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buttercupsandboys · 2 years

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Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 11

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 11: beautiful, if not slightly confusing

Word count: 3005

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, smut

Alfie and Livy spend a lazy day at home, which leads to sex, banter and overthinking.

A/N: This update is long overdue—you can thank Covid and some overthinking of my own for the delay! I wrote most of it while heavily medicated and listening to Skinny Love (the Birdy cover). You might want to do the same … the song, not the drugs. xx

Have I used this GIF before? I’m not sure, but it’s one of my faves. His eyes! Those lips! *swoon*

— • — • —

Livy doesn’t believe in god.

She’s never set foot in a church, and the closest she’s come to religious awakening was a whiskey-soaked night that somehow ended with sunrise over Primrose Hill.

The Holy Spirit never found his way to her doorstep, and that’s fine. Livy has long stopped looking for a saviour.

Instead, she worships the light—that divine moment when the sun peeks over the horizon and paints the world in dusty shades of gold and rose. It’s the gift of a new day, dawn after the darkness, and nothing else could possibly compare.

Except maybe, for this….

Livy props herself on an elbow and traces small circles against Alfie’s sun-kissed skin. It’s early, and he’s still asleep, looking peaceful and entirely at ease. She wonders, briefly, if this serenity is the work of his god. His full lips part under his thick beard, and a lock of stray hair rests gently against his forehead.

He seems younger, innocent almost, without the weight of it all: his work, the war, the world; the invisible burden he shoulders but will never admit to carrying. It’s a side of him she knows few people will ever see. Alfie is proud and strong, more than any man she’s ever met, but still just a man. Flesh and bones like any other. He wants desperately to take care of her, but who, she wonders, will take care of him?

Her fingers give into temptation and brush the hair from his brow, lingering against his warm skin. He catches her hand before she can pull away, eyes still closed as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“What are you doing awake?” Alfie mumbles, his voice gruff with sleep.

Livy smiles. “Taking in the view,” she whispers, breaking from his grasp to cup his face. “You look almost sweet when you’re sleeping.”

“Fuck off,” he scoffs. His eyes open, and he shoots her a stern look, but the effect is somewhat diminished when he leans into her palm. “You talk a lot shite, don’t ya, love?”

“Never, Alfie. Never with you.”

Livy moves closer, tenderly stroking his cheek, enjoying the weight of his face in her hand, and he watches, wordless for once. Silence hangs between them, suspended in time like dust in a beam of golden light. They’re bound together, hips pressed and legs tangled beneath the crisp cotton sheets.

Seconds stretch into minutes, sticky and slow, just like her thoughts. She opens and closes her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her heart is still raw and exposed, off balance after revealing her scars, which she hadn’t planned to do last night. Or ever, really. But Alfie had left her little choice. The way he went on and on about nonsense, about evil men, about getting hurt—as if she needed protection from him of all people.

No, the truth was inevitable. Livy told him because she wasn’t ready to lose him.

But she’s not sure she’s ready for this either.

Something pure and beautiful is blooming around them. Livy can’t explain it, but she can see it, written in his ever-changing eyes. This morning, they’re stormy blue, strong and unwavering, staring fiercely into hers.

Alfie is being uncharacteristically patient like he’s waiting for an answer to some unspoken question. Livy can feel herself falling, heart tumbling, soul cracked wide open, ready to tell him everything he wants to hear, but then she trips over a question of her own. What kind of life could they possibly build with roots as rotten as hers?

Twisted and dark, broken and barren.

The thought brings her to a standstill and not because of her prospects. Livy is under no illusions about who she is and what she can aspire to. Women like her don’t get happy endings, and she made peace with her fate a long time ago. She doesn’t wallow in pity or wish away the days hoping for things she’ll never have. Instead, she wakes up every morning and looks for the sun because today is all that matters.

And if it rains tomorrow?

Well, the future is not her concern.

Or at least, it wasn’t until she met Alfie.

The bloody man has destroyed her inner compass, and now she doesn’t know what to think. Her head is brimming with new fears and worries, imaginary scenarios, all the reasons why this is a terrible idea, all the ways she’ll break his fucking heart, and, and—and enough. If she were a child, Livy would put her hands over her ears to drown out the noise, but she’s not, so she bridges the gap between her lips and his.

It has the same effect anyway; everything else fades away.

Alfie kisses her back, deep, hungry, hard. He tastes bittersweet, like burnt caramel and dark rum. For fun and fucking, indeed. She smiles against his lips, and he growls, weaving one hand through her hair, the other pinning her tight against him. Her body submits in ways her heart can’t, and he knows it, his mouth punishing as their tongues meet and teeth collide.

She whimpers, the noise setting him off like a horn signalling the hounds, and Alfie has her on her back before her mind can even begin to process what just happened. Livy clings to his broad shoulders, feeling small and adrift but safe in his arms. Always.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, panting roughly against her skin, and she doesn’t argue because right now, she is. Alfie drags his teeth down her collarbone, across the top of her breasts, before finding a pink nipple and drawing it into his mouth.

“Mine,” he repeats, biting possessively at the delicate bud, making her hiss.

Livy winds her legs tight around his hips and arches her back, an invitation Alfie wastes no time accepting, his patience long since depleted. He takes his fully erect cock in hand and enters her with one smooth stroke. They both moan as she adjusts to the sudden fullness, but her body is hot and slick, quickly stretching to accommodate his considerable girth. He fucks her hard and long, driving her deep into the mattress until Livy can barely think. But that’s just how she likes it. She’s blind and deaf to everything but the pressure building between her thighs, and now she’s calling his name, repeating it softly, just like a prayer.

“Alfie, Alfie, Alfie—“

“Look at me,” he commands, cutting her off, and Livy’s grateful because she’s so fucking overwhelmed that she can barely function. Her eyes meet his, somewhat desperately, and he seems to understand. His tone softens.

“Good girl,” Alfie mutters gently, his eyes maintaining contact as his hips maintain their rhythm. Livy whines, unable to control the sounds escaping from her throat. “I’ve got you, pet,” he soothes, shifting his weight onto one arm and freeing the other to expertly circle her clit with firm strokes. She bucks instinctively, chasing the light, her mind pleasantly blank to everything but him.

“That’s it, love,” he encourages, and she can feel the timbre of his voice like he’s humming between her legs. “Come for me, now. That’s right, that’s my good girl.”

His words push her over the edge. Livy loses herself completely, legs shaking with the force of her orgasm, muscles twitching as she milks every inch of him. Alfie closes his eyes and follows her, cursing under his breath as his release sweeps over him, pouring himself deep inside her warm and welcoming body before finally collapsing against her.

— • — • —

“Alfie, darling?”

“Yes, love?”

“Shouldn’t you … be somewhere by now?”

Livy rolls in his arms and looks him over somewhat cautiously. The sun is rising high in the sky, and with it comes the promise of a beautiful day. But Alfie’s not usually one to hang around and admire it. In fact, she can’t ever recall seeing him get such a late start to the day.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, pet?” Alfie cocks his eyebrow and frowns down at her, still naked and sprawled against him. “‘Cause, it sounds a lot like you’re trying to kick a man out of his own fucking bed.”

“Oh, Alfie. Don’t start pouting again.” Livy anticipates his response and lifts a finger to his mouth, quickly silencing him before he can protest. “Un-uh,” she giggles. “I know you like to pretend that you don’t pout, but these lips give you away. They were made for it, darling.”

Alfie stares at her, slightly dumbfounded, before gently pushing her hand away.

“You should know, sweetheart, that I’ve shot people for a lot fucking less.” He shakes his head. “This is what I get for letting you sleep in my bed, innit?”

“Pfft. Let me sleep in your bed?” Livy asks incredulously, sliding a hand across his bare hip as if to make a point. “You’ve been waiting for this since the moment I moved in across the hall. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Fucking hell,” Alfie mutters in defeat before rolling his eyes to the ceiling like he’s looking for support. Or patience. Or a weapon.

Livy smirks and takes pity on him, reaching up to kiss his rough cheek. “I’m absolutely thrilled that you’re still here,” she teases softly. “Just surprised, that’s all, darling.”

He glances down at her, and she watches as his warm eyes shift slowly from annoyance to amusement.

“Right, well, you see, pet,” Alfie begins, and Livy bites back a groan, recognising the start of a story that will undoubtedly be as confusing as it is convoluted. “A long fucking time ago, there was this bloke named Yonah, yeah? And my people, we believe that god himself descended from the heavens so they could have a little chat.”

“Ok …,” says Livy, her tone polite, if not somewhat hesitant. She considers ringing Edna for tea but decides to spare the poor woman.

“God asked Yonah to go to this other town, Nineveh, because the people there … well, they were being right cunts.” Alfie rests back against the pillows and strokes his beard, clearly enjoying himself. “But Yonah didn’t want to go, so he fucks off on this big boat. You hear that, pet? The man thinks he can outrun god himself.”

“Well, I suppose—“

“So he’s on this fucking boat, yeah, and all hell breaks loose.” Alfie continues as if he didn’t hear her, his voice rising with every word. “There’s a raging storm, and everyone thinks they’re going to die. And what do you think the people do?”

“Um … pray?”

