#; ticklish!vix

[museanddream]

For Your Ears Only || Laia Codina x reader

Summary: Laia is too loud but you can’t say no to her. You’ll just have to deal with the consequences later. 🔞

Inspired by this drabble by the incredible @vixwritesagain - this story picks up where hers ends. Big thanks to Vix for a) inspiring this fic with her wonderful words and b) giving me permission to share this!

Word count: 3k

…

You should’ve learned your lesson.

An entire day of teasing, of Misa’s exaggerated and increasingly caricaturistic impressions of Laia’s moans, of wanting to spend every precious second you can with your girlfriend but also not wanting to give the rest of your teammates the opportunity to remind you how loud you were last night.

You should know that you need to be quiet or risk more of the same tomorrow.

Well, it’s not you that’s the problem.

Still, the way that Laia’s moans are muffled around the two fingers in her mouth is hardly doing much to deter you from causing a repeat performance. Quite the opposite, actually. You’re too far gone to change your mind now, tomorrow’s inevitable teasing be damned.

You lick at her cunt, timing the strokes of your tongue against her with the thrust of your fingers into her mouth. She tastes like heaven, like nectar on your tongue.

When your tongue flutters against her clit, Laia’s head falls back and your fingers slip from her mouth. The lyrical moan she lets out is what you imagine heaven sounds like too.

You really need to invest in an actual gag before the next camp.

Or, at the very least, manipulate the room plan so that you’re not neighbouring Jenni and Misa.

“Laia!” you chastise her, though there’s very little bite to your words.

“I’m trying,” she apologises. Even as she says it the second half of her words morph into another whine.

You find it hard to be mad at her for making so much noise. One; you’ve heard her unrestrained moans too many times before to think that this is the loudest she can be, which means she really is trying to stay quiet. And two; she looks far too pretty, splayed out and writhing against the crumpled sheets, for you to actually be annoyed.

With nothing in Laia’s mouth to muffle her sounds, you reluctantly lift your tongue from between her legs and start kissing up her body. And while your intention is to cover her mouth with your own to stop any more noises escaping, as your lips travel between Laia’s hipbone and her navel and her breath catches in her throat, you’re reminded that barring last night, it’s been weeks since you had her body laid out in front of you to explore properly.

So maybe it’s your fault when your lips pass across the ticklish spot on her ribcage and she inhales with a sharp hiss. Maybe it’s your fault when your tongue finds her nipple and swirls around the puckered bud once, twice, drawing out one of your girlfriend’s familiar mewls. Maybe it’s your fault when you finally settle on top of Laia and slot one of your legs between hers and she lets out a moan that fills the room.

“Laia,” you warn her again, though you continue to rock your thigh against where she’s hot and wet for you. “Baby, they’ll hear you.”

Laia pays no notice, instead more intent on pawing at your ass to get you to roll your thigh against her again.

Despite your better judgment, you’re happy to oblige.

You swallow her answering moan with a kiss, rocking against her core until her slick coats your leg.

Without breaking the kiss, you send one hand down Laia’s body and slip your hand between your thigh and her cunt. Her legs fall open obediently as your fingers slide easily through her folds, exploring without much of a purpose except to tease.

“Please,” Laia mumbles against your lips.

“Will you be good for me?” you whisper back.

Laia nods eagerly, threading her hand through your hair to pull you back into another blistering kiss.

As you kiss her back feverishly, your fingers graze over her clit with a few lazy circles, then dip lower to tease at her hole. Her hips buck beneath you, no doubt trying to coax you inside her, but instead you collect her arousal with your fingertips and drag them back up to smear around her clit.

“Stop teasing,” Laia half-growls.

“I’m not,” you say, pushing your hand lower and sinking two of your fingers into her.

It’s definitely your fault when Laia’s reaction is to let out a wanton moan, because you don’t think to muffle it with a kiss until the sound has already filled the room. But you kiss her anyway, even if it’s too late, capturing the sound that follows when you press down with the pads of your fingers inside her.

