#I rarely do selfies because I think I’m not suited for it
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thasorns-moved · 8 months ago
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loiswolf · 1 year ago
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Day 11 June 6 Haines Junction - Ibex Valley 119km
First stop this morning was just 400m up the road for a donut to have later.
The first few kms were a bit tough with wind and hills until the road swept around to the east. Yes! Another tailwind! This is a photo looking back up the road in the direction I had come
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This is a photo of what the scenery on the left was beginning to look like.
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Google maps had said the road was mainly flat and it was actually pretty close. There were a few hills at the beginning, not too terrible. I just want to give a little shout out to Jason at Durban Cycles in Sutherland. He has actually managed to fix Shirley’s gears so I can easily change in and out of the small chain ring. And yes, I have been doing that, it makes life a lot easier. Bicycle mechanics all over the world have tried to achieve this over the past ten years…and failed. Thanks Jason! ( can someone drop in and thank him for me?)
I had the unexpected pleasure of an actual roadhouse….with coffee, at about 33km. I wasn’t going to waste a rare opportunity like this. The pastries in those places can be quite stale so I went for the ice-cream to go with my coffee.
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Break over I continued on with a really easy, enjoyable ride.
After a while I could see something unusual in my rear vision mirror and it was gaining on me quickly.
Not a bear, but another cyclists. I assumed he was riding an e-bike judging by his speed, but no, he was just a really strong cyclist. He was from Brazil and didn’t speak much English. I couldn’t even understand his name. He took a couple of selfies while we were riding but I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see them.
He might be able to find me on Instagram.
He didn’t have panniers. Just stuff strapped to the handlebars, the cross bar and the back. Even without panniers I would never have kept up with him. After our brief chat he zoomed off into the distance very quickly. Maybe he was once a professional cyclist…..I’d like to think so.
At around 80kms I started looking for somewhere to stop for lunch. There was an excellent looking rest stop on my right , with no road access. I don’t know what the point of that is!
Eventually I just stopped by the roadside and climbed down to some rocks to sit on. I spent my break nervously scanning the trees for bears. The bear spray was left on the bike!
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Only another 30kms to go so I moved on. It was a little cooler today so I stayed in long sleeves. I seemed to have a lot of easy slightly downhill riding but it was probably the tailwind helping.
To the left it was becoming very green
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And there were some wild horses
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To the right were lakes and snow covered mountains in the distance.
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Very pretty!
I managed to miss my turnoff because my hostess had given directions coming from the other way. I was focused on reaching the km post she had mentioned and missed the driveway. Coming back I realised how much wind advantage I had enjoyed all day. It was quite difficult cycling back into it.
This is where I am staying.
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It’s very rustic and I regret booking it. The hostess is a lovely young girl but I have been charged way too much for a cabin with no running water, no on-suite, no TV and NO WIFI. Grrrr. I’m going to complain to Airbnb tomorrow when I get to Whitehorse. It’s a good thing I was able to fix my Kindle this morning and load a new book.
Tomorrow is going to be a short day and I have arranged a Warmshowers stay in Whitehorse. I’ll probably have a rest day. I’m pretty excited because I’ve checked the map and it’s a real place…with a Walmart and McDonald’s and Tim Hortons. It’s been a while!
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moemoemammon · 3 years ago
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MC is Sick?!
(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
Lucifer
A little late to notice that you’re sick. He’s been so busy lately that he can’t watch you as carefully as he’d like to, so he apologizes for not catching on sooner.
But now that it’s been brought to his attention, Lucifer is all over it. You’re excused from your classes and sent to your room for bedrest while he tends to everything else. He’s rarely the one to bring you your medicine or meals, to his dismay, but his busy schedule just won’t allow it. 
If he were able he’d let you stay in his room until you felt better. But for the time being, he’ll have to squeeze in little visits to your room, where he’ll pop in and sit on the edge of your bed, pressing his hand against your forehead and letting it linger on your cheek.
He’ll often come to your room with a record for you to listen to, and he loves talking about the history of the music and the life of the composure. His boring talks put you right to sleep.
“This piece is one of my favorites. The composer went into an illness induced madness when he created the sheet music, and wouldn't eat or sleep for two weeks until it’d been completed. Why, I often listen to it when- Ah, have you fallen asleep?"
Mammon
The first to notice the change in your health. You don’t look so good.. Are you okay? MC?!
Good luck trying to get any rest, because your first man is gonna be popping in and out of your room every five minutes. He’s constantly checking in on you, making sure you’re not too hot or too cold, that you’ve got something to drink, that you ate the soup he left-
Actually, Mammon’s not that bad of a caretaker! He’s a little too attentive, but he clearly knows what he’s doing. Also insists on being the only one that takes care of you until you’re better.
Polices everything you do. You wanna get out of bed? Nope, wait for Mammon. You’re bored? He’ll bring you something to do. Know what, he’s just gonna move into your room for the time being-
“Who told ya to go and get sick? Makin' me worry like this... I'm gonna make sure ya get better in no time, so you'd better be grateful, ya hear? I don't do this for just anybody..."
Levi
No way... You’re sick?! But you guys had plans to watch Magical Ruri Hana together...
Yeah, he’s not the best at caretaking despite watching Cells at Work, but he does know the basics! It kills him to leave his room so frequently, so.. why don’t you just stay in his room? He’ll take care of you there, and the healing waves of Ruri-chan will wash over you and get rid of your illness!
He definitely can’t be your primary caregiver, unless you want to be sick forever. Anime doesn't really imitate real life. Who would've thought?
 But he’s as attentive as he can be, at least! He brings you new DVDs to watch, manga to read, and delicious stacks to try whenever he can! Even if this is all he can do, he wants to make sure you know he’s thinking about you. May or may not also be spam texting you and keeping you awake-
“I brought the audio drama for you to listen to! It's from the TSL live series, where they act out the scenes! You won't have to worry about reading or watching anything, so you can listen to it to sleep. Oh, but I want to hear your opinion on everything! And then you- huh? When will you be able to sleep? Uh..."
Satan
The most knowledgeable when it comes to taking care of human illnesses, but he still fumbles a little. Insists on making an accurate diagnosis of your symptoms, and that takes way longer than the actual treatement,
But once he’s deduced what’s going on, Satan goes all in. You might feel like a guinea pig because of all the weird methods he’s trying on you (may or may not have read a medieval medicine book first), so uhhhhh be patient with him. Now hold still while he puts this onion in your sock-
Not as attentive as the others, but very thorough when he tends to you. And despite all the unorthodox healing methods, you actually recover quickly, by some miracle.
In the quieter moments when all you need is rest, Satan will sit by and quietly read to you until you lull off to sleep, brushing the hair from your face before he leaves.
“Hm... I was sure St. John's Wart would do the trick, but your fever hasn't broken at all? Maybe I ought to try minced garlic and honey next? Or maybe..- Eh? Just normal medicine is fine?"
Asmo
SICK?! No no, this won’t do at all! Asmo doesn’t want to see his darling MC looking so pale and unsightly! It’s off to bed with you now. No, not his bed he loves you but you’ve gotta understand-
Gentle affection is one of Asmo’s selling points, but that doesn’t mean the king of aftercare knows how to treat illnesses. He does however make you extremely comfortable. I’m talking extra fluffy pillows, cold and hot packs where you need them most, careful sponge baths (if you’ll let him), and everything else he can offer to make sure you’re okay.
May or may not show up in a hazmat suit, but don’t worry. The mask is clear so you get a view of his beautiful face! And when he isn’t around to take care of you, he sends pictures of himself to speed up the healing process.
Most likely to ask for help in your care. He tends to forget that you need more than affection and selfies to help you recover-
“Make sure you get better quickly, okay? I'll keep gracing your with my gorgeous face, and that ought to heal you in no time! Oh, maybe an herbal bath will help, too? I'll join you~!"
Beel
Extremely worried the moment you sneeze twice in a row. And when that escalates into a full blown cold, he immediately takes you to your room and cocoons you in every spare blanket he can find.
His care is sloppy, but full of affection. Your bed is a fluffy mess of soft blankets and pillows, and he lingers in your room nearly all day. And naturally, Beel knows you need to eat in order to heal.
You’re never without any food. This man will bring you an entire rotisserie chicken and a quart of orange juice for breakfast do not underestimate him. And if you can’t stomach anything, he’s try for things that’re easier to eat. like soups and broths. Also insists on feeding you himself.
Might also need some help in caring for you. He has good intentions and he’s being as careful with you as can be, but it can’t help to have another set of hands on the job. He wants to make sure you get the best care he can offer.
“Mm... you're not eating a lot today. Hm? You're full? But you only had a shadow hog roast, three sandwiches, and a gallon of juice. Are you sure that's enough? ...Well, maybe you're right. I'll eat what you can't finish, then. Hm? You're worried I'll get sick? It's fine. A human cold wont affect me."
Belphie
He knew something was up when you didn’t get out of bed that morning. Sleeping until 2pm is HIS thing, got it? Just kidding-
Tries not to show it, but this man is so worried that he can’t even sleep. BELPHEGOR, the Avatar of Sloth, is suffering from insomnia. 
He isn’t really the best at taking care of other people, but he knows that plenty of rest can only do you good. Belphie climbs into your bed and resigns himself to staying there until you heal. Somehow, having him around makes your sleep even deeper, so you always wake up feeling a little more rested than before.
Not so great at remembering when to bring you medicine and stuff, so the help of the others is a given. But despite that, you find yourself comfortable in every position you shift into. Belphie knows a thing or two about resting peacefully, so he’s got an eye for helping you with that.
“Are you feeling a little better today? ...Good. You were tossing and turning in your sleep, so I got you that ice pack. It look like your fever finally broke, so that means I can rest easy now.. goodnight......"
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fanimesenseiwrites · 4 years ago
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Things the MC would bring back to their demon bois from the mortal realm:
Lucifer:
MC goes to second hand stores and vintage shops always on the look out for vinyl records that they think Lucifer would like.
Most of the time they try and bring back stuff he'd actually like, such as Tchaikovsky or Vivaldi
Once, they brought back Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and Lucifer wouldn't stop kissing them (once they were in the privacy of his room of course)
Sometimes the MC will bring back more modern music just because it makes them think of him
"I dunno, I just listen to Hozier and think of you"
Lucifer doesn't like all the modern music they bring back but he appreciates the sentiment just the same
Then there's the gag gifts...
Any kind of music that has a reference to the devil or Satan or hell is fair game
These gifts usually elicit an eye roll from the eldest brother but he keeps them all the same
This is why Lucifer owns a copy of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"
So when MC brings back a copy of Giuseppe Tartini's Violin Sonata in G minor, they're a little surprised at Lucifer's delighted reaction
"You know, I was the one who visited Tartini in his dreams."
MC's mind = blown.
"Also, this copy is cursed. I know you know how much I enjoy cursed vinyls."
"I- wait... What?!"
MC is very upset that they had a cursed vinyl in their possession this whole time
Mammon:
This boy loves stuff, and he loves MC, so he's gonna love any gift really
But MC knows he loves treasure and jewels and as much as they'd love to just bring him back nice watches and jewelery...
MONEY IS A THING, AND MC IS NOT MADE OF IT.
So MC settles for semi-precious stones instead
They always find fun and beautiful stones at museums and those metaphysical stores and they always pick out one that reminds them of Mammon
They're really nervous when they give him his first gift
"Hey, I got this for you and I know it's not fancy or expensive but I saw it and thought of you and I just wanted you to have it."
Mammon will love them until they die. He is really just so touched that MC thought of him. He'll try and play it cool though
He totally fails. MC won't tell him that though
MC brings him Lapis Lazuli and tells him it reminded them of his eyes and Mammon is now a puddle of lovesick goo on the floor
Mammon puts more shelves in his room dedicated to all the gifts MC gives him
One time MC brings him back some fool's gold in a teeny little jar on a chain, so that he can wear it
"Fool's gold? Why cuz I'm a fool?" Mammon asks with a roll of his eyes.
"What? No, cuz I'm a fool for you."
Mammon only love MC until they die? WRONG.
He's gonna love them forever now
He was gonna do that anyways
Leviathan:
C'mon, this boy is easy. Anime/manga stuff and TSL. Need I say more?
At first he'll be suspicious of MC wanting to give him gifts, but once they've convinced him that they're doing it out of the kindness of their heart he's really touched
The first thing the MC brings him is a pen with a little Ruri-Chan on the end of it
"I know it's not much, but I just happened to see it and I knew you'd like it"
Like it??????
HE LOVES IT! HE'S OVER THE GODDAMM MOON.
He's never seen anything like this in the Devildom and he doesn't think about the small stuff usually because he's too busy trying to get the big collectors edition items. So he actually really loves this.
MC continues to bring him cute small stuff like buttons and keychains and Levi loves them all.
His favorite item(s) that MC brought him is a pair of Lord of Shadows and Henry BFF enamel pins
He definitely tackle hugged MC when he got them
He gives the Lord of Shadows pin back to MC so they can each have one and show off their BFF status with them
Satan:
MC loves going to second-hand bookstores to shop for Satan.
Satan also appreciates new books, but there's something special about how his face lights up when he finds something old or rare. Anything with a little bit of history to it.
Of course, finding rare books for not a lot of money is a rare event in itself
So a safe bet is to bring Satan non-fiction, the boy loves to learn
But he really loves it when MC puts thought into finding fiction books that he would like
"I just really feel like you'd like Dean Koontz so I brought you one of my favorites by him."
Satan loves those gifts the most because he can talk to MC about the books afterwards
Satan's absolute favourite gift is a leather bound copy of Arabian Nights though
"I was thinking we could read this one together"
"Like you read it to me and pretend to be Scheherazade?" Satan suggests.
MC is flustered at the connotation of the suggestion but agrees anyways
The time they spend together reading that story will forever be one of Satan's favorite memories
Asmodeus:
He's a little harder to shop for than the MC had originally imagined
They tried bringing him make-up and skin care, which Asmo always graciously accepted, but he never seemed super excited about the gifts
But what else is to be expected from the guy who already uses only the best products?
MC suddenly gets an idea when they send Asmo a selfie of them at the park
- OMG! You're so cute! And the background is pretty too!-
MC starts dressing up and going to nice and beautiful places just with the intention of taking pictures
Botanical Gardens, museums, downtown skylines, anything that would make for a good picture
MC goes full on aesthetic art hoe just for Asmo
Only the best pictures get sent to Asmo
Asmo is LIVING for the looks their MC is serving up
- You are absolutely STUNNING! I'm in awe at these AMAZING pictures-
MC makes a scrapbook of the best pictures to give to Asmo the next time they see him
Asmo loves it and keeps it on display in his room always
Also, Asmo definitely makes MC their personal photographer after seeing the wonderful shots they took
Beelzebub:
Obviously, the boy loves food. He's always down to try new snacks from the mortal realm.
But MC wonders if there's something better that they could bring him
One day MC is at GNC for supplements for themself when they notice the workout supplements and get an idea
They grab some fun flavored protein powder and some BCAAs and a really nice shaker bottle just for Beel
Beel is actually really excited to get these gifts!
The Devildom doesn't have fun flavors of protein powder and the shaker bottle is such a great idea!
MC always brings new flavors of protein back for Beel, doing their best to find the weirdest flavors for him to try
Beel's favorite is definitely Birthday Cake.
MC starts bringing him new stuff to try too, protein bars, recovery supplements, collagen, and superfoods shakes
Beel tries everything and tells MC what their favorites are
"I love the BCAAs, I just wish the Devildom had them..." *sad Beel noises*
MC may or may not talk to Diavolo about researching BCAAs and getting them produced and sold in the Devildom
The supplements MC brings actually help Beel with his workouts and to control his hunger (a little)
Beel actually gets hotter??? Who knew that was possible???
MC definitely takes advantage of Beel's new 8-pack 😏😏😏
Belphegor:
What do you get the boy who only wants to sleep?
MC has gotten him stuffed animals and blankets and even a couple of nice pillows, but nothing seems to excite him
... but maybe that's just his personality??
It's not until MC accidentally leaves a sweater in the Devildom, that they figure it out
- You left your sweater down here- Belphie texts MC.
- Oh no, I'll just get when I come to visit y'all again-
- That's fine. I like having something that smells like you-
And the light bulb went off in MC's head.
Every time MC goes to visit they leave a shirt or sweater behind for Belphie, so that he can have something that smells like them.
Belphie loves how MC smells, its like a sweet dream all the time. It helps him sleep better when they're gone.
Belphie starts to complain when MC is gone longer than the item they left smells like them
(Which is every time)
So MC will start leaving Belphie more than one item, packing them in airtight bags so he can use them one after another until they return
Belphie can and will fight anyone who tries to take MC's clothing
"Mammon, you have two seconds to put that sweater back or I will kill you."
And Lucifer probably won't stop him
Diavolo:
He's honestly the easiest to please.