“Nah, love. It’s fucking simple, innit? They toss Yonah off the boat.” Alfie looks exceedingly pleased with this development. “The fucker is gone, and the sun comes out.”

“Well, that’s a nice story, darling. Now should we get some breakfast or—“

“That’s not the half of it, love. Yonah goes over the side, and then he’s swallowed by a big fucking fish.”

“A fish,” deadpans Livy.

“Yeah, well, it’s a big fish, pet. And Yonah sits there for three fucking days praying to god before the fucker spits him out, so he can go to Nineveh and get on with what he should have done in the first fucking place. Do you see what I’m saying, love?”

Livy pulls herself up on her knees and straddles his lap, looking him straight in the eye.

“Alfie, love. I haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re on about.”

“It’s about redemption, innit,” he explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I may have done some stupid shit, trying to send you away. I know that yeah? But fucking lucky for me, my god believes in second chances. Says it right here.” Without turning to look, Alfie taps heavily against a worn copy of the Torah on his bedside table.

“Right, so I’m not going to the bakery today,” he continues, his hands settling on her hips and squeezing slightly. “I’m staying here instead. That alright with you, pet?”

Livy smiles at his earnest expression (oddly reminiscent of Cyril proudly presenting her with a stick during one of their walks). It’s sweet and sincere and entirely out of character, making her heart flutter, and she knows without a shadow of a doubt that she should absolutely, unquestionably, categorically behave herself if she ever wants to see that look on his face again.

But she just can’t resist …

“So you’re telling me a big fish spat you out, Mr Solomons?”

“Oh for fucks sake, Livy,” Alfie growls, throwing his hands in the air. The crease between his brows returns, and she has to fight the urge to kiss it away. “Fine. Yeah, pet. I hear I’m a bit salty.”

He continues to grumble under his breath—“trying to profess a profound fucking emotion”—as Livy dissolves into giggles. Her eyes light up with mischief, and she licks her lips before slowly sliding down his lap.

“Salty, eh? Hmm … I think I’ll be the judge of that, darling.”

And, well, that’s certainly one way to shut Alfie up for a bit, now isn’t it?

— • — • —

Livy snuggles into his side, enjoying the warmth of his body along with the roaring fire.

They’re curled together on a dark navy lounge, soft, crushed, and perfectly worn. It reminds her of him, actually. Cyril is resting peacefully by their feet, and it’s the perfect end to what’s been a beautiful, if not slightly confusing, day. Livy’s still not sure how she feels about … well, everything. But she decided to stop thinking and just enjoy her large glass of Solomons’ finest run.

Unfortunately, Alfie has other ideas.

“Right, so we need to talk about Sabini, love.”

Livy chokes on her drink, coughing as the amber liquid burns her nostrils. Alfie rubs her back, somewhat automatically, as if caring for her comes as naturally as breathing. She takes a minute to get herself together.

“Alfie…,” she complains once she’s capable of speaking. “Can we please talk about anything else, darling?”

He slides two fingers under her chin, tilting her face to meet his. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Livy knows he’s about to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear.

“Listen, pet. I don’t want to talk about the fucking wop either. But I’ve had men out looking for days, and there’s no sign of him.” Alfie pauses, tenderly brushing his thumb along her lips before dropping his voice. “It’s not safe for you, love. Not right now.”

He stares at her, brow wrinkled with obvious concern, but Livy can only roll her eyes as she smacks his hand away.

“We’ve talked about this, Alfie. I’m not going anywhere, and we’re not having this discussion again.”

“Livy,” he warns—

“No. Nope. Absolutely not. And that tone won’t work on me, darling. I’m not one of your bakers.”

“Don’t I know it,” Alfie snorts. “And it’s a good fucking thing—you’d be drunk off your tits all day.”

“Alfie!”

Livy squeals and huffs and crosses her arms in a dramatic display designed to hide her amusement. But, of course, not much gets past the King of Camden Town. He smirks, looking intolerable as always.

“You’re being very ungentlemanlike this evening,” she admonishes, trying to recover lost ground.

“Just how you like it,” Alfie shoots back, winking as he reaches around to pinch her ample bottom. Livy yelps before scrunching her nose. She searches for a witty response, but what can she say?

He’s right, after all.

“Listen, love,” he continues, interrupting her thoughts, his tone now serious as he pulls her into his lap. “I said I wouldn’t send you away again, and I mean it. But maybe you could visit some friends … just for a bit while I sort out this mess.”

“Visit friends?” repeats Livy, looking confused.

“Yeah,” Alfie answers somewhat reluctantly. “It fucking pains me to say this, love. It really fucking does. But Tom mentioned you know one of the Lee birds—“

“Esme?” Livy asks, her mind spinning as she puts together the pieces. “You want me to go to Birmingham? With the Shelbys?”

“Yeah, pet,” he grumbles, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “I’m not happy about it. But you’ll be safe there; the gypsies control every inch of that hellhole. ‘Course, your lungs will rot, and you’ll wake every fucking morning asking yourself, ‘is this hell?’ but at least you’ll be safe until the Italian problem is taken care of.”

“And how exactly will you do that?”

Alfie shoots her a hard look.

“What? If you’re going to send me away—“

“I’m not sending you away—“

“If you’re going to send me away,” she repeats, matching his stare with one of her own, “then I deserve to know more about your plan.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re a pain in the fucking arse, love?” he asks dryly.

“Of course. Now get on with it, Alfie.”

He leans against the back of the sofa and rubs his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh before finally giving in.

“Epsom, love. We’re going to take out his bookies and burn their fucking licenses. If he shows up, I’ll shoot him in the face. If not, he’ll be run out of town. End of fucking story.

“Is that enough information for you, princess?” he asks, sitting up and pulling her closer. “I should put you to work as a fucking spy—after you go to Birmingham.”

Livy cocks her head and considers arguing, just to remind him that she’s her own woman; thank you very much. But it’s late, she’s pleasantly tipsy, and he's ridiculously attractive when he’s grumpy.

“Well, I would like to see Esme … and since you asked so nicely. Fine. But I’m not staying too long, Alfie. I mean it.”

“Epsom is in one week, pet. I’ll take care of business and then bring you back from that shit hole myself.”

“Promise?” she asks, her fingers already working the buttons of his shirt.

“Cross my heart, love.”

A/N: Did you catch the nod to Tommy from season 1, episode 6? In my head, there are definitely some parallels between Tommy and Livy—they both view every day as a “bonus” and have unhealthy coping mechanisms for dealing with their trauma. (Him: relentless ambition, her: relentless optimism. Both are incapable of rest because slowing down means facing their demons.)

Also, I hope the religious references don’t offend anyone. I’m actually an atheist, and I don’t know much about religion at all (I had to watch a kids’ educational video to learn about the story of Yonah!). But I find the contrast between Alfie (whose identity as a Jew is obviously a big part of his character) and Livy (also an atheist, another Tommy parallel) interesting to explore.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! x

#alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #tom hardy #livy x alfie

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otpcutie · 1 year

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I posted 11,170 times in 2022

That's 1,005 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (0%)

11,116 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@possibleplatypus

@hot-multifandom-mess

@gayspacesprinkles

@seidryewmystic

@stargazing-enby

I tagged 3,829 of my posts in 2022

#little prince🧸✨ - 584 posts

#important - 549 posts

#aspec feels - 380 posts

#stucky faves - 305 posts

#queer feels - 270 posts

#nd feels - 248 posts

#bucky faves - 223 posts

#words to live by - 170 posts

#spoonie feels - 151 posts

#faves - 109 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

My Top Posts in 2022:

A Learning Curve (1.9k)

Summary (Winteriron, M): Bucky and Tony deal with the emotional aftermath of their first fight.

Contains: A/B/O, D/s, Alpha Bucky, Omega Tony, Daddy Bucky, brat Tony, eh/c, angst with a happy ending (more on AO3)

A/N: @sunshineailin this includes your prompt, “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

@mcukinkbingo fill: A/B/O scent marking / @afgomegaversebingo fill: Omega!Tony / @badthingshappenbingo fill: please don’t leave me.

Preview below:

The air was thick with the scent of emotional turmoil. Bucky swore he could taste it at the back of his throat, bitter and unyielding.

It was the longest his partner had been silent since they’d moved in together, and it was… unnerving, to say the least. The loss added to the hollow feeling that had settled in his chest.

Usually, they balanced each other out in that way.

Tony was constantly chatting and Bucky thought it was the most endearing thing, content to listen to his Omega talk for hours. Especially about his passions. It made his face and everything about him light up beautifully.

Bucky on the other hand was quiet and more reserved. The strong silent type. When he did talk it was obvious Bucky was an observant and insightful person, who never missed much.

It had been almost funny to Tony back then, meeting an Alpha who actually listened to other people and didn’t try to take charge of every conversation.

♥︎ Continue on AO3 ♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

52 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Click for better quality. Do not repost.

It was about time I drew my fave aro(ace)💚🤍🖤

♥︎ Also on AO3 ♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

55 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

Reel Him In

Summary (Stucky, M): Bucky and Steve are invited to a costume party. Bucky wears a risqué Wonder Woman outfit, intentionally grinding Steve’s brain to a halt.

Click for better quality. Do not repost.

