Antonio: So, who wears the pants?
Alfred, standing pantsless: Romano does.
Antonio: So, who wears the pants?
Alfred, standing pantsless: Romano does.
I’ve been drawing Norway too much lately, so have this handsome man 👌
America: Is everything alright?
America: You’ve been really quiet today. Like, even more than usual.
Canada: Well planning murder aloud would be stupid
Wait, she did look familiar. “Haley! I’m so sorry.” He didn’t have the best track record in remembering everyone. After all, he had once owned a third of the world and for most the time didn’t get involved with them too much. Even if he did, Alfred took up a lot of his time, along with keeping an eye on his nation; so now when it came to remembering others that he used to know he had a bad record in remembering them.
“It’s been a good while since we last spoke, how have things been?” The brit only could hope he managed to save himself from embarrassment or further anger. In honesty, he was used to anger or resentment to how he was or is as a family member, he doesn’t stop hearing about it from his brothers or jabs that Alfred makes from time to time, even if he knows the American means nothing about it anymore.
Posted an Iceland fic on wattpad, ff and ao3 under the name in the family Bible, very proud of this piece, worked v hard on it
Kiku: Yes he does, we stay at our owners house. Alfred freaks out over lightning and thunder, so I usually comfort him to calm him down.
“Ah,, w h a t?? Anon you’re too nice!” >////<
“I have four dogs
for now. There’s old Bentley, he’s an ‘Old English Sheepdog’ mix, Scooby, he’s a young Doberman with floppy ears (did you know that their ears are naturally floppy? There isn’t any good reason to cut them, it can also be painful and do more harm than good.) with an un-docked tail (a long tail that hasn’t been cut), Dolly, a Rottweiler puppy, and Courage, a Rough Collie.”
icelat, aka, an angsty teen that has a volcanic eruption problem and a vertically challenged teen with no filter get together, and shenanigans ensue. and by shenanigans, i mainly mean rambling and arguing about the latest novels for five hours.
Here is May’s Nyotalia doodle! I decided to choose Nyo!Italy because she’s so spunky and cute and full of spring, just like May! :D (That joke fell flat on its face I know….)
(BTW I fail at drawing plates and pizzas….I’m sorry)
Now….who shall I draw for June?
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya
USA: I’ve had the tattoo since 1976, thought it was a good way to celebrate 200 years of independence (USA babeyyyy)! I’m not entirely sure it will fade away, because I got it purposefully. I’ve gotten hurt before by doing stupid shit like burning my hand, but those generally go away. I’ve also gotten hurt from battles and wars…like I do have a large burn scar on my back from the Civil War and a faded few scars from the Revolution.
UK: Amelia, sewing is very very easy. Now simply loop the thread-
USA, pricks herself: MY FINGER !
UK: HOW WE LITERALLY JUST STRATED?!
Berwald listened to some podcasts while he played Animal Crossing today. He learned that he was much more productive when he listened to the podcasts, and when he checked to see what his island rating was, he found out that K. K. Slider was coming to his island.
Spongebob was my childhood
France: Every time I get in the shower, I think of you~
England: Is it because you wish I was there with you?
France: No, it’s because the French word for shower is douche
bedfellows - [lithuania x reader] – lemon
Sunlight splintered in through his skull, and the pinched throb in his head woke Toris, though his heavy limbs could’ve used at least a few more hours of sleep.
Waking up came more easily as Toris stretched and two things struck him; the first, was that he was naked, the sheets draping strategically over his hips.
The second was that when he’d stretched his arm out, it hadn’t fallen against his mattress, but instead brushed something much softer and warmer than the empty space that usually slept on the other side of the bed.
When the ambiguous soft-warm let out a light snore, Toris jackknifed to a sitting position.
His heart thudded in his chest as he took in the sight of the beautiful stranger beside him.
This hadn’t been a woman he’d seen before – other than when they’d hit it off at the bar the previous night, of course.
Her hair splayed across the pillow, Toris had no trouble making out the soft curves of her body which cut an alluring figure against the sheets.