He's so fascinated with any thing that humans do that he'll enjoy any gift from the human world.
MC's first gift to him is a rubber duck.
"The duck is wearing a crown so it made me think of you and I just thought it was cute."
"I love it! What's its purpose?"
"Uh... to float around in the bathtub with you and look cute?"
"Isn't that what you're for?"
Diavolo loves the rubber duck so much it gets his own silk pillow to rest on when it's not taking a bath with Diavolo.
MC brings him cute pens, and keychains sometimes bottles of wine if the bottle is cute.
"The bottle is shaped like a cat! Isn't that delightful?!"
MC's proudest moment was when they found a full and intact tea set at the thrift store
Diavolo immediately fell in love with it.
He insists on only using that set when having tea with MC
But his favorite gift will always be the rubber duck.
Barbatos:
He'll insist that he doesn't need any gifts but that won't stop the MC.
MC is with him in the kitchen in the Demon Lord's Palace when they get an idea.
KITCHEN TOYS.
Barbatos works so hard, he deserves some things to make his life easier and liven up the bland kitchen
MC's first gift is a vegetable spiralizer.
"You use it to turn zucchini and squash and the like into noodles so that you can do fun stuff with vegetables!"
Barbatos accepts it graciously, but he'll probably never use it.
MC brings him spices from the mortal realm and Barbatos actually really loves those.
When MC brings him a food processor, he offers to cook for them right then and there
Despite all the weird gadgets MC ends up bringing him, and there are plenty out there, Barbatos's favorite is a ladle that looks like a stegosaurus.
It's far more whimsical than anything he would've ever picked out, and he'll never use it, but only because he's afraid of ruining it, not because he doesn't love it.
At some point, Barbatos does ask MC to stop bringing him kitchen gadgets
"Why? Do you not like them?" MC asks with a pout.
"I appreciate all of them, but I have everything I need when you're in the kitchen with me."
If MC wasn't already in love with him they are now
Smooth bastard just doesn't want anymore shit in his kitchen
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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago
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pleeeease write a blurb where the girl's a member of little mix and they do an award show performance, so tom keeps hyping his girl up and recording stories, just being a supportive bf 🥺
Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m so sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy it💞 I know you said you wanted a blurb, but I could never write short things, I’m always too damned detailed and shit, I’m sorry😭 Happy reading🥰
💌.
#1 Fan
Based on Little Mix’s 2019 BRITs performance of Woman Like Me, I suggest watching it to understand Tom’s insta story💞
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“You’re going to absolutely smash it. All of you are.” Tom encouraged you. His large hands grasp onto yours comfortingly. The two of you were currently backstage at the BRITs in your and the girls’ shared dressing room. Tonight was a big night for you all, as you and the girls were nominated for two awards: British Artist Video of the Year and British Group of the Year. Additionally, the five of you were going to be performing your latest single, “Woman Like Me”.
To say that you were jittery was an understatement. You were terrifyingly nervous, it made you feel nauseous. Your stomach was a jungle of butterflies, fluttering nonstop as the time to perform grew closer and closer. You glanced at the clock and took a deep breath. The pink latex bra you had on felt as if it were getting tighter and tighter around your chest. Tom notices your slight discomfort and glances at the time, “How about we sit? You’ve got plenty of time to relax before you all go on stage.”
Tom wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to the couch in the dressing room. He settles beside you and moves his arm to rest across your lap, his hand interlocking with yours. You leaned back into the seat and watched the girls make last minute touches to their hair, face, and costumes. Tom squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. Your eyes shift to meet his warm chocolate brown ones. A soft smile grows on his lips, “Hey.”
You reciprocate his smile with a smaller one, “Hi.”
“What’s wrong? You rarely get jitters before going out on stage.” He asks you quietly so only you could hear. You stare down at your lap and fiddle with his fingers.
“I-it’s just different from what we’ve been doing lately.” You start, glancing at Tom. He nods for you to continue, “We just haven’t been doing live performances for such a long time. Like on tour, we’re usually performing in front of our fans. Not the entire British music industry or live television.”
Tom brings your hand up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss on it. “There’s nothing to worry about, darling. You—and the girls, are going to do amazing as always. You guys are the best at live performances. The amount of work and dedication you girls put into this is going to pay off, I swear, it’ll be a standing ovation. Everyone’s going to love it.”
You smile at your boyfriend’s support for you and the girls. You couldn’t help but peck his lips, to which he replied with a lovestruck grin.
“I’m just nervous that I’ll mess up. Like what if I miss a step of the choreography—or stumble on my words while I’m singing? Oh god, what if I forget the lyrics—“ Your eyes widen in horror as your head generated all the worst case scenarios that could happen on stage. Tom shushes you and gingerly cradles your jaw, being careful of the makeup on your face.
“Listen to me.” He levels his eyes with yours to make sure your attention is on him. “You’re not going to mess up or forget a line—none of that nonsense is going to happen. It’s a load of bullshit. You wanna know why? Because you’re (y/n) (l/n), a member of one of the biggest girl bands of the world, you’re my girlfriend, and you’re the most beautiful and talented girl I’ve ever met. You’re just overthinking. I know you, (y/n). Once the music starts on stage you get lost and start singing your heart out, the crowd just disappears from existence. It’s only you and the girls up on that stage and you’re going to make one hell of a performance. I just know it and so do the other people waiting in that audience.”
You stare at him, stunned by his sudden motivational speech. “Since when did you get good at pep talks?”
His mouth gapes at you, “Uh—stan Twitter? The fans? Is that seriously what you got from all of that?” You shook your head and wrapped your hands around his wrist. “No, I heard every single word. I guess I’m feeling a bit more better now, so thank you, Tommy.” You peck his lips again, despite the fact that your lip gloss was getting on his lips. Though he didn’t care, as long as he was kissing you.
“Still got some nerves?”
“Just a little bit. But I’ll be fine, especially with you in the crowd.” You interlock your fingers with his and glance at the clock. Only 10 more minutes till you were all going to perform.
Tom’s face lights up, “Front seat babe, I got the best seat in the house. I swear, I’m recording the whole performance on my phone. I already got Harrison to help me take Instagram stories for me at the same time. I need every angle.”
Jesy takes that as her cue to join the conversation, “My goodness, you’re such a dork.” She reaches her hand out for you to help you get off the couch.
Tom fakes a dramatic gasp, knowing Jesy didn’t really mean her jab at him. “I don’t know what you’re taking about, I’m just being a very supportive boyfriend. AND Little Mix’s number one fan.”
You dust your pink pants off and take a look at yourself in the full body mirror. You did a little shake too loosen your limbs out and did some breathing exercises. Tom lets you do your pre-performance ritual while he talks with the girls.
Perrie crosses her arms, amused at the younger Brit, “Are you seriously competing against a bunch of teenage girls to deem yourself as our number one fan?”
“Well are they dating one of the members of Little Mix? I don’t think so. You know who is? Me.” Tom gestures to himself sassily. “I even get to hear all the new music earlier than everybody else and get good seats at concerts.” He bragged while one of the members on your team helped you place your in-ears.
Jesy rolls her eyes before gesturing to the door, “Right, I’m calling security. Apparently we’ve got a crazed fan in our dressing room.” Jade and Leigh-Anne stifle a laugh at the bickering.
“You can’t kick me out, I have backstage access.” Tom defended himself with crossed arms.
“No seriously, babe. We’re about to perform in five.” You join the conversation, finally feeling your anxiousness start to fade away. Tom blinks at you, “I’m being kicked out by my own girlfriend?”
Jesy laughs at Tom, taking the piss out of his offended expression. A sly smirk grows on your face. You hold your hands out for him to help him off the couch, “If you want to record every second and angle of our performance, I suggest leaving now.”
Tom straightens out his suit before interlocking your fingers with his. He leans forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re gonna be great. I love you.”
You giggle, eyes beaming up at his warm brown ones, “I love you too. Now get back to Harrison, you’ve left him alone for too long.” Prior to leaving, he stops in his tracks and manages to gather you and the girls into a group selfie. He wishes you all good luck and leaves, making his way back to his seat in the audience.
While he walks back, he posts the selfie you all took onto his Instagram story with the caption, “Good luck to these beautiful ladies! Tune into the BRITs to see their performance, you don’t wanna miss it!”
He gets back to the table designated for you and the girls to see Harrison with an unamused face.
“What?” Tom asks him, confused at his friend.
“You left me here by myself, you div.” Harrison quips. Tom cringes and apologizes to his friend.
“You’re still gonna help me record the performance, right?” Tom sheepishly asked gesturing to Harrison’s phone.
“Yes, Tom, I’ve told you multiple times that I’ll record it.” Harrison held his phone up getting his camera ready. Harrison was about the rant about Tom and how whipped the boy was for you, but was sushed by his best friend.
“SHUT UP IT’S STARTING. HARRISON START RECORDING!” The lights dimmed while someone announced you and the girls. Harrison had his phone already filming while Tom held his phone up, ready to start recording things for his Instagram story.
Tom’s Instagram Story:
“HOLY SHIT!” Tom screamed behind the camera as he recorded the opening of the performance.
You and the girls were stood up while the dancers were on the floor thrusting up at you all. The camera flips to Tom, who’s mouth was agape, “THAT SHOULD BE ME.”
The camera is back to the stage, where you and the girls are doing the choreography with the chairs. Tom whoops loudly in the background and yells, “THAT’S FUCKING SICK—HARRISON LOOK AT THEM.”
“YESS! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!” Tom screamed, thrusting his finger in your direction when your part of the song came on.
Tom zooms in on you as you strutted alongside the girls on the stage, he flips the camera back to him and a smirk is on his lips. He nodded before telling the camera, “That’s my girl.”
Tom forgot to turn his camera around and ended up recorded himself reacting to the performance. A proud smile is on his features while his eyes lit up as they followed you on stage. He leaned closer to Harrison and says, “She looks stunning, mate, my god.”
The stories cut to him and Harrison dancing and singing along to Woman Like Me.
The camera cuts back to you. You’re singing your part in the chorus and you hit a certain note that stuns Tom. He flips the camera to himself, a shocked expression on his face while he hyped you up.
The colored lights reflect onto Tom’s face, his mouth widens when he realizes you and the girls included a dance break in the performance. He flips the camera back, making sure all five of you were in frame.
Tom cheers in the background along with the audience when you and the girls finish your performance.
An unbreakable smile is on Tom’s lips, “There you all have it, I tried to record some parts just in case you all missed it—But that was probably one of the greatest performances they have ever done. I feel so honored to be here.”
Tom leans over so him and Harrison are in frame, “What did you think of the performance, Harrison?” Harrison grins, “I thought it was out of this world, I wasn’t expecting that.”
Tom’s face is hovered above the camera, “I just wanted to let you all know, that after tonight, I am officially becoming a Little Mix fan account. Follow me for more insider updates on Little Mix.”
You come back to the table to see Tom, Harrison, and the girl’s dates beaming at the five of you. You’re all greeted with congratulations and hugs. When you finally reach Tom, he crashes his lips onto yours and lifts you up.
You giggle against his lips, “Hello to you too.”
He pecks your lips twice more before placing you back down, “You were—I don’t even know how to describe it. You were fucking amazing up there.”
You whine, the blush growing on your cheeks while you hid your face in his neck, “Well, I couldn’t have done it without your little pep talk. So thank you, lovey.” 
Tom waves you off while helping you into the seat beside him, “That was all you, darling.”
You and the girls settled down as the awards show continued on. You were drinking a glass of water and reached out to check your phone. Tom stops you, grabbing your wrist. You shoot him a look.
“No—just, don’t watch my Instagram story. Please.” He asks you with a sheepish smile. A loud roar of laughter is heard from across the table, making you all look at Jesy. She simply holds her phone up, screen facing you all, with Tom’s story playing on it.
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kyuuppi · 4 years ago
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vegetable stew
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Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)
Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)
Word Count: 2.1k
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Kenma has always been observant.
It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.
The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?
He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.
Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.
Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.
Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.
You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.
Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).
You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.
Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.
For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.
You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.
You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.
And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.
“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.
Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.
It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.
Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.
Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.
Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.
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When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.
You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.
“Welcome back,” he greets softly.
“Are you...cooking something?”
Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.
“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.
The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.
“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.
The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.
Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.
“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”
You freeze.
Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—
“I appreciate it,” you start.
Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.
“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”
Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.
“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”
You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.
“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”
“I think you’re being a little extreme.”
You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.
“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”
“I’m worried about you,” he insists.
“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”
“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”
“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”
The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.
You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”
Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.
The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.
Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.
A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.
Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.
You love him more than you hate yourself.
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amysteriousmessenger · 4 years ago
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The rfa + saeran sending nudes to mc
I got you anon!! I hope these are okay! <3 
RFA (+ Saeran and V) sending Reader nudes Headcanons (NSFW)
Yoosung Kim sending Reader nudes Headcanons
Yoosung has literally never taken a nude picture in his life, he gets embarrassed even at the thought of it. It’s not something he would really be into usually, but if you get him really in the mood and send him a couple of pictures first to make him feel more comfortable he might consider sending one or two.
He isn’t really sure what it is you want to see, and he definitely doesn’t feel like he can ask Zen or Seven what he’s supposed to do because they would literally never live it down. He’d also never survive the shame of asking in the first place. 
Yoosung is a little bit self-conscious of his body and doesn’t think particularly highly of himself, so the most you would probably get from him is a picture of his semi-erection bulge through his trousers, maybe with his hand slipping underneath. 
He’s not one for taking pictures of himself but he’s more than happy to see some of you, if you’re willing to send them. He can’t believe how lucky he is that he’s the one you chose to share these photographs with.
Zen/Hyun Ryu sending Reader nudes Headcanons
  Zen? The chance to share another selfie? He’s already on board. It always sits in the back of his mind that he worries the server will get hacked and that the pictures will leak and it could damage his career, but he has faith in Seven’s protection.
He doesn’t even need a reason to take them, he already has a bunch stored. He tries to keep them tasteful, so there’s never really any full cock action, it’ll be concealed with a towel or a well placed shampoo bottle. He has to make sure the lighting hits his body just right to show you all of his best muscles. He has a full length mirror in his bathroom, and by God, he’s going to make use of it. Most of his nudes are post-shower pictures because he thinks he looks particularly good when dripping wet. Well, he is dripping with good looks after all.
He’s also definitely one to get turned on by his own pictures, and his own moans too if you’re having phone sex together. He definitely prefers sending them whilst talking over the phone because he wants to hear your reaction to them and to hear you praising him.
If you wanted a fresh TM picture, you’d be most likely to get one of Zen pulling his grey sweatpants slightly down to reveal his abs, V-line and the top of his pubic hair. He’d also lift his t-shirt up so you could see his abs in the shadows. The lighting would be dark and he would just be lying in bed but*chef’s kiss* it’s still OnlyFans worthy. 
Jaehee Kang sending Reader nudes Headcanons
Jaehee has also never really been one for taking and sending pictures of herself. It makes her rather anxious and she doesn’t really think there’s anything special enough about her body to justify taking a picture of it. Like Zen, she would worry about the pictures somehow getting leaked and damaging her career, but reassures herself that there’s essentially zero chances of that happening and if they did, Seven would make sure that all evidence was destroyed. 
She’s always pleasantly surprised and extremely flustered to receive images from you, but she might need a little coaxing and reassurance in order to send one back.
She’d start simple, with nice pictures of her thighs, maybe her stomach with a little bit of her bra revealed whilst she worked up the confidence to send anything else. 
Even when she is more comfortable, Jaehee doesn’t really take her underwear off for these pictures. So, the most explicit you would get from her is her ass reflected in a mirror in some lingerie that she bought for the two of you to enjoy on her. 
Jumin Han sending Reader nudes Headcanons
As much as Jumin enjoys receiving explicit images from you, telling how much you want and need him, he rarely sends one back. He much prefers to call and hear your voice and tease you saying that you’d have to wait for him to come home before you can have him, and that you deserve a punishment for pulling something like this when he’s at work, especially when you know he has a meeting he’s supposed to be concentrating on right now.
On the occasion that you do get a picture back, it’s a blurry. Barely even visible. You wouldn’t even know it was a concealed erection otherwise. The majority of Jumin’s lewd pictures are of his bulge through his suit trousers, hidden under his desk. 
Whilst he would fuck you in his office, he’s not one for masturbating at work so he’d sooner send you a picture of his clothed erection and tell you what you have to look forward to the second he steps into the penthouse.
Besides, him ignoring his erection now is only going to make it feel even better later when he finally gets his hands on you.
Saeyoung Choi sending Reader nudes Headcanons 
Every time Seven gets a picture from you, he mutters a prayer and kisses his cross, asking forgiveness for the sins he is about to commit. 
Seven’s nudes still have Honey Butter chip crumbs on his trouser leg. Tasteful. Classy. 