Laia is perfect as you fuck her. The way that her hands claw at you, one tight around your bicep and the other dragging blunt nails across your back. The way that one of her legs hooks around the small of your back, using it as leverage as she grinds upwards in rhythm with your thrusts. The way you can feel her clenching around you each time you find that one spot inside her that you know drives her completely wild.

Perfect, until her head falls back again and she lets out a hoarse “oh fuck” that’s just a fraction too loud.

“Laia, baby…”

You slip your fingers out of her as you hush her, though when you immediately move them to rub tiny circles above her clit, Laia lets out a breathy sigh of pleasure.

“I know, I know,” Laia replies, eyes fluttering closed in a way that makes you pretty sure that she’s only half-listening to you.

You watch her closely, admiring the tiny details in her face as you play with her clit. Her forehead crinkles with the exertion of trying to keep quiet, her eyes screwed shut in pleasure and her lips slightly parted. You commit it all to memory, knowing that national camp is short and it won’t be long until the memories are all you have.

“Get the strap,” Laia murmurs, eyes flickering open again.

Your fingers fall still on her clit and you tilt your head to the side as you look down at her.

“Baby, we both know you can’t stay quiet when I fuck you like that,” you remind her.

“But … but I need you.”

I need you. Words that you often hear through the phone late at night, when it’s only your own fingers between your legs and Laia’s melodic moans are choked by the phone’s tinny speaker instead of filling your room.

You’ve waited ages, too long, to hear her say those words in person.

So why would you deny her now?

Besides, hasn’t the damage already been done?

“You really have to be quiet,” you remind her, as you roll off her and wander over to your open suitcase. The strap is barely hidden beneath a t-shirt, your favourite dildo already fitted into the harness from last night.

“I’ll try,” Laia assures you. “I promise.”

But with the way she stares at you as you step into the harness and tighten it around your hips, her lips parted and pupils blown, you’re pretty sure Laia wants you enough to agree to anything right now.

“Hands and knees,” you instruct Laia as you kneel your way back into the bed. “If you need to make a sound, use the pillow.”

Laia scrambles into position like she thinks you might change your mind if she doesn’t do it quickly enough, rolling onto her front and pushing her ass towards you as she raises herself onto her knees.

“Fuck, baby,” you praise her, bringing your hand down onto her ass cheek with a slap, then squeezing the flesh appreciatively. “You really want this, don’t you?”

“Always,” Laia nods in response.

You slide your hand between her legs, teasing with your fingers. Then, when Laia pushes herself back again, you reach for the cock strapped to your hips and nudge the thick head against her entrance.

“Yes,” Laia breathes. Her head falls forward, forehead pressed to the bed between the arms that hold her weight.

The way that Laia offers herself up to you so willingly has you losing your mind in all sorts of ways. It takes all the self-restraint in the world to hold back from letting yourself get lost in the moment and start pounding into her.

Instead, you push forward with your hips slowly, filling her inch by inch. Laia hisses and gasps as you move, pretty noises for your ears only, until you’re sheathed fully inside her.

“Fuck, Lai.” It’s your turn to groan, palming her ass with both hands and spreading her cheeks so you can see where the purple silicone stretches her open. “You’re taking me so well.”

“I’m yours,” Laia tells you. “Always yours.”

The possessive beast within you stirs, pulling out halfway, then thrusting back inside.

“Yes,” you growl. “Mine.”

The pace you set is a steady one, not too fast while you let Laia get used to the feeling of you inside her. But it’s really hard to control yourself, the way she presents herself for your pleasure and the extra shine you can see on the toy each time you withdraw, requiring a lot of restraint to not just start rutting into Laia with abandon.