@anyfandomfluffbingo fill: costume party / @buckybarnesbingo fill: damsels (and others) in distress / @mcukinkbingo fill: free space / @lgbtqbingo fill: free space.

♥︎ Also on AO3 ♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

61 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

Bloom

Drarry Discord Drabble/Drawble Challenge, January. Prompt: ‘glass’, art nouveau, 222 word restriction.

A/N: Draco is a transwomen, who chooses to transition and keep her birth name.

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Read below [AO3]:

Before Harry’s eyes, Draco had shattered like broken glass. She’d told Harry something she had suspected about herself for a long time but had repressed, until she couldn’t anymore. That she was a woman. Harry’s love never wavered and he saw her blossom, able to express herself and embrace her womanhood. It unlocked a lightness in Draco, as though she could finally breathe.

Lightly, Harry would brush his fingers through Draco’s growing hair and admire her painted lips. She found a new way to show Harry how much she loved him, by leaving a kiss imprint on his cheek. He didn’t have the heart to wipe it off.

Oh. Harry was hardly able to get out much else when he’d first seen Draco in a dress. The dress looked gorgeous on her, but… it was Draco’s blinding smile that had his heart almost bursting out of his chest. Hopelessly, he’d fallen even more in love.

Obedience… Draco couldn’t stomach that anymore. She could still picture her father’s expression—Harry wished he’d seen it too—when she told him, “This is who I am and I’m not hiding for your, or anyone else’s benefit anymore.” And completely set herself free.

More than anything, Draco finally felt at peace with herself and while Harry would always be her home, she’d made her body a home too.

♥︎ My Masterlist ♥︎

70 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Made for a @stuckybingo moodboard party game. I used the prompts: yellow, pets, lazy and plants🌻💛

My masterlist

87 notes - Posted October 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #otpcutie talks #otpcutie

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rouge-the-bat · 2 years

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19, 21, 23, 32? 💖

( from this ask prompt list, if anyone wants to send more ;3 )

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

absolutely !!! i rarely paint my nails anymore but i have a biig collection of different colors n i liked trying to make my own patterns n stuff with em :3 would be kinda messy since i dont like. have any sort of Nail Decorating Tools so itd just be me trying to do stuff with the normal thick nailpolish brushes and like. a toothpick lol. but i think they still looked nice !! itd be fun to try out doing someone elses nails!

21. something you’ve kept since childhood?

honestly like. a shit ton of things hkdhjfhd in this family we rarely get rid of older stuff (even tho we probably should... we got too much shit hfkshfk) so i have a lot of stuff from my childhood, so many toys (some of which are broken and dont work anymore jfkdjfk) and i have a collection of pokemon plushies ive been building up for yeaaarrs. i also got a box of my webkinz plushies somewhere, probably in storage. lowkey kinda wanna collect more of them again lol

23. how do you feel about chilly weather?

LOVE it. chilly weather is my all time fave, its SUCH a comfort for me. winter is my favorite season bc the cold air just makes me so happyyyy. perfect weather to get comfy cozy. if its snowing then its even better bc then i can play in it, or watch how pretty it looks and makes the ground all sparkly, and i can make snow cream!!! and im always in the mood to think about cuddly ship stuff but cold weather puts me even more in the mood for that loll

32. do you have a favorite towel?

when i was little i did, it was a pink n black hannah montana towel lol. i think we still have it ??? just gets cycled through use with the rest of the towels i think. tbh i would love to get more themed towels, like a shadow or hiei one... pink n lovecore towels would be perfect also. god id love to have only lovecore towels in my house thatd be so rad

#starry asks #uwu these r so fun to do hehe

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killuaisaprincess · 2 years

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hold me in your arms like a prison

Read the rest here! 💕 I just really want Ki in cute dresses and skirts, and Gon thinking he’s pretty cuz he is! And Ki has trauma! And Gon saving Ki and carrying him ofc! My fave niches. AHHH. KI IS JUST MY BABEY AND HES BABEY AND I LOVE HIM AND HE DESERVES LOVE.

His heart won’t stop pounding…

Killua shifts in place, trying to avoid the people shuffling around the bustling street, clicking his heels together, staring at the white straps of his sandals, contrasting against his fair skin.

Gon said he would meet Killua in the park…

So he’s waiting just outside where the grass and the sidewalk's concrete meet.

Killua peers down, cradling the box he’s holding with the cake he made in it, a sigh caught in his throat that feels so tight…

A shiver runs down his spine as a breeze lifts the edges of his pastel pink ruffled skirt, the wind brushing against his bare arms.

He wonders if…

He looks stupid…

He’s used to wearing baggy clothes that hide his scars and bruises… it makes him feel insecure. Standing here with his knees and his arms and his ankles all exposed…

Alluka had said he looked adorable and that he was worrying too much. There was a sad twinkle in her eye as she handed him her puffed white short sleeve blouse, saying it was his now; and that she’s grown out of that style anyway.

They used to dress together in those cute fashions, but…

He can still recall the hurtful words that make stinging tears form in his eyes, that he blinks away furiously, growling. What does he care what that idiot said?!

Why does he still care…

Who cares if his scars are hideous? There aren’t bruises anymore… he doesn’t have to hide…

But…

“KILLUA!”

He almost jumps, but the voice doesn’t sound angry, and he sees a bright neon green headed his way and his face burns.

“Killua!”

Gon skids right to a stop in front of him, grinning from ear to ear, his expression morphing to one Killua can’t figure out, those dark thick eyebrows of Gon’s furrowed, and lips open in the shape of an ‘o’.

Did he look that bad…?

Gon shakes his head, clearing his throat, laughing sheepishly.

“Wow. You... You’re very pretty. I mean, you’re always very pretty, I mean- sorry it took me so long, my Aunt was busy, and I was lending her a hand.”

Killua blinks, his chest and cheeks and the back of his neck all burn, even the tips of his ears feel like they are set ablaze, and his blood roars in his ears.

Gon was just being nice… just being nice…

“D-don’t say something so embarrassing!”

Especially if it’s not true…

He stomps off into the grass, holding the box closer to his chest, hoping it’ll shield his heart from jumping out, keeping his chin tilted down, his bangs brushing into his eyes, some strands coming loose from a clip in his hair with sakura flowers.

Gon’s yelling from behind him about how it’s true, and Killua walks faster until he spots a tree, sinking into the grass and hugging his knees close to his chest, gripping the box harshly.

Why does he have to feel this way… like he’s ill…? Like he’s… lovesick…

“Killua-!”

Gon leans before him, worry painted across his features, and Killua’s heart wavers again, and he shoves the box into Gon’s arms.

“Here, stupid. I-it’s the cake… I…”

He bites his lower lip, looking at a patch of grass, his cheeks flushed red.

I hope you like it…

Gon reacts like the most giant dog he’s ever seen getting a bone, grabbing it carefully but with a childlike happiness, smiling at Killua.

“Thank you, Killua. I’m sure it’s gonna be great!”

—

Killua feels so anxious the entire time Gon is eating the first slice; wondering if he placed the strawberry’s perfectly or why he even cares if he did. But what if… Gon thinks it’s gross…?

“This is better than my Aunt Mito’s!”

A laugh is stifled in his throat, an eyebrow raised, and all the tension seems to slip from his body for a moment.

“Really? I feel bad for your poor aunt.”

Gon rushes to explain, waving his arms back and forth in panic, and Killua can’t help but laugh, getting a slice for himself.

—

“You got something…”

The warm touch of Gon’s thumb, the rough surface rubs near his lip, and his heart catapults out of his chest, his head spinning, his hands clammy.

The tension comes back to his body tenfold.

It’s hard to breathe. The pressure weighs down on his lungs.

It aches. His heart. He knows Gon won’t ever love someone useless, worthless like him, it hurts so much, but he also yearns for it. Gon is nice like no one other. No one besides from Alluka has ever cared about him.

His hands shake so much he has to set the plate down, doubling over, squeezing his eyes shut.

No. He doesn’t want to love.

“Killua?”

Gon’s voice is deep and gruff yet so kind; he slips farther, biting back a whine, his body jolting as Gon places a large hand on his shoulder, the warmth burning his skin.

His heart won’t calm down… it feels like it’s beating out his chest. He feels like he’s gonna die. He doesn’t want to feel like this. No one can ever love him… why does he…

“Killua, are you okay?”

It hurts…

“My heart hurts…”

A small wail leaves his lips before he can stop it.

It hurts. Why does Gon have to be so kind?

The world around him blurs with a film of hot salty tears.

Killua hates it. How his breath is taken away the moment he’s surrounded in that warmth again, strong arms lifting him off the ground.

He can’t hear anything over the beating of his heart, instinctively leaning down and burying his face in Gon’s chest.

Gon was always so warm.

Loud honks and curses are muffled in his ears, long thin digits digging into Gon’s jacket.

Say something.

It’s all a mix of noise that makes his head pound.

Gon is yelling worried words, and people are cursing at Gon.

Say something.

He blinks away tears furiously, gripping tighter; all the noise is overwhelming, Gon’s footsteps against the road seeming to shake the ground with force.

Say something…

His tongue feels useless, just a pink blob of flesh in his mouth, and he leans as far as he can into Gon.

He’s…

—

“I’m telling you he’s fine!”

