultaneously shaming the big company who produced it

it’s nothing new and he’d rather not address it directly by asking you each time if you’re okay when you cry, he imagined it would get irritating and make you feel like it’s wrong

so he probably does something to show he’s there, an arm around your shoulder, maybe he ruffles your hair or something if you’re excited crying (i do this w my special interests, there’s no shame)

overall, hobie just wants you to feel comfortable enough to cry at all- this stuff should be normalised after all, no reason to even justify it to begin with

he may even encourage you to cry, get it out your system

he definitely understands frustrated crying, i imagine he’s a man who’s had his fair share of frustrations and sometimes crying is the only way to cope

if it bothers you so much, he might try introducing you to other coping mechanisms that he personally does

encourages you to get into music, play an instrument, do something spontaneous with your appearance

if he ever catches you crying over one of his own creations, the man’s floored with this appreciation

the last fucking thing he’ll do is ever make you feel guilty for crying, he’s having none of that and he’ll silently scowl in such disgust at the people that do

it’s not cool to shame peoples emotions, no invalidation here

if he’s in the right mood and you’re crying for something, happily he might just hype you up honestly

go bestie go, cry your eyes out

noir

someone else who sees nothing wrong with crying- he admittedly associates it most with grief so definitively panics the first few times he sees you crying at anything

but explain how crying is your response to everything and he’ll relax

he’s probably envious of your ability to feel so strongly about everything, since he struggles to feel a thing

the man literally lets matches burn to his fingertips out of hopes of feeling anything

that being said, he doesn’t want you to think like you now get to feel ungrateful for your tendencies to cry at everything since he envies it- crying is still taxing as fuck and you’re entitled to your own functions, he just wished he could take a page or two from your book

nine times outta ten he will probably assume each time that you’re crying out of sadness, he’s horrible at reading the room

it’s a pretty instant reaction from him to ask what’s wrong and assume the worst, man’s is instantly ready to start a fight if you’re crying for something bad that’s happened

makes a really big deal out of hugging you and dramatically wrapping his coat around you before suspiciously listing all of your enemies

he’s more of a “cheer up, sport” kinda guy and is a lot more insistent about talking to him about your feelings

partly because he want to understand the feelings, mostly because he wants to help you

probably cites some old 30’s techniques on how to make your face less puffy after crying if it bothers you- a really bizarre remedy

he’s also heard some more modern techniques, like chewing gum when cutting onions

he assumes that works for crying as a whole

happy crying takes him some time to wrap around his head, but he’ll get it

it’s a little surprising to him at first that you cry at every little thing, but that’s okay

he cant imagine that he’ll ever get over that initial surprise, seeing you cry at all immediately catches his attention - he’ll eventually stop assuming it’s bad, but he does attempt to comfort you each time without fail

you could be crying in such joy and he’ll fail to read the room, strokes your head while talking to you like you’re a dog that’s just had their paw stepped on

thinks he’s helping an incredible amount, has a small ego boost when he does successfully comfort you

he really does embrace it instead of trying to avoid it, which he imagined would be arrogant anyway

he’s envious, overall

good for you for being so in touch with your emotions

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

IM SORRY THIS KINDA SUCKS IM BAD AT CRYING

[perzawa]

can we get sum piercer!toji x first timer fem!reader drabble/oneshot pretty pleaseeee 😳😋

a/n: AA yes ofc, i love this sm, i believe in piercer/tattoo artist toji supremacy 

warnings/tags! semi public sex?? fem reader, piercer!toji, oral, praise kink 

“just gonna push this through here,” he starts, instantly pushing the sharp needle through the skin of your nose. you wince, eyes pricking with hot tears. a grin of confidence stretches on your lips. your eyes stay shut while you bask in the feeling of a cold metal stud sliding through your nose. it stings, but only for a second. his rough hand gently grips your chin as he smiles down at you. the scar on his lips causes a familiar feeling to spread in the depth of your stomach. 

“you were cryin’ so much before, but now look,” his thumb caresses your bottom lip as a demented expression overtakes his face. “took it so well, didn’t you?” 

you wipe your tears on the back of your hand and nod quickly, his approval filling you with warmth. your eyes dart to the ground and your face flushes when you think about toji’s promise to you. “can i…” you attempt to hide your face in your hands, but he stops you - your chin finding its way into his hand once again. “can i have my reward?”

toji brings your lips to his in a quick peck, his free hand squeezing the fat of your thigh. his scar is rough against your lip. you exhale hard, grabbing the hand on his thigh and pulling it between your thighs. “i’ll give it to you as promised, sweetheart.”

“so needy,” he whispers. roughly grabbing your hips and pulling them closer toward his torso. your eyebrows furrow once you feel his bulge press against your heat, grinding slowly. your shaky hands fly to the collar of his shirt, hips rolling in order to meet his. the bulge of his cock rubbing against your clothed clit makes you eager to pull your skirt up and panties to the side. “we can do whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

his cock feels so hard against you. feels so good. your brain short circuits when his hips roll down on your warm pussy harder, hand gently squeezing your hips. whimpers and unintelligible words fall from your lips as you take it, your body erupting in tingles and goosebumps. 

when it becomes too much, you have to gather the strength to push him away. “touch me, please. i was so good for you.” your thighs rub against each other desperately. 

toji only nods, advising you to lie back on the cot. he drops to his knees as he spread your legs wide open for him. his tooth sunk into his lip as if to control himself after seeing you this way. the cool air hit you and a gasp escaped your mouth. “this is what good girls get.” he breathed on your bare pussy, the flat of his tongue colliding with your heat. you shivered, fingers flying into his dark locks in an attempt to have him closer – if that’s even possible. 

you feel too dirty. this is the fourth time you’ve even spoken to the artist, only coming when your friends were getting piercings. somehow, your first time with him alone you end up on your back and his face between your thighs. 

you can only blame him for this.

his gravelly voice that makes your chest buzz just right. him and the scent of coffee and peppermints weighing heavily on his tongue. you can only think of his tongue and the way it runs over your clit, muscle flicking the sensitive bud until you’re squirming and heaving.

he chuckles into your cunt as he laps you up, starting from your seeping hole to your pretty little clit. you can barely stop the gentle moans from cascading past your lips, let alone quiet yourself – but you try. 

your body shakes as his tongue lazily licks you up and down, spreading your juices. your thighs press against his cheek as you grind onto his tongue, your head reeling. his eyes meet yours. “oh god,” you breathe out, hips bucking into his face once again. toji pulls away for seconds before pecking your thighs. 

“you gonna use my face like a good girl, hm?” he wriggles the tip of his tongue over your bud, nails digging into your ass. a familiar heat creeps up into your belly and it makes you sob. the flicks of his tongue range from lazy to quick in seconds – it’s so unpredictable, your world is spinning and your pussy is pulsating. your eyes fall shut as you spasm, teeth sinking into your lip while everything goes white. 

little gasps spill from your mouth as you come down from your high, thighs spasming against his hot cheek. your breaths come out uneven and your legs drop. 

“thank- god, thank you.” 

toji gives your pussy another lick before pulling away. 

the way your slick looks so perfect covering his lips has you in shambles. you exhale, eyes staring into his. you hope you’ll be coming back for another piercing, soon.

[moongumi]

Gojo x Reader, where in school reader and gojo are super touchy touchy making geto and ieiri confused and concerned 😛😛 and they keep telling the others that they're just friend but like they go back to the dorms and fuck like bunnies

just so close

pairing: gojo x f!reader

⟶ cw. fem!reader, fwb, smut, humour, fingering, semi-public sex, secret relationship, unprotected sex, ass-play, mentions of anal.

sypnosis: request gojo and you have a strange relationship that your friends can't stand.

⟶ wc. 1.6k

a/n: hiya, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! requests are also open for similar things! this request is a bit shorter than most n you know my love for open ended endings :)))

just so close // behave

“You cryin’?”

Gojo Satoru stands tall and proud, cackling at his friend who’s managed to trip on her own two feet whilst shopping. The friend throws a heavy slap his way, without his infinity on all the time he feels the impact against his soft cheeks-he was laughing so hard his eyes were completely shut and couldn’t even avoid it.

You scoff, crossing your arms, “Are you?”

Satoru holds his precious cheeks, reddening and pulsing under his palm. “You are rude.”

From the distance, Shoko and Suguru walk up towards them after the other two had run off looking for mochi ever since they left the train station. They see their classmates fighting over a box of mochi, yelling in each other's faces.

“It’s mine, Satoru─”

“But I finished mine!” Satoru cries, whining like a child.

Shoko sighs as she approaches you, “Satoru come on, just go buy more.”

You nod quickly agreeing with her in hopes he’d let go of your precious box. Satoru scoffs, letting go and huffing, “It tastes better when you eat someone else’s.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

As the day goes by they all decided to see a new movie after they walked by a large poster advertising some new horror movie. After class and all the training, they wanted to let loose, and what other way to do that than do literally nothing!

You ask for a soda and popcorn, getting a large knowing someone is bound to eat your food. “Satoru, what flavour popcorn?”

“Sweet! Anything else is disgusting!” You roll your eyes, of course, he’d want it sweet. If you were alone you’d probably get salted popcorn or buttered, you usually preferred salty things.

You smile at the employee getting what Satoru wanted.

The other three were already in the theatre by the time you were done, the line was so long. Shoko being her snuck in some snacks in her pockets, Suguru well, would never pay for overly expensive cinema food, and Satoru was just waiting for you to bring the food.

You walk into the darkened room, hmm, at least the ads were done but you were missing the first few minutes of the movie. It didn’t really matter since watching this film was just on a whim and you didn’t even know or care what it is about.

Satoru’s eyes light up seeing your hands full, beaming with joy. He’s saved you a seat right next to them, patting it enthusiastically. Shoko puffs her cheeks though, saying, “I thought you were going to sit next to me.”

“Oh, I can─”

Satoru cuts you off, pulling down on your arms and making you sit, “Nope, she’s sitting with me. Get your own friend.”

“She’s not just your friend, Satoru! We’re all friends, oh my god─you’re so annoying!” Shoko shouts, biting into her chocolate bar. Suguru laughs at the argument, only placing a finger on his lips to tell them that they should keep quiet in a cinema.

You knit your eyebrows, “Sorry, Shoko we can go shopping just us two at some point.” You give her two thumbs up and she nods excitedly, sticking her tongue out at Satoru who pouts after being left out.

The cinema seat was really small, Satoru’s arms steal the two armrests but it wasn’t like you were going to use them. But still, his arms weren’t even that big but he was just tall so he kinda just floods over the seat, his shoulder nudging into yours endlessly without an escape.

He senses your discomfort with the little space, throwing his arm over your shoulders instead. Shuffling you accept the change, getting comfortable. Suguru sends you a weird look which you shot back, throwing a handful of your popcorn at him making Satoru chuckle.