He worries about one of the hackers chasing him somehow coming across yours and his nudes, so whilst he Cannot bear to part with your wonderful, blessed, gorgeous images, he’ll keep them on an encrypted floppy disk that only he knows how to gain access to. He is the only one that will ever get to see such photos of you.
He’ll send images similar to Zen, with his V line and pubic hair visible and his hand disappearing beneath his trousers, but the outline of his dick very much visible. 
He’s also very much someone that would want to call you so he could hear you as he was touching himself. Bonus points if you’re putting on a show for him on one of the cameras whilst you’re on the phone with him, because then he gets live action visuals. 
Sometimes he’ll wear his maid outfit and send you pictures of his ass, jut to keep it fresh and remind you that he does have a rather nice ass, if he does say so himself. 
When he’s jerking himself off, he’ll bite onto the hem of his t-shirt so he doesn’t cum on it and revealing his stomach and chest in the process, but it is Quite a few to see him finish on his abdomen, which he would probably send you a photo of before cleaning it up. 
Saeran Choi sending Reader nudes Headcanons (Unknown)
[The only alters I can see actually sending nudes would be Unknown and Suit Saeran, so I’m going to write this with Unknown in mind!]
Out of Saeran’s alters, Unknown is the flirtiest and probably the one who would actually send a nude first once it was established both parties were interested. He’d take the picture from below whilst he was lounging on a chair, so the phone has the upward angle and got to include all the Best TM aspects that he wanted in the picture. 
Unknown would bite at his shirt to reveal his abdomen and to show a devilish flash of a grin. The phone is set to an angel that it’s exactly what someone would see if they were on their knees in front of him, which was entirely intentional on his part.
The photo would cut off above the smile, and his free hand would be resting just next to his bulge, most definitely drawing attention to it. His legs are slightly spread and his tattoo is even more visible than usual.
It wouldn’t be a full nude, but definitely the outline of his cock pushing through the leather trousers and the caption, ‘I bet you want to see more, right?.’
If you sent him a picture back, don’t expect a lot of praise because the only thing you’re going to get back is a ‘heh, not bad’. That means he really liked it.
V/Jihyun Kim sending Reader nudes Headcanons 
V rarely sends his own nudes, but you know what he Would send? Your nudes. He would absolutely send you photographs of lewd polaroids that he had taken over the course of your relationship. To him, that was better than any pornography available and it was the only material that he had any interest in it.
He doesn’t really think he’s anything special or worth taking pictures of, but you on the other hand, he could take a picture of you every minute of every day and it would never be enough.
The closest you would get to a nude from V would be his silhouette looming over the bed that was covered in these pictures, the shadow of his hand over his crotch. 
It would have been creepy if anyone else was to do it, but V was your partner and you thought it was rather hot that he prized and worshipped  your images in such a way. He adored the way the expressions you made, the emotion, the purity and how good you were making one another feel in those photographs. 
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elliotoille · 5 years ago
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Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help
I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing. 
I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs. 
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^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.
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^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.
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^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.
Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:
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1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully. 
2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.
3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft
thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.
4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.
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1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view
2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.
3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.
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1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.
2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.
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so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.
anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.
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aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want
and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.
DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol
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lightsovermonaco · 4 years ago
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His Good Sweater: Chapter 4
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Masterlist
Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥
Word Count: 3.8k
Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee
You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.
Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."
Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."
A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.
“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”
“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”
You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.
**********
A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.
"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"
You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"
"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 
You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 
Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.
“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”
Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”
You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”
“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.
"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.
"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.
Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.
“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”
You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”
The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.
You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.
Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.
You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?
It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.
There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.
Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."
It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.
"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.
Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”
“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”
“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 
“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”
You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”
“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.
Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 
You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 
“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.
“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.
Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 
The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.
By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”
“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.
A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.
“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”
Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.
“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”
"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.
"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”
Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"
"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"
"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."
"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"
You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.
Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"
"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."
**********
Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 
Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.
"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."
Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.
You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 
This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.
"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.
"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."
No she isn't.
You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.
"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 
Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.
"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 
"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 
"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 
"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."
Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"
"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"
Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.
The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.
The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.
"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 
"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 
"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 
"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.
Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”
“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”
Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”
Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”
You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”
“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”
You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”
“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”
“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.
“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”
You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”
“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”
You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”
“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.
“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.
He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.
“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.
A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”
You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”
He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.
“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”
“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.
“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”
You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.
Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.
“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-
“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.
“Pierre?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”
Tagging: @flashcal
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leejeongz · 4 years ago
Text
nsfw a-z: PARK JIHOON (treasure)
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requested: yes, by anon
🔅thanks for requesting sweetheart i hope u like it🔅
most of this is taken from conversations i’ve had with my good pal @multifandomwhxre there are probably thousands of direct quotes lol 🥺😳 if ur reading this, pls give her a follow ❤️
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
he gets quite soft. since he’s a hard dom, he wants to show you that even though you’re his little bitch, you’re also his little baby that he wants to cuddle forever. i think he’d like to talk about what happened and actually praise you in hopes of getting praised back.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he likes your eyes, he likes how they say everything. they tell him everything you’re too shy to say or everything you’re not allowed to say.
on him, he likes his arms (shocker ik). his physical strength gives him even more power over you, like being able to pin you down on the bed or up against a wall, maybe even hold you for a short while.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he LOVES to cum inside you but only when you agree to it. if you don’t, he’s more than happy to pull out and cum on your stomach and admire how pretty it looks. when he decides you’re just gonna suck his dick, he takes great care trying to get all of his cum into your mouth and making you swallow it while his hand holds up your chin, forcing you to look at him as you do so. sometimes it doesn’t always go as planned, getting it over your face, but he’d just be like “oh look at all this mess you just made” and then use his fingers to put in all into your mouth.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
all the pictures you send him get saved into an album and he uses them and them only to get off to, even some selfies are worthy of being put in the wank bank. he thinks porn is cheating and if he ever caught you watching it, he’d be pretty disappointed rather than turned on (even if u were just fwb), so that’s why he uses ur pics and his imagination.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he knows what he’s doing, alright. he’s had enough experience to know what he likes and that’s pretty much all that matters to him and all he lets on to you too. (he’s probably only had one sexual partner, but the way he acts makes you think he’s had more)
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
butterfly (lying on the edge of the bed (or any surface) while he stands between your legs)
he loves being able to pull you closer to him by your legs, being able to reach deeper inside you and (maybe his favourite parts) being able to grab your tits and rub your clit with his thumb. there are no disadvantages of this position for him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
very serious. might laugh AT you but that’s the only laughing to be heard.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
completely clean shaven. even the balls lol.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
not very romantic. at all. you’re still his and he doesn’t let you forget that. but you’re his cum slut or his dirty little whore in the moment. kisses are few and far between and mainly occur after he’s finished.
just wanna make a quick point- he’s not always gonna be hard dom jihoon who loves to tease and doesn’t care for ur wants. ofc he reserves some time for you two to actually be romantic, with little tickles and smooches. he can switch it up real quick depending on how YOU are feeling, it’s not about him all the time. i just chose to write this mainly about the other side of him since that is the most InTeREsTiNG and probably the most frequent kind of sex you’d have.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
only once a week. quite secretive about it when he’s acc doing it but doesn’t shy away from cracking jokes or even just generally talking about masturbation with anyone.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
where do i even begin i think it would be easier to list kinks he doesn’t have… anyway:
degradation - in the moment, you’re his slut, his whore and your desires mean very little to him. he’s not going to stop when you ask him to stop (unless u say the safe word or seem genuinely uncomfortable), you ARE going to do what he tells you to do and when he tells you to do it and you are not going to do anything else.
bondage (kinda?)- handcuffs are his best friend, he likes having your hands where he can see them or where he can hold onto the chain/your wrists, behind your back is his favourite, but he never knows which he prefers, holding them or pulling your hair. even though he has handcuffs, sometimes he likes to spice it up and use a leather belt, he finds this hotter and it turns him on a lot more.
corruption - this can include taking your virginity or just “teaching” someone innocent (virgin or not) about sex. jihoon would love it if you kept asking questions and he could just show you. he’d love to see the sluttier side of you become more and more noticeable and apparent, knowing he did that to you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
he’s up for doing it anywhere but he’d rather do it in the comfort of his own home, in the bedroom.
he wouldn’t be opposed to doing it on someone else’s bed. i imagine he’d actually find it pretty funny to fuck you on someone else’s bed, let you both get it all dirty, then go and face the friend all innocently. the inside joke/secret could be used for teasing or just to bring you closer together.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
i mean making him jealous always makes him wanna show you who you really belong to but do you really wanna be risking the best fuck of your life like that. he could easily get rid of you if you even slightly overstep the boundaries.
it’s safer to just… act like a little brat. telling him you don’t wanna do something for him like getting him a drink gets him real mad and mad jihoon=turned on jihoon when it comes to you.
but also just the normal stuff. seeing you all dressed up nice makes him wanna cancel your plans for you. pressing yourself against him while spooning gives him an instant hard on (and you need to be punished for doing that to him). sometimes even just the way you look at him, maybe it reminds him of how you look up at him while sucking his dick.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
let you be the dom 😳 absolutely never not in a million years. some guys might like to watch you try, but he doesn’t even give you the chance. he likes it when you top, but he would never EVER let you be in control.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
prefers to receive. likes to fuck your face and watch your mascara get ruined. wants you to take his whole dick, every last inch and will not be satisfied until you do.
when giving, he also likes to use his hands too. this man knows where the clit is i’m just saying. very rare that he eats you out (would rather use his fingers or toys during foreplay) and usually doesn’t last that long because it turns him on too much, he just wants to fuck you. when he does go down on you, it’s usually after he’s finished (doesn’t want to if he’s cum inside u tho).
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
whatever makes you squirm and moan the most. starts slow but gets fast real quick. once you let out even a hint of pleasure, he’s gonna slow it right down again. the “hard and fast” approach doesn’t work for everyone and so he’d make it suit your needs.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
would rather be able to spend time making the experience better and dirtier than the last, however, if he wanted to fuck there and then, or if he wanted to be in your mouth right at that moment, and there’s nothing stopping him, he’ll just take you to the bathroom or smth and would just d o i t. (tease him for a fast pass to the bathroom)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he will do almost everything once, and most of the time will enjoy it and do it again. a light bit of bdsm and sensory deprivation (with a safe word of course) would be incorporated into what you pair would deem a normal round after just a few nights.
he’d also try anything you wanted to, he wouldn’t shy away from anything that you suggested, even if he thought he wouldn’t like it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can usually last for a while (a while in my opinion anyway idk what u think is a long time CoUgH cOUgh evie) maybe 20-30 minutes (including foreplay ofc) but he can only usually last one round a night. he’s more than happy to eat you out or put his hands to good use if you wanna cum again tho- one of the only times he’ll let you tell him what to do.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
uses toys to tease you. likes holding a vibrator to your clit and telling you not to cum until he says you can. it really turns him on to use them on you. but if he ever caught you using them on yourself without his permission… you’re in for one hell of a “talking to”.
would never use them on himself- he thinks giving you the power to use them on him, or even using them on himself, is too much power that he doesn’t have for himself if that makes sense.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
a whole bloody lot okay. he doesn’t care where you are or who you’re with, if he wants to tease you, he will. is the type to buy one of those toys that you can control on your phone and then laugh when you’re at point of orgasm in the middle of dinner. the reactions he gets from you might turn him on a little, and it’s always your fault if they do, you’re gonna pay for it.
he’s really REALLY unfair during sex too, although to him it’s very fair that you have to wait to be treated. as i mentioned before, he likes to steady the pace when you’re getting into it and he also likes slapping his dick on you to tease you before actually going in. just some of the many things he does to tease you and to treat you “as you deserve”
a lot of the teasing he does is for you though, don’t get me wrong. he knows this will make up you hungrier and you will cum harder and feel good so he doesn’t it all the more.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
GROWLS
only so you can hear them, right next to your ear.
and also a lot of degradation, but volume isn’t something he cares about with that.
idk where to put this but i don’t think he’d be a fan of you being too loud, especially when there are other people in the house. if they were gonna hear anyone, he wants it to be him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
“come here” jihoon orders as you shut the front door behind you.
you apprehensively approach the coach upon which he is sat, relaxed but noticeably hard.
“care to explain this” he shows you the text you sent him as you were on your way home reading “remember that cash you gave me to spend?” with a photo of your new ruby red lingerie set attached. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you? maybe i shouldn’t even punish you for this, but i want to”
you swallowed audibly, knowing you were going to be punished, kind of excited about what’s to come.
“get here” he nodded towards his lap. you did as he requested, lying face down on his lap, and he immediately pulled your jeans down a little. he rubbed your ass a little before forcefully planting a harsh hand on it. the other hand held your wrists together behind your back, squeezing them until they became numb. you squealed a little which encouraged another smack. both cheeks soon became the same colour as your new lingerie, still jiggling as much as the first time even though you were tense.
“you want another?” he asked. you nodded without thinking, the stinging infesting your brain. “hmm interesting” he sat back for a moment, considering his next move while his hand rested on your back. you tried to get up… little did you know this was when the real punishment was going to begin.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
does it matter this guy can give you all the pleasure you need with whatever tools he’s got 👀
but i think he’s average tbh… maybe a lil bit longer and girthier (?) but nothing too large. one of the biggest in group. still enough to have you choking and gagging in the first 5 mins of a blowjob hahahahahah
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
very high 😳 and he’s not afraid to show it. 5 days a week is his ideal but he understands that too much of a good thing can make you bored of it so it’s usually probably just once or twice a week. expects some spontaneous head when ur not gonna acc have sex tho.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
once he knows that you’re happy and that you’ve had a good time, he can fall asleep anytime (usually pretty quickly bc he’s tired from having a literal workout with you). if something seems off with you afterwards, he’d stay awake for hours thinking what he could have possibly done wrong, even though he knows you’d tell him if something was wrong.
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Text
Mistletoe Headcanons
So all the boys except Siver and Sebek are in here. I wanted to post them last night but my power went out. Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: fluff, kissing, possibly oc characters
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Heartslabyul:
Riddle Rosehearts:
Not sure how to react
On one hand he would like to take the head of whoever put it up
On the other hand he has to follow the rules and the rules with mistletoe are that you have to kiss who you meet underneath the hanging kiss trap
Oh look you’re the one he has to kiss
He’s gone beet red by now 
Rules are rules though
Steel’s himself and shuts his eyes
The kiss is quick and somewhat off since he couldn’t see what he was doing
“Ahem, excuse me”
Your shocked as Riddle runs into the next room
Trey Clover:
Somewhat annoyed by the mistletoe
But only because he knows he’s gonna have to deal with Riddle later when the dorm head finds out
What he isn’t annoyed by is your cute, stunned face staring up at it
Taking his chance he moves in and pecks you gently on the lips
Your shocked gaze meets his and he smiles before moving around you
Wait. What just happened?
Cater Diamond: 
Don’t tell Riddle but he knew the mistletoe was going to be there
Tells you he wants to take a selfie with you in this doorway because it has ‘good lighting’
“Oh look mistletoe. You know what that means.”
Steals a kiss before you can even react
He pulls back with a wink
“If you wanna take another selfie here later let me know.”