The sounds she lets out are thankfully soft. Breathy gasps, pretty grunts each time you fill her, all much quieter than Laia’s usual volume. Where her head is turned to the side, one of her cheeks pressed to the pillow, you can see the way her face is twisted with the exertion of trying to stay quiet, or maybe just the sheer pleasure of it all.

“You can go harder,” Laia suggests, between choked groans.

You know you shouldn’t. You need her to stay quiet. You really shouldn’t-

“Beg for it.” The words spill from your lips before you have the chance to stop them. “Beg for me.”

“Please,” Laia urges you without hesitation. “Harder. I need it. Fuck me properly.”

It’s this, Laia’s thinly veiled implication that what you’ve been doing so far isn’t quite to her satisfaction, that makes you lose your mind.

You grab Laia by her thighs and manhandle her until she’s flat on her stomach beneath you with her legs wide enough for you to slot between them. In your roughness, the toy slips out with a pop, slick with her arousal, but you’re quick to wrap your fingers around the wet silicone and nudge it back between her legs.

In hindsight, you should’ve expected Laia’s groan of pleasure as you fill her in a single swift thrust, far louder than any she’s made since you started using the strap. But all you can focus on is how much you want her, all the pent-up frustration from spending the entire day being relentlessly teased by your other teammates each time you even glanced in Laia’s direction, flooding out of you as you start to fuck into her properly.

“Fuck!” Laia cries out. “Like that!”

You curl your body over hers, arms planted on either side of her shoulders as you lean towards her ear and growl, “Yes? You like it when I fuck you like this?”

Laia nods as much as she can with you practically pinning her to the mattress.

“Yes! Feels so good!”

“Fuck, baby.” You muffle a groan of your own by pressing your lips to the tanned skin of her shoulder blades. “You feel so good too. I can feel how tight you are.”

Still, you don’t relent the vicious rocking of your hips, filling her over and over again, drawing sound after pretty sound from her lips.

“Shhh,” you hush her half-heartedly. You have no intention of actually forcing Laia to shut up, though your sex-addled brain knows you should probably make more of an effort to be quiet.

Even if Laia herself was quieter, the sounds of your sex fill the room. The chatter of the television you turned on when you arrived back to your room in an attempt to mask the sounds you knew would soon follow seems to fade into the background, drowned out by the rhythmic creak of the mattress below you, the occasional thump of the headboard against the wall.

Even the slick sounds of the toy filling Laia over and over seem amplified.

“Don’t stop,” Laia pleads,

“Are you going to come?” you ask Laia.

She doesn’t answer with words, but you see the frantic nod of her head.

Her confirmation is all you need to realise how close you are too.

This position has always done it for you. Having Laia beneath you like this allows you to grind your clit against the harness each time you rut into her, a delicious pressure that builds you towards your peak without fail.

“Gonna come soon,” you warn Laia, as you manage to slip your hand between her body and the bedsheets with only the tiniest stumble to the rhythm of your hips, eager fingertips seeking out Laia’s clit.

“Yes!” Laia cries out. “Want you to come with me.”

The way you fuck into her has her grinding against your hand. She’s so wet that you barely need to do anything except hold your fingers in place and let friction do the rest.

Even just the thought of feeling her fall apart beneath you has you rapidly hurtling towards your own peak.

“I’m so fucking close,” you manage to gasp out. “Are you gonna come with me, Lai?”

Laia lets out a sound to the affirmative, somewhere between a whimper and a squeak, as she continues to hump your hand.

“Yes!” you encourage her. “So good for me, baby. So perfect.”

“I’m coming! I -”

You feel it as it hits her, the way that her body tenses beneath you, then writhes as much as she can where you’ve got her trapped against the mattress.

But it’s the sounds she lets out that tips you over the edge into your own orgasm, the soft pants as it builds, the few seconds of complete silence when it finally hits her, then the absolute wail of pleasure that spills from Laia’s throat as it wracks her body.