Satoru with his dark uniformed arm around you and pulls you closer, even throwing the armrest back making your sides attach. It was a lot comfier.

He grabs some popcorn, well a bit too much, shoving the entire thing in your mouth, “Damn, it’s not going anywhere, you don’t need to choke on it.”

He scoffs, “Just cus’ you can’t fit much in your tiny mouth doesn’t mean I can’t.” He taps your lips with his thumb, teasing you.

You click your tongue, taking a sip of your coca-cola.

No one else seemed to bat an eye at this, why would they? To anyone else, it would seem as if you two were a couple but to Shoko and Suguru they stared at their friend with wild eyes. They look at each other, wondering if the other was seeing what they were seeing.

Suguru couldn’t shake the feeling that Satoru was definitely staring at your lips in a much more than friendly way, because it wasn’t like Suguru was doing that to you. Shoko notices the way your body molds into Satoru’s, affectionately snuggling into his large frame. The last time you were so soft with a guy was with your ex-Kento-kun.

Shoko’s lips twitch and she taps Suguru, whispering in his ear, “We cannot let this happen, they can’t.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

Shoko snaps her fingers, “An intervention.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The white-haired infinity-wielding boy sits behind you whilst you played a video game in your dorm. With you on his lap, resting his head on your shoulder, “Don’t forget to heal.”

“Pft, I know how to play this game.”

You didn’t really sense any difference, Satoru always did this. He puts his arms around your waist basically using you as a body pillow as he scrolls on his phone. You stayed like this for a while, sat on his thick thighs, and focused on passing the mission in your game.

Until Shoko busts into your room pointing her finger accusatorially. “See! Suguru, I was right.”

Satoru blinks, indifferent, “Huh?”

“I told you, they’re way too touchy.”

Suguru tries to put together the pieces, well, the evidence seems very clear but he didn’t want to put you on the spot. “Well, do you see anything weird about this?”

He was asking you, making your eyes twitch, “Erm, what do you mean?”

“You’re on Satoru’s lap, you guys are always together, touching each other ways friends don’t!” Suguru explained, pointing at a bored-looking Satoru, “And he’s got his infinity off!”

“He’s always got it off─” You say, turning to face Satoru and he nods.

Suguru clicks his tongue standing at the door, “No he doesn't, he had it on this morning when I threw a pancake at him.”

You laugh, “Well that’s because you threw a pancake at him, I don’t see what you two are seeing. Like I guess we’re touchy but I’d sit on your lap too, Suguru.”

Satoru chokes a bit, dropping his phone, “Eh?”

“Exactly! If you two end up making this complicated and it messes up our friendship blame yourselves, I’m just warning you because you two seem a little too friendly, I’m over it!” Shoko drags Suguru out the door with some angry stomps leaving a really flushed you sitting on Satoru’s lap.

You cock your head, “Are we really that touchy?”

Satoru shrugs, cascading his palm from your waist down to your skirt hem. “Maybe.” His fingers tap and tease, getting closer and closer to the heat. His large hands reach your clothed heat, where nothing but your underwear covers it.

“We’re lucky they didn’t see─” He mutters, pulling on your shirt collar and kissing down your neck leaving wet marks, “Start moving again, it feels good.”

He tugs on what remains of your panties that had been moved aside under your skirt. Tightly pulled against the fat of your lips, you were definitely lucky no one told you guys to get up, or else they would’ve noticed Satoru’s cock was deep inside of your dripping cunt. His finger pulls and teases your clit, making you twitch on his lap whilst trying to play the game.

He was only reminding you of what to do since you were sort of going dumb trying to ride his cock and focus on the mission at hand. Biting your lips you worried that your friends were only a couple of doors away, completely clueless with how far your relationship with Satoru had already gone beyond just friends.

His legs are spread under you whilst you were kneeling on your legs and knees over his lap, it didn’t seem weird at all if you didn’t focus on it but the angle of which his cock is pressing allowed nearly the entire length to bottom out.

“Oh, shit. Yea, keep rolling your hips like that─” Satoru moans, still watching that video on his phone. “Mhm, your pussy is so wet─huh? Did you like almost getting caught, you kept clenching on me I almost died holding my breath.”

You sit up purposefully letting him almost fall out before sitting back down dragging down on the length hearing a guttural moan leave his lips uncontrollably, “You’re the one that enjoyed that, always trying things in public and when our friends are nearby.”

It wasn’t clear how it got to that point but in the cinema, Satoru had that had he wrapped around your shoulder down the back of your skirt, fingers deep in your pussy the entire time. He’d curl it, enjoying the way you’d shift and freeze up next to him.

He throws his head back, flustered and completely red from pleasure, “I know─I know. But it’s fucking hot, you looking at me like that, eyes practically asking me to bend you over and defile you. Fuck!”

His fingers flip up your skirt, and he pulls away from the cloth of your panties again revealing your quivering tight hole, “Are you into butt-stuff?”

“Never tried it.” You answered him quickly, moving your hips and playing the game much more casually now. He didn’t like it, he liked it when you struggled, whimpered, and cried on his dick.

“You wanna?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

© moongumi 2022. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.

TAGLIST: @emiliaserpe @cookieempress2 @slutforficitionalman @tootle

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[georgiapeach30513]

Keys in Your Ignition, Part 24

Summary: Mr. & Mrs. Steve Rogers’ wedding

Pairings:  Hayden Everett X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, sex in public, a bit of a breeding kink, conversations with Bucky, mentions of a toxic environment, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of therapy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.1K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Steve,” you say softly as you open the door to the groomsman’s suite.  You look around the room, partially concerned that Bucky was going to be there, and mostly because you needed a moment with your brother.  He was making a huge change, and it was all for the better.

“It’s just me.  He hasn’t arrived.”

“I,” you shake your head, walking in quickly.  “I just wanted some time with just you, while we’re both single,” he lifts your hand, running his finger over your ring, and you fight back your tears.  “You like my dress?”

“I like your ring better,” you take a deep breath, and exhale quickly.  “You’re nerdy little fiancé asked me for permission to marry you,” you wipe your eyes, and start to ask him to stop.  “He was so happy.  Came to the apartment after he bought the ring.  You were upstairs sleeping.  He showed it to me.”

“Steven!  This is your day, don’t make this about me,” you give him a little pat, and wave your hands on your face.  “My makeup is finished and paid for, stop trying to mess this up.”

“I’m proud of you, Doll.  I know now that the MC for you wasn’t a good situation, and that’s putting it lightly.  I should have known that the girls that I was using as flesh that someone was doing that to you,” you bite at your lip, and look towards the floor, “We broke the cycle.  And you’re doing so much better than me.  You’re in school, you’re basically raising a daughter, you’ve got a house that you’re turning into a home, you’ve got a dog, and finance that has a practice, and you’re going to be an amazing wife, mother, and soon accountant.”

“Steve!  Stop,” he pulls you into his body, holding you tightly.  His hands running up and down your back.

“I’m so proud of us, Doll.  I didn’t invite them to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know.  Things were different with you and them.”

He pulls you back, his eyes scanning over your face, “You and Hayden can leave anytime that you want to.  I know you’re going to have Sailor for the rest of the weekend, but don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“Ugh,” you hit him a bit hard on his arm, “I won’t be leaving, you’re my brother, not theirs.  I’m happy and okay.  If anyone’s leaving it will be the MC.”

“And if there’s an argument.”

“There will not be.”

“I’m just saying.  Tulip doesn’t like Sailor around that, okay?  I know you will be fine, but you’re in charge of the baby.  And,” you give him a nod, whispering out a thank you.  “Alright, now get out of here.  Go help Tulip with Sailor, and I’ll see you in a few.”

You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself when you spot your handsome fiancé.  Looking every bit like a dream, and your goodest boy with his bow tie on.  He walks up to you, dipping you down for a playful kiss.  Pulling away to giggle at each other, while Bucky turns to go back the way he came.  

He had told himself that he would talk to you, but he couldn’t do it right now.  He looks at the wall in front of him, hoping that you wouldn’t venture down this way, thinking of him as a coward.  He toes the ground a moment before, deciding he needed to go see Steve.  His chance to talk to you was already gone, and you were nowhere to be found.

Hayden pulls you into a bathroom, and starts pulling towels over to you.  Lifting you up to rest on the counter while he dabs at your tears, “What did Steve say to you?” You shake your head, but tap on your knee, needing a bit of Doodle’s warmth.  He lays his head on your knee, and you pet down his nose gently.  “Doll face, what did he say?”

“You asked him for permission to marry me?”

“Well, yeah.  He’s the only family you have left.  Ah!  Stop crying,” he pats your eyes dry, and leans to give you a sweet kiss, “Baby, please stop.”

“It’s such happy tears though.  You gave me as traditional a proposal as you could.  It’s one of my favorite things about you, you understand what I need without me telling you.”

“Because I love you, stupid,” he places his hands on either side of your body, and Doodle groans.  Standing up, only to turn his body away from his parents.  Placing his hand on the back of your head, he gives you a passionate kiss.  The moment your lips touch, your tongues intertwine with each other.  Tasting the beer that lingers in his mouth only makes you want more.

You pull at the hem of your skirt, spreading your thighs further apart, and he plants himself in between.  His hand drops Doodle’s leash, and the dog walks further away.  His back still towards you.  Hayden’s hand snakes up your thigh, pushing aside the gusset of your panties, “You’re wearing string.”

“Shut up,” you pull him back to you by his tie as two fingers push past your entrance, and you moan into his mouth.  Hands going to his pants, and you undo his belt.  Undoing his button, before you pull him out.  With your hand tight around his cock, you lean back on the counter.  Body pressed against the mirror, as Hayden pushes aside your string.

He sinks into your warmth quickly, and Doodle walks over to the other end of the bathroom.  Groaning, but never looking at you, “Trained him well,” Hayden whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Shh, just fuck me,” you pant out.  Your hands gripping his ass, pushing him balls deep into your wet heat.  

“I am, stupid,” you giggle on his lips, and he races to finish quickly.  “People will know you're gone.”

“Then finish me,” Hayden growls, lifting you off the counter.  Jamming his hips up into you while you whimper on him.  “God, you look handsome in a suit.”

“And you look beautiful on my cock.  Too bad I can’t have my cum leaking down your leg.  You gotta look presentable,” he rolls his eyes, crashing his lips back into you, “But we’ll have a baby for a few days, and soon,” his hand presses up against your stomach, and you have to bring him back to your mouth.  Letting him muffle all your sweet sounds as your orgasm rushes into your core.  “Fuck,” he whispers on you, spurting into your cunt.

“Alright, down boy.  I gotta clean myself up.”

“You’re so dirty,” Hayden bites at your neck, lifting you off of him, and you both go to a toilet stall.

“And you’re so horny.”