At the sight of her bareness, he became aware of the tightness at his crotch; apparently whatever activities they’d engaged in last night hadn’t sapped him of his usual morning vigor.
Still though, she was asleep. Toris tugged the blankets up to cover her, feeling guilty at how he ogled her in her blissful ignorance. He moved slowly, careful not to disturb her, and for a few moments, she remained tranquilly asleep.
However, it was a short-lived peace, for then she startled awake at the new weight of the blanket over her. She yawned and stretched, and still, Toris couldn’t help but watch her. Her skin looked soft to the touch.
Oh, how he wanted to touch her again.
Her eyes opened slowly – she looked dazed. From how she looked about her, she didn’t seem to recognize her surroundings, but this didn’t seem to worry her either. When she pushed herself up into a sitting position, it was slowly, as if she knew she had time to spare.
The sheets pooled at her waist. Toris tried not to stare too long at her bare breasts. She didn’t seem to notice at first.
“Good morning,” she yawned, her voice still graveled with sleep.
“Good morning,“ he said. "I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s alright,” she brought her wrist across her eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. The motion made her breasts stick out again; pert nipples stiff. He wondered if she was aroused or cold and Toris felt himself harden further. She blinked a few more times and watched Toris watch her, starting to look more alert.
Now, she seemed to realize how exposed she was, and she snatched the sheets up to her chest.
Her cheeks pinkened, but her face remained mostly impassive.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Toris said again, rubbing the back of his neck, his own face reddening with shame. With his free hand, he gathered the sheets towards his own crotch, trying to disguise the tent he was pitching beneath. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s alright, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen anyway.” Her blush darkened at this and she looked away.
This was true. Toris couldn’t remember a lot though; they’d both been fairly drunk. He hoped that perhaps a little breakfast and some ibuprofen could unlock such foggy memories. He practically ached at the idea of what he could’ve been doing with this woman.
She shifted, looking a little uncomfortable, but it was her voice that dragged Toris from his daydreams.
“Do you, uh – well, is it alright if I…clean up a bit? Like, shower and stuff?”
“Of course it is! The bathroom is right over there,” Toris gestured towards the door across the room. “Please, help yourself to anything in there.” He flushed, feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t offered. Was he supposed to? “I’m sorry if I’m a little out of it, I don’t do this often.”
At this, her lips quirked upwards into a small smile.
“It’s okay, I don’t either.”
She hesitated, looking down at herself, to the door. It was about a ten-foot distance. Her blush was beginning to creep down from her face, to her neck. Toris wasn’t going to make her say the words aloud.
He turned away from her, having something of his own he didn’t want her to see.
“I won’t look,” he promised.
He heard a rustling behind him, felt the bed divot, and caught her hasty ‘thanks’, before her hurried footsteps padded across the carpet. He didn’t look back at where she’d been until he heard the light click on and the bathroom door creak mostly shut.
At the sound of water running, Toris took the sign that he was in the clear.
He got up, not minding his nakedness so much anymore. He went to his dresser and grabbed a pair of briefs, pulling them on, so that at least when she got done showering, they didn’t have to do the awkward ‘dipping out’ politely for a one-night stand thing as naked strangers.
Which reminded him.
Toris left the room briefly to go to the hall closet, and grab a towel.
On his way in, he realized that she’d left her clothes on the floor by the side of the bed she’d slept on. He considered bringing those to her too, though a little black dress and pumps didn’t seem like the most comfortable thing to squeeze back into the morning after while nursing a hangover.
Instead, Toris went to his dresser and grabbed one of his oversized shirts to include with the towel and her clothes, so that she had the option for comfort if she felt so inclined.
Toris went to the bathroom door and knocked.
“It’s just me – I realized you probably don’t know where the towels are,” he let out a little laugh, “and I brought clothes too.”
“Come in,” she called.
Her voice sounded lighter. Toris noted that her voice was attractive; like it could be hired out to make announcements at public places, instantly trusted by those who heard it. He’d apparently trusted it enough last night.