Your movements are almost non-existent as you work through your climax, the way that Laia clamps around the toy meaning that you can only really hump the harness as wave after tidal wave of ecstasy courses through you. You manage to muffle your own cry of pleasure by sinking your teeth into the nearest thing, which just happens to be Laia’s shoulder.

As your body goes heavy, you melt into Laia until you’re practically one person, until you can’t tell where you stop and she begins. Her skin is soft beneath you, her hair tickling your cheek where you nuzzle into her neck. You just want to feel every inch of her body against yours.

When the last tremors of your orgasm have subsided. you pull out of Laia carefully, pressing an apologetic kiss to the red mark forming on the back of her shoulder, then roll off her and make quick work of discarding the harness.

Afterwards, Laia pulls you close, her hot body nestling against yours as you both catch your breath and calm your racing hearts.

“You promised me you’d be quiet,” you murmur amusedly, wrapping your arms around Laia and pressing a kiss to the wispy tendrils of hair at her temple as she snuggles into your side.

“No, I promised you I’d try. There’s a difference.”

She smiles lazily up at you, clearly pleased with her loophole in her post-orgasmic haze.

“You’re the worst.” You roll your eyes, then squeeze her affectionately. “But I love you. So much. I wish the only time we get to spend together wasn’t like this. There’s so much more I’d do to you if we had more time and privacy.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

If Laia’s noise is half the problem, her insatiability is the other half. The mischievous glint in her dark eyes is very hard to say no to.

“Don’t tempt me. We’ve got a game in two days so we really need to sleep. You know I had to invent a migraine to explain last night’s poor sleep score to the performance staff?”

Laia chuckles under her breath as she replies, “I pretended I had bad dreams.”

“They’ll figure us out soon. We won’t be allowed to share a room again.”

A wicked grin stretches across Laia’s cheeks as she rolls fully on top of you and cups your jaw as she says, “Then we should make the most of it while we can.”

She leans in for a kiss and you respond slowly, with absolutely no intention of letting this escalate, just content with leisurely making out with the person you’ve spent so many weeks missing the company of.

Until you hear a sudden noise from next door that forces you to break apart, the creaking of a mattress and the distinct sounds of two different headboards hitting the wall in different rhythms.

“Oh Laia!” You hear Misa’s poor imitation of your voice drift through the wall.

“Yes, baby!” comes Jenni���s exaggerated echo. “Give it to me! Right there!”

“Oh yes, just like that!”

“More! More!”

The banging stops and you hear Jenni’s loud cackle, clearly pleased with herself.

Your cheeks burn as you picture Jenni and Misa jumping up and down on their beds as they impersonate the two of you, realising only now that you’ve heard them exactly how thin the hotel walls are.

You wrap your arms tighter around Laia, as if holding her close will protect you both from the embarrassment.

“We don’t sound like that,” Laia mumbles into your chest.

“We don’t,” you agree. “But you did.”

You can still hear Jenni and Misa’s raucous laughter from next door, no question in your mind who is the butt of their jokes.

“If I murder them both tomorrow morning, will you help me hide the bodies?” you ask Laia softly.

Ever the perfect girlfriend, Laia is quick to agree.

“Of course!”

[neversatisfiedswitch]

Wake Up

Author’s Note: Wow, that title is strange on its own, but hey! It’s a title! An improvement from my normal non-title things! :D So my beautiful OC Tarja has been on my mind. She’s wonderful and if you don’t know anything about her, please go look at my OC pages, under “Demons”. Anyway!

Another thing that was on my mind was my tickle headcanons post I did for a small chunk of my OCs, bc for Tarja’s description of what she’s like as a ler, I felt a demonstration of her methods was needed. :3

Summary: A normal day in the Quinn household, where big sister Tarja has to wake her little brothers.

Words: 1601

Emerald eyes fluttered open, catlike pupils dilating and contracting as they took in the room. A phone alarm blared next to her ear, and as quickly as she reached over to turn it off, she remembered why she’d set an alarm this early.