“You were the one lifting your dress up.  And wearing strings.  What was I supposed to do?” He doesn’t see you smiling, and giggling, “Man, I just got a quickie at my fiancé’s brother’s wedding.  That was amazing,” Doodle groans again, his feet pawing at Hayden’s door.  “I’m sorry Dude.  Your mother is a sex fiend.”

“Shut up,” you say walking out of the stall.  Going to wash your hands, but looking at Hayden who walks behind you with your sweet boy.  “Should we wipe off the counter?”

“Nah, just look at it as getting blessed with your ass on it?”  You roll your eyes, heading to the door, “What?  Do I not get a kiss?”  Stopping at the door, you turn to kiss him.  “I love that you’ve got still a bit of that rebel in you.  You’re not good enough to get dicked down at your brother’s wedding.”

“Don’t go walking around looking like that then.”

“Wait! Does that mean I get a repeat later?” You shrug walking away.  “Doll!  Doll Rogers!  Don’t leave me hanging like that!  Doll!”

“Hayden!” Curtis shouts, poking his head out a door, “Shut up!” Hayden throws his hand up at him, walking Doodle outside to take his seat beside you.  There was no wedding party.  Just Steve and Tulip, and he likes it that way as he chases you out the door.

Bucky tries.  He really does.  He tries to pay attention before the ceremony, but you were just a couple rows in front of him.  You didn’t even turn around to see him come in.  Your head constantly leans over on that man beside you, leaning to the side to kiss on his neck.  Sometimes bending over to pet your dog.  

And when Curtis walks in, leaning down to help Sailor walk down the aisle, holding onto both of his hands, you squeal seeing the little baby.  Picking her up to raise above your head, and bringing her down to smooch all over her squishy face.  Sailor’s couple of teeth shiny and bright as she smiles with her mouth wide open.  

You pull her to her chest, and give her a big hug as she gurgles, “Memememememe.”

Curtis takes a seat beside you, playing with the baby’s curls, but then she reaches for Hayden, and he gets to see the profile of your face.  You looked peaceful.  Serene as you beam at Sailor in his arms.  Bucky feels his breathing pick up, as he starts to have a panic attack.  

“JB,” Ari playfully says as he sits down, and you turn around to look at the two of them, giving them a kind smile, before you are back looking at Sailor.  The baby yawns as she goes to lay down on Hayden’s chest.  

“Would you look at that,” Ari whispers.  The two of them viewing you lay down on his shoulder, staring at your niece as she slowly closes her eyes.  “She looks good.”

“She always does.”

“Fine, she looks different.  Wonder who the dweeb is?”

“Her boyfriend that’s a doctor.”

“Ooh,” Ari looks over at Bucky with a smile, “She definitely raised her standards.  Doll dating a doctor.  Who knew this was her future when she was fucking around with both of us,” Bucky elbows him in the side, “Oh, don’t be like that.  I’m only joking.  Geeze, you should seriously leave that alone.”

Curtis leans behind you, whispering something in Hayden’s ear, and Ari tilts his head looking at the interaction, “Why does Curtis know him?”

“It’s his little brother.”

“Haha,” Ari chuckles, “Man, he did you dirty.  Took her away from the MC and right into his brother’s arm.  Ow,” Ari groans as Bucky’s elbow goes back into his ribs.  “Stop doing that.  Come on, JB.  That girl was too good and smart for you anyways.  Look at her all shiny and happy.  Wearing a color besides black.  And I hate to break it to you, that is in their future.”

“What?” Bucky spins to look at him.

“That.  Watch her lookup at him.  She’s basically begging for him to fuck one of those in her.”

You lift up off of Hayden, whispering something in his ear, and your left hand presses against his cheek, and Bucky struggles to breathe again.  A pretty diamond shining on your finger, before you go to stand.  Walking down the center aisle, and stopping right beside them.

“Hey, guys, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re not that far away from me.  I hear everything that you’re saying.  That is Hayden, my fiancé, and yes, I’m very much in love.  And by the way Ari, yes, one day he will give me one of those things called babies.  Now if you would please, stop talking about me, okay?” Bucky gulps looking up at you.  He’d seen you mad before, but now there was a calmness in your fury, making you that much more terrifying.  “Can you please just quit talking about me?”

“Yeah, of course, darling,” Ari nods his head, and you look over at Bucky.  Raising your eyebrows you wait on him to nod, before you thank them, and walk back to the front.  Reaching for the sleeping baby, and Hayden wraps his arm tightly around you.  Doodle even lays his head on your knee, while you count to ten.  Steadying your breathing.

Hayden kisses you on your forehead, his eyes glancing back at the two of them, and Curtis swats at his arm, and he looks back to the front.  Waiting for the ceremony to be over with.

You watch Howard and Tara dance around with Sailor, as your eyes drift around the dance floor, Hayden has gone to grab some drinks and relieve Doodle, leaving you with your thoughts on your own wedding.  You did really want to get married in the Everett’s backyard.  That treehouse as a backdrop, and maybe even some chipmunks.  

You smile and wave at your giggling niece, and how happy Howard and Tara were.  Curtis was dancing with one of Tulip’s friends, and you lean back in your chair.  Smiling at how Steve and Tulip just couldn’t quit looking at each other.  Looking every bit like the newlyweds; happy and so in love.

Getting a tap on your shoulder when the song turns slow, you look up to see Bucky, “Care to dance?”

“I don’t want to,” you look back around.  Trying to ignore him.

“Please?”

“Why, so you can make crude remarks about me?”

“Ah, to be fair, that was Ari,” you turn to glare at him, “Doll, please.  I just want to dance.”

“No, you want to talk,” Bucky shrugs, grimacing at you, and he looks back at the dance floor, “You won’t be alone.”

“Fine,” you answer shortly, going to stand up as you walk to the edge of the floor, waiting for Bucky to grab your hand and waist.  “What?   Going to visit my future in-laws for Halloween, hoping to see me, wasn't enough?”

“Curtis told you?”

“He tells me everything.  He’s my best friend.  And no, we’ve never fucked.”

Bucky slowly nods, moving you around the floor, and you try not to look at him with such contempt, “What do you want to talk about?”

“That’s it?  We’re done?”

“Bucky, do you even remember me going to the clubhouse to talk to you?  And the only thing you could do was grope me and try to kiss me?  Or were you too fucking high and drunk?”

“I remember.”

“I worked my ass off to get where I am.  To get where I was then, I worked my ass off.  I cried every fucking day.  I hurt so much emotionally, but physically.  I faced my past and my demons head on, and I hoped to go back to find you doing the same thing, but you were wallowing in your filth.  And to top it off, you were fucking the girl that caused me to get my ass spanked in front of the entire MC.  So yeah, I was done.  And even that hurt to let you go, so don’t you go blaming Curtis and Hayden for anything Bucky.  This was between me and you, and we were toxic for each other.”

“I’m sober.”

“I’m proud of you, but that doesn’t change anything,” Hayden looks around at your table confused, but with one look at the dance floor, he stops.  Taking a deep breath, before sitting down.  He wasn’t worried about your loyalty.  He knew that this encounter was inevitable.  It was needed.

“We’re not the same Bucky.  That summer, and the years after where we were just fucking around, they’re over.  They’re done.  It’s our past,” Bucky starts to speak, and you push your hand up against his mouth.  “I’m not going back to that time.  I’m not going back to the MC.  I’m happy where I’m at.  You may look at Hayden and see a ‘dweeb’, but let me tell you, that man is amazing.  He was patient with me when I was too scared to have sex with him.  He makes me laugh everyday.  He encourages me, and he believes in me.  That man comes home to me everyday, and I never worry about what whore he’s been with.  Don’t have to worry about coming home to see some slut sneaking out of our bedroom.  He loves me.  Like true love.”

“I loved you.”

“Even you can’t say you love me,” Bucky looks at you confused, shaking his head with tears in his eyes, “You used past tense, JB,” hearing your secret name for him, he lets a tear break through his waterline, and you wipe it away with a finger.  “I loved you, too.  I was never in love with you like I am him.  He’s my right now and my always, JB.  I’m not going back.  I’m sorry, I can’t give you that part of me.”

“After all we’ve been through?”

“Bucky, we didn’t survive what we’d been through.  I was drowning in that place, and you didn’t see it.  If it wasn’t for Curtis, I would have died there.  I never thought I could love again, and I love that man so much.  Hayden is my everything.  And I’m not even sorry about it.  I’m sorry that you think that I’m that person for you.  I’m not, and deep down you know I’m not,” his lip trembles, and he brings you closer, letting his chin rest on your shoulder.

“I don’t want you to suffer, but I need you to know that I can’t be that for you.  I did the work.  I came that day to see if there was anything left, and there wasn’t.  You wanted me to leave to find myself, thinking I was always going to go back to you.  Living in filth, and fucking whatever snatch you could pull into your room.  I was celibate.  I couldn’t even think about sex, and how many girls did you have underneath you?”

“They were faceless.  I just pretended they were you,” you push him off you, and start to pull away, but he holds tight to your hips.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?  You and Ari are the same.  Always need someone to get your dick wet.  If you really loved me, you would have waited.  You would have put in the work to be a good partner for me.  And you would have left the MC because you knew I didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t.”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t change anything, Bucky.  God, there is no us,” Curtis stands up from behind Hayden, needing to pull you away, but Hayden tugs at his arm, telling him to just trust you.  “I want you to have what I have with Hayden.”

“If it’s not you, I won’t.”

“Bucky, it’s not happening.  I’m marrying that man.  We have a home together, and he…he’s going,” you look down at the floor, when you start to cry, “He’s going to make me a mother.”

“Because I couldn’t?”

“Bucky, we didn’t need Luna.  I wouldn’t want her to grow up in the MC.”

“Doll, please.”

“I loved her, but she wasn’t supposed to be born.  She was spared the life that I had.  My daughter won’t know the pain I knew as old ladies taught me how it’s always the men.  Everything I did was supposed to be for the men.  If they cheat, it’s their right.  If they hit you, you deserved it.  If they fucking rape you, it’s your fault.  Luna didn’t deserve that, just like I didn’t.  Bucky, let me go, but do it for you.  I had to let you go, so I could love myself.  And when I learned to do that, I got something I never thought I would.  A family.  People who love me.  And now a Hayden, my dweeb.  The man, I don’t deserve, but I won’t push him away for all the money in the world.  I’m holding him tight, because he is my future.  And I want that for you.  I love you, but I can’t love you the way you want me to,” standing on your tiptoes, you give him a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Goodbye James Buchanan Barnes.  I hope one day to see you around at one of Sailor’s birthdays.  And I hope you find the happiness that you deserve.”

“What if…what if I don’t deserve that?”