Leorio looks two seconds away from throwing his table at Gon, and Killua can’t help but shrink.

This is his fault…

“Are you sure?!”

Gon paces around the room back and forth, his eyebrows pinched down, his arms crossed.

“Yes! I’ve checked his heart five times! I checked all his vitals! Calm your ass down!”

Leorio mutters something about Gon’s stubbornness and how he didn’t go to college for a million years to get a degree for this.

Gon opens his mouth, stomping over to Leorio’s desk, grabbing one of the papers off, staring at it as if he could even remotely understand it.

“Are you sure-?!”

“G-Gon…”

Killua can feel the shift of eyes on his in an instant; it makes him squirm; he digs his fingers into his skin, staring at the white tiled floor.

“The old man is right. I-I just had a panic attack…”

How could Gon care so much about him…?

He’s…

“Oh, thank God.”

Shouldn’t he be mad? Shouldn’t he be asking Killua why he had one? He ruined their date. Again.

Instead, when glassy blue eyes flicker up, he only sees relief wash over Gon’s features.

Killua grabs the metal chair, so harshly his knuckles turn white. He stands up shakily, his vision tilting.

“Wow! Wow! Hey!”

He hears Leorio screeching, but his focus splinters to Gon.

“I-I’m sorry…”

He breaks his skin with his nails, the pain making him flinch, a heavy choked out breath caught in his throat.

He can’t-

“Killua.”

He can’t.

“I’m sorry- I… I-“

He’s such a burden…

‘You don’t need anyone else but me, K. No one else would want you.’

He’s worthless, hideous. He shifts, and the straps of his sandals dig into his ankle, turning porcelain flesh cherry red.

Gon reaches out, and Killua flinches; the look that passes by Gon’s face, Killua isn’t sure what it even is. Anger? Worry? Hurt? Hate?

Hate.

His stomach sinks, his body shaking with tremors, the room feels too small.

He bolts, Gon’s fingers brush up against the soft flesh of his wrist for a moment, one too long, and he slams the door open, shoving past people, a hurricane of white and blues pounding against his head. It’s all mixing in bright light.

Not again. Not this again.

It hurts.

He stops.

Bodies brush up against his thin frame, and his legs shake; he sinks back against the wall, drawing his hands into the folds of his skirt, sliding down to the floor.

He tugs his legs up, letting his knees knock together, wisps of hair falling into his eyes.

Don’t run. Don’t cry. He swallows down a hiccup, keeping his eyes peeled on the floor.

A hand comes into his vision, and he jumps. Even though he should just take it, whatever pain awaits him.

It tugs away slowly, and Killua keeps his gaze away. His throat and ears burn, a throbbing pointed headache forming in the middle of his forehead as he blinks away tears.

“Killua.”

“Gon…”

That’s right; he owed Gon a proper apology; he couldn’t run away from it all, even if it meant pain… even if it meant a beer bottle to the head…

“I’m-”

He tilts his head up, expecting Gon to be annoyed, angry, anything, but there isn’t that look. Just a sad smile and a hard-set gaze of determination.

“Killua. You’re my princess in another castle. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He stops, his smile turning into a sheepish grin, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “You don’t even have to make me a cake; I want to help you.”

Why?

His heart feels a dull ache, but there’s a warmth that pulses through his veins, his face hot.

“I wanted to…”

Killua chews on his lower lip, burying his face into his knees, and when that warm hand rests on his back, he doesn’t flinch.

“I wanted to make it for you, you idiot.”

He doesn’t know what to do with these feelings… they’re wrong.

His chest feels so funny…

Gon lets out a laugh that rumbles from his chest and makes Killua flush, shyly peeking his head out, Gon offering him his hand.

His logical thought is to refuse it, to take it hesitantly.

He collides into Gon’s chest instead, Gon’s hand catching around his waist. Gon still smells like oil, even with the air of medicine and potted plants.

Idiot…

He’s so fucking dumb!

His whole body feels warm with shame, but Gon doesn’t shove him back; instead, he picks him up, and Killua can feel the shift of Gon’s movement, careful, gentle, yet strong, this is bad. He can’t sink into this. Why… does he want this…?

Why does he want Gon to hold him?

He shouldn’t want this… It’s wrong for him to want anything; he didn’t deserve anything.

There’s a hesitance in his movements, slow, scared, like a stray kitten accepting food.

Killua reaches up and slowly wraps his arms around Gon’s neck, and Gon’s eyes go wide and seem to light up, as if they weren’t a light in the darkness already. Killua looks away before he can see anything else, lowering his chin.

He feels safe…

Pressing his face into Gon’s chest, just peeking to see Gon walk and shuffle by people, holding Killua as if he’s something precious, something he has to protect.

No one… thinks he’s something precious, though…

Killua swallows a lump in his throat, dropping his arms from Gon’s neck, and gripping Gon’s jacket.

“You make me feel safe…”

With all the noise around, he doesn’t know if Gon hears it, isn’t even sure if he wants Gon to hear, but…

Gon shifts him closer, and Killua closes his eyes, feeling comforted and warm in Gon’s arms.

#hxh #Hunter X Hunter #killua hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter killua #Gon #Gon hxh #Gonkillu #gonkillu supremacy #Gon x Killua #Gon Freecss #killua #Killua Zoldyck #Killua hxh #KI IN CUTE DRESSES AND SKIRTS 😤#Why am I posting chapter 6 when I haven’t posted the first five? Idk! Cuz I wrote it and I like it and it’s new 😤#Well ofc I like it even if my stoires aren’t anything special they always will be to me cuz they’re my niche 😤#I hope read more works on mobile if not I am sorry cuz ah #I couldn’t decide on what section to pick so it’s all here ehehehe #;windy’s stuff

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ciaraloves · 3 years

Text

to wake up a beast

got some requests on ao3 for more of our fave chaos bois, Kaz x Nikolai so here please accept my short offering. i hope you enjoy! I still haven’t read King of Scars so there’s no spoilers for that, and some info might be outdated, particularly pertaining to Nikolai.

[image description at the end]

Nikolai feels the darkness sweep over him. It tastes like burnt rubber, invades him like thick smog, presses against his skin like rose thorns. He can’t see, he can barely even breathe. His limbs ache, bon stretched, skin ripping. He knows he has turned into beast, a perfect replica of his mind. He can feel the leather of grown wings, piercing his back and shaking at the cold air. His nails— well manicured, polished to mirror shine— are now long and sharp enough to slice through tree bark. He is monster. He will go untamed.

“NIKOLAI!”

And he is prince, and he is present, and he is human. His breathing is too sharp, but he is breathing. The light is too bright, but he can see it. His nails dig into his palms, but they are short and clean.

“Where did you go?” A voice, the voice that screamed his name like their fear was tangible.

He can’t speak, he doesn’t even know what words mean. A heavy tongue sits in his mouth, not quite his own.

“Where did you go?” They say again, so scratchy.

He shakes his head, trying to say he cant speak, trying to say he doesn’t know, trying to—

There are no hands touching him, and no lips pressed to his skin but he can feel love encompassing the room, candle glow soft.

Nikolai takes a breath, takes a hundred. His heart steadies back to its cage, the bars rattling only occasionally. And then he finally turns to Kaz.

“Just a nightmare.”

“Again?” There’s so much wide eyed worry in his boyfriend’s voice it makes it hard to think.

“I just—” He gestures helplessly, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what triggers them.” Even he can hear how tired he is. Exhaustion has made its home in his veins.

Kaz doesn’t offer any words of comfort and the King is grateful. They both know what drowning feels like, both know that some nights are ripe with nightmares, and some days ripe with terror and nothing but a whiff of burning wood could set it all off.

“Maybe we should take the day off tomorrow,” He scrubs a hand over his face, looks over. Black eyes blink at him, twinkling with the light of the moon that peaks through their opened balcony doors. Black hair, usually immaculate during the day, is now messy and haphazard. A sight only he is privileged enough to see. A wave of love so strong it burns out the lingering darkness washes through his body.

“You know we cannot.” Kaz shakes his head, eyes closing briefly as his mind works a thousand miles a minute. “You as the King and me as the A King, it will be enough to shut down the continent.”

“Think so highly of us, Mr Brekker?” He teases.

His boyfriend gives him a deadpanned look, shuffling only slightly closer so they now share body heat. Skin does not press together.

A few strands of hair loosen themselves from Kaz’s mess and fall over his forehead. Nikolai wants to take a thousand pictures. Wants to paint the moment into permanency.

“I am simply stating what is true.”

“We have delegates, and it’s not like we’ll be taking a week off? One day can’t possibly kill anyone.”

There’s an exasperated sigh, it makes Nikolai want to giggle. Above all else he enjoys being the distraction to his The Barrel King’s hard working attitude.

“Aw come on, zhizn moya,” He makes his emerald green eyes widen with pleading. “Imagine how fun it’ll be to spend a whole day looking at this beautiful face?”

There’s a twitch of those lips, a gentle pink stain across brown cheeks. “You are a menace.”

“But I'm your menace.” He feels butterfly light.

“You have a meeting with the Ketterdam officials tomorrow.”

Nikolai runs through his diary in his head, and then gives his boyfriend a lazy smile. “I can move it to the day after, I have a gap at noon.”