When Toris stepped in, steam was already gathering in the bathroom, collecting in a luxurious fog at the mirror.
She was sitting at the edge of the bathtub, her thighs pressed together, her arm over her breasts to provide some modicum of privacy. He averted his eyes politely.
“I’ll just leave this here.” He set the pile neatly on top of the toilet, where they’d be easily accessible for when she was done.
Toris turned to leave but stopped at the feeling of something soft catching at his fingers. When he turned, her hand was wrapped warmly around her fingers. She wasn’t looking at him – at least not his face. Her eyes were drawn to the bulge at his briefs.
Toris didn’t want to assume, didn’t want her to feel pressured just because she was naked in his bathroom and he was wanting.
But she wouldn’t look away.
With a short, little tug, she brought Toris closer. He held his breath as he watched her. The tub was half-filled. The arm over her breasts fell away, and Toris watched as she took the hand she was holding, and placed it over one of her breasts. He could feel the hard peak of her nipple against his palm. She squeezed her hand around his so that he was grabbing her.
His cock throbbed.
She swallowed and looked at him through half-lidded eyes.
When her hand left his, entrusting her body to him, Toris continued to fondle her.
His ministrations were gentler on her than she’d been on herself. She leaned back slightly and sighed, her eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. The small sound dropped through him like a pin and pressed straight to his crotch. He was almost painfully hard now.
With both hands free, she reached for the waistband of his underwear and dragged it down over his hips. His cock sprang out.
He saw her lean in, lips first, both of his hands raised to her shoulders to stop her. His fingers were soft at her skin, and she looked up questioningly. He could see the slight furrow of her brow; she thought he was rejecting her.
Toris gave her a small smile.
“I think you’ve done a lot for me already, and it’s my turn to pleasure you.”
Again, he couldn’t remember exactly what had happened the previous night, but the part about pleasing her - this soft, lovely stranger - made him feel strong and capable. He wanted to feel her nails dig into his skin and see her body writhe beneath him. He rolled his briefs all the way down his legs and stepped out. Then he knelt before her, his hands finding their ways to her knees.
He looked up at her to make sure her eyes met his and planted a kiss to the inside of her knee.
He spread her thighs, feeling the plushness of her graze his cheeks.
She gasped slightly at the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin. His fingers crept in, just enough to part the thick curls between her legs.
“Your scent,” he murmured against her, breathing deep and taking in her smell. Musky, with the slight tang of sweat.
At his comment, he felt her squeeze around him slightly; trying to drive him out. He meant it as a compliment though; he loved the smell of a wanting woman, so intimate and vulnerable to his senses.
“Open up for me.”
Her hands were at the lip of the bathtub where she perched, and as he placed a delectable open-mouthed kiss against her sex, she arched towards him with a soft moan. Her fingers slipped against the porcelain, but Toris had her anchored in his grasp, his hands reaching around for her hips.
He traced the tip of his tongue against the seam of her cunt and reveled in the wetness that seeped from her in response. Her flavor was a more intense manifestation of her scent. He kissed at her, his lips moving against her lower ones.
Her hands flew to his hair, fingers catching at where it was still tied into a loose, messy ponytail from the night before.
He liked the feeling of her pulling him, clutching at him. That feeling from earlier, the thrill of feeling wanted, of her needing him, encouraged him. He nuzzled into her sex, the sounds that arose from him delving further into her lewd enough to bring a flustered pink to her cheeks.
He kissed at her, lapping and sucking until she jolted in his grasp.
It hadn’t been so long that Toris couldn’t recognize what he’d found when he’d garnered that reaction. Memorizing the feeling of her when she’d reacted, he ground the flat of his tongue against the same spot, this time registering the little bundle of nerves he brushed in the process.
Her hips jerked against his mouth. Toris liked this roughness. He leaned in further towards her, meeting the clash of her hips with his tongue. Her mewls grew louder. He focused his tongue at her clit, teasing, and then gave her a long suck.
At this, she arched again, leaning so far back, she lost her balance and almost fell back into the tub – which was now almost brimming with water.