Gig in four hours. Right. What Tarja wouldn’t give to just call all of this off, just say that they’d do this tomorrow-- but a gig was a gig, and with her being the oldest in this house and the founder of the band, she couldn’t be that irresponsible.

Morning person she wasn’t, but it didn’t stop her from springing out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts-- wear pants to bed? Unheard of-- and spraying water on her hair, in an attempt to coax the pink locks to cooperate with her hairbrush. The blue streak was fading-- she’d have to fix that soon, but not now.

Stepping out of her room, the rest of her morning routine became clockwork. It was simple, really-- before anything else could get done, her brothers had to be awake. If they weren’t, it just wouldn’t work. So she started by quietly entering Xan’s bedroom, just down the hall from her room, shutting the door just as quietly behind her.

The eldest Quinn brother had, as per the norm, fallen asleep the completely wrong way-- with his feet at the head of the bed and vice versa. Thankfully, this time he was on top of the covers rather than under them, and as per usual again, his headphones were over his ears, blasting soothing music. He could never sleep without something to listen to.

Tarja carefully removed his headphones, glad that he’d left his glasses on his bedside table-- he had a bad habit of leaving them on and falling asleep. She gently pried his fingers from his iPod to turn his music off, then sat down next to him, brushing long, blond locks from his face. A soft purr left his throat, and Tarja couldn’t help but chuckle-- Xan was always adorable when he was asleep.

“Xaaaan~...” She cooed, lightly shaking his shoulder. His eyelids fluttered, but he turned his head away, mumbling something incoherent. “Xan, you have to get up. Don’t tell me you forgot about our gig?”

His voice was low, as it always was in the morning, his words slurring a bit. “... Jus’ a few more minutes...” He yelped suddenly as Tarja shoved her hands under his arms, which were pillowing his head. Uncharacteristically shrill giggles escaped his lips as Tarja wiggled her fingers, wrapping one leg around one of his. “No can do, love. You’ve gotta get up.”

Really, this was so easy. A few teasing words and wiggling fingers in his armpits, and Xan would do anything she asked him to. She could have punished him for trying to ignore her, but cruel wasn’t a word used to describe Tarja. Stilling her fingers, she leaned down to press a kiss to Xan’s temple, giggling as he groaned. “Can you lift your arms? Kinda need these, y’know.” Swiftly poking his armpits to show her point earned her another yelp, and Xan quickly lifted his arms, lowering them just as fast.

Tarja stood, cheerfully smiling down at her brother once more before practically skipping out of the room. One down, three to go.

Nexx’s room was right across the hall from Xan’s. Unsurprisingly, his entire bed was empty, save for himself and two pillows-- one under his head, and one held to his chest. It made Tarja’s job so much easier, really-- considering the drummer was the quickest-moving one of the bunch, it was a cakewalk now.

Without a word, she leaped onto his bed, pinning him under her and drilling her thumbs into his hips. With a loud shriek, Nexx’s eyes shot open, and he immediately began laughing, hands clasping around Tarja’s wrists as he dissolved into a cackling mess. She was too good at this, knowing which spots were the worst for her brothers to handle and taking complete advantage of it when she needed them to cooperate with her.

“Nexx, you kicked your blankets off again...” Her only response was laughter, forest green eyes already filling with tears of mirth. Stopping her assault, Tarja moved to sit next to her middle brother, mussing up already-messy strawberry blond locks. “You... you already know... I do that every night...”

A gentle smile, followed by a kiss to the still-giggling boy’s forehead. “I know. I just thought I’d point it out so you don’t trip over ‘em.” Snorting, Nexx sat up to stretch as she exited his room. “Yeah, thanks... I’ll do my best not to.”