Pressing your hand against his cheek, he feels the chill off your ring, and sighs, “You do.  When you’re in your right mind, you were the best.  But for me, I did find better.  You have so much love to give, give it to the right person.  Even if that means you have to leave what you think you love.  Maybe that place is just toxic.  It was for me, Steve, and Curtis.  Bye JB,” you pull his hands off of you, and turn to walk towards Hayden.

With Curtis now holding onto Doodle’s leash, Hayden meets you halfway.  His arms wrap tight around you, and he rests his head on yours.  Looking over at Bucky, and he gives him a quick nod, before Hayden pulls you up to look at him with your chin.  Giving you the most gentle of kisses before smiling at you, “Let’s get Sailor and head home, okay?  I could use some snuggles.”

“Yeah, me, too.  We should tell the bride and groom bye though.”

Going to turn away, Hayden pulls you back close, “Hey, I love you.”

“I’m in love with you, Hayden Elias Everett.  Can we like bump the wedding up a few months?  I don’t want to wait.”

“Me neither,” he whispers, pressing his lips against you.  You felt relief.  It wasn’t an easy conversation, but one that you needed.  Able to cut the last thread that tied you to the MC.  Knowing deep down that you and Bucky both needed that.

Bucky clenches his jaw watching you and Hayden before storming out of the reception.  Throwing a leg over his bike as Curtis stands in front of him, “You and that stupid dog need to move.”

“Hey!  Doodle didn’t do anything to you.”

“No, but you sure did.  You took her away from me, and right into his arms.”

“That’s what you think happened?  Buck, I took her to my father who is a therapist.  One I didn’t even talk to, but she needed help.  Do you remember that day?  Do you remember Ari beating her ass, before he threw her on the floor to square up with you?  She was fucking rocking in the floor, covering her ears.  That girl was willing to throw herself at everyone so she didn’t have to face reality.  Used her fucking cunt as a way to not think.  Do you even know half the shit that went on with her in the MC?  Do you even know why Bruce made that lame ass claim of her stealing?”

Bucky shakes his head no, resting both his feet on the ground, “Why do you think he wasn’t invited?” Bucky’s eyes go large looking at him, thinking about your words, and what the old ladies had taught you, “Yeah.  He was attempting to take what he wasn’t given, until I walked in.  Remember how he had a fucking black eye?  Yeah, I had to get him off her somehow.  And then he assaulted her again by telling Ari.  Questioning his leadership that led to her beating.  You see, it’s a cesspool there.  He patched out, didn’t he?”

With a nod of Bucky’s head, Curtis shrugs, “He couldn’t bear to look at you.  You deserve more than that place,” Curtis reaches his hand in his pocket, pulling out a card, and hands it off to Bucky.

“What’s this?”

“That’s my appointment time.  Doc, she uh, she does good work.  She’s been helping me deal with some shit,” Curtis sighs.  It was the first person besides you that he admitted to seeking outside help.

“Your dad’s a therapist.”

“Yeah, so is my brother.  You think I want to talk to them about my sister’s death?  About the many times I failed with her and Doll?  I don’t think you realize the shit Doll dealt with because she thought that was her duty.  It’s not my story to tell.  Go see Doc though.  She’s good people.  I can miss an appointment.”

Bucky looks down at the card, running his finger over it, but hands it back to Curtis, “I can’t afford to keep this up.”

“Leave the MC.  I’m currently living with Doll and my brother.  Sometimes bounce back to the parents’ when they need some alone time.  I do honest work, and make an honest living.  You get out, I’ll pay for your appointments.”

“Why do you want to do this?”

“Doll and Steve see the good in you.  So do I.  Don’t let tragedy ruin you, Buck.  That appointment’s already paid for.  At least give her a try.  For me?” Bucky shakes his head no, kicking his bike on, “For Luna.”

He looks over at Curtis trying to hold back his tears.  “Hearing all that about Doll, and you think your unborn daughter needed to grow up in that environment?”

“No.”

“Do it for Luna.  Please?”

“One appointment,” Bucky gives Curtis a nod, and pets on Doodle’s head, and the dog’s tongue lags out of his mouth, “Tell her I loved her, too.”

Next

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[lennonknowsmysins]

could you do the gangster au but the “turning point” in their relationship?? i love your work so much 🥰

pt. 3 to gangster!George

tw: mobster gets a little too handsy, mild violence, arguing

-

You and George had been married for a month and you’d had maybe five conversations with him. He was a reserved man but you weren’t sure what else you expected from a gangster. Truthfully, you weren’t sure you minded. Since your conversation with Cynthia, Linda and Maureen, he didn’t put you on edge every time he was in the room but he still intimated you. George was practically always working, spending all day in his study (which you still had yet to see) and coming to bed late. He never tried to wake you up but you still liked to wait for him, pretending to be asleep.

Realistically, you figured you shouldn’t be too upset with him for not making much of an effort to get to know you considering hadn’t attempted to reach out to him either. Still, when the only time you really saw him was dinner and he spent most of the time talking to his mates, you couldn’t deny that you felt ignored. It wasn’t like you were thrilled to be married either.

The real struggle was trying to find something to do with yourself. Normally, you’d be busy with school but part of your father cutting off your freedom including forcing you to drop out of university. Now nothing seemed to hold your interest.

Linda, who you learned was a journalist (making her and Paul’s relationship taboo in the mob world), had begun enlisting you to spell check her articles. You spent a good amount of time with Cynthia as she’d invited you to help her paint the baby nursery. She was a lovely woman and you enjoyed her company but even as you painting those little blue birds and bounced baby names off one another, you couldn’t help the looming feeling of loneliness. You were just disconnected from the rest of them. Cynthia, Linda and Maureen were involved with each others lives while you...well, you were just there.

You were manifesting that your first public outing with George - some sort of annual gathering for allied mobs - would do something to help the disconnect between the two of you.

-

Upon entering the mansion, you pressed yourself closer to George. You may have not felt entirely comfortable with him but since Cynthia and Linda hadn’t been able to come (Cynthia because she was pregnant, Linda because of her profession) and Maureen was very much looking forward to having a date night with Ringo, George was your lifeline for the night.

The hall was full of men in fancy suits with dark looks in their eyes, most of them appearing to be twice your age. One by one, they came up to George, asking him about business deals and his father before eventually landing on you, at which point, George thankfully steered you away.

“Sorry about all of them.” George apologized, finding a seat on a couch in the corner of the room, “They’re swingers, the whole lot. ‘s why my da stopped coming to these events.”

You snorted as you sat down, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am. They’ve been dropping hints that they’re interested in an orgy ever since we got married. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how to tell them no.” George said, shooting you a look. You burst into laughter, making George smile.

“Wait here, I have to talk to someone but I’ll be right back.” George told you, squeezing your shoulder before standing and beckoning to Paul. Paul smiled at you apologetically, following George and leaving you all alone in the corner. You watched Maureen dance with Ringo. You wished Linda and Cyn were here, if George wouldn’t dance with you, you were sure they would. At least, you wouldn’t be lonely.

Your bottom lip trembled but before you could feel too sorry for yourself, you felt the couch dip. A handsome blond man with the most dazzling blue eyes you’d ever seen had sat next to you. He wore a suit of velvet purple and had a martini glass in one hand and a curious grin on his face. A feeling of dread immediately crept into your gut.

“Now, why would a lovely lady such as yourself be sitting here all by herself?” He hummed in a confident tone. Unsure of how to react to the situation, you turned your eyes to your drink, swishing the clear liquid around.

“Waiting for someone.” You murmured back. You could’ve sworn that as soon as you’d said that, he scooted closer to you.

“You can call me Yates.” He said, although you hadn’t asked, “I don’t believe I caught your’s?”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable telling you that.”

“Aw, why not? Is it because I’m a big, scary gangster?” Yates chuckled, definitely scooting closer this time. He continued when you didn’t respond, “That’s fine baby, I’ll come up with one for you. It’s just important you know mine so you know what to scream later.”

Your face twisted in disgust and you would’ve attempted to get up had it not been for his hand curling around your thigh. The sudden grip made you freeze, giving Yates a chance to press himself against you.

“Let go of me. I’m here with my...my h-husband.” You stammered, trying to sound tough.

“Come on now, you don’t sound so sure of that. I doubt that George is that much of a husband anyhow.” He leered, tapping your cheek. Just as you were about to retort, Yates was being dragged off of you.

An angry George stood before you, clutching Yates’ collar in his fist. Everyone around you had stopped what they were doing to watch you.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my wife.”

With that simple warning, he dropped the creep and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from your seat. As he brought you to the exit, the crowd resumed the party as though nothing had happened. You assumed this sort of thing happened often at mob events.

Once you were outside, George let go of you to light a cigarette, not bothering to look at you as he took a drag. John and Paul burst through the door after you.

“What the fuck just happened mate?” John asked.

“Yates had his hands all over (y/n).” George spat bitterly. The two men turned to you, shivering in your dress.

The alarm on Paul’s face dropped to concerned, “Are you alright, love?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit freaked out.” You shrugged, still trying to process the event. You hadn’t seen George this angry before.  

“Yer cryin’.” John pointed out bluntly. You blinked, touching your cheek. Huh. You hadn’t realized.

George tilted his head towards you with an unreadable expression. He placed the cigarette between his lips, shrugging off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“‘m taking her home.” He decided, putting an arm around you, “Paul, can you take John, Rich and Mo in your car?”

“Course, but-”

George didn’t wait for Paul to finish, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his Mercedes. You glanced behind you to see Ringo and Maureen had joined John and Paul, who were explaining the situation to them. You caught Maureen’s sympathetic look before the car door closed.

-

The entire ride was silent, an awkward, bitter silence sitting between you and George. He didn’t even look at you as you walked up to the house, leaving the door for you to close.

“Go to bed.” George ordered gruffly, his back turned to you as he headed toward his office.

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He hadn’t really just spoken to you like you were a misbehaving child and not his wife.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

George paused. Then he turned around, his eyebrows set in annoyance. He wasn’t used to people questioning him, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were joking about telling me to go to bed.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, “You know, just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you control me.”

He glared at you, his eye twitching as he tried to think of a response. You saved him the trouble,

“For the record, you didn’t have to make such a big scene back there.”

“He had his hands all OVER you!” He spluttered, spit flying from his mouth, “And it wasn’t like you were doing anything to stop him!”

“I was scared, a strange man was invading my space because my husband completely abandoned me at a party where I didn’t know anyone!” You shout, your voice shaking as it echoed through the ridiculously large foyer.

George’s sour expression softened and you notice he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed thickly, “I had to talk to someone.”

“You still left me all alone.” You whispered angrily, “I know that this isn’t what either of us wanted and if I could, I’d go back and stop my father from getting us in this situation but we don’t have that choice.