She slipped a hand from Toris’ hair and groped blindly behind her, struggling to find the correct nozzle to shut it off.
Toris entrusted that task to her; he kept sampling her, his tongue and lips working her expertly.
She did manage to shut the water off – just in the nick of time – the nozzles breaking her fall.
“Oh!” she gasped.
Toris pulled back, mouth gleaming with her wetness as he studied her; flushed from the heat that rolled off the water and the fever of his mouth on her.
She was blushing, her half-fallen position making her look even more like the type of person Toris wanted to hold and take.
“I’d love to see how you are when we get you into hot water, but I don’t think you’ll be getting very clean – not yet anyway.”
She shuddered beneath him.
“Go to the bed, yeah?”
Hyper aware of how her body moved when she did, she pushed off from the lip of the tub and made off in the direction of the bed, her arms wrapped around her chest in a poor attempt to cover herself.
His voice was kind – which was partly why she hadn’t expected the sharp slap to her ass as she left. She gasped and looked back over her shoulder. Toris was still smiling his boy-next-door smile, though his eyes were at her ass.
When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she could make out the pink mark he’d left at her, which matched the pink at her face.
Toris followed her out of the bathroom to the bed. She climbed up on top of it, a little unsure of how he wanted her; all she knew was that she was still wanting, especially after how close he’d gotten her in the bathroom.
On her hands and knees suited him just fine. She felt him come up behind her, his length pressing into the crest of her ass.
She moaned, luxuriating in the feel of his pulsing warmth, and leaned back against him.
His hands palmed the swells of her buttocks, squeezing just shy of pain and spreading them slightly. She was so wet he could hear her, even then. He took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her arousal again.
Then he leaned down his chest along her back, his mouth at her ear.
She could feel his hair as it tickled her.
“Can I…?” he murmured.
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Fuck her? Too vulgar.
Make love? He couldn’t possibly to someone he’d known less than twelve hours.
“Please,” she whined, stretching backward like a cat, into him.
He countered by pushing his tip into her.
The first few inches were embarrassingly easy – she was practically dripping, and already thrumming with the high of an approaching orgasm.
Feeling her stiffen under him, Toris slowed. Now there was a dull burn as he entered her; she hadn’t been as prepared for penetration as she could’ve been.
He felt thicker than she remembered from their previous fuck, probably because before her head had been clouded with liquor, her senses numbed by her inebriation. Here, she felt everything in hyper detail though; the throb of him inside of her, the pulsating of her own walls.
The dull ache at her pelvis was nothing to the pinch of her headache.
She was close enough to ready that she jostled her hips, signaling to him that he could start moving.
Toris started at a steady pace, thrusting in and out of her heat, trying to make sure she was fully adjusted before he got any rougher, despite what she’d been telling him. She panted beneath him, her fingers digging into the sheets and squeezing. His first few thrusts worked her through the rest of the pain.
“Harder,” she muttered, “please.”
Her voice, weak and desperate brought back the rise of the carnal need to dominate her. His fingers dug into her hips, almost bruising in their intensity. His pace quickened.
She moaned loudly at this change, trying to slam her hips back into him, to meet him halfway. He held her still.
“Don’t move,” he grunted.
His voice sent a little thrill flecking up her spine.
He hilted into her with a particularly rough thrust, the tip of him brushing a spot deeper inside of her, that he hadn’t hit before – and that no one had hit in a while. She arched, clenching around him.
“Ah! That’s –“
Her tight heat was almost too much for him; almost religiously good.
He could hear how he fucked her now, each slap of his hips against her accompanied by a lewd wet noise – and of course, her pants and shuddered gasps below him. Toris leaned over her, one of his hands leaving her hips to trail over her body, making its way up to cup her breast.
He could feel the trembling movements in her body under his duress – the way she shook in his grip and yielded to him. His thumb stroked at her nipple, at first, tender, and then more frantically to try and wind her up further for him. He loved seeing her likes this, loved more that he was the reason for it.