Vix was next, his room near the other end of the hall. He’d fallen asleep with a book across his chest, a small pile next to him. Thankfully he must have been reading with his phone and turned off the screen when he felt tired, because there were no lights on. Vix was the one she had to watch out for, because on occasion he could pretend he was asleep just to run out on her-- but the gentle rise and fall of the book on his chest confirmed for her that he was definitely asleep.

She carefully sat at the end of his bed, pulling the covers up until she found one of his feet. Wrapping one of her legs around his ankles to keep his foot in place, she gently ran one finger up and down the sole of his foot, earning some startled-sounding squeaky giggles. She giggled herself as she used both hands to lightly tickle around his toes, knowing he was definitely awake when his other foot pushed at her back.

“Vix, you know laughing this early in the morning might disrupt your voice~” Clearly there was nothing stopping her from “disrupting” his voice-- as soon as her fingertips wormed between his toes, he very nearly screamed with laughter, his free foot smacking more against the bed than her back as he tried his damnedest not to hit her too much. The consequences for that were worse than her wake-up tickles for sure.

After looking back at him and seeing how red his face was, Tarja’s fingers changed from torturing her brother to gently rubbing his foot instead, a bright smile on her face as his laughter died down to giggles. “Really, don’t forget to do your vocal exercises-- I’m not savin’ you if you end up croakin’ like that one time.”

Pulling his foot back and running his hands through his black hair, the teen groaned. “Don’t remind me, god, I’m still getting tweets about it.” Laughing softly, Tarja kissed his cheek, making him grumble and pointedly wipe the kiss away as she walked out of the room.

Zane was the last one to wake up-- since he was the baby of the family, Tarja always felt that he needed the most sleep, and the gentlest approach to being woken up. As she entered his room, she noticed in the gentle glow of his nightlights that he was on his back, the covers kicked to the end of his bed-- perfect.

She carefully laid down next to Zane, ruffling his brown hair, her voice soft. “Zane... time to wake up...” As his eyelids fluttered, she could just barely see the colors change-- from surprised yellow to sleepy orange and back to his normal blue-- before they closed again. She “tsk”ed playfully, lifting his shirt and lightly spidering her fingers across his tummy. His eyes were yellow again as they shot open, and he immediately attempted to curl in on himself, giggles and snickers escaping him. But she knew how to keep him from curling up, moving one hand to prod at his side so he would jerk away-- straight into her arms.

She kept one arm wrapped around his chest, her free hand tracing circles around his belly button as he shrieked and squirmed as much as he could in her hold. Despite his attempts to escape, though, she knew he enjoyed it. Being the most ticklish didn’t mean he hated it, desperation to get away be damned.

Of course, as much as she wanted to tickle him to tears, Tarja knowing that Zane was awake meant she had to get a move on. So with a single poke to his belly button, making him squeak loudly and nearly jump out of his skin, Tarja released him, kissing his forehead when he turned to look at her.

“We’ll finish this later, kid. Don’t think I’m letting you off so easy.” A short wiggle of her fingers over his tummy, not even close to touching it, and he giggled, bringing his knees up. She laughed softly, shaking her head as she stood. “Don’t forget your pick when you come back up later. I dunno if I have any spares, and I don’t want you hurting your fingers.”

She didn’t leave the room until he was out of bed, and she headed back to her room to get dressed, leaving her makeup for later. When she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, she was pleased with what she saw-- Xan with his hair tied up and making pancakes, Nexx setting the table (and drumming on the table with the silverware, of course), Vix making coffee, and Zane getting mugs and glasses ready.

Tarja couldn’t help but smile fondly. This was where her morning routine paid off.

[ironhusband]

do u have any domestic TonyRhodey headcanons?

I sure do! Thanks for asking, Vix!