Ace Trapolla:
Highkey he’s the one that put it there
Literally only thought that other people were gonna get caught 
Spends quite a bit of time lingering near the doorway and laughing into his cup when people realize what they walked into
It’s not until you’ve attempted to drag him to the other room through the doorway that he realize that he’s screwed
Cater sneakily points it out to you
You grab him excitedly and kiss him on the lips 
“Oh...ok. Thanks”
Walks away stunned and redder than Riddle’s hair
Deuce Spade:
Oh no
He forgot this was going to be here
The two of you have been standing in this doorway for about 3 minutes and you haven’t seemed to notice
Unfortunately he knows that he can’t walk away now that he’s been caught
Takes a deep breath and kisses you
Not understanding what happened you pull back shocked
“Oh my god I’m so sorry-” 
You see the mistletoe and kiss him again
Smiling shyly you pull back and walk away
“Wow I kissed someone”
Ace is snorting in the background
Savanaclaw:
Leona Kingscholar:
Deeply annoyed by this situation
His tail swishes irattably behind him
Whoever did this was going to get eaten
More upset that he was foolish enough to get caught by it
Realizing that you’re staring at it curiously he sighs and puts his fingers on the bridge of his nose
Here goes nothing
He growls and grabs your chin, tilting it towards him
He kisses you harshly and growls again in distaste that he had to be coerced into this by a damn plant
Pulling away he only takes a second to admire your flushed face and dazed look before grunting “African mistletoe” and stalking away
Pointedly ignores any stares he gets and growls under his breath
Would deny it to his death but he enjoyed the brief kiss
Would also deny that he wants to do it again
Ruggie Bucchi:
Snickers at the face you make when you realize you guys are underneath a mistletoe hanging
Greatly appreciates the blush that decorates your cheeks
He honestly doesn’t care all that much about the mistletoe
It’s just a kiss
He leans forward and pecks you on the lips before pulling back and snickering again
“You should see your face y/n” 
Stunned you mumbled and walked away
He wished he had taken the chance to kiss you again
Jack Howl:
Oh boy
Tsundere wolf blushes like a madman
He’s pretty much in denial that mistletoe exists
You noticed that the two of you had crossed underneath it and pulled him back to the doorway
“Rules are rules”
He didn’t appreciate you saying that
Sighing he moves in to kiss your cheek
You turn at the last second and place your lips together 
He’s in complete shock and his face makes you giggle
Will deny to the end of his life that his tail wagged like crazy afterwards
Octavinelle:
Azul Ashengrotto:
Isn’t the type to let his fluster show at first
Will casually gesture to the mistletoe and ask you how you feel about the tradition
Unconsciously strikes up a conversation about it to prolong the inevitable
At some point you realize what he’s doing and reach to kiss him
He makes a noise of surprise but quickly contains himself to kiss you back gently
You pull away and continue to talk about christmas traditions as if nothing happened
No there isn’t a blush on his face (he’s just developed a fever that’s all)
Jade Leech:
Sneaky eel 
This man probably conspired to put it there in the first place
Also meant to get you underneath it with him
He takes a moment to watch you shift uneasily as he eyes you like you’re prey
Taller then you so he leans down and places a hand underneath your chin
Kisses you slowly and teases you a but by nibbling on your lip
When you think he’s going to deepen it he pulls back with a smile
“Darling if you wanted to kiss me you should have just said so. No need to use traditions as an excuse.”
Yes that was his way of flustering you further while also slyly mentioning that he didn’t just kiss you because of the mistletoe
Floyd Leech:
Not a fan of the mistletoe game
He’s aware of it and makes a point not to get caught underneath it
He’s not a kisser 
He’s a hugger
If he ever did meet someone under the mistletoe he would pretend to be oblivious to the proper tradition and squeeze them instead
With you however he is very excited to be caught
Picks you up with a squeal and squeezes you tightly
His inner sadist loves how you squirm and gasp for breath
Also loves the redness of your face when you see the mistletoe
“Come here Shrimpy~ You owe me a squeeze~”
Thinking he wasn’t going to kiss you, you brace yourself for a squeeze
He does squeeze you but he kisses you too
Also bites your cheek lightly 
“There. Now everyone knows that Shrimpy is my mistletoe buddy, hehe”
Scarabia:
Kalim Al Asim:
Mistletoe everywhere
Literally is obsessed with hugging his friends and it gives him an excellent excuse to do so
He just didn’t count on you being there 
Not that he minds
Holds your face in his hands and peppers you with kisses
His brilliant smile is blinding afterwards
“Y/n! Y/n! Let’s go find some more mistletoe, kay?”
Jamil Viper:
Lowkey aware of the Mistletoe he just hasn’t had the chance to move Kalim away from it
Of course he has to chase Kalim through one of the doorways
Bumps into you
You’re surprised and go to move when you see the mistletoe
Flushes a deep red and has to take a moment to collect himself
Calmly he leans closer to you 
Kisses passionately but also nervously
Beet red when he pulls back and hides his face with his hood for the rest of the night
Pomefiore:
Vil Schoenheit: 
Will absolutely not kiss you with his lipstick on
Honey never
You can kiss his hand of course but that’s about it
What you don’t expect is that he will pay up later when he’s removed his lip makeup
Probably called you to his room after the day was done and pecked you on the lips
“There now I have fulfilled the tradition and don’t owe you anything
Also put chapstick on you beforehand
“That flavor suits you. Keep it.”
Rook Hunt:
Due to his hunter instincts and excellent observation skills he knows where every piece of mistletoe is hung
Likely guided you right underneath it without your knowledge
If you’re extra careful about them then he might just shoot another one up
“Did you put that there?” “Shhh, ma chérie."
Will kiss your cheeks, nose, and lips in that order
Calls you beautiful and asks you to spend some more time with him
Highkey Rook is the only one at NRC that knows what he’s doing with the ladies
Epel Felmier:
Epel has literally never kissed anyone in his life
There are rarely any people his age in his hometown either so he has little experience with dating or even dealing with anyone he’s interested
Finding himself under mistletoe with anyone would be terrifying nonetheless you
You!
You’re cute and sweet and kind and a lot of things
But most importantly you’re someone who he wants to kiss
Which means that you and him can not kiss under any circumstances
But here you are and here he is under the mistletoe
And know you have to kiss
The kiss was short and barely existent but it was sweet and when he pulled back his face was equal parts red and pale
You giggled and kissed his cheek
Ignihyde:
Idia Shroud:
Ok Idia is really shy
So it’s super unlikely he’s gonna end up anywhere with an actual mistletoe 
But Ortho dragged him out of his room so here he is
And now he’s under the mistletoe
With you…
And regretting all of his life choices
But he forgets all of that once your lips touch
He’s not cold like you thought he would be
He’s actually very hot
The kiss only lasts for a second because you were cut off by his hair turning red and flaming up
Ortho drags him back to his room where he resets enough to remember where he is
Once he figures out what happened he’s gonna flare up again
Poor Ortho has to spray the whole room with the fire extinguisher
Ortho Shroud (platonic):
Ortho is delighted at all the cool traditions and decorations that are strewn about the place
He spends Christmas with Idia of course but he finally managed to get him out of his room long enough to have a look around
There are some things that he doesn’t recognize like the dangling plant clippings that people are kissing under
When he finds himself under one with you he points to it and asks about it
You giggle and tell him before quickly kissing his cheek
The younger Shroud tells Idia afterwards and laughs at his older brother’s face
Idia is at least fond of your friendship with Ortho 
He thinks it’s fine that you told him about mistletoe as long as Ortho remembers to avoid it at all costs for the rest of his active life
Diasomnia:
Malleus Draconia:
Has no clue what mistletoe is
“Child of man what is this thing here?”
You flush and start to stammer about mistletoe
Cue Lilia popping in with a thorough explanation about of how mistletoe works and pays special attention to the fact that Malleus has to kiss you
The vampiric man takes his leave and smirks knowingly when you glare daggers into his back
Malleus stays silent for a moment before leaning down and kissing you
He is a surprisingly good kisser and you are too shocked to do anything
“Well then, I hope that the tradition was to your liking child of man.”
Would never admit that he is blushing and walks away quickly
Oh Malleus the tradition was very much to your liking
Lilia Vanrouge:
This man has been waiting for you to show up 
Highkey pops in just as you walk underneath the mistletoe
“Hello there”
Your mini heart attack means little to him as he giggles and points up
“Look mistletoe”
Then he kisses you
Experienced kisser and leaves you breathless
“We should do this again but right now I have to go deal with one of the, ahem, children” (Sebek)
Stunned you stand there for a moment before wondering what happened
“Um ok later then”
Yes he did here you and will take that as permission to kiss you again
Hi there if you are looking for Sebek and/or Silver I am very sorry to say that I don’t write for them just yet because I don’t know them all too well. Very sorry and hope the other headcanons were to your liking. Happy holidays!
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urmomsstuntdouble · 4 years ago
Note
89 for the writing promp game? 👀👀 whichever characters u feel like it fits
oof this took a while. wasn’t sure who to write it about, and i didnt use those exact words, but. yeah. here it is! 
(3rd person pov, lithuania x romano)
.
Nobody enjoyed world meetings. It was a known fact, and one regular humans would probably assume without knowing what transpired at such meetings- Which wasn’t much, in all honesty. And while they weren’t fun, they weren’t always bad. Sometimes they’d be in a nice city, and flights would line up with those of friends, and so forth- Today was not one of those days. 
Tolvydas had stumbled off their train at three o’clock in the morning, and into their hotel bed two hours later. Their body now ran on two hours of sleep, and the conditions of the meeting didn't do much to help them stay awake. Jackets and ties were folded over the backs of several chairs, and some of the other nations held small wooden fans in death grips. Some were slumped over, and others stayed at attention. Of the other Baltic states, Estonia had removed his glasses and Latvia was clearly more focussed on his smartphone than the presentation. Tolvydas couldn’t blame them. The heat of the room seemed a cage, pressing in on them and making sweat drip down their back. 
Why did the meeting have to be in Southern Europe? Tolvydas could handle the heat, but being trapped inside for an entire day- On which nothing tainted the pure azure of the sky- was a lot. A glance around told them they weren’t alone, as nearly every forehead shone with sweat. Every now and then, Tolvydas’ head touched their chest and they jerked back to attention. Their efforts were futile, though, and they’d yet to catch a single word of Paraguay’s speech. 
Someone tapped their shoulder- Feliks, sitting at their left. Tolvydas looked down at them, where they’d rested their head on crossed arms. 
“So bored,” they mouthed, and Tolvydas nodded. They shifted their notepad into Feliks’ line of sight and gouged the word TIRED into the paper. Feliks nodded with pink cheeks and drooping eyelids, and swiped the pen away from Tolvydas. Wish there was air conditioning. LORENZO DOESN’T BELIEVE IN AIR CONDITIONING. 
Feliks giggled at that, attracting the glares of some nearby nations. Pink cheeks turned red, and they sank down a bit in their seat, folding their arms. Tolvydas sighed, and rested their head in their hands. Would it be a good idea to tape their eyes open? No, and they didn’t have any tape…shame. Tolvydas tilted their head around, looking for the host nation. Lorenzo. Romano, or Italy- They hardly ever spoke of things related to their nationhood. In fact, they only spoke as a result of social happenstance, that being Feliciano’s friendship with Feliks, and the Italy brothers shared a car, and that Tolvydas had spent much of the 90s on Feliks’ couch. A coincidence Tolvydas was fond of, actually. It was rare that nations befriended each other purely for social reasons. Even Feliks came into their life for the sake of politics. 
Tolvydas looked around the room yet again, this time searching for Lorenzo. Would he be drowning in sweat too, they wondered? The answer seemed to be yes, and they bit back a smile upon seeing him. He sat hunched over the desk, with his suit jacket resting on the back of his chair. Dark circles lined both his armpits and eyes. As if cued by their staring, Lorenzo opened his water bottle and took four hearty gulps, then returned it, empty, to the desk. Tolvydas blinked, and wiped some sweat from their forehead. When they returned to their hotel room, they would get rid of all these clothes and lay on the bed with the windows open until they fell asleep. 
They shuffled their papers about, searching for the weekend’s itinerary. They gave their speech the day before, but about a hundred nations still had to take their turns…According to the schedule, today’s last presenter would be Qatar. So the meeting would be over by…seven, maybe? Tolvydas pushed some air through their lips and picked at a loose thread in their shirt sleeve. 
It wasn’t until about seven thirty that Qatar gave her presentation, and closing the meeting took another half hour. Once that was done, the nations milled about and spoke, as per their custom. Rare was it that they were allowed to be people- Tolvydas would never understand how people could say they ‘didn’t pay attention to politics.’ Paying attention to politics was all they could ever do. Then again, they were Lithuania, not a person. 
Fortunately, many of the nations elected to move outside after the meeting ended. They fit right in with the students, bustling around the university campus. Nations fragmented here, splitting off with friends or returning to their hotels. Most importantly, though, they were stopped by people asking to take selfies. Tolvydas smiled and laughed when required, and let themself be dragged around with the other EU members. 
“Where are we going?” Asked Feliks at their side, and they nodded, glancing around. Tolvydas wasn’t sure they recognized this city- They’d been to so many, it was hard to remember, and European cities started to look the same after a while. 
“Not sure,” said somebody- Hungary. “I think Vene said something about a bar? I wasn’t really paying attention.” She snorted like it was punctuation, and Feliks laughed. 
“Oh, Erzsi! Hey, I didn’t see you there!” Feliks launched himself at her, and was lucky that she reacted fast enough to catch him. 
“Hi, Erzsebet,” Tolvydas said, suppressing a laugh. 
“Hey, losers,” She said, arms clenched around Feliks’ waist. “Glad to see you here, that meeting was stuffy as hell.” 
“Ugh, I know, right?” Feliks said. They righted themself, walking independent of Erzsebet again. “I was practically dying of the heatstroke.” 
“I don’t think you can get heatstroke if you’re not in the sun,” Tolvydas said. 
“You can,” a voice chimed in- Spain. “Trust me, summers are brutal at my place. Hey, can I ask you a question, Lithuania?” Tolvydas glanced over their shoulder, as if there was some other Lithuania he could be talking to. 
“Uh, yes,” They said. 
“Do you have nude beaches in your country?” Tolvydas choked on their own spit, and let out a strangled chuckle. 
“Y-Yes,” They laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to ask something like that-”
“I was thinking about all the ways I’ve gotten heat stroke before,” Spain told them, holding his hands in front of his chest like a T-Rex.
“And one was at a nude beach?” 
“Well, yes…” He narrowed his eyes. “More than one, actually. I don’t like nude beaches, Lithuania, because if you’re not careful you can get sunburned…I mean, you can on a regular beach, but it’s so awkward to be, like, in front of your people and putting sunscreen on your entire body, you know? And I’m a country, so it’s a lot of attention, and all that…You know?” 
“Well,” Tolvydas said, “Not really, because I don’t get a lot of sun, but yeah, sort of.” They bit their lip- Since they’d been talking to Spain, they had totally lost track of where they were in the city. The university was out of sight, and Feliks was now absorbed into a conversation with Hungary and the other EU Slavs. 
“Hm. You are pretty pale.” Tolvydas tucked some hair behind their ear. 
“Yeah,” They said, not sure what else to say. 
“Yeah,” Spain murmured, eyes darting about the street. “Where are you taking us, Feli?” 
“What?!” Asked Italy. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, causing Finland to crash into him. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Finland.” Finland gave him a smile and assured him it was no problem. 
“I said, where are you taking us?” Spain shouted, “I don’t recognize this street.” 
“Umm, I actually forget?” Italy laughed, “My brother has a bar he likes that’s near here, but I don’t like it so I don’t remember what it’s called? And he’s busy now, so- Yeah. Oh, hi Lithuania! I didn't see you there, how’re you doing today?” Tolvydas started, eyes widening. 
“Hi,” They said, “I’m tired, but it’s alright. You have a lovely home.” 
“Thanks,” Italy said, “Though it’s really my brother’s, I…I don’t really like it that much down here, to be honest. Don’t tell him I said that. But it is nice to visit!” 
“Excuse you, it’s lovely here!” Spain said, “I’m telling on you, Feli.” 
“Don't!” Italy shrieked, “Please?” He turned to Spain with wide eyes. Even Tolvydas would have to oblige, and they had plenty of experience saying no to cute people. Well. Cute dogs. And Raivis. And Feliks, and Russia. Maybe they did have experience saying no to cute people after all. 
“I’m only joking,” Spain said, “Besides, Lithuania here agrees with me, don’t you?” 
“Uh,” Tolvydas said, “I do, yes. It’s- It’s a very nice climate you have here. And I like this street- Very, uh, very nice cobblestones.” Italy snorted, his hair falling into his eyes.
“Thanks, I’m glad you like them,” He said, though they weren’t his. Tolvydas hummed, and took a moment to really look at the street they were on. Buildings kept the sun from reaching them, but not the warmth. Storefronts beckoned here and there, with parked motorcycles at intersections and window boxes at second floor windows. Every so often they passed some graffiti, though most of it was nonsensical to Tolvydas. Not once did they see a street sign. If it weren’t for Lorenzo’s lead, Tolvydas would be completely lost. 
Finally, the group made it to the bar. It was a nice, quiet place- Tolvydas felt bad for the staff. They hoped nobody would get kicked out, though it was unlikely. Who was a nation, really, if they’d never been asked to leave a bar before? 
Tolvydas wound up sitting beside Spain, with Lorenzo on their other side. Neither spoke to them- Spain was discussing the art of bartending with Italy, and Lorenzo preferred glaring into his cocktail. Tolvydas wondered if they should talk to him- They’d only spoken a brief hello today, after all, and that was a formality. But he seemed annoyed, with his furrowed brow and crossed arms…And now he was looking at them. 
“Why are you looking at me?” Tolvydas sat a little straighter.
“Um. I, uh, I was wondering if it would be okay for me to talk to you,” They said, mouth dry. Lorenzo bit the corner of his lip, eyebrows raised. 
“Why wouldn’t it be?” 
“I don’t know, you looked, like, a bit irritated,” Tolvydas said, “S-Sorry.” 
“You’re right, I am,” Lorenzo said, “Fuckin’ hate hosting world meetings. There’s so many people who are just in my space, you know? And I didn’t even realize there were so many people following me when we were on the way here.” He lifted his cocktail. Black salt rimmed the glass, and Lorenzo licked some away. “Was talking to Belgium, got distracted. But she left to go back to her hotel, so. Anyway.” He hung his head between his shoulders. “That’s a bit much, I know.” 