You took a shuttering breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before continuing,

“George, I get that we’re from two completely different worlds but I just had mine completely uprooted for your’s. You’ve barely spoken to me since the first two days after the wedding. For god’s sake, we sleep in the same damn bed and I don’t know that we’ve ever had a conversation. Y’know, the only thing I actually know about you is that you’re a mobster? I...I was just really hoping that tonight could fix that.”

George’s face didn’t change throughout the course of your rant but there was something that looked like a mix of surprise and guilt in his brown eyes. Ever the man of few words, he didn’t respond - you didn’t know if he didn’t want to or if he didn’t know how. You shook your head.

“No, no, you know what? I am gonna go to bed. I need some sleep.” You muttered, turning away from him and storming up the stairs without another word.

Linda was waiting for you at the top of the stairs but you brushed by her in silence, too pissed for any intellectual conversation. You slammed the bedroom door shut, not bothering to turn the lights or take your clothes off. You curled up above the covers, looking out the window.

The wind blew softly, gently rustling the leaves of the tree peaking through the glass. A single tear trailed down your cheek as you thought about how you hadn’t even gotten to dance with George. The night had been spoiled from the start.

At some point, you finally managed to fall asleep, missing the lanky, mop toped figure that took your shoes off and tucked you in.

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Natasha/Andrei brainrot we’re really in it now, aka Natasha/Andrei playlist annotations!

Honestly the age gap is so inherently uncomfortable it’s difficult for me to really ship this but I think in terms of the REALLY low bar of W&P marriages/almost-marriages, it’s one of the better ones because they at least mutually care about each other. It’s also just devastating on principle!

There are several distinct sections of song on here, this is one of the few I’ve actually put in a significant order, so I’m going to break it down into that.

Part 1: Initial Meeting/Falling In Love The First Time/General

Absolutely Smitten - dodie

“She wants to dance around the room, kiss you until her lips turn blue”

This song really reminds me of their first meeting when they’re both like 👀 at each other. I like how it captures the excitement but also nerves of the girl, which I feel like is an important feature of Natasha’s part of the relationship.

Helpless - Philippa Soo

“Tryin' to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom”

Sorry to all the ex-Hamilton stans I jumpscared with this, but it’s about the Philippa Soo Singing About Falling In Love vibe. Also the quoted lyric reminds me of their iconic dance scene, or at least the bits leading up to that.

To Noise Making (Sing) - Hozier

“Honey, the look of it was as sweet as the sound; Your head tilt back, your funny mouth to the clouds”

This reminds me of the scene where she sings for him and he’s like WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH im in love! I paraphrase, but you get the idea.

Golden Years - David Bowie

“Look at that sky, life's begun”

This is objectively the stupidest song on here. It’s here because I think it’s funny to imagine the iconic Natasha/Andrei dance just being the Golden Years dance from A Knight’s Tale, HOWEVER the quoted lyric is in fact Andreicore.

Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You - The Arctic Monkeys

“And I know we got places to go, we got people to see/Think we both oughta put 'em on hold”

‘Wren there are several songs that are on this playlist AND your Andrei/Pierre playlist’ Thank you for noticing it’s because if Tolstoy can recycle the same lines of dialogue for these relationships I can recycle the same songs! This song is just. I Hate Everyone Except You :) which is deeply Andrei @ both of them. But also like wanting life to stop so you can just hang out with Your People.

Strawberry Blond - Mitski

“I love everybody because I love you”

I’m pretty sure someone once pointed out how this lyric fit Andrei/Natasha once in a post and I cannot for the life of me remember who but that made an impression on me. Mystery person, thanks <3 Also I forgot this was a Mitski song??

The Anchor - Bastille

“Bring me some hope by wandering into my mind”

One of Thee things about their relationship that sticks out to me is how Natasha is so lifelike and her very existence gives Andrei hope for the world. It’s so. It’s so much!

Something After All - Starry

“You’ve turned my world around”

Like I said above, falling in love with Natasha really changes Andrei’s entire worldview! I also think “I've spent years building up walls” is very Andrei, and Natasha kind of brought them down, like what happens in the song.

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

“A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes”

IT’S ABOUT THE SPACE METAPHORS FOR LOVE. THIS IS NO ONE ELSE FROM GREAT COMET’S FAULT.

Cold Cold Man - Saint Motel

“I know I am a cold cold man: quite slow to pay you compliments or public displayed affections”

It’s about being generally not very emotional or expressive but being devoted to the person anyway...very Andrei-ish.

Ophelia - The Lumineers

“I don't feel nothing at all and you can't feel nothing small”

The quoted lyric just seems like a really good summary of their dynamic, but I also think “Heaven help a fool who falls in love” works well for bitter post-elopement vibes, so this song was difficult to place.

Part 2: Andrei Leaving For Abroad

Misbehavin’ - Pentatonix

For some reason this is on both the Nat/Andrei and Natasha playlists and I’m too lazy to change it. Just go look at those annotations.

No One Else - Great Comet

Duh

To a Poet - First Aid Kit

“I got on a plane and flew far away from you, though unwillingly I left”

This song makes me think of Andrei abroad missing Natasha :( Honey you’ve got a big storm coming

Part 3: Post-Elopement Breakup Songs

I Hope Your Husband Dies - Amigo The Devil

“All the distance that we've spent apart will never have to mean a thing”

This song is VERY much Andrei about Anatole. “Now you're with this asshole, you expect me to believe it's going to last” really works because her relationship with Anatole was never going to last, whether or not she knew that. And “I'm not so much afraid of being alone, just kind of feel I've had enough/And time and time again, time reminds me you'll never be my own/We'll never have a house to decorate, a place that we can call our home” as an Andrei thing makes me very sad!!!

Ruins - First Aid Kit

“Ruins, all the things we built assured that they would last”

I think you can safely say their relationship was in ruins after the elopement attempt. I also think “I lost you, didn't I? First I think I lost myself” is something Natasha would think about the whole scenario

Half of My Heart - John Mayer

“Half of my heart's got the right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you with half of my heart”

I think this is supposed to be more of an “I don’t love you anymore and that’s on me” song, but I like to mentally frame it in the context of Andrei after the elopement refusing to take back Natasha. I also think all the bits about the singer’s love interest changing the singer’s outlook on life before really fits, like “Lonely was the song I sang 'til the day you came, showing me another way”

Love Like Ghosts - Lord Huron

“You don't want me baby please don't lie/Oh but if you're leaving, I gotta know why”

It’s all about the singer being haunted by a love that doesn’t necessarily reciprocate on the same level, and I think that really fits Andrei’s mindset. It breaks my heart to think about him trying to figure out what he did wrong, why he wasn’t enough for Natasha, and so that quoted lyric really makes me just. :(

Cold Day In Heaven - Delta Rae

“Keep thinking bout when we started, so innocent/Your heart was a mess and I was lost in it”

This whole song is so good for them, it’s essentially just a couple being disappointed that their relationship didn’t work out well. The quoted lyric is so. AAAAHHH. because both of their hearts were messes but for different reasons, Andrei was so hopeless and bleak but Natasha was so naive and not ready for it and it’s so. It’s so Much. Also “We watched, the stars fell, and oh you know we let them/We said it’ll never happen, we said it’ll never happen to us/But it’s a cold day in heaven my love” gets me because 1) star/sky references :( and 2) Natasha especially did say it’d never happen to them, she was adamant that she’d love Andrei forever and that uh. I think we all know how well that worked out!

2 Months. - Zach Adkins

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

“I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug”

This is kind of a generic betrayal/breakup/I-miss-you song, but I think it works. Especially with “I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain” and the focus on the singer’s lover getting them through difficult times and then abandoning them.

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

“Take me back to the night we met”

I think people are legally obligated to have this song on any playlist for a couple that doesn’t end well. It’s generic but it’s good! The entire Strange Trails album my BELOVED!

Careless Whisper - George Michael

“I should have known better than to cheat a friend and waste a chance that I'd been given, so I'm never gonna dance again the way I danced with you”

UNIRONICALLY THIS SONG. I think it’s the focus on dancing as like a significant marker of the relationship for me, especially given how heavily adaptations focus on their dance at that ball. The quoted lyric reminds me of Natasha’s mindset after all of this. Also “We could have been so good together, we could have lived this dance forever, but now, who's gonna dance with me? Please stay” reminds me of Natasha asking him to forgive her. Not to actually get sad over Careless Whisper but. :,(

With Or Without You - U2

“And you give yourself away”

The quoted lyric is in reference to the elopement in my head, and “I can’t live with or without you” is like. Andrei can’t continue on and let her back into his life, he admits that he can’t forgive her, but he also has no real will to live after she betrays him and goes off to die in war.

Atlantis - Seafret

“We've built this town on shaky ground”

“This town” is in reference to their relationship, and I like the acknowledgment that there was never a great foundation to begin with. And “maybe I’m not built for love” as an Andrei lyric is a little heartbreaking! Other than that it’s just a Breakup Song.

I Don’t Wanna See You Cryin’ Anymore - Adam Melchor

“I don't wanna be the reason you can't trust me like before/My head's in my hands as I'm shaking on the bathroom floor”

This reminds me of Natasha’s deep guilt over her betrayal of Andrei. The implication that Andrei would ever let anyone see him cry is a bit much for me, just ignore that HFJAHDHSH

Part 4: Reconciling While Andrei ✨Dies✨

Fake It - Bastille

“We can never go back, we can only do our best to recreate”

This whole is song is about trying to move forward from bad things in the past with your lover which is the whole vibe! But I also think it shows some reluctance on the part of the singer to forget, and a bit of a desperation to be able to leave the mistakes in the past. “Help me turn a blind eye” really captures that. I like this as the early stages of them reconnecting, because I think it’s realistic to have Andrei especially be wary but wanting it to get better.

Bad Blood - Bastille

“All this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry?”

Letting go of a grudge and trying to move on vibes!

Let It All Go - Birdy, Alvaro Soler

“We’re strong enough to let it go”

All their hurt surrounding the elopement is the Thing they’re letting go of in this case.

Flaws - Bastille

“You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground”

The quoted lyric just feels like their general dynamic to me. Natasha is so open about everything and does indeed wear her heart on her sleeve whereas Andrei represses every emotion he’s ever felt. I think this is a post-elopement song because of “Dig them up; let’s finish what we started”. That feels like them reexamining their relationship and what went wrong and trying again.

Moscow - Autoheart

“All I need’s a fraction of your happy heart”

This song is so 🥺. “We both know what we’ve got to do: head back to where the magic grew” reminds me of them accepting their reconnection and moving on and trying to rekindle whatever was between them. And “Let’s get a dog, an Irish red setter, it’s all we need to get better” feels emblematic of them looking forward to domestic happiness as the solution. And the quoted lyric screams Andrei about Natasha.