“I have to check on my clubs tomorrow, make sure they’re keeping up with procedure.”

“You can get any one of your people to do that and deliver messages to those who dare defy you.” His voice goes all mocking deep, happiness stitching itself into their bed sheets.

Kaz’s hair is still on his forehead. He watches the strands shift as they stare at each other, him with a smile too big to contain, Kaz with eyes too bright to snuff.

“Troublemaker.” The tease is familiar, a caress of nickname and love. There is nothing that exists between their gaze, no space or worry or obligation. They are simply Kaz and Nikolai. They are simply each other.

“Fine.” The King of Ketterdam concedes and Nikolai bursts into laughter.

“Oh you do know how to make me happy, Brekker,” He shakes with amusement.

“I'm doing this for my own happiness.” He scrunches his nose. The strands of hair cover his eye.

“And how would that work?”

“If you’re happy then I'm happy so really I'm just inadvertently using you.”

“Then keep using me Kaz.” His laughter is soft now, holding them close. And Nikolai can no longer keep his hands to himself. “May i?” He nods at the black hair, still in the way, in his boyfriend’s face.

They stare at each other for a moment, packed high with feeling and wishing and wanting. A simple nod.

He reaches his hand up, his calcite skin a wonderful contrast to Kaz’s deep brown, and gently, so so gently, brushes his fingers across a warm forehead. He pushes the hair back, runs his fingers through the mop of black, watches closely as a breath hitches. His fingers find the nape of a neck, trace it. A shoulder, run across it. Bed sheets, cling to it.

Their eyes are fire, molten and blazing. Where ashes once warmed now wood is an inferno.

“You are so beautiful.” He breathes.

“Get some sleep.” Kaz replies. And Nikolai knows he is wanted. “We’re going to the diner tomorrow.” And Nikolai knows he is needed. The pillow that usually separates them is shoved to the foot of their bed. And Nikolai knows he is loved.

He feels wild and rosied and kingly as he lays his head back down. He can feel body heat seeping into his bared back and the smile on his face as he drifts into a better sleep makes even his dreams seem dull. Nikolai lets the morning light hold him.

----------------------------------------------------------

[image id: tumblr post by @/mashamorevna that reads,

“ “But you have to satisfy the monster. The monster has loved you for longer than anyone else.”// -Florence Welch, Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry”

end id]

#Kaz x Nikolai #Nikolai x Kaz #Kaz Brekker/Nikolai Lantsov #kazolai #there's no way thats their ship name????/#Six of Crows #shadow & bone #Kaz Brekker #Nikolai Lantsov #TLYJ fanfic

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s-fellows-art · 3 years

Text

Simplified tips on how to improve your art.

.putting under cut because its long but thats cause i explain these and not just list stuff.

1) Flip/mirror your canvas when working. - it allows you see anatomy and other errors you may overlook.

2) before uploading look at the image on a different screen or the next day. - this give you time away from it, and as tempting as it is to upload as soon as your done, if you wait you will see stuff you can improve on and be able to look at it with “ fresh” eyes.

3) Stop shading with black or grey scale colors- shading with inly these colors make the imAge look muddy, if you shade with a color that is a darker hue of the same color your adding shading to it one in the same tempters ( warm= R Y O cool = B G I V on the Rainbow ) you get more vibrant art and you don’t muddy what your working on.

4) Learn to grey scale BEFORE coloring as a draft p2- learning how to shade in black and white can help you identify lighting points and details. When digital painting simplifying something out to a grey scale can help you keep track of what your doing.

5) Use the tools you have access too- References to learn anatomy , taking time to learn amniotomy will help you a lot in the long term, but doing everything off the top of your head your bond to get something wrong early on, or even later on in art. Use the sharpen tool around highlights if your program offers it. It saves time. Also play with your filters and line art colors. These will ad detail to your work and takes less time. If you mess around with the brushes in your program and stuff before starting it will help you later on. Its not cheating professionals use it all the time.

6) practice drawing random stuff- it teaches you the shapes and trains your hand ti make the strokes/motions needed for basically everything. Art studies can be very helpful. Even if it feels stupid drawing 500 eyes on a note pad, it helps.

7) Simple is good, complex is chaos- over complex art is hard to look at because your not sure what to focus on so the areas you want the eye to go to is where you should focus your details rather then make every single little thing detailed. Another way to do this is to brighten the colors where you want the eye to go at first glance in an image, but make the other areas muted in color, or blurred slightly.

8) Don’t be afraid to look up tutorials and take breaks if you get stuck - I personally only learned how to shade faces from watching makeup tutorials. And there is nothing shameful in not knowing how to do something and needing to look it up or ask, its how you learn you can just power you way through it all the time, and somethings your wasting your time if you do for something not worth it in the end run. Also the act if stepping back and away to go do something else is sometimes all you need, sometimes looking at the same file over and over again can be mentally exhausting. Take a break. Drink some water. Stretch your wrists. Look away from it for a while then come back.

9) Stretch your wrists before working- save your self years if pain trust me. I regret not doing this. Also draw from your shoulder not your wrist unless detailing, less stress on your arm and more precision.

10) Use different line thicknesses - i find using thicker lines for areas that touch the outer parts of your drawing or more important areas, and using thinner for detailing adds a bit of detail and quality to your work even if the line art isn’t clean. Inner face parts (other then the top bracket of the eyes), lines between fingers, lines marking clothing folds, and things like that should be done in thinner lines then eyebrows and what not.

Next two some will role your eyes at but honestly makes a huge difference, even if you got to force it at first. Its hard to break a bad habit.

11) don’t look for flaws in your work, look for what you like about it,- if your constantly pointing out what is wring with what you are doing your not gonna go any where, bare minimum go “ okay im not too happy about this, lets see how we can improve it” instead if “ this looks like garbage I hate it”. If you stay in the mentality of I don’t like this , your never gonna be happy with what your making or improve because subconsciously your telling you self you can’t. This slight change in mind set of trying to find at least one thing you like will make a big difference in the long run because slowly you will be moving towards finding a style your comfortable with and going from there, you will be finding things you

12) don’t compare you self to other artist- its one thing to want to take influence in your fave artist, its another to constantly out yourself down because your not like them. Everyone art started as shit. Everyone. We all were that crappy 1 year old can barely hold a pen person at one point. like learning how to read and write or ride a bike.... No one starts as a perfect artists, its something you learn, so comparing your self to people around you is not gonna help you improve and putting yourself down just because your not perfect yet. Even if its something as little as “im happy I finally finished this” is better then “I wish i was like _”. You are slowly moving towards a goal, some people just move quicker then others because they learn different techniques, instead if putting energy into hating everything you do why not try to learn how the people you like the art of got there by learning some techniques your self?

13) Ignore the notes enjoy the journey- Regardless , you making art is amazing in itself . Its something only you have made. There may be other things like it but its not like how you did. Your unique and honestly ignore the notes, if your constantly pushing yourself based off of numbers, your gonna burn your self out and give your self impossible expectations to try to complete. Everyone has different tasted and are not always gonna like what you do the same way, if at all, there is nothing wrong with what you made you simply just can’ please everyone and its not your job to. The notes are a bonus, not a goal, you don’t have to try to compete for them the only person you have to create for for is you. Do what ever the hell you want and if people like it, great, if they don’, then they like a different cup of tea then yours, don’s make it bad tea. Edit 1 as i thought of more : also the reason your sketch looks better then your line art is because your line art is too neet. If you use difrent thicknesses in lines (thicker for outter areas and important areas) and thinner for areas with more movment (bottom crese of eyes or outline of area around puple inner part of mouth clothing inner parts or what ever u feelis needed) it will look better because it will show your brush strokes which is what makes your sketch look good. -You can also add a 3d effect woth the red and blue outlines on areas that are not the central focus of the peice. Blurring has the same sort of effect to where it forces the eye onto the clearer area if the photo and makes it more visually intresting. Having this effect everywhere however can make stuff hard to focus on and diffcult to look at so only keep it on non focus points (most common focus point is the face so wouldnt put it there) .

Idk how helpful these will be but they made a big diff in my progress over the past year. The last bunch made a significant difference for me, though it was really hard to force myself into that mentality. And i still skip doing some of these in occasion ill admit but i hope this helps none the less.

#art tutorials #4 am sorry if theres typos #S.fellowsart #long post

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charincharge · 3 years

Text

My makeup basics:

Makeup can really be broken down into four subheadings --

FACE, EYES, LIPS, BROWS

I've found face makeup to be the most important to grownups, because everyone wants flawless-looking, even skin (especially as we age). But personally, I am having the most fun with eye makeup. So, really it's all about what you want to emphasize and what kind of makeup products excite you the most (I have a friend who could care less about eyeshadow but has probably 50 lipsticks -- to each their own!). That said, I think YouTube is still a plethora of amazing information. I've gone on SO many tutorial spirals. I love learning different techniques and seeing how people apply products. It's crazy fun.

MY HOLY GRAIL PRODUCTS: (which, honestly, take or leave all this advice, makeup is totally subjective and whatever works for you might not work for me and vice versa but there are tons of popular products and I use a fair amount of them):

FACE:

— Start with a moisturizer. I use just daily cerave. It’s cheap and helps your skin stay hydrated which is the most important thing before applying makeup!!!