“No,” Tolvydas said, “World meetings suck, whether you’re hosting or not…I don’t hate it but also there’s that invasion-y feeling.”
“Invasion-y feeling, yeah,” Lorenzo murmured, and licked more salt from the rim of his glass. “‘M tired.” 
“Me too,” Tolvydas said. “I need to bring hair ties tomorrow.” 
“That sounds useful,” Lorenzo mumbled. He took a slow drink of his cocktail, wincing at the end. “You don’t have anything to drink.” Tolvydas glanced down at the bar in front of them, and no, they didn’t. Huh, they hadn’t noticed. 
“I don't,” They said, and glanced over at the bartender. A young man with veiny forearms, chatting as he shook up a new drink. His hair was greased back into a pseudo helmet. 
“Giulio!” Lorenzo shouted, catching his attention. Giulio paused in his drink-making and glanced back, then nodded and went on with his business. “He’ll get you in a second.”
“Thanks,” Tolvydas murmured, “I could’ve waited.” 
“Yeah, but you’re talking to me right now,” Lorenzo said. He sipped his drink again. “And I don’t want to talk to you when I’m drinking and you’re not. Then it’s not equal.” 
“Fair enough,” Tolvydas said, “I can just shut up if you want me to-”
“No, we’re talking now,” Lorenzo said, “I want to talk. And it’s my country, so…yeah.” He took a drink. 
“I think it’s nice here,” Tolvydas said, “Very warm.” Lorenzo hummed, then glanced up- Giulio stood at the ready, finished with his previous drink. He exchanged some words with Lorenzo, who turned to Tolvydas after a moment. 
“What do you want?” 
“Um- Could I please have a krambambula?” Lorenzo relayed the message, and Giulio was up to drink-mixing. 
“What’s a krambambula?” Lorenzo mused, peering over the bar. 
“Wine and vodka,” Tolvydas responded, “Belarus’ favorite.” Lorenzo hummed.
“Didn’t you used to be married to her or something?” Tolvydas bowed their head, letting hair fall in front of their eyes. “So you did, huh?” 
“Y-Yes,” Tolvydas stammered, “Briefly, a hundred years ago-”
“She good in bed?” 
“What?” Their cheeks grew warm, too warm for it to simply be the heat. “No- I mean- I don’t know, see-” 
“Hey, calm down, I’m just making conversation.” Lorenzo waved a hand, “It’s none of my business, I know.” 
“We, um. Never slept together,” Tolvydas said, “She doesn’t like me very much, actually.” 
“Oh. That’s a shame,” Lorenzo said, and Tolvydas nodded, though they weren't sure what the shame actually was. A shame they never slept together? Maybe- Since she didn’t reciprocate their feelings, it was hard to really fantasize. They could daydream about kissing her all they wanted, but they’d still know that acting on it would be assault. So their feelings were in the process of fading away. A shame she didn’t like them very much? Eh, they would get over it. Eventually, maybe. They had time. 
Giulio returned with their drink. 
“Can I have a taste?” Lorenzo asked, “Never tried that before.” 
“Of course,” Tolvydas said, and handed him the glass. He took a sip, and struggled to keep his face from contorting in disgust. “You don't like vodka?” Tolvydas asked, taking a swig.  
“Shit’s nasty,” Lorenzo said, “Tastes like sadness. And like, we’ve all got issues or whatever, but mine aren’t so bad I need to drink vodka.” Tolvydas snorted. 
“Okay. Lightweight.” 
“Lightweight?!” 
“Yeah, vodka’s like 95% alcohol volume.” 
“Psh, whatever.” Lorenzo scoffed, and Tolvydas giggled at the sheer nonsense of it. “Why are you laughing at me?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair. 
“Psh, whatever?” They repeated, “That doesn’t even make sense.” 
“It does so,” He said, “You’re too small-brained to get it.” That stung a bit, but Tolvydas didn't mind. They understood it was a joke, though they didn’t appreciate it any more for understanding. 
“Whatever,” They said, looking away. Their eyes naturally picked Feliks out of the group- He sat on the bar, legs crossed, with a glass of wine held in both hands. He’d unbuttoned his shirt to the third button. Tolvydas shook their head- It wouldn’t be very long before they were completely drunk. 
“I hope Feliks doesn’t overdo it,” They thought. 
“Probably will. They look like they’d be wasted after two glasses of wine,” Lorenzo commented. Tolvydas jolted- They hadn't realized they were speaking aloud. 
“They’re- Yeah,” Tolvydas said, “They like parties, always have, but they get drunk too fast to enjoy it.” 
“Maybe that’s why they like parties so much. ‘Cause they don’t remember what one’s like, from all the drinking,” Lorenzo said, “Toni’s like that, sort of.” Tolvydas hummed, and swirled their drink around in the glass. 
“I don’t think such heavy drinking is a sign that one likes parties,” They murmured, “After all, if you like doing something, wouldn’t you want to experience as much of it as you can?” Lorenzo scoffed, and they turned their head to look at him. His arm was thrown around the back of his chair, with his chest out and facing them. Sweat still clung to his forehead- It was less oppressively hot in this bar than the meeting room, but only just. 
“Part of the allure of drinking is that it can make you forget about things,” He said, “Happy people don’t develop alcohol issues. And, you know, for people like us, it’s different, seeing as how we can’t fucking die.” Tolvydas shrugged in response. They shifted in their seat, feeling the cheap leather through their pants, and took another sip of their drink. Lorenzo was correct in that one liked to drink to forget. For people like them, there were virtually no downsides, save whatever you did while you were drinking. Once, Tolvydas had set a cow on fire and didn’t find out until the next morning when, in the clutches of a hangover, they were arrested. 
“I guess,” They said. Then, mind caught on the cow-arson, “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Lorenzo sucked air in through his teeth. 
“Done too much stupid shit to tell you off the top of my head,” He admitted, “But, uh, this one time, I drank up a town’s entire supply of wine. Bad move. Had to regrow my kidney.” Tolvydas winced, a bit less inclined to finish their drink. 
“That sounds painful.”
“Yeah,” Lorenzo said, “Much like hosting the fucking world meetings.” Hosting the world meetings was terrible- It was a constant headache to have so many other nations around you, especially if it was in your capital city. Tolvydas had never had maggots in a wound before, but they imagined that was what it felt like. 
“Oh, I know,” They said. It was a good thing they all shared the burden of hosting the meetings. Locations cycled through nations, such that Lithuania wouldn’t be the host country for another ten years- They’d still have to do smaller meetings, of course, like the EU and UN and such, but at least it wasn’t a world meeting. Over two hundred nations in the same city could make even the humans feel a bit off. 
“I’d be better if all you people hadn’t- hadn’t fucking followed me here. I mean- I didn’t want my idiot brother to invite the entire goddamn continent.”
“I’m sorry,” Tolvydas said, “I was just going with everyone else-”
“I don’t- You know, actually, I need to continue this conversation outside,” Lorenzo said, and stood up. He said a few words to Giulio and turned around, making for the door. Tolvydas’ skin pricked- What had they done wrong? It was just a simple conversation- But of course they’d manage to screw it up. They remained on the edge of their seat, with their eyes fixed on Lorenzo, as he walked out of the bar. As he got to the door, they stood. Should they apologise? Or- Or did Lorenzo want to fight them now? They pushed away the idea, knowing it was all probably fine. 
Tolvydas pulled out their wallet, and left a few euros beside their drink. They followed Lorenzo outside, stumbling when they left the bar. The moon had risen while they were in the bar. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in silver light save the faint glow of a lit cigarette. Tolvydas swallowed. While it was dark outside, the heat from the day had yet to evaporate. Tolvydas speculated that if they were to touch Lorenzo’s skin, he’d be as warm as if he were sunbathing. Right, Lorenzo- They were not here to stare at him. 
“Are you okay?” Lorenzo jumped, turning around with wide eyes. His shoulders sagged when he saw them.
“Yeah,” He mumbled, “Just fuckin’ tired. Want to go home.” 
“Oh,” Tolydas said, “Sorry then, I’ll- I’ll fuck off now.” They turned away, poised to return to the bar. 
“No,” Lorenzo said, then bit his lips. “I mean-” He put his cigarette between his lips and took a long drag. He looked hollow for a moment before he turned his head and blew a ring with the smoke. “You smoke?”
“Uh, no, not really…not anymore.” 
Lorenzo hummed. “Shame. I could teach you how to blow rings, if you did.” 
“You still can,” Tolvydas said, voice paper-thin, “If you want. And if I could borrow a cigarette. World meetings are hard on the rest of us too.” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out from his back pocket. 
“Ah, but you’re not the host, Lithuania. And you represent your entire country.” 
“You can call me Tolvydas,” They said, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” 
“I just offered to teach you how to blow smoke rings. I don’t do that with everyone you know,” Lorenzo said, “Maybe I’m still fucked up from the meeting…But okay, sure. Tolvydas.” 
“Thanks,” They muttered, “Also yeah, sorry about your. Brother.” Lorenzo shrugged, and took another drag. 
“I don't want to think about him right now…No, I want to go home…” He bit his lip, and swayed from side to side. Was he alright? Tolvydas ran through a list of all the little things they knew to do if a nation was sick. Lorenzo coughed, and they twitched, hands reaching out for him. Instead of falling or even stumbling, Lorenzo put his cigarette to his lips another time. His cheeks shone in the orange glow. When he was done, he ground the butt under his heel. Three smoke rings floated away from his mouth. 
“I’m gonna go get drunk at home now…You can come if you want.” He turned on his heel, reducing the cigarette butt into a stain of ash. He had a nice gait, Tolvydas thought. A medium sized stride, and they couldn't help but notice the sway of his hips…
Several short and fast steps later, Tolvydas was by his side. 
song lyric asks
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itsunclebucky · 5 years ago
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You’re Mine
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x Reader
Requested by @rebelfleur22​ -  Okay reader (me 😂 i wish) and bucky  were dating for a long time but they broke up due to the fact that they grew apart but they still love each other, so at one of Tony's parties, bucky brings his new girlfriend to finally meet the Avengers and secretly annoy & make his ex jealous 😂 unknown to bucky his new girlfriend is a huge fan of reader (which she's also an avenger with super powers) and super nervous to meet her. So the guys are convincing the reader to be nice to her which eventually agrees even though she's still loves bucky. Can i please request one more thing 🙏🏻 i want it to be angsty with some sassy reader and if you don't mind having a smutty ending?
Warnings: Lots of angst, insults, argument, sassy reader, fluff, SMUT 18+ Oral sex (female receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, language, reconciliation. 
Word Count: 4457
A/N: Thank you so much for the request my love!!! I really hope you like it. I really can’t feel my fingers but it’s so worth it!!! There are references to One Tree Hill, the dance part was inspired by a clip from the vampire diaries and the argument was heavily inspired by an episode of Friends. Hope you enjoy :)
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Bucky saw you smile a lot more these days and it broke his heart because he couldn't remember the last time you smiled as brightly as you did. 
You and Bucky had been in a very serious long term relationship. A relationship that was full of love, passion, trust but in the end, distance. You grew apart and decided it was better to remain friends than in a distant relationship with each other. 
Bucky still loved you very much. He loved you with every fiber of his body. He would never tell you, but when he started sleeping alone in his bed at night, the nightmares would return more frequently. And he would never tell you how many mornings he spent crouched down on the shower floor crying until his chest was physically hurting. 
And it's been 5 months since the breakup. He needed someone else to fill the void that was in his chest. He needed someone to love him again. And he thought his new girl Sima would be perfect. 
She was perfect. With her beautiful long curly blonde hair, her natural eyelashes, her flawless figure. A girl who looked after her nails and spent hours at the hair salon bleaching her hair. 
There was just a small problem. Sima might have been a gorgeous woman, but she wasn't you. 
It hurt more because though you both agreed on staying friends, you rarely talked to each other. He also noticed you had stopped following him on Instagram and though that burnt a hole in his chest, he couldn't find it in him to bring it up simply because it seemed so petty. 
But truthfully, the only reason you did was because of his happy posts and selfies on him smiling, the smile you didn't see on his face for a long time. Seeing Bucky so happy and thriving without you, it killed you from the inside out.
Each day, you had to force a smile on your face just so the team wouldn't worry about how you were coping with the breakup. Everyone knew how close you and Bucky were, how in love you were. And if they paid close attention, they would see the dark circles under your eyes. You were not coping well at all. 
You missed him and you still loved him, so very much. Each morning you would find yourself curled up into a ball on the side he used to sleep, cradling his pillow in your arms. You refused to wash the pillowcase since you could still smell the scent of his apple shampoo on it.
But it was all in the past, and you knew if you cried a river it wasn't going to bring you and Bucky back together. 
You were sat on the bar stool with your fingers wrapped around your hot cup of freshly made coffee talking to Steve about Tony's upcoming extravagant party.
"Do you really think he will invite lots of people this time?" You asked, nervously biting your lip. 
Steve shrugged and looked over his newspaper. "It's Tony." You nodded in agreement. 
"Hey Steve." Bucky greeted as he walked in. His white shirt pulled tightly across his muscles. 
"Good morning Buck." Steve greeted back but eyeing the two of you suspiciously. 
"Oh Buck. Thank you for wishing me a good morning." You said with sarcasm laced in your voice, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. "I'm so miserable without you here it's almost as if you are here." 
"And thank fuck for that." He replied almost instantly with an eye roll. 
You scoffed, amused and sipped your coffee. 
"Hey Steve." Bucky started, getting his attention. "Have you ever looked at your ex and wondered if you were drunk the entire relationship?" Bucky smirked. 
"Ha ha. Well you know what they say. If you're happy, thank your ex. At least I don't have to put up your excessive grunting when you're on top of me." 
"Y/N!" Steve warned. 
"Fuck you, you crazy bitch." Bucky scowled, hurrying up with making his coffee so he could leave. 
"That's enough you two!" Steve intervened, sensing an argument about to break out soon. 
"She started it." Bucky accused. 
"She started it." You mocked, angering Bucky more. 
"You know what Y/N. I'm fucking glad we broke up. You talk about my grunting, but you know what I'm grateful for? Not having to taste your disgusting fucking pussy and having to stick my cock in it anymore." 
"Oh yeah." You chuckled, standing up to follow Bucky into the common room where the rest of the avengers were seated on the large couches in the room. "I'm grateful for not having to fake my orgasms anymore and not having your disgusting shit smelling breath in my face." You barked back. 
"Ohhhh oh oh." Sam cackled from the couch, and immediately dipped his head when Bucky glared at him. Daring him to continue what he was going to say. 
"That makes two of us you arrogant bitch and if my breath was bad, it's only because of where my mouth was moments before I was on top of you. Oh and hey. Forgot to tell you, saw something that reminded me of you today. But then I flushed it and left the bathroom." Bucky clicked his tongue as he took a seat next to Wanda. 
You kept your facade up. Not wanting your friends to see what his words do to you. And you realized he called you a bitch twice. 
You stomped towards the door and stopped to turn around a final time. Bucky's eyebrows raised waiting for your final blow. 
"And just so you know. It's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy and it IS A BIG DEAL!" You yelled, walking out of the common room and heading towards your room. 
In the distance, you heard Sam laugh and mock Bucky with a "I knew it old man!" 
You should have been delighted. You kicked him whilst he was down, but you didn't feel proud. The insults you threw at each other were harsh and you knew it. And you wondered if he meant everything he said. He probably did, right? If he didn't hate you before, he surely does now. 
Bucky sat on the couch bewildered. He wondered where this sudden argument came from but he knew it was your way of coping with the hurt. Because it was what you did best, to hide your true feelings, you would become this sassy little brat and he hated it, he hated your attitude. 
He was more shell shocked by the last insult you threw at him. It happened just once, he was really tired but he wanted to have sex. It didn't matter how hard you massaged his cock through his pants, he still couldn't get hard. You had told him it didn't matter, that he just needed a good night sleep and you could try the following night. 
He never once expected you to bring it up and use it against him. It was private, and he was pissed because you had said that in front of his friends and teammates. 
Bucky ignored the snickers around him. His phone buzzed in his pant pocket and he pulled it out, his face slightly lighting up when it was a text from Sima.
Sima: I'm outside. Are you ready to go shopping with me? ❤
Bucky quickly typed a reply back. 
Bucky: hi baby. Yes, give me a few minutes.
He left the heart out. He felt weird adding emojis to Sima's texts because his heart emojis were reserved for you only. 
Bucky quickly excused himself. Taking his cup to the kitchen and going to his room to throw on a jacket and give his teeth a quick brush. He then left the compound without saying goodbye to anyone.
He needed a suit for tonight's party. Tonight would also be the night he would introduce Sima to the team, to you. He was nervous and scared. He was scared about his conflicted feelings. 