Rhodey is the one who cooks. Tony can’t cook at all. Seriously, Rhodey tried to teach him, videos online tried to teach him, professional chefs tried to teach him, Mama Rhodes tried to teach him. It’s no use. He just can’t do it. So Rhodey cooks. And Tony absolutely loves every single thing Rhodey makes for him. Rhodey says that he’s an amateur compared to his mother, but in true sappiness, Tony says Rhodey’s cooking is better because “you can just taste the love you have for me, honeybear.” Rhodey always rolls his eyes with a tiny smile because he loves how sappy his husband is. Rhodey is usually too busy with work to cook though, so usually Tony orders them takeout for dinner. Rhodey swears that the way Tony orders them takeout comes with psychic; Tony always orders by Rhodey’s mood even if he doesn’t know what Rhodey’s mood is. When he had a bad day at work, Tony orders him his comfort food. When he missed Tony that day, Tony orders the hamburgers from the chain Tony always invited on at MIT. When Rhodey had a good day at work and wanted to celebrate, Tony would order him something from some fancy new restaurant in Malibu. When Rhodey’s day was fine but tiring, Tony orders pizza and they eat quickly before going to bed. Even though their cooking skills are different, food is a love language for the both of them. 

They’re the kind of couple that can sit together in comfortable silence. They do like to do things together, watching TV or doing a puzzle or working together on a project, but sometimes it’s nice when they do different things in the same space, content and happy. Usually Rhodey would draw something while Tony would answer Emails or Rhodey would go over some of his trainees resumes while Tony was mindlessly playing the guitar. Occasionally, they would look at the concretion on each other's face and smile fondly. Sometimes they do it while sitting side by side or with their legs tangled together. They always feel completely at ease and relaxed, just by being close to one another. 

People (The Avengers) are sometimes surprised at how much Tony and Rhodey love PDA when they’re with people they trust. Usually in public, they like to keep their hands off each other. Oh sure, they flirt like crazy, and Tony loves to announce that they’re very much together and that he’s crazy about Rhodey, but they don’t really touch. It’s a left over instinct from DADT. At home though? Tony and Rhodey always kiss before they go to work. They hold hands a lot, even if it interferes with them doing something (that’s how they broke the sink once). They constantly call each other’s nicknames and tell each other how much they’re loved. Tony always kisses Rhodey’s forehead whenever it’s in reach and Rhodey kisses Tony neck in a way that makes him giggle because the spot is ticklish. They always cuddle up to one another at movie nights and play footsie under the table at dinnertime. DADT might have meant they can’t show their love in public, so they like to remind each other of how much they love each other and want nothing more than to touch in private. 

Tony and Rhodey have the exact same taste in everything. In movies, in books and in music and in humor and in hobbies. It’s not like they agree about everything, and even about their taste in popular culture, they like to pretend they’re different. But they have the exact same taste in everything. Which means they have monthly book clubs with just one another (because everyone else are clearly idiots) and they always listen to the same music in the workshop and for movie nights, they both laugh at each other’s jabs at the movie. They don’t ever have to tell each other before ordering tickets, because they’d either love it together or hate it together, but they’d always do it together. They do crosswords together and puzzles together and work on workshop projects together. As I said, they love doing things together, and with their shared interests, they get to do it a lot.

They love dancing! Absolutely adore it. They love dancing individually, Rhodey absentmindedly moving to the songs he used to like as a kid while Tony smiles fondly at his dork of a husband and Tony “distractingly” dancing in a seductive way, absolutely knowing what he’s doing to Rhodey. They love dancing together too. They love going to the clubs and complaining about the music the young people now but still dancing like they used to in MIT ( “let’s show them how it’s done!” they say. Everyone backs away twenty feet from them because these old people are so embarrassing). They love dancing in the workshop to the music they like, sometimes just nodding their heads to the beat and sometimes full on dancing, even if the music isn’t remotely dancing music. They love slow dancing, sometimes doing it randomly, without music in the background until JARVIS puts some Sinatra on, and by that time they’re too wrapped up in each other to notice the music came on.