-- Dr. Jart BB cream. I love that it's a buildable coverage, and it comes in two shades (fair/medium and medium/dark), and it really melts into the skin, especially on top of a moisturizer. Shockingly blendable.

-- Armani Luminous Silk Foundation. If you're looking for a splurge foundation -- this is it. I had it once and will never be able to afford it again, but if I could... I'd definitely add it to my regular rotation for full face of makeup.

-- Beauty Blender. I have tried SO many other knock offs. Just regular damn sponges. Nothing blends quite as well as a damp beauty blender. I don't know why or what's so magical about it, but it is.

-- Tarte Shape Tape Concealer. This is another beloved product. I have tried many other concealers and always come back to this one. Apparently the ELF camo concealer is a cheaper dupe but I have yet to try it.

-- Laura Mercier Translucent Setting Powder. Can be loose or compact. But this was a thing I didn't even realize I needed until I started watching tutorials and was like... why does my foundation look gross and theirs look so smooth? It's because they set it with powder. Apparently you HAVE to do that. Nyx has an excellent less expensive one, but this particular one is magic.

-- NARS Blush in ORGASM. This is a universally flattering blush in a sort of peachy gold. My mom said she hated it because it is "too glittery" but when I put it on her she was obsessed with how youthful it made her skin, and how she glowed. I’ve been wearing it for the last decade.

-- Anastasia Beverly Hills Glow Palette. If you're not into highlighter, no worries, but if you're into trying it out... this palette cannot be beat. Four shades of glowy perfection.

-- BRUSHES: A large powder brush, a medium blush brush, a small highlighter brush.

EYES:

-- MAC paint pot in PAINTERLY. This is what I use as my eye primer. I know a lot of people who just use concealer. It basically functions the same. But this stuff makes sure my eyeshadow stays put and doesn't crease, even if I'm out dancing and sweating. I’m a loyalist.

-- Stila Liquid Eyeliner or NYX Liquid Eyeliner. Both are felt tip markers and SUPER easy to learn how to use. I am now a winged liner PRO. If you're more into pencil, nothing beats the Yves Saint Laurent or NARS pencils. Makeup Forever is okay in a bind.

-- My two favorite neutral palettes (which is what everyone should start with) are the Charlotte Tillbury Pillow Talk and Urban Decay Naked Palettes. They have a wide range of colors for all skin tones and blend really well. Both shimmers and mattes.

-- Mascara is buyers preference. I love a thick voluminous lash, while I know others prefer a long lash. For voluminous recs -- Dior Blackout or Benefit Bad Gal Lash are my two faves.

-- BRUSHES: Crease brush, medium application brush, fluffy blending brush, flat liner brush

LIPS:

-- My favorite lipsticks are from NARS, MAC, KVD, and FENTY. I love the way matte lipsticks look, but they're sort of out of fashion now. Satin and gloss have come back into trend.

-- A neutral lip pencil will go well with any lipstick. Except red. Always get a red pencil for a red lip.

-- Don't forget a pencil sharpener!

-- BRUSHES: A lip brush. This is a thing, and it actually makes application so much easier, especially when using matte lipsticks.

BROWS:

-- This is the one thing that evades me. They are a mystery to me.

-- Everyone else's holy grail product is Anastasia Beverly Hills Dip Brow

Believe it or not, that is my bare bare minimum of what I need when I’m doing my makeup. Everything else is just gravy. I use all these products every day when doing my makeup looks. Now that you have your makeup and your tools... how the hell do you apply all this stuff?

This website is a really good place to start for beginners — it’s a solid compilation of some big name YouTube MUAs (Jaclyn Hill, Michelle Pham, Raye Raye, etc) and some beginners basics tutorials. I highly recommend searching for a beauty guru with the same skin tone/hair color as yourself because it’s easier to imagine how colors will look on your own face.

Other resources —

The Makeup Chair https://m.youtube.com/user/TheMakeupChair (they have an especially informative video about finding out what eye shape you have, and it totally changed my eyeshadow application game!)

Sephora https://m.youtube.com/user/sephora/videos (which focuses most on reviewing products but also has helpful tutorials, and I enjoy learning about new makeup trends from the store that carries the biggest brands)

Tati https://m.youtube.com/user/GlamLifeGuru/videos (does a lot of product reviews as well but focuses on drug store brands and lower price point makeup, she’s kind of bitchy but fun to watch)

And then last but def not least. Vogue’s YouTube has an amazing makeup series of celebrities just putting on their own makeup called Beauty Secrets. It is so much fun to watch and I’ve learned so much from just watching people go through their own routines and what they enjoy.

Okay. I think that’s probably MORE than enough to start you off with hahah. Let me know if you have any questions, concerns, thoughts. I’m more than happy to chat makeup products or techniques any time.

Tagging: @bloody-shadow666

#makeup primer #makeup #mua #ask

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dead-in-a-ditch · 2 years

Note

HI WOULD YOU MIND IF I ASKED WHAT BRUSH AND PROGRAM YOU USE? I LOVE YOUR ART ASXHSKF....

Oh thank you! I use Clip Studio Paint to draw, highly recommend. Going to put brushes under the cut bc. well. I have a lot to say about them

Ok so I uh. I don't really stick to one kind of brush when I draw, I switch around a lot depending on whatever I'm feeling that day. I do have a few I really enjoy using though, like

SU-Cream Pencil my beloved my dear my one and only, it's soft but thick in a way I really like! You have to download it but CSP has an asset store w/ a lot of free stuff made by other people. Literally the only reason why I even have this brush

Wet wash is another one I also like. Don't use it often, but it's an ideal watercolor brush imo.

CSP makes banger after banger of painterly brush I can't lie, esp all the oil paints. Regular Oil I use the least, but it's useful in blocking in color. Flat Brush is v v good for that kind of specific rectangular texture, but it does get kind of pixelated at high size. Thick Oil is my current fave, gives off a very textured and physical look I love. Not that good for blocking things in tho, because of the consistent size and darker specks inside the paint. That's what I usually use the Brush Pen for anyway, it's so good for both funky lineart and to get some good points and spikes in painting.

What I like to dub the Special Paint is something you need to download, it's something of a mix between oils and watercolor. I don't use it much anymore, but it's still a great brush.

Flat Marker is a really nice, multi-use brush. You can sketch with it. You can line with it. You can color with it. Hell, you can shade with it. Stupid good tool for when you just can't bother and still a really good one for when you can

Special Pencil has just. A very nice blend of sharpness and texture that's still soft enough to not completely overpower the art. Mwah. Delicious. Look at those lines, good for being both messy and crisp. You need to download it but the entire pack it comes from is very nice.

Ok this isn't a brush but I use it so often it might as well be w me. I use Multiply, Overlay, and Add (Glow) layers way too much, especially in combination. A lot of the details you see on my art is me just adjusting a lot of these layers over each other.

Multiply is good for both shading and coloring, surprisingly. If your palette has light colors and you use multiply on a single flat color, it gives you a more cohesive palette and it's very good.

Overlay I use less often, but it's very versatile and effects color on darker colors and lighter colors differently, great for patterns.

Add (Glow) is my preferred option for highlights. I'm not sure why CSP has two different options for Add, and a regular Add layer works fine, but I use this one. Classic and simple.

#also sorry for answering this so late I had to get home to do it

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saturniade · 3 years

Note

what software + brush do you use for sketches/doodles :0?

i use clip studio paint (1.10.6) and various brushes concocted by myself and others! csp is generally super great and has many delicious features; it costs 50 bucks normally (one-time purchase) but is occasionally on sale & also... *twirls hair shyly* theres this one indonesian website...

lets take a quick look at my sketch brushes!

rough: has great thickness variety, but doesnt allow to get too deep into details. great for outlining movement, general shapes and ugly splotches of colour to clean up with other brushes

rough lineart: almost monosized, used mostly to draw quick references of standing-still characters or their outfits. pretty good brush but definitely my last choice for drawing anything dynamic

smooth: current fave! a very default pen brush. no texture. a circle. however, i like how neat it looks in both sketches and lineart! and works wonderfully in csp's vectors as well, if youre a fan of those :)

thin turnip pen: you might've seen it pretty often during my hlvrai phase (boomers gay chicken comic, danger danger high voltage thing), but i rarely get to it nowadays. not much to say about it! a plain circle which doesnt even change its thickness

zh messy sketcher: i forget where i got it from (sorry artists!) but its pretty fun! if you like to spend hours on sketches and/or like textured pens, this pen is your choice.

jagodnayajija's liubimka: a creation by my good friend mors! not really my style, a messy pen like this (/pos), but nonetheless good :)

#tumblr ate my answer the first time it was so sad!#if you want the brush files or the *twirls hair* website just message me off-anon :--)#yoo my post #long post

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blackkwidowed · 4 years

Text

a reminder

Requested:

Hi! I absolutely love your Nat x Reader stories, OOOF. Can I request where the reader is an Idol (singer and hardcore dancer) and the reader is at dance practice at the avengers compound. Then when the Reader goes to their shared room, they get into an argument because of not spending time with each other and then it leads to reallyyyy hot sex where Nat is extreme sub. Reader is also an Avenger with abs and muscle. (girl on girl) THANKS DOLL!