You sat in your room alone, your back against the headboard staring at the wall in front of you. 
You were honestly not looking forward to the party tonight. Natasha had told you days ago she would stop by your room to give you one of her dresses and Wanda would come along to do your makeup and curl your hair. 
It was a futile attempt to try and get out of the party since Tony had made it clear you could be excused only if you died. Meaning, he was putting a lot of money into this party and it was mandatory that every single avenger in the compound had to be there, no ifs and no buts. 
Tony wasn't even a little bit sympathetic about your breakup. You recalled him saying "at least you'll find a real man now kid." 
Bucky was more than a man though. He was your light in the darkness of days. He cuddled your body close to his when you were sad for no reason. He was never cruel towards anyone. You believed he loved you as much as you loved him. But with his cruel words replaying themselves in the back of your mind, you begin to wonder about that like many other things.
You've been called a bitch many times in your life. Witch, weirdo, freak were among the list of names people had for you. 
You once had beautiful naturally brown hair. Until you absorbed a portion of Thanos's force, and over time it turned your hair completely white. The only thing stopping you from having a breakdown down was the fact Bucky really liked your beautiful hair. He said you reminded him of Khaleesi from his favorite TV show Game of Thrones. And when you styled it. Oh my God. Bucky was a goner. 
You curled up once again on the side he used to sleep. Cuddling his pillow against your chest as tear drops escaped. You sniffled once, and then the dam broke. 
You broke out into small sobs. Your eyes screwed shut tight. 
"I miss you Bucky." You cried out into your empty room. Those words repeatedly falling from your lips. You stayed like that until there was a brisk knock at the door. You peeled open your eyes opened and you were now shrouded in complete darkness. 
What time was it? The pillow was soaking wet from your tears and mucus. But you didn't care. 
The knock sounded again and you groaned.
"Come in." You yelled. The door opened and the light was turned on. You instinctively shielded your eyes from the sudden brightness. 
"Were you asleep?" Wanda's thick accent entered your ears. 
"No I was fucking skiing." You replied sarcastically, hiding your face in his pillow. 
"With Bucky's pillow?" Natasha snipped with a smirk. "Come on girl. Get up, we gotta get dressed and get down to Tony's party. So, up, up, up!" 
You groaned but pulled yourself up nonetheless. Natasha hung a dress on the hanger that was hanging from the little knobs on your closet doors. 
"Get showered." Natasha ordered and you didn't bother to fight her. You couldn't. You were just too exhausted emotionally. 
*************************************************
Bucky was standing in the corner of the party with Sima on his arm talking to Steve. The elevator doors dinged open and everyone's eyes were drawn to the three women who stepped out in linked arms. 
Natasha, Wanda and you. 
You were breathtaking in your gorgeous tight white dress. Your white hair curled to halfway down your back, and your minimal makeup really worked together. You looked exactly how he imagined you would on the day he would eventually marry you. 
"Oh my God. Is that Y/N???!" Sima asked Bucky, her eyes wide. Sima was a huge fan of yours. She saw what you could do with your powers. She was there to witness what you did to Thanos before he snapped his fingers. Sima admits you, and hoped one day you would be friends. But giving the current circumstances, she knew that was never possible. 
"Yes." Bucky sighed. Then an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. "Wanna meet her?" He winked and grabbed a hold of Sima's hand as they walked through the crowd towards you. 
Your face dropped considerably when you saw Bucky. Hand in hand with another woman. You recognized her as another avenger, on a different team. Your breath hitched when you saw how Bucky looked tonight. A tight all black suit, his hair slicked back into a tight man bun with that beautiful stubble on his face. 
"Good evening Y/L/N." Bucky greeted with no emotion on his face. "This is Sima, my girlfriend." 
The blonde girl reached her hand out for you to shake but you couldn't register anything that was going on around you. 
"Oh my gosh. It's such an honor to finally meet you." She grinned so excitedly but you just stared forward. Forcing one of your fake smiles on your face. 
"Ditto." You kept your hands by your side and Bucky was annoyed by your rudeness. Sima awkwardly retracted her hand and adjusted a bobby pin in her hair to hide her embarrassment. 
"Y/N. Sima was just-" 
"Excuse me." You cut Bucky off. Marching towards Natasha and hauling her to the nearest empty room. 
"What is going on?" Natasha asked, folding her arms across her chest. 
You scoffed and paced the room. Your heels click-clacked against the stone floors. 
"I CAN NOT believe it!" Your hands flew through your curls and tugged at the ends. 
"What? What are you talking about Y/N?" Natasha pressed. 
"That WHORE STOLE MY MAN. She's out there right now. Hanging from his arm like a fucking lazy sloth. Oh God have they fucked yet?!" 
"So? Y/N. It's been 5 months. Bucky is allowed to move on and so are you. I hate to break it to you honey but he's not your man anymore." 
"I don't want anyone else to have him and I know what you're gonna say. I know I'm being selfish but… it kills me Nat. He's killing me." 
"You still love him." Natasha stated more than asked. A nod of your head confirmed what she already knew. "Then babe if you really love him-" 
"Don't tell me to let him go because that could never happen." You deadpanned. 
"I was going to say - if you really love him. Go and get him before his relationship with what's-her-face gets too serious." 
Natasha was right. But dread filled you. After the words exchanged between you and Buck earlier, there was no way on this planet he would ever feel the same way about you again. 
Right? Wrong. When you stormed off with Natasha, Bucky had excused himself to see what was going on. He stopped outside the door and listened. He heard every word. 
He couldn't believe you still loved him. And he knew if the tables were switched and it was you here with another man, he would feel exactly the same way. 
But Sima. Oh God. What was he going to do about Sima. She seemed to already understand the war he was having in his mind. About making people happy, about doing what is right. Sima knew he loved you still, when they were together he would talk about you a lot and he wouldn't even realize. To save him the hurt, Sima walked up to him and hugged him tightly. 
"It's okay Bucky. Go get her. I just hope we can stay friends." She said in his ear and he hugged her tighter. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Hey, hey." Sima cupped his stubbed face and smiled. "You love her and you were right for each other." Bucky nodded with a small smile. They embraced for the last night and Sima decided to leave the party. 
Now all Bucky had to do was wait for you to come out from the room. And once you did, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you walked back into the party. Only to be grabbed to your wrist and your body colliding with someone. 
“Buck-let me go.” You scoffed, trying to break free. 
“Come on doll. Just one dance.” He smirked down at you. His hands holding onto your waist as you danced together. His cologne was intoxicating, but it was your favorite. “How are you?”
You scoffed once again and rolled your eyes. “Where is Sima?”
“Broke up amicably.” 
“Why?” Your brows furrowed. They seemed very happy together at the beginning of the party.
“That’s none of your business doll.” 
“Oh come on Buck. Don’t be an asshole. I’m not in the mood.”
“What are you in the mood for, pretty lady?” He flirted and you were confused. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Thor wasn’t at the party so it wasn’t the mead that was making him talk like this. 
Could be his hard dick that you found yourself brushing up against accidentally as you were dancing. 
“Hmm, let’s see. Sleeping naked on top of the covers.” You decided two could play this game. 
“That was my favorite.” He twirled you around and pulled you back against his chest and grounded his erected clothed cock into your ass. A gasp fell from your lips as you grinded slightly into him. 
“God, you’re so hard.” 
“Mmmm. And I’m bettin’ you’re soaking wet.” 
*************************************************
Your back hit the mattress with a loud grunt as Bucky hungrily crawled on top of you. Nibbling the sensitive skin on your pulse point and pulling your dress from your shoulders. 
Bucky traced his soft lips from your neck to your jawline and down your throat. Nipping and biting the skin before continuing his path down between the valley of your breasts. 
He took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the erected bud and sucking it between his lips. His touch sent electrifying bolts through your body and your arousal was pooling in your panties.
You missed his touch. His lips on yours. It’s been 5 months since you’ve felt him and though you wished you could take your time with him, you were just far too horny for the slow and sensual sex. 
“Bucky please.” You begged, pushing his head further down your body. Bucky chuckled against your skin as his fingers hooked on your dress and pulled it down as he ventured more south. 
“Please what, doll?” He teased, kissing above your navel area before sinking down on the floor and pulling your dress completely off. Leaving you in just your white laced panties. 
“Don’t be a cocky fuckin’ bastard. I haven’t had sex in months and I need you.” You huffed impatiently. He was still chuckling against your skin and you were close to telling him to forget it. 
And you would have if it wasn’t for him pulling your panties down finally and growling at the evident arousal seeping through your lips.
“Jesus Christ baby. Got my mouth waterin’ here.” His large hands opened you up before him, his thumbs opened your lips as he ran his tongue from your warm soft clit down to your seeping entrance. The beautiful feeling of his warm delicious tongue caused you to clench around nothing. And Bucky absolutely loved watching your desperate hole contract.
His lips enclosed around your clit. His tongue swirling around the bundle. Your back arched off the bed and your heels dug into his shoulder blades as he ate you out like a starving man. 
The sinful sounds of your wetness against his mouth and his groaning were pornographic and you thrived off of it. You were so horny that it didn’t take you too long to reach the peak. And when you were close, you were a squirming mess trying to writher out of his strong grip. 
“BUCK!” You screamed loudly, your hands locked in his hair as your hips went flush against his mouth. He licked your clit with the pressure you liked. Driving you absolutely insane with need. A final lick and you were gone. Your hips jerked forward when he continued to lick from the intense orgasm and he drank every single drop that oozed out from your entrance. He watched it with great interest as it ran down between your butt cheeks to your puckered hole. 
Bucky groaned in delight as he pulled away from you. Looking down through your hooded eyes, your arousal soaked his stubble and cheek. You didn’t even realize you had squirted. You were embarrassed, but Bucky seemed to love it.
“You’re too dressed Buck.” You smirked and kept your legs opened.
“That I am.”
You sat up on your forearms and watched him undress himself. Throwing his clothes in all corners of the room. He climbed up on the bed and kneeled between your opened legs. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked on his knees to the top of the bed and laid you down on the pillow you used to sleep on. 
Bucky hooked your legs with his forearms and leaned forward. He teased your waiting cunt with the tip of his cock. 
“Doll, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.” Bucky moaned as he watched his cock gather up your juices. 
“It’s been months for me Buck.” You closed your eyes and whimpered each time his tip skimmed over your tingling clit. “Please fuck me Buck.”
Something in him changed. His eyes turned from blue to a dark brown/black. His engorged tip prodded against your entrance and then he slid home. Both of you moaning at the familiarity of him filling you up. His pubic bone bumped against your clit, causing your cunt to clench around him. 
“Doll. I won’t last if you keep doin’ that.” He warned through gritted teeth. You loved how he was losing control already. And to be honest, so were you. 
Your insides were tingling as your walls hugged his hot cock tightly. It was almost like a welcome home hug, we’ve missed you. 
“Good. I don’t want you to make love to me Buck. I want you to fuck me! Hard and fast. Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy and just do it!” Your arms curled around his shoulders and he growled as he sat back and perched your legs on top of his shoulders. 
“You and your fuckin’ attitude. You want it hard and fast? You fuckin’ got it.” And with that, he snapped his hips into you with a fast and brutal pace. His balls playing ping-pong against the skin of your ass and the position you were in meant he easily grazed your fucking G-spot perfectly. So perfectly that your cunt was permanently clenched around him. Your thick white slick gathered on his pubic bone. He rocked the bed harshly, the brass headboard knocking against the wall behind you and the mattress squeaking under your weight. 
“Yes Buck! Come on baby just like that! Don’t stop.” You begged. Your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you felt the tension rising in your tummy. “Fuck yes Buck. I’m so fucking close. Please don’t stop. Harder!” 
And harder he went. The consistent rhythmic knocking of the headboard and skin on skin rang in your ears. Bucky angled his hips slightly and that was it. That was where your spot was and he hit it. Every. Single. Thrust. 
“OH MY GODDDDD!!!” You screamed so loud that your voice cracked painfully. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as your hands massaged your breasts and pinched your nipples. “I’M CUMMING!” You announced. Not that it was necessary. Bucky could feel you were close and he went faster. A few more final hard thrusts and you were coming undone all over his cock. Your juices sprayed over his tummy and he moaned so fucking loudly you could have cummed again just from the erotic sound. Bucky was right behind you, spilling his hot cum deep in your tummy. You were both spent, looking at each other with love in your eyes and no signs of regret. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled out and you winced at the loss of contact. He walked in the bathroom and you heard the water running. A few moments later, he reappeared. His half-hard cock bobbing with every move he made. 
“I’m running a bath for us.” He said sweetly, placing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and reached your hand out to stroke his cheek. 
“I’ve missed you.” You said truthfully. “I cried every night for you.”
“Oh doll. I’ve missed you too. And I’m never fuckin’ lettin’ you go again either.”
“I hope not.”
“You’re mine.” He dominantly said and you chuckled a little. “Don’t ruin the moment.” He warned and you chuckled again.
“Yes Sergeant.” You went to sit up and hiss. The ache in your groin was starting to catch up to you now. “Okay maybe you were too hard.”
Now it was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “I’m always hard doll.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I meant the sex.” 
“Well, you were yelling at me to fuck you hard and fast.” He shrugged.
“Just… take me to the bath please.” You playfully hit his shoulder. 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
“Buck?” You mumbled into his neck as he carried you to the bathroom bridal style. Bucky hummed in response and you continued. “We’re back together, right?” 
Bucky sat you in the tub. The temperature of the water was just perfect and it immediately helped your aching muscles. Bucky climbed in behind you. His legs raised and he pulled you back in between them. Your back rested against his chest as he gathered bubbles on your tummy. 
“Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly Y/N. I said you were mine and I’m not letting you go again. So yes, we’re back together.”
Tags: @criminal-cookies​ @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​
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saint-eridell · 5 years ago
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7:41 AM | Deku/F!reader fluffsmut
By demand of @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​, here’s a oneshot I wrote months ago while on an AU spree. Unbeta’d, I just wanted to put something up for people here to read. c:
8.3k, no major content warnings (aside from the possibility of dental work once your teeth start falling out from the fluff). All characters are in their early twenties.
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It’s an exceedingly rare occasion when you and Izuku have the same day off. It’s such an uncommon thing that you can’t remember the last time it happened. When you peek over at the alarm clock next to your bed, you immediately smile - the green-faced display says it’s 7:41, a new record for Longest Morning Cuddle. You resolve yourself to keep the streak going as long as possible as you tuck an elbow under your pillow and consider dozing off again.
Something moves in the corner of your vision - an arm, your still mostly asleep brain registers - and drapes itself over your waist. A strong hand flattens itself over your midsection as an equally solid body tucks itself against your back. Izuku groans quietly, clearly still sound asleep. You chuckle quietly and curl back into him. “Good morning,” you whisper to test the waters.
You feel a set of lips curl into a smile against the back of your neck. “Morning,” he murmurs back, rough and gravelly with fatigue. Was he even awake yet? You’d seen him essentially sleepwalk to the coffee maker in the kitchen plenty of times; talking in his sleep is more than plausible. He settles again with a sigh that brushes over your neck and the back of your ear, and you can’t help but quietly laugh to yourself. Yep. Definitely still asleep, then.
Not that it matters in the slightest. The sun has only barely begun to light up the blinds that cover the bedroom windows. If he wants to sleep in, you’ll be the last one to stop him. Izuku never took time for himself anymore; between everything that Deku required of him and the constant training it took to keep up with the top spot, there wasn’t much left for the man behind the suit. Izuku’s the one in your bed, not the superhero he is during the day, and that means he doesn’t owe anyone shit for once. The fact that you have even a tiny bit to do with this makes you more than a little happy.
The hand not pushed under your pillow traces idle lines up and down his forearm, careful to not linger on any rough spots or seams. You’ve yet to work up the nerve to ask about the marks that cover his body, despite things being consistent between you for several months. It just doesn’t feel right to ask about. When Izuku wants to talk about it, he’ll say so… right?
Your nails circle the top of his wrist, then trail over the back of his hand. He picks his hand up and slides your fingertips between his knuckles before you can drift back up his arm, your fingers interlocked when he tucks them under your chin. You smile again, halfway obscured by your pillow, your conundrum momentarily forgotten. “Sneaky,” you murmur.
You feel him chuckle against the back of your neck, the soft breath that he huffs out enough to have the hair on the base of your scalp standing on end. “Observant,” he replies quietly, his voice rough from a night of sleeping like a boulder. “You turned your alarms off.”
“So did you,” you point out.
Izuku shrugs. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” He’s beginning to sound a little more lucid, but his arm is still a heavy weight over your side and his frame sags into you like a weighted blanket. It’s entirely too early for him to be doubting himself, and you’re far too comfortable to even flirt with the idea of him running off.