The Heart Is A Muscle - Gang of Youths

“I will look at love as more than just an instrument of pain”

Not to be off topic but this whole album is so good every single song makes me feel SHRIMP EMOTIONS god. Also the whole thing is very Andreicore and I had to stop myself from adding every song to his playlist. But I digress. This song is all about having been hurt by love in the past (“I let bad love betray me once”) but deciding to open your heart again which is very them! “I haven't had enough and I wanna love someone” AAAAHHHH. “I am human now and terrified, but want it all the same” Mr. GangOfYouths im going INSANE! “I just ask you to be patient if you’ll have me still” HELLO? Not to quote the whole song but “I wanna be loved, I wanna be whole again, so tuck my hair behind my ears and touch my soul again” as an Andrei/Natasha lyric...I need to sit down. Can you all tell this song makes me go all kinds of crazy. And this isn’t even my favorite song off the album!

Shrike - Hozier

“I couldn’t utter my love when it counted, ah but I’m flying like a bird to you now”

This song feels very “we tried to have a relationship a while ago and it didn’t work out that well but I still love you we could try again” to me which fits this time very well!

Part 5: Andrei Goes Splat :( [And The Aftermath]

Work Song - Hozier

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her”

I can’t say what it is exactly, but something about persistent love framed around the death motif works for me here.

Dancing After Death - Matt Maeson

“As the sun waits to eclipse and the taste teases my lips, I'm too tired to wrestle with it”

The quoted lyric reminds me of Andrei giving up and shutting down when he realizes he’s gonna die :( oh ALSO my brain always mentally fills in “and no one else” after the “you and I” that ends the chorus which does NOT help with my depression!

One Last Time - Jaymes Young

“Could I feel your skin on mine before I have to say goodbye?”

SCREAMS SO LOUDLY. The whole song is like. Someone dying and wanting to see their person one last time and AAAAAAAAAAA. I am a little incoherent maybe. “I'm leavin' this cold world of mine, no pleadin' is gonna turn back time” really Gets Me in the context of Andrei accepting his own death and withdrawing and it’s so. Anyway.

Oblivion - Bastille

“When oblivion is calling out your name, you always take it further than I ever can”

I don’t think this is exactly what the song is talking about, but the quoted lyric in the context of Andrei dying and Natasha watching him fade and withdraw...good Lord. I need emotional support.

Haunt - Bastille

“I’ll come back to haunt you/Memories will taunt you”

Natasha being haunted by the memory of Andrei!!! Help me!!!! Also “I will try to love you/It’s not like I’m above you” as a callback to Andrei’s feelings for Natasha when they start to reconnect is so mental illness inducing. OOOH and “Questioning why as you look to the sky that is cloudless up above our heads and thoughts come to mind that our short little lives haven't left the path that they will tread” any lyric ever about looking at the sky is Andrei’s now.

Without You - for KING & COUNTRY

“What do you do when you don't get better/Strong arms get too, get too weak to hold her”

:( :( :( :( :( Also “I’m not ready to live without you” I am so sad.

Good Grief - Bastille

“Every minute and every hour I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more”

Pain! Agony, even!

I made myself SO sad writing the entire last half of these annotations geez

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

WARNING: A little NSFW.

NOTE: Welcome to July! I went nearly a week with no internet, but I have returned and I intend to start jamming this fic through to the end. We're essentially entering the last "arc" of the story now and I hope you're all ready for it. Thank you for the reviews and continued readership, I appreciate that so much - especially when I'm taking forever to get this finished.

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

"Aww, c'mon, why am I the only one excited about this?"

The rest of the gang sort of shrugged noncommittally. None of them seemed to want to say aloud that the reason they couldn't summon the same level of anticipation as Yosuke was that they were still missing Narukami. Chie was staring down into her usual bowl of meat, stirring it distractedly.

"Not even you, Satonaka?!"

"Why me?!" she protested grumpily. "Like, single somebody else out, you jerk!"

Wilting in defeat, Yosuke leaned back against the railing around the school roof. "Ugh… you're all impossible."

"It's just Golden Week," Yukiko protested with a slight squirm. She wanted to be kind, to resist the temptation to pop Yosuke's little bubble of joy. But she also wanted to be realistic. "I agree, it would be wonderful to have a little vacation, but if we can't agree on where to go, and aren't that excited as a group…"

"Come on, we shouldn't have to give up that easy." Rise shrugged and hopped up from her seat. "Why don't we just do Okinawa? It's far enough that it's a vacation without being so crazy that all our time would be taken up by travel. I mean, unless we have to go all the way to Hawaii or something to have a good time."

The floppy-haired boy looked at her like she was the coming Messiah, drifting down from upon high to bless him with her presence. "Bless you. Absolutely bless you for saving me! I could kiss you!"

When he started to approach, she held up a hand palm out. "Try it and I will be wearing your teeth as a necklace." As he deflated, she turned the charm back on and pressed her hands together on one side of her face, smiling a dazzling smile. "Okinawa it is! We just need an adult to accompany us, or we're gonna get hassled a lot."

"Hmm, good point," Naoto said. Then the group as one looked toward the unsuspecting Kanji.

"Huh? Wha- I'm younger than most of you guys!"

"Yeah, but you look older," Chie pointed out with a thoughtful expression, tapping her chin with her index finger. "Do you think we could pull it off?"

While the taller boy was very clearly fuming that they thought of him as an old man, Yosuke put his fists firmly on his hips. "Yeah! I'm liking this! Next stop, the island of Okinawa!"

                                                        ~ o ~

Of course, even though at that time Rise was overjoyed, there would be complications. And one of these was pointed out to her by Ebihara after school, when they were stopping off at the Shiroku store just to take a poke around.

"Why didn't you suggest everybody go see Narukami?"

Rise stopped dead with her hand halfway reaching toward a candy bar. "Oh… I… wow, that is a really good point."

"As if I make any other kind," Ai scoffed with a half-smirk. "But yeah… probably a little late now, since you have everybody amped up to go to Okinawa. But hey, there's always summer vacation."

"Yeah, that's true… but I feel incredibly stupid. Seriously, why didn't I think of him first? We all miss him… me most of all, since he's my boyfriend."

The taller girl rolled her eyes as she picked up a bottle of green tea. "Are we going back to that? You can't do anything about it publicly right now, anyway — since the entire world is convinced you're having a 'Class S fling' before you grow up."

The words hit her so hard she had to brace against the wall to keep from pitching over. "You saw that one, huh?"

"All over every tabloid. They really like that outdated way of thinking; like girls can't legitimately want to be with girls for their whole lives. To be honest, I'm a little shocked you aren't being hounded by paparazzi at this exact second. We don't exactly have a lot of LGBT idols."

"Yes, well… there aren't any pictures, so technically, it's just a bunch of gossip from teenage girls. Only had a handful of phone calls about it, and saying 'no comment' to all those seemed to actually stop them. Pretty weird."

"That's because you're all washed up, Kujikawa," she sighed, smirking hard at her. "Yesterday's news. Retired before your time."

"Stooop! Why are you so mean to me?!" She slapped her a few times on the arm, and Ai laughed and held it up to shield herself a little better.

"Kidding! God, take a joke, bitch. But for real… maybe the word isn't out about your comeback yet, so they don't think you're worth being headline news. It will get a lot bigger when you get a lot bigger again."

At least that was a less bleak spin on the situation. Rise smiled over at her as they paid for their odds and ends and headed out. "Fine. I just don't know what difference it makes to you where we go."

"Hey, maybe I want to see Okinawa just as bad as you. Why are you the one that gets to decide everything without my input?"

"Oh, don't be such a…" Then it caught up to her, and she turned with raised eyebrows to look at her girlfriend. "What?"

"You're the one who can't finish her thought. What what?"

"I didn't think you would want to come with us."

Ai scowled as they came to a stop in the middle of the main street, hands on her hips. "You really think you're going on a big Golden Week vacation and I won't want to go with my supposed romantic partner?"

"No, not… I didn't think you would want to go with them. After what happened."

"Mm. I mean, clearly they are complete morons. But… being with you trumps having to put up with their idiotic antics. Besides… you gotta."

Jutting out her chin, she said, "Hey! I don't 'gotta' do anything but stay cute and talented!" Ai only laughed, so she stamped her foot. "Don't you laugh at me!"

"Why not? You're adorable. And anyway, I meant because I'm your giiirlfriend, so how would it look if you showed up there without me? Or if the town spotted me wandering around this week while you're out there living it up. Face it, you really painted yourself into a corner this time, Kujikawa."

Still pouting, she muttered, "Fine, senpai. I guess you know best."

"I do," she replied, mussing her hair up. Rise slapped at her hands and she laughed, and eventually Rise couldn't help laughing as well. "Sorry, I know that's a pain in the ass to fix. But you're just too cute!"

"I am," she admitted with a sigh. "And you're right; I did this whole 'public relationship' thing to get you to listen to me, and it was a dirty trick. This is my punishment. I must accept it diligently."

"Who the hell are you supposed to be now? Wait, you know what? Don't tell me. Let me just believe you lost your goddamn mind." That one earned her a lot more smackings.

                                                        ~ o ~

Everything bumped along easily enough through to the following Saturday. The minute their classes let out, the whole gang was racing home to their already-packed bags, ditching their uniforms, and hopping the train to a bus, to the airport. It was a mess of changeovers and stress, but Naoto had mapped the perfect route that would limit their time spent travelling without costing them extra. Without her, they would have been sunk.

The trip itself took the entire rest of the day. By the time they dragged themselves into their rooms in the rustic inn, they were all ready to fall immediately into bed and be dead to the world for several hours so that the next day they could enjoy themselves. The problem was…

"Wait, where are our beds?!"

Yosuke wasn't wrong. The traditional-looking room most certainly didn't have beds at all. The boy pouted as he dropped his duffel bag and clutched at his hair, scanning every nook and cranny as if one would jump out at him from the shadows.

"This does seem to be very traditional," Yukiko pointed out, scanning the room again. She immediately crossed to the closet and yanked open one of the sliding doors. "Ah! Futon."

"Futon?! Aww, I thought they'd have Western beds! We're on vacation, for cryin' out loud!"

"Don't be such a baby," Chie sighed, stretching her limbs. "Feel more sorry for those of us who don't like sleeping with a bunch of nosy jerks so close to each other. Like you."

While he was pouting and grumbling, Rise glanced between her and the dutiful Yukiko, who was already laying out the futons for everyone without prompting. Falling into her usual job. Chie probably meant that she was upset she wouldn't get much "alone time" with her girlfriend while they were all lying on top of each other. That really was too bad; even if she had barely tasted true love with Narukami, and seen hints of it in a certain affluent team manager, she knew that being kept away from it would likely be as agonising as it sounded.

And speak of the devil…

"Sucks to be you guys."

They all turned at once, and Rise cringed when she noticed everybody else froze. So she tried to be quick about announcing, "Hey, Ebi-chan! You made it!"