Summary: Natasha perhaps appreciates bad ideas too much.

Rating: E. Filthy smut. Sub!Nat (my fave *swoon*). Uhhh spanking, The Strap, light dirty talk, light choking. Nat’s a size queen. Slight daddy kink but not realllyyy. Up to interpretation. Sorry.

Word Count: 2,401

I’m so sorry this is filth. It’s thirsting hours (send me smut requests) and i am h word

To say you enjoyed the attention was perhaps a little narcissistic, but when you’d been working on your dreams for so long, success was something you were grateful for, more than anything. You were humble about it, and you were quite widely known for that quality.

The last year or so had been your best professionally, with the release of an album and too many performances to count. It had been thrilling, every minute of it.

But now, you were tired.

Tired, because keeping all of that up full time as well as working on super secret stuff in Stark Tower, was exhausting.

You kept it all balanced at first, but you’d been away a lot recently and you’re starting to think Natasha is growing less fond of being apart from you. Admittedly, you hated it too, but you also knew how happy Natasha has and always will be for you.

You’re thinking about it while you finish up your practice for the week, a promise to Natasha that since you hadn’t seen each other much the last few weeks, you’d spend some time together. You miss her every day. Sometimes she gets the chance to come with you, but with how demanding her role is too, it makes everything a little more difficult.

You gather your things and call it a day, riding the elevator straight to your shared room with Natasha. You hope she’s waiting for you already, you hope she’s missed you as much as you had missed her.

“Nat?” You call, kicking the door shut behind you.

She emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed. “Hi, baby. You done?”

“Hey, you,” you grin with a nod. “All done.”

“Good.” You don't miss the way her eyes linger on your biceps, slightly sleek with sweat from practice. A blush stains her cheeks and she moves to kiss you, fingers playing at the hem of your tank top. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Natasha.” You pull her into a hug and God, that feeling of home and comfort is indescribable, unable to compare to anything else. “I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon but it should be over quickly, then I’m all yours.”

You feel her sigh and your heart drops to your stomach. The noise alone screams this is about to get ugly.

“We never spend time together.” She states, pulling away from the hug and looking at you, her expression sad more than anything else.

You frown sympathetically at her with a nod. “I know. Things have been crazy lately. I’m sorry, Nat.”

She runs a hand through her hair, shutting her eyes and sighing again. “I know, I just thought you’d finally spend a weekend with me instead of being all over the place with work.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You know that’s selfish.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! My work is important, too. I can’t help it.” You shrug. “You work too, a lot, might I add. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite, Natalia.”

She shoots you a look, but you don’t back down. How could you when she was being a little bit unreasonable.

“I just. I miss you. Feels like we don’t have enough time anymore. I mean, when was the last time we had sex?”

You roll your eyes. “Is that what this is about? That you haven’t been fucked in a few weeks?”

Natasha huffs and shakes her head. “No, I was just trying to make a point.”

“Really? Because I can certainly change that.”

She eyes you curiously, noting a change in your expression. You stand defensively, shoulders broad but still beautifully feminine, raised up a little in rising anger. You always look incredibly sexy like that, and she can’t help but let her mind run.

“Don’t.” Natasha whispers.

“Maybe you’re right,” you smirk at her, stepping forward and raising a hand to her cheek. You run your thumb across it, relishing in the growing warmth beneath it. “That isn’t the best way to solve a fight.”

She shakes her head, staring intently at you, searching for an answer in your expression. You put on such a good façade that even Natasha can’t read you sometimes.

“Definitely not,” she agrees. “We shouldn't.”

It’s barely even a second that passes, but your hands find the back of her neck and you pull her closer, leaning down to crush your mouth to hers and press your tongue against her lips.

She doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back of course, but she’s disappointed when you pull away, the hands that initially brushed your waist now pinned above her head as she’s slammed against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You hum in her ear. Your free hand pins Natasha’s hips to the wall behind her. You feel her shiver and you grin, sinking your teeth into her neck and sucking harshly. You feel the vibration of a moan in her throat and you shove a thigh between her legs. “And don’t you dare move your hips.”

Natasha does try to stop the whimper threatening to fall, but the assertiveness in your voice and the tightening of the hand on her hip, fingers pressing into the flesh hard enough to bruise, makes it impossible and it slips out.

With another nip at her neck, you step back and leave her slouched against the wall. You don’t fail to notice the way she squeezes her thighs together at your next order. “Strip. Now.”

Natasha nods and does as she’s told, standing completely naked in front of you under your hungry gaze.

“On the bed.”

Natasha just smirks, her own hands running up her stomach to her breasts. You bite your lip and shake your head at her.

“On the bed, now, Natalia.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You release an animalistic noise in your throat, deep and slightly threatening. Natasha almost lets you win at this game when she hears it.

You grab Natasha’s hips as she strolls past you to lay on the bed, forcing her to her knees to bend her over one side of the bed. You adjust her so you can press against her ass. Your hand runs across her lower back, before lowering and delivering a slap.

“Jesus,” she yelps in surprise, the harsh sting causing a flood between her thighs. “More.”

“Yeah?” You hum, fisting her hair in your free hand. You use more force the next time you do it, and more after that progressively. By the time you’re satisfied with how obvious your marks on her ass are, she’s a whimpering mess beneath you. “Naughty girl. You gonna behave for me now?”

She nods quickly, frantic and desperate for whatever is about to come next.

“Hands and knees.” You order. Your voice is heavy and thick with lust, Natasha can’t handle herself.

She scrambles to meet your request and you kneel behind her again, running a hand over her ass softly this time to soothe it a little. You run your fingertips down the back of her thighs. God, you can feel her trembling, you can see it. You glance down at the bed sheets from where she was bent over the bed before and you tut, loud. The sheet is soaked from where she was pressed against it, the slaps to her ass evidently doing more than you thought.

“Dirty girl, look at the mess you made,” you chuckle, glancing back down at where she’s raised her ass up before you. Her thighs are slick, she’s so fucking ready to be taken that you can’t believe it. “Such a messy little slut. You just can’t control yourself, can you?”

“Mmf.” She moans at your words and you grin to yourself because dammit you’ve got her slick and ruined and moaning for you without even touching her.

“Spread your legs.” You deliver a light slap to the back of one thigh, running your hand back up to sink a finger inside her without a warning. “Just like that. Good girl. That’s it.”

She drops her head and groans, hips pushing back to take your finger deeper. She needs more. Well, in reality you know what she really needs from you right now is something else, something bigger. But you’ll make her wait for that.

You add another finger, sinking deep and curling perfectly. She whines and moans your name quietly, the sound forcing you to drive deeper inside her. Your thumb moves to circle her clit and she cries out, tightening around your fingers in a plea for more.

She’s stunning like this, spread out and sweaty and begging for more.

With the addition of a third finger, you thrust hard. The pressure on her clit is wonderful, and you know she’s close already. She whimpers, fingers grabbing at the sheets and balling them in her fists. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

A dark smile paints your face and you fuck into her harder, speeding up the circling and the pressure on her clit and she comes with a cry of your name, hips bucking erratically.

Pulling your fingers out, you reach around and slip them into her hot mouth. She groans around them, sucking them clean and clenching her thighs together.

You kiss her shoulder and hop off the bed, heading to that special drawer you share with Natasha. You can hear her breath hitch as she watches your every move, not moving from her position on her hands and knees. Such a good girl.

You’ve put the harness on so many times you may as well start packing with it, and at the mere thought you make a mental note for later. Natasha would definitely like it if you packed for her. You contemplate with sizes for a moment before picking up the biggest one, the need to fill her up and split her open and show her who’s in charge becoming overwhelming, to say the least.

When you return to the bed, her thighs are shaking in anticipation and you shudder, the thought of being so deep and so thick inside her ruining you and setting you alight.

“On your back. I want to watch you come for me.”

Natasha does as she’s told, turning over and laying back against the pillows. Her legs are already open for you and you crawl between them, leaning over her to kiss her slowly. She hesitates to touch you, still following your rule from earlier.

You pull away and move to take a hard nipple into your mouth. “You can touch, sweetheart.”

She breathes relief and her fingers sink and tangle through your hair, pulling you up to kiss her again. She bites at your bottom lip and groans.

You know she can’t wait any longer and you reach down to grasp the base of the toy, guiding it through her folds slowly, brushing her clit. She whimpers, bucks her hips, eyes pleading for you to just fuck her.

“Hush, baby,” you whisper, placing a kiss below her ear. “Shhh.”

She gasps, mouth falling open as you press the toy to her cunt, slipping the tip inside as her legs part further to accommodate the stretch. The toy is big. Not unrealistic in size, but definitely well above average.

You pull out and she whines. Placing a soft kiss to her cheek, you push in again, further this time, a little faster. You know she can take the stretch, you’re desperate to see it happen, but teasing her is near amusing, so much so you can’t resist.

You continue to push deeper, your hips eventually meeting hers and you groan. She’s completely full of you, stretched around that cock like it’s what she knows best. The feeling of being inside her like this is like nothing else.

“Please move your hips,” she murmurs, begging. “Please, Y/N.”