Instead of date nights, Tony and Rhodey have “staying in bed” days. Sometimes their lives are so hectic and Tony’s sleep schedule is usually a mess anyway, that they need a break. They need a whole day to sleep in until late, have breakfast in bed brought to them (by Pepper, the hotel they’re staying at, or one of the Avengers), cuddle between the sheets, watch horrible new movies that they didn’t get a chance to see yet and make love where they want to. It happens once a month, usually at the last day of the month. It’s a nice way to start a new month, they think. It makes them both so happy to have a whole day for one another. They chose this instead of date nights, because this feels so much more intimate and romantic for them.

They don’t really say “I love you.” They both know they each other, but it’s very rare they say the words. They like to show it instead. Tony loves making big gestures and sending flowers to Rhodey’s work and he throws his arm over Rhodey’s shoulder while they lace their fingers together and kissing Rhodey passionately whenever he can. Rhodey for his part compliments Tony whenever the opportunity arises, never misses a chance to make him laugh and he leaves Tony Rhodey’s favorite hoodie for Tony to steal and he loves running his hands in Tony’s hair and kissing his cheeks. The word ‘love’ never needs to be said. They both know it and they both show it, and that’s enough for them. 

They’re silly and childish with one another. They absolutely build blanket forts together and talk until they both fall asleep, like they’re still teenagers. They still but lightsabers and pretend they’re fighting each other to the death. They both still say ‘jinx’ whenever they finish each other’s sentences. They both still fight over the bubble wrap whenever they get a new package, and eventually all the fighting means all the bubble are already popped. They both still declare the floor is lava sometimes, and take the game completely seriously. Tony and Rhodey are both serious professionals that can adult properly. But with each other they feel comfortable enough to have some childish fun together, feeling like no one would judge them.

They take care of each other differently when they get sick. Rhodey is more low-key about it. He makes Tony soup, reminds him to make his meds and cuddles Tony when he’s feeling too miserable. Tony likes it for the most part. Not working sucks and Rhodey is evil for forcing him to stay in bed. Rhodey just rolls his eyes and tells him projects are better without sick germs being all over them. Tony however, freaks out whenever Rhodey is sick. He forces him to go to the doctor, and when the doctor sends them home, because Jesus Christ, Tony, it’s just a cold, he constantly asks Rhodey how he’s feeling, buys him the best meds, piles blankets over pillows over blankets on his bed to make sure Rhodey is comfortable, he flies all the way to Philly to bring Rhodey soup from his mom and he gets him what he wants whenever he wants (unless the request is “oh my god, leave me alone!”). Rhodey thinks it’s sweet, even if Tony is a little bit overreacting. He would much rather have a nice, relaxing day to be miserable in his sickness, though.

They’re always bickering. About absolutely stupid things. It’s never serious, of course. They almost never fight, unless it’s about really important often moral issues. But they always bicker. It’s their way of flirting. Tony is just a person who generally bickers with people, and Rhodey is one of the few people who cam keep up with him (comes with practice) so of course he returns his quips jab for jab. Most times they bicker over breakfast or over their work together and sometimes they bicker while they’re with their friends or when they’re talking to the bots. But they always bicker with a fond expression and their fingers linked together and with a kiss at the end. 

[capeshifters]

@justasimplesecretary​ asked: 

What’s your favourite place to be kissed?// Appius

👀 Is there anything you find attractive about me? What is it? // Adam

Do you enjoy wearing lingerie or seeing your partner wear it?// Alan

🍒 Would your character join a threesome if given a chance? // Vix

“My forehead if that is a platonic kiss. My neck if not and also my hips, though I might get ticklish from that. “

“Don’t sell yourself short James..you are attractive from many places, but I think you look the best when you are focused on your book, you have a little scrunch between your eyebrows and the way you like you r lips sometimes...”

“It depends..as an avvar i don’t use lingerie ever..not even breeches..but i wouldn’t mind my partner  to dress up sexily just for me”

“Definitely I would..I don’t mind more people. it is just more fun always like that. “