"Thank you, Welcoming Committee Of One," she snorted as she glanced around at the rest of them. "And you guys, too. Really doing a great job of making me feel like this trip was worth it."

"You don't have to be here," Chie muttered.

"What's that? It almost sounded like you had something to say, Bowl Cut."

Said bowl cut almost seemed to bristle as Chie rolled up the sleeve of her green jacket and started to stomp over toward her. But Kanji grabbed her by the neckline to hold her back. "Can't you guys save it till tomorrow?" he yawned. "I'm beat."

"Please?" Rise insisted. The tomboy looked like she wanted to protest, but she dropped back to fold her arms over her chest sulkily.

"Beautiful," Ai snorted. "I've just come to collect my property and then I'll head back to my room."

"What property is that?" Rise asked. When Ai pointed at her, she gulped and whispered, "Oh."

"I don't think that's very nice," Yukiko remarked with a slight frown.

Summoning a smile wasn't exactly easy when she was dealing with all those butterflies in her stomach, but Rise managed. "She's kidding, Yuki-chan. Thanks, though."

"Who says I was kidding? If you want me to keep playing along with this media circus, you're my bitch. Get used to it." Then she smirked at the others. "I promise to return her in good condition. Slightly used."

As they headed out, Rise bowing slightly and apologising, she overheard Chie muttering "The nerve of that guy" before the door shut behind them. Great.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yep."

"I'm really sorry. I tried to explain ab-"

"I don't give a shit what Bowl Cut thinks about me. They can all think I'm some drag queen if they want; there are worse things in the world. Like bigots."

"Y-yeah," she laughed nervously. "But I'm kinda hoping… we can all get along during this trip. Maybe they can even be better than-"

"Don't hold your breath."

"I will," she told her, a little frustrated with being cut off so many times. "I'll hold my breath until Golden Week is over if I want to, you aren't the boss of me. No matter what you just told them."

Finally, Ai turned to smirk at her as they walked along toward the other hotel room. She had flown ahead, given that she had access to more swift modes of transportation than the plebs; Rise could have done the same, but she wanted to hang with the group. "Oh, we'll see about that, bitch. But not tonight. Everybody's exhausted."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." However, she changed her tune quick when Rise turned on her heel and started walking back the way they came. "Wha- hey!" She jogged a couple of steps to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"Back to crowd into that shitty little room. It's better than being called your bitch every five seconds."

"Hey, whose fault is that? And do you really wanna have a public fight where the paparazzi can see us?"

"I don't even care. Maybe that would be for the best; then it's a public end to the public thing, and you can be an asshole to… to whoever you want, on your own time! So just leave me alone and go… to…"

The hand clamped onto her own gave her pause. The touch was firm but not rough; just enough to keep her from storming any further toward where her friends were getting ready for bed. When Rise didn't try pulling away, she caught up enough to place her other hand on Rise's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Wow, you really are a jerk." Ai swallowed hard before continuing, "I'm sorry… for being so… ugh. This is a pain in the ass."

"Then I guess I'm not worth it to you."

"Wow, loaded statement much?" No response, so she pressed ahead, "I'm trying. Okay? I'm just a bitch by default, you know that — and you did some fucked shit to me. Let me work through it if you want to get anywhere."

Rise turned and buried her face in Ai's chest, nuzzling against the side of her neck. The taller girl's breath caught and held fast. "Just be nice to me. Try?"

"Rise…" After a second, her hand drifted up to press into her back, holding her there. "Come on. Let's go get some sleep."

"Yeah." They parted, turned to head for Ai's room… but weren't walking nearly as far apart this time. That was marked progress.

                                                        ~ o ~

The next morning was a lot more interesting than that evening. They were so dead tired that they only got about half their clothes off before crawling into the futons Ai had set up — right next to each other. Her rationale was that if anyone checked the suite, it would support their claim that they were a hot-and-heavy couple. Rise found it hard to argue with that.

However, waking up with a decent-sized boner digging into her hip was a fine hello.

'Oh GOD,' she squealed internally. 'This can't be happening! Ai is all horny and too asleep for me to be able to ask her to cut that out!' In fact, she had tried to dig her elbow into her side, just enough to rouse her; no luck. If she did more than that she was afraid of robbing her of her sleep, or waking her up in a bad mood that might persist for the remainder of the day. Or worse: waking her up and embarrassing her, which she didn't want to do, either.

Then again… she couldn't pretend some part of the reason she didn't wake her was interest. What was it like to touch her directly? Not just petting along it with one finger for half a second — or through underwear and a long t-shirt; she already knew what that felt like, given that she had been dealing with the sensation for about fifteen minutes by now.

The worst part was how her own body was reacting. At first, she was just nervous and maybe a little creeped out, even though her curiosity was always there. But by now… she felt her heart pounding, throat dry, and tingles in places she had rarely felt tingles before. All thanks to a rigid little monster hiding in her girlfriend's panties.

"Wakey-wakey, Ebi-chaaaan," she whispered to the figure slumbering against her side. She really did look so sweet there. So pretty… she wanted to kiss her again. But that wasn't okay! She was asleep. Even though she knew it was a relatively harmless thing to do, she still didn't feel quite right about it.

Maybe she should try to slide out from under her. Yes, that sounded like a much safer idea. Nobody would feel like they had been violated this way. So little by little, she began to inch away from her, keeping her eyes on Ai's flawless features…

"Nnnhh…"

"Hey!" Rise squeaked when the sleeping girl redoubled her grip on her. Shit! She bit her lip, trying to ignore how much closer to a certain area that firm presence was now. Could she find no relief from this personal hell?!

This was supposed to be Narukami. Oh, she had dreamed many times about waking up beside him, letting him see a glimpse of a sexy shoulder before she pulled her kimono on and went to get breakfast. Sometimes, he dragged her back to bed, began to ravage her with kisses. And sometimes…

Well, no, she didn't really imagine sex. That part wasn't as integral to her fantasies; she just wanted to enjoy the physical and emotional intimacy. The act itself might be fun but she wasn't as concerned with that. But from time to time, she did imagine Yu kissing all over her neck, or-

OH NO. Now she was even more tingly and right up against the thing that had instigated these tingles in the first place. This was getting bad! Ai was groaning a little from all the movement but not quite rousing from her slumber. So she was still stuck fast.

"Ebihara, please," she hissed, pushing at her shoulders slightly. The noises got louder. "Hey! Are you in there, somewhere?!"

"Mhhh?" she asked as her hips began to grind a little — and Rise could swear she was seeing stars. This was awakening her body for the first time and she was just starting to wish that this wouldn't stop. "Who… wha?"

When Ai's eyes slit open and she saw Rise was beneath her, she blinked a few times. Rise gulped and grimaced. Then the teen queen began to frown down at her pop star girlfriend as she struggled to come up with a proper greeting.

"Oh. I uh… good… morning?"

                                                                To Be Continued…

[foolishlovebugbaby]

skz’s reaction to their s/o having plump lips

requested by @0leelina0​! thanks for sending this in, i felt so giddy writing it ehe i hope you like it!

side note: i don’t know what to do with myself anymore i-

bang chan

i feel like he’d absolutely love his s/o having plump lips

like at first he wouldn’t pay attention to your lips much (because let’s face it, he’d be too infatuated with the entirety of your face to just focus on your lips)

but the more you both got to know each other, the more he’d find himself staring at your lips whenever you spoke

he just loves watching them move 

and it makes him absolutely weak in the knees whenever you kiss him on the cheek or just anywhere on his skin

and don’t get me started on how much he’d love to kiss them

he swears up and down he could makeout with you for an entire day

and he always tries to do so

“No, just a few more minutes,” He’d mumble against your lips as you attempted to pull away.

“Channie, I literally cannot breathe anymore.” You let out an airy laugh and he leaves a soft peck on your lips.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Nsfw: he’s definitely into the whole lip-biting thing 

and you giving him neck kisses is his biggest turn on omygod

lee know

minho knows that he’s got the prettiest lips on planet earth

but when he met you, he realised that although he may have the best lips on earth, you’ve got the best lips in the entire universe

a hard fact to accept, but my guy was too whipped for you to let it get to him

he’d absolutely love taking kissy face selfies with you 

you both would make kissy faces at each other so often that it became second nature rather than an inside joke lmao

the first time you kissed his cheek, he swore he had died and gone to heaven and that an angel kissed him to wake him up

but then a cheek kiss turned into a lip one and there was no going back

he’d be obsessed with leaving lingering kisses on your lips, very slow and intimate yet firm

and sometimes he’d prefer it that way over intense, passionate ones

sometimes

because let me tell you, this man is k i n k y

Nsfw: definitely a lip biter like chan, and he’d savour each and every moment of your lips on his skin

“My lips are ten times bigger now than when we first started,” you chuckle in disbelief at your swollen lips

“Oopsies.” Minho says as he hugs you from the back, a smug and cheeky eye smile plastered all over his face.

changbin

your lips are definitely the first thing he notices when he meets you

he can’t help but stare; they’re so eye catching and pretty and god, his mind already wonders what it would be like to kiss them

just like himself, you have a habit of licking and biting your lips 

whether it be out of nervousness or pure habit

but he finds it so endearing and attractive that he finds himself mimicking your actions every time you do so

he finds it incredibly sexy whenever you bite your lips

like, heart-stoppingly sexy

and he loves to run his thumb over your bottom lip whenever your face is in his hands

and leaving random, quick pecks on them whenever he has the chance

“We’re in public silly,” You jokingly scold him as he wraps his arms around your waist and peppers your lips with feathery kisses.

“I can’t help it, you’re too addicting.”

but when you two are alone, it’s a whole other story

Nsfw: he l o v e s to suck on your bottom lip when you both are making out

like, just the feeling of your lip between his all soft and plump makes his blood rush in ways that words can’t even describe

and running his tongue over your bottom lip makes him all woozy and delirious ugh

case in point: every makeout session is a steamy one.

hyunjin

hyunjin met his match the moment he laid eyes on your lips

like, he still can’t believe that someone could rival his full lips

but alas

even when you two started dating, he still remained humorously competitive about it

he’d go around asking his members which one of you had the better lips in the relationship

and everyone found it absolutely hilarious that he still wouldn’t let it go

being the weirdo he is, he has tons of photos of your lips in his camera roll

he tries to justify it by saying they’re for comparison when he makes other people choose who’s is better, but the reality is he just loves to stare at them when he misses you

what a sweet weirdo

“I got the most votes this time, pay up.” Hyunjin says smugly, puckering his lips for a victory kiss and you roll your eyes at his foolishness.

“I’m winning next time though,” You say and kiss him tenderly.

“I really don’t mind if the price to pay is kissing you.” He says sweetly when you pull away.