You roll your eyes. “From getting cold,” you jab back. “You’re not going anywhere, so don’t get any funny ideas.”
His smile widens against your neck. “Funny ideas?” he asks back, his sleepy but earnest tone juxtaposed against the teeth you can feel brushing against your hairline. Even while mostly asleep, Izuku can still play the Boy Scout card like an absolute bastard. “I dunno what you mean.” You glance back toward him out of the corner of your eye, and even if he’s out of direct sight for you he’s close enough to see you looking because he immediately noses behind your ear. “What, don’t trust me?” he pouts.
You tilt your head and give him more room to nuzzle against your neck. “With my life,” you reply honestly. “But you’re a shitty liar when you’re fully cognizant and trying your hardest.”
Izuku laughs, a low sound that rumbles through you from behind and lingers under your skin as he pulls you closer. “I’m as innocent as a church mouse,” he murmurs back, mirth dripping through the mock innocence. He lets go of your hand, his index finger tracing down the hollow of your throat. “What would make you think otherwise?”
You have a hunch. You curve your back into his chest, and are rewarded with a half-hard but definitely interested shaft pressed to your backside. He lets out a quiet noise somewhere between a squeak and a groan and reciprocates the movement. “Nn- now that is entirely on you.”
You smile into your pillow. “No, that was you.” You grind against him again, slotting him between your cheeks for more contact. “This is me.” His hand immediately closes around your hip and pulls you in closer, his own hips returning the motion with enthusiasm. “Still feeling innocent?”
His lips brush over the side of your neck, not enough to make direct contact but enough to have you shivering on the spot. The huff he lets out ghosts over your loose tee shirt collar. “Why, you wanna corrupt me?” he asked back. The hand on your hip lets go, returning to palm the round curve of your ass. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped to a low rumble that sinks directly into your bones and renders them down to gelatin in mere seconds. “Because I could be convinced to lay still with the right offer.”
Bastard. That purr. Memories of the things he’s poured into your ears using that voice have gotten you through many a multi-day mission. He knows what it does to you, just like he’s perfectly aware that his shy act is precisely that - a pretense, an amusing yet convenient wall to keep all but the most intimately familiar of people out. And to top it off with a shiny bow, Izuku can weaponize it at the drop of a hat. He’s a clever, quick-witted bastard and the realization that he’s really the one lying behind you, baiting his obscenity with honey and only letting you get a taste, has a happy bubble of warmth blooming in your chest.
The absolute bastard.
He catches you off guard by pressing a kiss just behind your ear. He places another just below it and continues downward as you squirm against the hand gripped to your ass. “Thought you were gonna show off,” you point out, very aware of how warm the skin under your shirt collar is getting as he approaches your shoulder with the edges of his teeth.
He tilts his head far enough to catch your eye. He’s sitting up on an elbow that’s planted behind your head, dark teal eyes fixated on you with only traces of the fatigue that had dragged him down earlier. “Thought you were gonna convince me to,” he purrs back, a sharp edge peering through his smile.
That’s enough of a hint for you. You turn onto your back and grab him by the chin, his smile only widening as you pull him down and seal your mouths together with a hungry noise. He shifts to kneel between your spread knees without argument, draping them around his hips.The kiss gets progressively needier as you both shake what remains of your sleepiness, tongues more grappling than dancing by the time you separate for a desperately needed breath.
It takes you an extra second. The window behind your headboard has lit up enough to allow soft golden light to filter through, the rays illuminating only the longest curls that stick out of his head. His cheeks are flushed a bright pink under a spray of freckles that stand out in sharp relief, as is his heavily shifting chest as he stares down at you with wet, parted lips. The scars that cover every part of him you can see stand out like his freckles, stripes of jagged, smooth pink against weathered tan that both entice and entrance you as you look them over. It’s a fact that you’ve obviously realized already, but… Izuku really is gorgeous. Like, the kind of gorgeous that has you swallowing down butterflies the second they walk in the room.
He blinks and reaches a hand to push a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, snapping you from your reverie with a sharp inhale. “You okay?” he asks, devoid of anything but genuine concern and a softness that makes your heart ache in your chest.
You nod and dart your tongue over your lips. “Yeah,” you confirm, winded. It would be a little awkward to explain that you’d been momentarily dumbstruck and reduced to a puddle because your bedroom has God-tier selfie lighting and your boyfriend looks like an angel when he’s not spazzing out. You pull him down again, this time with a hand spread over his jaw as you dive back into trying to remove any trace of his own taste from his mouth. He tugs the hem of your shirt upward and you break away to remove the offending garment, tossing it somewhere off the bed before Izuku begins kissing his way down your bare chest.
Your head tilts back and you let your eyes close. “Show me what you know,” you breathe. “And we’ll go from there.” You feel him grin against your sternum, where he nips a small mark into your skin before doing the same on the underside of a breast. You jump at the second nip; it didn’t hurt, but it was a sharp sensation you hadn’t been prepared for. You open your eyes and begin to say something, but your complaint dies in your throat as Izuku pulls a nipple between his teeth and rolls it against his tongue. Your eyes shut again and a quiet whimper escapes you. He matches his tongue with a hand on the opposite breast, swapping off without warning and quick enough to leave you no room to react. You can’t bring yourself to look down again, but you know he’s watching: you can feel his eyes boring into you, searching for every little twitch and whimper and cataloging it away like ticker tape. He gently bites the bud between his teeth and you finally have to relent, peering down through heavy lashes as his hand trails toward your shorts.
“I think I know what I’m doing here,” he says. He pokes a finger under the waistband and pops it against your stomach, his smile widening despite how fucking earnest he still sounds. “You’ll tell me if I can do something better, right?”
UGH. Absolute fucking bastard. “You’re pushing it,” you warn, though it’s heatless and you’re smiling around the retort. He seems to know he’s toeing the line and leans in to softly bite at your throat, which you happily accept with a quiet, high pitched yelp. You slip a hand through the curls on top of his head, and he arches his head into your palm with an appreciative groan against your collarbone. His hair is a melting point for him; one good scratching session and he’s passed out in your lap every single time. For how dense the curls are, they’re incredibly soft and slip effortlessly around your fingers like strips of dark green silk as you drag your nails across the crown of his head.
Izuku melts underneath your soft grip. For a moment he seems to forget where he’s going and any sense of what he’s doing, only aware of the nails running through his hair. Just as Izuku’s shoulders begin to slump, your fingers slowly tighten until you have a decent handful of curls wrapped around them when they begin to tug. Izuku keens into it with another groan, this one lower and guttural around his slackened jaw. “Don’t go to sleep on me,” you murmur down to him.
He grins against your sternum with half-open eyes. “Couldn’t if I wanted to,” he promises. You give the top of his head a gentle push, and he quickly gets with the program and shifts his way downward. He kisses your abdomen, then just above your navel, then just below it as he grabs the waistband of your shorts and guides them down over the swell of your hips. You let go of his hair and lift your ass to let him pull them all the way off before he throws them somewhere out of sight.
You eye his basketball shorts with disdain, lingering on the heavy tent standing up in the front. “You’re wearing too much,” you pout.
Izuku glances down to his lower half. “Later,” he replies. Without bothering to strip them off, he shoots you a grin and lowers himself with a startling quickness. You yelp, both in surprise at the sudden movement and protest at being blown off, but immediately shove the noise back into your own mouth as you slap a hand over it. He lays his chest flat to the bed in one quick shift and pins you with a wide, intense stare as he drags his tongue in a single flat stripe up the length of your slit. They part against the flat surface of his tongue and he wastes no time pressing inside you, his terrifyingly strong hands wrapped around the bend of your hips to keep you glued to his face.
A strangled moan creaks out as you writhe on the spot. For how often Izuku chokes on his own tongue in day to day life, he’s an undeniable master when he puts it to work. He’s long figured out which angles and spots made you lose your marbles, and he cycles between all of them as easy as turning a page. Your hands once again grab into his soft curls as your thighs slacken and fall away from his ears. He latches around your clit when he feels you relax, laving his tongue over it and pulling another sharp cry out of you as your legs tighten over his ears again.
He keeps you hovering there for what feels like hours. He doesn’t bother moving either of his hands, seemingly too content to press finger-shaped bruises into the valleys of your hips as you slowly fall apart in his arms. You glance downward and feel the same brick from before smash into your chest: he looks wild with tousled green curls sticking out in every direction, his wide eyes locked onto you with laser-sharp focus over the curve of your mound with the barest hint of an obscured smile just beneath. He knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing, and the devilish curl of his tongue through the wetness that has collected at your opening screams it.
“Am I doing alright?” he asks when he surfaces for air, his wet cheek pressed to your inner thigh. His breath tickles your overstimulated folds and you jump on the spot. You nod, unable to formulate a verbal response. He grins against your leg, his lips shining in the faint morning light. With the shadows pulled into sharp relief, his darkened eyes look almost bottomless as they follow your every movement. He watches you, hungry and devious in equal parts, before briefly biting into your thigh and returning to your slit.
Your back arches off the bed as you suck in a sharp breath. He lets go with one hand and traces a fingertip through your soaked folds, prepping it briefly before sliding it into you all the way to the top knuckle. You keen hard with your lower lip between your teeth. His hands are covered in calluses, the shift of just one finger inside you enough to make your brain short circuit. Despite their roughness, he curves them at the exact angle to light you up from the inside out and continues laving over your clit to keep you off center.
It works. By the time he slides a second finger inside, you’re openly moaning toward the ceiling. You glance down again, and for the first time he isn’t looking up at you. His eyes are shut and pinched with focus, his forehead free of any of the usual tension he carried there. He’s as lost as you, drowning in the same obscene noises that echo off the walls as he ruts down into the comforter through the fabric of his shorts. In an instant the intimacy of the moment punches you in the gut, ripping a loud moan out of you as your fingers grip tighter into his hair.
“M’go-” No good. Words aren’t happening. You make do with pulling him into you by the scalp, something he seems to be completely fine with as he relaxes his neck and picks up the pace with his fingers. Your breathy noises become full on wails as he pushes you closer to the edge and, with one particularly skillful twist of his wrist, shoves you over. Your thighs clamp around his head as you wail his name up toward the ceiling, your back arched high as every muscle in your body contracts at the same time. He keeps up the pace until you finally collapse like a broken marionette, falling to pieces around him as you struggle to regain your breath.
He leans his head against your thigh and hugs it to his cheek with his clean hand, his own breathing harsh and ragged. He’s flushed from the hairline down, a sharp contrast to the damp green curls that stick to his forehead. He’s obviously worked up and hasn’t stopped grinding himself down into the mattress (he might not even realize he’s doing it, with how hazy his eyes are), but he’s watching you with a wet grin as he corrects his own breathing. “You okay?” he asks again.
You roll your eyes toward the headboard behind you. “I’m pretty sure I just lost feeling in my feet for a second,” you respond between exhales. It’s hard to hold your head up, let alone form cohesive words, when your entire body feels like it’s been melted to a sticky puddle.
His eyes flicker wider, his body suddenly very still. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out.
You let a cackle roll out of you unabated. “Are you joking?” you ask back. “Relax, Izuku. That’s a good thing.” Your head luls back as your neck begins to protest how heavy your head is. The pillow catches it and you spend a moment just staring at the ceiling, letting the last of the aftershocks roll through you as Izuku kisses at your inner thigh.
His cheek shifts along your thigh as you regain a chunk of your composure. He’s staring up at you, his cheeks still flushed a bright pink and his lips parted. “I know how to do more,” he murmurs into the pause. A hand slips off your hip and down to his shorts, which he finally peel off and kick away without any regard for where they landed. He sits up and guides your legs back over his hips, hovering over you with his bare dick resting in the cleft of your ass. “If you want to see.”
You pick your hips up in response, giving him something to grind against as you roll into his lap. His jaw slackens in response as he takes a handful of ass on each side and squeezes, lifting you into the motion of grinding against him. His arms flex, the sharp lines of muscle he’d built up over many years standing out in bold, dark lines as he effortlessly holds your weight with just his grip. You let him take hold of your lower half and relax into the pillows under your head and shoulders, your stomach muscles pulled taut against the arch of your back. If he’s going to show off, then you can dish it right back.
He swallows hard, his eyes widening. A devilish spark dances across them as he stretches a hand down between you and presses the pad of his thumb to your still sensitive nub. You squeal in response and thrash in his grip, but he holds you steady and guides you through it as he takes his time preparing himself. When you twist and catch the head of his length for a brief swipe across your soaked entrance, you buck again and only fail in pushing him into you because he grips your hips tighter and forces you to stay in one place.
“Easy,” he soothes in a low tone. “We’ll get there. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Fuck that, if you get what you want it’s going to hurt in every good way possible, and the sooner you get started the better. You twist in his hands again, but he’s far too strong and holds you in place with obvious ease. He seems to read the tension building on your features and swipes himself through your folds just as much as he absolutely has to before pushing you down half of his length.
The sting of him pressing your walls outward is intense, almost blinding. You let out loud cries in unison, his jaw nearly falling off his face with visible effort to maintain his composure. “So tight,” he manages to growl out from behind his teeth after his jaw snaps shut. “Don’t move, please, not yet.” You obey his plea and go still in his hands, watching intently as his eyes slide shut for just a moment. He pulls himself almost all the way out of you with a slow inhale, exhaling as he thrusts in again and ending it with a sharp little noise from the bottom of his chest when your hips seat together.
Izuku isn’t an absolute monster behind the zipper, but he’s got more than enough and he absolutely knows what he’s doing with it… despite his typical oblivious act. As soon as you’re both adjusted he begins thrusting deep, using his wide planted knees as a sturdy base to bounce you off his lap with hard pops of skin. It’s rougher than it probably should be, but the burn of it is so incredible you can’t bring yourself to tell him to slow down. He watches from above, ragged breaths puffing out of him every time you thrust back against him. He hits a spot that makes your lungs freeze and he thrusts there again hard and deep, rolling against it with a drawn out groan that seems to come directly from his core. You reciprocate the with a desperate one of your own, leveraging your toes against the bed to push down against him as your eyes roll toward the back of your head.
“Beautiful,” he gasps out, his grip nearly unbearable across your ass until he lets go and you finally get some relief. “So fucking beautiful.” You moan in gratitude and let your hips relax into his palms as he guides them down so your spine is flat to the sheets again. He leans in to plant his forearms flat to the bed over your shoulders and kisses you deep. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, your arms snaking around his neck so you can reach his hair once again. He rumbles into the kiss as you find a couple handfuls of curly green locks at the back of his head and give them an experimental squeeze, his hips snapping into you in response.
Tugging his hair like a set of reins kicks him into a higher gear. As he drills you into the mattress, all hesitation abandoned, he gasps and groans into the crook of your neck without a single attempt to quiet them. A litany of praise and vulgarity mixes in with the desperate breaths, mirrored by your own calls to deities and encouragement when he finds an angle that has your legs clamping around him hard enough to hurt. “Fuckin- unh, so good,” he chokes out, his lips a mere inch from your ear. “Mine. All mine. Nn- fuck, lift up like that oh my God yes…”
He can’t seem to stop his mouth, and every word out of it is praise for you as he hovers in your face, unavoidable and stripped down to his rawest thoughts as you hold him close with both hands. “So gorgeous. So sweet. Wanna taste you every day forever.” It’s so sincere, so unfiltered and so goddamn him it makes your heart ache like it’s trying to burst in your chest as he floods you with a wave of vulnerability you’re not sure you even deserve.
You feel a coil begin to tighten behind your navel as he presses hard kisses to the front of your throat, his pace needy and focused as his words begin to slur together and mutate into simple noises from the back of his throat. “Almost there,” he warns, his voice high and tight against your skin. You nod your acknowledgment and pull him by the hair until your faces are level again, when you crush your lips together and immediately seek out his tongue. The kiss itself is more an open mouth display of tongues and obscene noises than anything intimate, both of you momentarily chasing your own release until they sync up and, with one last hard tug to his scalp, you wail his name toward the ceiling again and let your orgasm completely wreck you.
Izuku follows immediately afterward, his teeth sunk into the hill of muscle where your neck meets your shoulder, muffling the shaky moan that tore through him. He seats himself deep and rides out his own release with hard rolls of his hips, your insides lighting up hot with the load he streaks your inner walls with. You hadn’t even been aware that it was possible to go that deep, but there’s no denying it when you can literally feel where he is.
The silence that lapses is punctuated only by ragged breaths and the smack of lips pulling off each other as you both struggle to piece your brains back together. Unable to sit still you let go of his hair and skate your nails down his back, earning you a quiet groan of approval and a scar-riddled back arching up into your fingertips. “Holy shit,” he breathes to break the silence, looking down at you with a lopsided grin. “Good morning, sunshine.”