He felt her breath catch in her throat; she tensed and squeezed around him again. The heat was lapping through him in waves, settling at his groin. He twitched inside of her; he was getting close.
His hand moved past her breast, slinking past her shoulder to catch at her hair. With his fingers firmly tangled in it, he gave a light tug.
She gasped, not expecting it, so he did it again.
“Come back to me,” he said, his voice rough against her shoulder blade.
Now when he tugged at her hair, she pushed up from the mattress, and let him guide her up onto her knees.
He liked how the feeling of her around him changed and shifted as she straightened up slightly. In return, he hit different angles in her, and so it was with a fervent whine on her part, that he slipped himself out of her, and pulled her back to his chest. He adjusted his position so that she was sitting on his lap, and then he was inside her again.
She moaned loudly at this, scrabbling for an awkward hold around him as she struggled to reach behind.
Toris’ hand was still in her hair, and he swept it away so that her neck was bare. He pressed a kiss to it, and then, feeling her relax against him, he sunk his teeth lightly into the sensitive skin. She jolted in his grip.
“I’m going to have you come like this, on my lap.”
He thrust up into her from below, one of his hands again at her hips in a bruising anchor. From over the slope of her shoulder, Toris watched the way her body shifted from his ministrations; the soft bounce of her breasts, and the way her thighs tensed over his.
His pace slowed; she started to wait longer at his lap for his thrusts.
He sunk himself into her particularly rough and felt her clench around him. An unwitting little whimper left her lips and he twitched inside of her again.
“I’m coming, mylimoji.”
At the sound of his voice, she clenched again. His hands, moving from where they were in her hair and at her hip, converged at her chest, cupping her breasts and at the same time using them as leverage to thrust into her more roughly.
Her face split into a brilliant crimson.
“I am,” she gasped as he jostled her, “too!”
The clenching came again, and again, suddenly coming on faster than his pace could keep up with. He felt pride swell in him – he always preferred for his partners to come before him; he was more assured of his own release after all, than theirs.
Here, he had the best seat in the house as he watched her uncoil on him.
He fucked her through her release, pumping through her tightness and welcoming the rush of wetness that dripped from her. When her body was spent and sweaty on top of him, he was able to thrust a few more times, at a haphazard pace, painfully hard and on the brink of his own release.
She was overly sensitive to the drag of his cock along her inner walls, and every thrust now had her twitching and mewling. One of her arms reached behind her to fit a clumsy hold around his shoulder; her nails dug into him, and his hands at her breasts gave her a gratuitous squeeze.
“I love the sounds you make,” he breathed against her clammy skin.
He loved a great deal about her, he was a little flustered to admit. This stranger, while randomly appearing in his life, fit perfectly in his hands.
She tossed her head away from where he could glimpse her from over her shoulder. So he’d embarrassed her; he loved that too.
He grunted and then brought her down to him once more, this time anchoring her for good.
She moaned tiredly as he spilled into her, his seed mingling with her slick. They could both definitely benefit from a bath now; and at the prospects of getting her into one, he almost hardened again.
Toris pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his arms around her relaxing from their more scandalous hold, to fold her into a gentle hug.
“So about that bath…” Her stomach rumbled rather suddenly, surprising them both. Her cheeks flushed and Toris threw his head back into a laugh. “Alright, and breakfast too.”
Her stomach rumbled again, and she reached up to cover her face and mumble something about how fate would ruin a perfectly good moment just for something as arbitrary as food.
“Got it; breakfast first.”
Toris got up and went back to the bathroom, grabbing the towel and clothes he’d brought to her before. On the way back to the bed, he stopped at his dresser for a clean change of underwear.
While before, he might’ve tried not to stare as she swiped the towel between her legs, he was absolutely entranced by the sight now – as well as the sound.
She warmed under his stare, he could tell by the pink that lingered at her skin, darkening the flush of exertion that had already settled there.
He watched as she pulled his shirt on over her head, the fabric looser on her than it was on him, though pulling taut at a few delicious places he suddenly had the urge to palm and feel through the fabric.
God, he couldn’t wait for that bath.