Nsfw: he seems like the kinky type, but i actually see him as more of a sweet, tender kisser rather than an intense one

intimate, long kisses just gets him going man what can i do

han

han loves to stare at your lips when you talk

he just finds them so captivating that it puts him in a trance

at first you thought he found your lips weird because his eyes were always trained on them

but then he revealed that it was only because he was smitten with the way you smiled and moved your lips

the amount of lyrics he’s written about your lips and how magical they are alone is either alarming or charming, but you’re not complaining

often times when you both are cuddling and just enjoying each others’ presence, he’d trace his finger around the contours of your lips 

he finds everything about the way they’re shaped perfect and complimentary to the rest of your features, and he doesn’t keep his thoughts to himself

mans so whipped i love him

Nsfw: like changbin, he loves to suck on your bottom lip and tug on it playfully

especially when he’s ~in the mood~

but he also really enjoys long and firm kisses, minus all the tongue and antics because he just wants to pour all of his love for you into each kiss 

“You drive me insane, you know that?” Han says with half-lidded eyes as you both pull away to catch your breaths.

“Does this mean i have better lips than Minho?” You say playfully.

“Oh shut up and kiss me you dork.”

felix

felix is just so sweet and precious that he’d be fixated on every single feature of yours 

one week he’d focus on complimenting your eyes

the next your nose

but when he reached your lips???

he would not be able to shut up about them

he’d find them sosososos charming and would try and force you to make kissy faces at him just so that he can swiftly go to peck them and catch you by surprise

such a cheeky boi

he’d find kissing you so comforting and warm and just the epitome of tenderness, it makes him feel so calm and sound

“Each kiss feels just like the first.” He said just above a whisper against your lips.

“That’s funny, this is like the billionth kiss of the week.” You chuckle and he laughs only to bring you back in for another.

Nsfw: i’m here to retract all soft uwu’s because lee felix, 5 minutes into a makeout, can and will turn into an absolute beast

he’d be soooo into lip biting and just playing with your mouth with his own 

and he’d be so passionate each time and ahodhofh i’m sorry i dont make the rules

seungmin

ohmygosh my sweet baby

he’s so precious that he would blush every time you’d catch him staring at your lips

even when you both started dating he’d still get all shy and red whenever you’d leave a kiss on his cheek or forehead or eyelids

but he absolutely loves it when you do so

he’s a sucker for affection, and your plump lips kissing all over his face would just make all the love feel even more amplified

he loves giving you short, sweet pecks out of the blue and seeing you blush sweetly whenever he does so makes him all giddy

and he’s always finding excuses to kiss you

“You’ve got some ice cream right,” He leans in close to your lips, “Here.” In a second his lips are on yours, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and your whole face flushes. 

“You could’ve just used a tissue.”

“Our climate is collapsing and you want to waste tissue? Could never be me.”

Nsfw: yall hear sumn?

i.n

he’s literally still in the womb what do i say

our sweet baby would not know what to do with himself when he starts being infatuated with you, let alone when he realises how charming your features are

he’d be so giddy and giggly around you

fooling around, squishing your lips between his fingers

and whenever your kiss him on the cheek, he would need an entire 10 minutes just to recover from it

don’t even get me started on a first kiss

like he’d honestly think he could die happy with the feeling of your pillowy lips on his

he’d be so gentle and happy with you and would always leave feathery kisses around your lips and on your cheeks 

“S-stop, that tickles Jeongin,” You giggle while he peppers kisses around the corners of your mouth and on your jaw. 

“Whoops,” He says cheekily and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

Nsfw: page does not exist

woojin

woojin would be such a gentleman that he’d remind you everyday of how beautiful every part of you is

your lips were never an insecurity but they weren’t your favorite feature either

but that all changed when woojin showed you so much tender love and care

he’s such a sweetheart man

he’d love to help you put on lipliner and lipstick just for fun because it ‘reminds me of art class’

“Kim Woojin, you overdrew my lips too much and now I look like a clown!” You scold him, red lipliner smudged all around your chin as you attempted to wipe it off.

“Well I think you look cute.” He says matter-of-factly, grabs your face and kisses you sweetly.

Whenever you’d fall asleep on his lap he’d leave tender kisses on our lips and just admire every inch of your face 

im cryin i miss him

Nsfw: when mans is in the mood, mans is in the mood

kissing is his favorite form of foreplay hands down and would be so passionate and sometimes rough 

but hey ain’t nobody complainin bout that

[oopssasha]

Dear Sasha,

I know you said you felt dumb for typing out all the plot bunny from that playlist. But you have to know that you made my days for weeks. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on luring you onto the shipping train. You got there all on your own without even realizing it and it’s both hilarious and so seriously incredibly adorably you. I have no clue how to put the amount of affection I have for you into letters.

I love how you couldn’t help yourself and had to ask how the Larry Stylinson thing came to be. Just remember this before you read any further: Curiosity killed the cat. I hope you subscribe to the idea that satisfaction brought it back, otherwise this is going to leave you dead. You asked about it the last time we talked. So here’s my thoughts on what could have happened if the hypothesis that HS and LT were/are in an actual relationship is true. Keep in mind that I have no clue what actually happened. I’m just a song nerd, investing way too much in musical inspirations.

First of all, let me just get this out of the way. I love Taylor Swift as an incredible songwriter that she is and she was the one who got me to notice 1D because she was dating Harry Styles that one time. Her song, ‘Style’ screamed PR stunt to me like nothing else. Actually, her whole 1989 album felt like a middle finger to incompetent PR managers everywhere. ‘Blank Space’ was the epitome of “I can manage my public persona better than you ever could.” ‘New Romantics’ was a love letter to fans filled with irony about high profile public life. How it sucks and makes everything possible at the same time.

Oh my god. I’m sorry I went off the rail. I just love her and her music. Please forgive my ramblings. Again.

Anyway, back to Larry Stylinson. Taylor mentioned how ‘Out of the Woods’ was inspired by a relationship she was in. And the biggest feeling in that whole relationship was anxiety. Funnily enough, ‘Out of the Woods’ makes the most sense to me if Taylor was in a PR relationship with HS, being fully aware that HS and LT were together, and wrote the whole song from imagining LT’s perspective. Taylor put herself in somebody else’s shoes in a song all the time. The most sincerely heartbreaking one to date for me is ‘Ronan’ and I cannot tell you how hard I cried for that song. ‘You were my best four years,’ got me bawling my eyes out. Every. Single. Time.

Here’s my line by line lyrics interpretation for ‘Out of the Woods’ on the assumption that Taylor wrote it from LT’s perspective.

>Looking at it now, it all seems so simple.

[HS was in a PR relationship to stop the gay rumors and hype up 1D world tour. Taylor was in it to turn her image into ‘good girl gone bad’ without having to go full on Miley Cyrus’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ and hype up her own world tour. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Simple but effective.]

>We were lying on your couch. I remember.

[LT once said, ‘Nobody knows where we live’ but the public narrative at the time said HS and LT no longer lived together. Hence, your couch, not ours.]

>You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white.

[Introducing artsy black and white Polaroid aesthetic to set the stage.]

>But we were in screaming color

[Obvious rainbow reference became painfully obvious.]

>And I remember thinking…

[The following repetitive chorus is so claustrophobic. It plays out as if it was a constant cloud hanging over LT’s head at all times. Like, will people leave us alone now that they no longer think we’re together? Are highly publicized heterosexual relationships enough to keep the scrutiny away? Can we just be together since we’re sworn to the secrecy now? We’re okay, right? We have to be. But are we really?]

>>>

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet? Good

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet? Good

Are we out of the woods?

>>>

>Looking at it now, last December we were built to fall apart then fall back together.

[Seeing each other in a PR relationship with someone else hurt further than just simple jealousy. It’s also a reminder that their relationship is not meant to exist, let alone to last.]

>>>

Your necklace hanging from my neck

The night we couldn't quite forget

When we decided (we decided)

To move the furniture so we could dance

Baby, like we stood a chance

Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying

>>>

[This is where either my imagination ran away with me or Taylor is an actual Queen of Reference. I think it make sense that two paper airplanes here are a combination of a retrospective reference to HS’s necklace and an acknowledgment of LT’s paper airplane tattoo. In ‘Style’ MV at 00:13, HS’s paper airplane necklace, one Taylor wore publicly before, shows up. At her lucky number of seconds, Taylor is holding it like she’s praying, implying her best wishes for the relationship that the paper airplane represented. Throughout the music video, all the broken mirrors and jaded reflections alluded to a recognition of a kindred spirit. Media portrayals of their identities are so distorted to the point where the relationship people see is just a theatrical show for entertainment. I mean, ‘Style’ is almost 4 minutes long and, just 40 seconds in, the lyrics transition to ‘Fade into view’. If this doesn’t scream cinematic, I don’t know what else does. When Taylor flippantly said she could’ve named ‘Style’ as ‘I’m not even sorry’ and called it a day, I think she meant how she twisted the narrative in her favor and the media bought into it so much so that they’re chasing their own tails. Which is a reference I just made to ‘I Know Places’. What can I say? I’m a slave to my queen.]

>And I remember thinkin'

[Then the chorus repeats here. So I’m not going to repeat the interpretation.]

>Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

>Twenty stitches in the hospital room

>When you started cryin', baby, I did, too

[If your loved one got hurt when they’re away on a job, would you cry when you heard the news? Especially when there’s nothing you could do to help? Then consider this. If Taylor was there to witness the conversation between two heartbroken boys, wouldn’t she decide right then and there to protect them against the world? She talked about the incident once before and how she kept its details on the downlow by looking at people involved dead in the eyes and straight up asking for decency. That’s such a mama bear thing to do, if you ask me.]

>But when the sun came up, I was lookin' at you

[The sunrise usually represents hope. I don’t see why this would be any different. Isn’t nice to know that there’s one more person in your corner?]

>Remember when we couldn't take the heat

>I walked out and said, "I'm settin' you free"

>But the monsters turned out to be just trees.

>And when the sun came up, you were lookin' at me

[This is the biggest reach ever. But I think this is when things had gotten so bad for HS and LT. That if they were together, this was probably their first potential breakup. But then HS got his ship tattoo. As a reminder that no matter where he is, he’s homeward bound. And then LT proceeded to get the compass pointing toward home tattooed on his arm. Taylor was there with HS because she’s a character in the PR narrative, just like a tree in the woods. For her, the show must go on. But she’s not a monster so as soon as the PR stunt was done, she booked it out of there. Her ‘I Know Places’ is almost a promise to not out HS & LT even if their PR relationship went down the drain in public. 1D just broke into North America which was sadly rather homophobic half the time, and, well, “Loose lips sink ships all the damn time. Not this time.”]

I need to go to sleep. I can’t believe I just wrote an essay about one hypothetical angle of a relationship that isn’t from a lit class required reading. If you’re dumb, I’m dumber. It’s 4 AM here and I have work in the morning.

Love you, but don’t call me tonight. I need to catch more zzzZzz.

Delaney