You giggle and hurriedly exhale. “Morning,” you reply airily. You reach a hand up to brush away a particularly long curl that’s stuck to his forehead. He watches your hand but doesn’t move away from it, and when the stray lock is pushed away he gently takes your hand and guides it to his lips. He opens his mouth to say something but pauses, seemingly reconsidering it and choosing to kiss your knuckles instead.
You frown at him. “What?” you ask. “You can’t make a face like that and then just leave it.”
Izuku opens his mouth again, appearing like he might argue, before he closes it again. You arch an eyebrow up at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says defenselessly with a shake of his head. “It’s hard to think.”
You give him a soft smile. “Relax. You’re okay.” You guide your tangled hands toward your face and brush your lips over his knuckles like he did to yours. “Now, what were you gonna say?”
The moment of focus seems to be enough to force a hard reset of Izuku’s brain. He blinks hard and shakes his head with a chuckle. “Sorry,” he repeats, holding his hands up again when you shoot him a dubious look. “I was gonna say that-” He pauses again and scratches idly at the back of his head. His gaze averts to the few inches of bedsheet that sit between them and it clicks - he’s getting bashful about something. Your dubious look shifts into a cheshire grin as you sit up to look him in the eye on his level. “I was gonna say- um…”
You nod to encourage him, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs around another hard swallow. “Go on,” you goad, sitting forward a little to distract him with your bare chest. It works; his gaze drifts downward and lingers for a few seconds before he snaps his focus back up to your face, his cheeks once again flushed a pale pink.
“Well…” He rubs the back of his neck and squirms on the spot. He peers around the room like he expects someone to be eavesdropping behind the dresser or something before leaning in, a hand cupped around one side of his mouth. You roll your eyes but play along and lean in closer so he can whisper in your ear:
“You’ve got a nice ass.”
Your elation flips to irritation like a lightswitch, and just as quickly you’re letting out a loud, raucous laugh. You grab a pillow from behind you and whip it in a crescent to peg him across the face with it. He takes the shot with a muffled grunt and bats the pillow down to his lap, a wide grin slapped across his face. “What? It’s true!”
“That’s not what you were gonna say and you know it,” you grouse back through a mock look of anger before poking your tongue out at him. He returns the gesture and the two of you fall into a moment of spastic laughter before coming back to reality with a chaste but tender kiss. You can forgive the leading on; he’d already communicated what remained unsaid in the bruises you can feel forming across your skin, on the teeth marks stinging at your shoulder, on the soft lips and sharp teeth you can still feel pulling at your bottom lip. You break it off and take his hand, scooting toward the edge of the bed and dragging a willing Izuku with you. “Shower, then coffee. You’re stuck with me today.”
Izuku presses the back of his free hand to his forehead as he follows you toward the bathroom door. “Oh no, whatever will I do?” he titters.
You shrug as you push the door open. “Get your dick sucked if you’re good.” You let go of his hand and enter the bathroom, a wide-eyed Izuku hot on your heels.
---
@the-angriestpineapple @deadassqueeraf @practisewhatyoupeach @cherrycolabomb
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shessoparticular · 4 years ago
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Blurred Lines | Part 1 | #ShawnMendesWritingCircle
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Thank you @saysweartogod-og​ for starting this #ShawnMendesWritingCircle challenge!! Hope ya’ll enjoy the first part of my shawn x pa! reader fic!
Being the personal assistant to one of the biggest popstars in the world was a busy job whenever Shawn was doing press or touring but you seemed to just be “one of the boys” whenever Shawn was recording new music. He now owned a small cottage just outside LA that he used exclusively to record all his new stuff, staying away from the now notorious cabin the woods where he recorded a lot of his earlier stuff. It quickly became one of your favorite places to spend time with one of your favorite people in the world.
You had all but moved into Shawn’s recording cottage to be on hand whenever he or his writers or producers needed anything. Shawn had insisted on you taking the guest room, claiming there was absolutely no reason for you to spend money to rent a place when he had the whole place to himself. Part of the deal was that you’d have to be on hand basically 24/7, not just for him, but for the whole team. If they wanted coffee, you got it. If they wanted any type of food, you got it. If they wanted a specific notebook, you got it. You had been Shawn’s assistant for two years and knew his favorite brands and items without giving it a second thought, stocking up on things you could’ve been asked for which made the number of times you’d actually have to leave the house minimal. Shawn This led to getting an insight into Shawn’s writing and producing habits for up to 10 hours a day. Recording time was the best time to spend around Shawn as you were free from a lot of the authoritarian figures who watched over the two of you constantly.
You knew it was inappropriate but of course you had a little bit of a crush on Shawn, who wouldn’t? Constantly throughout your working relationship, you had forgotten that he paid your bills and he was actually your boss, although he treated you like you were friends. Andrew and the team had specifically hired someone around his age hoping that they’d be able to work well with Shawn, but they never imagined that you’d have as good a relationship as you had now. You’d stay up together on the bus in the middle of tour, talking about absolutely nothing but somehow, you’d never run out of things to say, often chatting your heads off until you saw the sun come up through the front window. You’d often end up asleep on random couches in expensive hotel rooms when you decide to binge watch a movie trilogy or a season of a random show. You’d even snuck out without the others knowing, seeing the sights of whatever random city you had found yourselves in. The one thing the two of you never discussed was a kiss you had shared after a night out in Europe. You were both under the influence of a hell of a lot of alcohol and agreed to never speak on it again, Shawn saying it was a mistake. You definitely didn’t agree, it was now like it never actually happened, despite how much you wanted it to happen again. The lines of a working relationship were blurred a long time ago.
“Hey y/n, can you grab me a new bottle?” Shawn asked, holding up the empty flow bottle, distracting you from your thoughts as you sat on the beanbag placed along the wall of the small studio room. “Got you” You laughed, standing up and grabbing a new bottle from the fridge next to you, tossing it to the tall boy situated on the chair close to the desk holding a heap of expensive recording equipment. You had been too distracted by your own thoughts to see that he was staring at you before he asked the question, with the same look you would give him whenever he wasn’t looking, a look of adoration.
Shawn had developed a crush on you as well. It was kind of inevitable for him, spending all this time together, feelings were bound to appear. He was professional though, and never let himself cross the boundaries though, except for that one night. He valued your friendship too much to let anything get in the way of you keeping your job. He was happy to have you around in any capacity.
“What’s on the agenda tonight, popstar?” You asked as you took a sip of the bottled water you’d gotten out for yourself, plopping yourself back down on the beanbag. Sunday’s meant Shawn was working by himself in the studio, free from the distractions of the other producers and writers, allowing him to be the sole creator of any ideas that came to mind that day. This was your favorite way to watch Shawn work. “It’s like 6pm and I’m honestly nearly done here so what do you think about some UberEats, that beer in the main fridge and whatever new Netflix standup comedy is out?” He asks, playing around with some buttons on the panel on the desk in front of him. “Only if I get to pick where we order from” You laughed in response, pulling up the app on your phone to search for your favorite fast food burger joint. “I think I can deal with Chick-fil-A again” He chuckled. He knew you a little too well. 
Shawn returned to whatever he was creating on the sound desk in front of him, leading you to unlock your phone and open up the photos app. You spent the next however many minutes aimlessly looking at all of the photos of the two of you together, silly selfies when you were both going insane on tour and the typical tourist photos in front of landmarks all over the world featured, your mind going back to every moment you’d captured together. You smiled to yourself thinking of the memories you’d shared together.
Three hours later the two of you were curled up under blankets on the L-shaped couch, chugging your beers, chowing down on the chicken sandwiches while a Netflix standup special was playing in the background. You and Shawn rarely ever paid attention to what was playing on the TV, too engrossed in your own conversation. The two of you had discussed any random topic you could think of while consuming a copious amount of alcohol. The two of you both hadn’t had alcohol for a while, so it was affecting you a lot more than it usually did. “So… is there a girl yet Mendes?” you giggled, the beer finally making you a little bit buzzed. You were always pretty professional around Shawn and he rarely ever saw you under the influence. In the two years you’d known him, he’d never had a girlfriend. Of course, there were girls around, look at him! But they’d never stuck around. “Why do you ask me this when you already know the answer is no? We spend all our time together, I don’t have time for anyone else” He laughed, taking another swig of his fourth beer. 
“So, are there any boys?” He retorted while you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah there’s one annoying one who depends on me for everything, his name is Shawn” you cracked yourself up, you and Shawn knew at this point the alcohol was overwhelming you. You had stayed up for another few hours, finishing off a few episodes of Jane The Virgin. “I think it’s bedtime for you, look at you” he snickered while he cleaned up the leftovers and empty bottles. You were still laid up on the couch, but now half asleep. “Only if I get to stay in your bed” you replied with a giggle, looking up at him while he stood over cleaning off the coffee table in front of you. Drunk you had a lot more courage than your sober self. “I suppose, only if you stay on your side” He laughed, obviously a bit tipsy as well. You helped him scoop up the rest of the mess before you headed towards his bedroom door instead of your own.
“So, what are we gonna talk about? I haven’t shared a bed with a boy since you started cockblocking me two years ago” you teased, looking at him from across the bed. “Cockblocking?” He asked while confused. “Yeah. You think any guy is gonna wanna try and get with me at a bar when I’m always with this extremely good-looking tall dude scaring them off?” You replied truthfully, the alcohol had obviously worn off by this point of the night. “You think I’m good-looking?” he teased, poking his tongue out at you. “Of course I think that! I’ve only had a crush on you for the last eighteen months” you finally admitted, afraid of his reaction. “That’s the alcohol talking” He sighed, with a slight look of disappointment on his face. “It’s really not. I just don’t want to risk my job, Shawn. We’ve been so professional together, trying to not break any rules. I never wanted people to think that I got to where I am by sleeping with my boss. I’d never go against Andrew or your label, Shawn. I love our relationship and how we are together so much. I’d never risk that because of a stupid little crush” You were almost crying at this point, wiping away tears as you sat up in the bed. 
“It’s not a stupid crush y/n. You know heaps of people around me have said that we look like a couple. I like you as well, you must know that already. I have for ages, that’s why I’ve never dated anyone since we got to know each other. We just can’t act on it; it would be so unprofessional” he admitted. “I wish we could, I really do. You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now. But as you said I would hate for people to think any less of you because of it” he continued. “That’s what I thought, I want more than anything for us to actually be together and I’m annoyed that it took alcohol for me to tell you. Do you even remember when we kissed in Germany?” you asked him. “Of course I remember it. I think about it all the time” He exclaimed. “We can’t be talking about this y/n” He sighed, looking over at you. “Can’t talk about what, Shawn?” You sassed back, your sadness quickly turning to anger. “Us. There can’t be an us” He stated simply. “Then stop leading me on Shawn! You can’t treat me like more than a friend and turn it around on me when it suits you. It’s embarrassing. I don’t know if you remember, but you kissed me Shawn, not the other way around. If you want me to just act like your employee, that’s exactly what I’ll do” you yelled almost quietly, taking your pillow and storming back into the guest bedroom. You made sure to slam both his and your door as loud as you possibly could.
The next morning you made your way out to the kitchen to make your morning coffee before Shawn joined you. “I made you a coffee, boss” you sassed, passing him the extra cup you had just poured moments before he entered the kitchen. If he wanted you to act like an employee, that’s exactly what you’d do. “Thank you. I ordered from that breakfast place you like down the road. I just have to make a phone call; can you just go to the door and grab it? It should be here any minute. Then I want to actually discuss what the fuck actually happened last night.” He stated, finishing his iPhone out of his pocket. “Sure” you replied, heading to the door quickly, with your coffee still in hand, to meet the delivery driver. You grabbed the food and tipped the driver before heading back inside the door while Shawn finished off his phone call. 
You didn’t want to listen in, but you couldn’t help it. “Yeah, yeah of course” he replied to the person on the phone. “No, I’m definitely single. I’d love to take you out once you get to LA” he told the person on the other side of the call. You couldn’t help but freeze in place when you heard what he said, dropping the coffee cup, allowing the liquid to spill everywhere and the porcelain to break all over the floor, tears filling your eyes. “I’ve gotta go” He hung up quickly before looking over at you near the entrance. “y/n?” He questioned as soon as he saw the tears in your eyes. “Yeah, I heard that Shawn” You replied angrily, dropping the bag of food on the kitchen bench before storming off into your guest room, locking the door behind you.
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unsettledink · 4 years ago
Text
It’ll Last Longer - Fluffuary Day 4
Prompt: Pictures
Word count: 880
Summary: Peter doesn't know why people seem to think Rhodey is the responsible one.
After all, the pictures are his idea.
*
Peter doesn’t know why people seem to think Rhodey is the responsible one, the level headed one. It’s kind of amazing how Rhodey’s managed to fool people into thinking he’s not nearly as reckless as Tony. 
After all, he sends the first picture. Just a quick, slightly blurry snap of Tony’s face, half squashed against the pillow, eyes closed. 
Rhodey: Rare sighting of a genius at rest. Will update on this momentous event.
And then, a few minutes later, two more pictures, in rapid succession: the first of Tony, in the same position, eyes cracked open. The second, much blurrier, with barely half of Tony’s face in frame, obviously moving.
Rhodey: False alert. It was a ruse! 
Rhodey: Mistakes were made send he
By the time Peter gets  there, it’s devolved into something akin to a pillow fight and no one was sleeping. 
Peter fires the next shot with a selfie of himself kissing Tony’s cheek, Tony in the middle of laughing at him and not even aware of the phone.
Peter: Talking about you
Rhodey: If he’s laughing about it nothing he’s saying is true.
Peter: You know he said the same thing to me about you
Rhodey: Yeah well who’s the msot honest one here?
Peter: …
Peter: Uh, me
Rhodey: ...fuck
And it’s Rhodey who ups the stakes. Rhodey who sends a picture of Tony curled up in bed on his side, maybe asleep (probably not) and completely naked. Guh.
Rhodey: I took your advice
Peter: Uh what advice was that
Peter: You know when they say send nudes it generally means of yourself
Peter: Not that I’m complaining
Rhodey: What you said about finding more creative ways to wear him out
Rhodey: Yeah I bet you’re not complaining
Peter: I totally don’t remember saying that but sure
Peter: Do I even want to know?
The answer he gets isn’t in words. It’s another picture of Tony, flopped over onto his stomach. Low angled, the full length of his body, from the come on his ass to the smirk on his face where he’s looking over his shoulder.
Peter: Holy shit
Peter: I give good advice
He can’t let Rhodey win, of course.
The pictures fly between them fast and furious. Tony seems mostly amused by it all. He’s perfectly willing to play along with them both for maximum effect, probably because he seems like how they’re showing him off. And likes the end results. 
Peter thinks his favorite entry is the one of Tony lying on the bed, clearly post sex; flushed, hickeys on his neck and come on his chin, lips swollen red and grinning, eyes crinkled at the corners. It also just happens to catch Rhodey right as he’s sitting down for some very important meeting. 
Whoops. 
Rhodey gets him back, sending a picture the minute he knows Peter’s going to be leaving the lecture hall. Nearly makes him drop his phone and wow, it would have been awkward if someone picked it up with that still onscreen. That being a picture of Tony’s torso, of his dick hard and dark and a gold ring around the base.
Rhodey: can’t stick around late enough to say bye, but i left you a present
Rhodey: don’t take too long. He’s trying to be good but it’s already been a while
Peter: i will be there in SECONDS
Peter: don’t tell him. that doesn’t mean he’ll get to come any time soon
Rhodey: keep him distracted for me
Peter tries. Rhodey’s gone for a week that time, and Peter doesn’t give him a chance to forget about them for a second. Tony gets in on it even; snags Peter’s phone at one point and sends Rhodey a selfie while Peter’s fucking him, curled behind Tony with a hand in his hair, yanking his head back so Tony’s staring that the camera through almost closed eyes, Peter’s face buried in the crook of his neck. 
Rhodey: that’s the happiest I’ve seen him when I have to be gone like this
Rhodey: you’re good for us, Pete
Peter’s still not completely sure how to respond to things like that, things that make it seem like this could be about a lot more than sex. That maybe they might want to keep him around for a while. 
It’s not that he doesn’t believe it— he just doesn’t know why. The two of them work together so well already. Why add him in for real?
He’s not going to ask.
The last day Rhodey’s gone, when he should already be on his way back, Peter sends a pic: Tony’s ass—his perfect, hot, oh so grabbable ass—with Peter’s hand holding him open for the best possible view of his dick deep inside it.
Peter: I’m keeping him ready 
Peter: hurry home
Peter: we miss you
Rhodey: Fuck
Rhodey: Tell Tony he needs to to make my suit faster
He knows Tony will leap at the opportunity, will somehow find a way even though he’s already upgraded both their suits beyond reason. Peter’ll tell him. 
Later, though. Because right now, Tony’s already too cock drunk to answer anything, and it’s going to be a while before his brain is working again. 
Good thing Tony’s got them to take care of him.
*
AO3
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