“Okay, baby,” you smile, kissing over her chest. “Okay.”

You pull out almost all the way, just leaving the tip inside her, and you thrust back in, faster than before, a little harder. A low, raspy groan forms in her throat and fingers dig into the muscles in your back, clawing and scratching for support. You growl in her ear, “harder.”

You can feel the smirk against your neck as she bites, scratching down your back with more force as your thrusts speed up, setting a delicious pace as you fuck into her.

You slow your thrusts a little so you can grasp at her legs, hooking her thighs over your shoulders and speeding up again.

“Oh fuck,” she damn near screams, the new angle surprising her pleasantly. “Fuck me harder.”

You smirk and obey, your hips moving at an incredible force just to keep her greed at bay. You’re struggling to move as she clenches around the toy, your thumb circling her clit. “So tight. Can barely move.”

She whines and scratches harder at your back. You’re certain she’s leaving marks and you can’t wait to see the bright crescent shapes littering your skin when you wake up in the morning, the aftermath of sex with Natasha being almost just as exciting as the act.

“I’m close,” she warns. A devilish smirk appears on your lips and she reads it immediately. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it, pretty girl.” You command. “Say it or you don’t get to come.”

She huffs and you get a new idea, reaching up to wrap your fingers around her throat. Natasha can’t help it now, keening under the rough touch.

“Please, Y/N.” She gives in. “Please can I come?”

“Mhmm, come for me.” Your lips find hers, an attempt to stop the screams coming from her which you know you’re gonna get complaints about from the rest of the team come the morning.

She comes again with a breathy whimper of your name, her nails raking down your back so hard you hiss in pain. You’d be stupid to stop fucking her so you don’t, forcing her to come again right after and she screams, your hand still around her throat.

“Oh my God,” she mutters. It’s broken, raspy, she can’t really talk properly considering how hard she just came and you love it. “Don’t tell me you’re done.”

“Nope.” You smirk, pulling out, and you flip her so she’s straddling your hips. You pat your thighs and grab the base of the toy to hold it steady. “You’re gonna fuck yourself on this toy while I watch.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #natalia romanova #tag: smut #this is fucking filthy #that's become a tag already hasn't it #i can't help it i'm h word

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1eos · 2 years

Note

Top 5 brushes in your painting software!

im too lazy to post my sai specs for these rn but if anyhone is interested hmu! but my fave brushes are

my angle marker brush my beloved. i use her for every piece

sketch brush that i am in a codependent relationship w

thick paint brush i always use for heavy darks!

hair angle hair brush.......the way she does hair strands.....so good

not in paint tool sai but my photoshop star brushes are everything!

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Falling (Chapter Two)

Welcome back to the story! Lots of questions answered here and probably a few brought up, but I had the most fun recreating our faves for this verse and I am literally foaming at the mouth wanting to expand on their stories!

FALLING MASTERLIST HERE

******************

“My arc reactor is gone, but I have the scars from Afghanistan.” Tony said the words slowly, clearly into the quiet of his guest bedroom as the sun came up the next morning. “I still look the same age, I still have the gray hair, I still have the bruises from trying to deal with Cap and Thor in the woods the other day. I have all my memories, including the ones I’d rather not, I still know all the words to Back in Black and Shoot to Thrill. I don’t have an arc reactor but that doesn’t mean I’m not me, I’m still me.”

“It’s been at least thirty six hours since the wormhole.” he said next, running through the numbers in his head again, counting out the hours on his fingers just to have something solid to make note of. “Thirty six hours because Bucky and Steve who definitely aren't Captain America and a resurrected Sergeant Barnes found me in the later afternoon, then I slept through the night and most of yesterday, then spaced out again and slept all night.”

‘Spaced out’ wasn’t the right word though, the right word was dropped and that sounded like sub-drop and that sounded like what used to happen the few times Tony had gone to that club downtown and had the sheer misfortune of ending up with a shitty Dom that left him vulnerable after a scene.

The right word was dropped, and Steve and Bucky had helped Tony through it, Steve had actually gone down on his knees in front of Tony and held him and well, pigs must be flying, because Tony hadn’t ever thought he’d see Captain America on his knees.

He’d never thought he’d see Steven Grant Rogers attempting to meet him on equal ground and similar footing much less kneeling at his side and offering comfort but then again, this Steve wasn’t really Captain America, was he?

“Ever since Thor arrived on Earth and his bratty fucking brother followed him, it's generally accepted that worm holes are passages, doors between realms or universes or whatever we want to call them.” Tony kept reciting facts, knowledge, filling the silence with things he knew to be true so he wouldn’t linger too long on all the what if’s.

Everything was absolutely crazy right now but he was still Tony Stark, still a genius, he’d built computers as a damn toddler and took MIT by storm before he was even legal to drink. He could handle the science behind going into a wormhole above the Stark tower and coming out the other side into--

-- into this.

“Even the ancient Greeks thought there were parallel or at least alternate universes.” Tony breathed in and then out, in and then out. “And then Schrodinger said hey, maybe it’s not parallel, maybe they are simultaneous and that makes sense in a quantum sort of way. Simultaneous universes. I went through the door out of my universe and into a door to a different one and this is all happening at the same time everything is happening back home.”

“That makes sense.” He told himself again, and it made sense to Tony’s rational brain but it sure didn’t make sense to his emotions or his heart or his instincts that kept telling him to settle down and enjoy the change and to stop asking questions.

Now was not the time for his slightly hedonistic tendencies to make an appearance. Just cos he might be in an alternate, simultaneous reality with two figments right out of his unrealized wet dreams didn’t mean Tony should just lay back and accept it, right?

Right?

“Good morning, beauty.”

A part of Tony felt like he should be annoyed that neither Steve nor Bucky gave anything other than a warning rap at the door before they walked in. It was very Dom behavior, very ‘we do what we want in our house’ behavior and sure, that was valid but he still felt like he should be annoyed.

But the thing was, he wasn’t annoyed. Even with the questions swirling round in his mind and the facts that didn’t add up enough to ease the incredulity of the situation, Tony wasn’t annoyed when Bucky came in holding a cup of coffee and a donut in one big hand, and he definitely wasn’t annoyed by the pleased smile on the brunettes face when he saw Tony sitting up already.

Nope, not annoyed. Instead Tony was thrilled and exhilaration ran hot through his body when the Dominant set everything down and reached over to brush at his cheek, to tangle in his hair for a few seconds before letting go.

“How are you, baby doll?”

“Better than yesterday.” Tony’s breath hitched when Bucky pulled away, and the Dom nodded in understanding before sitting down next to him on the bed, budging up close until they were thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. “Shit. Thanks. That’s um-- that’s good.”

“Sure thing, sweet thing.” Bucky answered easily. “Anytime you need me, you just let me know okay? M’more than happy to sit here with you like this. Need me closer?”

“No I think--” the Dom let his hand rest heavy and warm on Tony’s thigh and a ball of tension released in his chest, leaving him loose as he sagged into Bucky’s shoulder. “God, that’s good. Thank you.”

“I’ve got you.” Bucky was quiet a moment, then cleared his throat. “Listen, Tony. You don’t have to tell us much of anything about your past if you don’t want, not right now and not even really anytime soon. But for our own safety and out of respect for anyone who holds your contract, I gotta ask. Are you not wearing a collar by choice, or because of something else?”

“A collar.” Tony was a quick thinker, fast on picking up cues, faster with formulating bullshit and once he glanced at the thick ring on Bucky’s finger that matched what Steve wore, it took all of three seconds for him to realize that here Dominants wore rings and submissives… well submissives must wear collars.

Ownership, right? Submission and control, collars and rings.

And if Tony wearing a collar was a normal, expected thing then that meant most people identified as either sub or Dom which meant society was more than likely built on constructs along the same lines which meant Tony had either hit his head really hard or the world was suddenly tilted or alternate or--

--or oh fuck, parallel. Wormholes and parallel places and new realities oh my.

“I am not wearing a collar by choice.” he finally said, slowly and carefully as he thought about the easiest way to answer the unexpected question. “Not really my style. I don’t uh-- don’t have any other reason to not be wearing one. Nothing--” a quick glance at the Dom to read his expression and Tony finished, “-- traumatic. Just by choice.”

“Okay. Good job, thank you telling me.” Bucky picked up Tony’s hand and kissed his knuckles and a nearly embarrassing shiver rippled through Tony’s body at the open approval. “I’m sure you know why it’s dangerous for us to have you here if another Dom has your contract. Don’t think you aren’t welcome to stay if you’re in some sorta trouble, but I needed to check before Stevie gets any ideas about keeping you--”

“--keeping me?!”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Bucky ordered mildly and just like that, Tony closed his mouth. “Thank you. You’re very sweet. Stevie already wants you to stay, but he always acts on his heart before his brain kicks in so someone’s gotta make sure everything’s alright first. That someone’s always me. You know one time I had to grab him by the damn belt to keep him from leaping out a window after some guy who stole a friends purse?”

“I um-- I fully believe that.” Tony smiled a little. “Yeah, I find that perfectly believable.”

“Stevie’s heart is good but his impulse control isn’t great.” Bucky smiled too, but it was fond and affectionate and halfway to smitten. “So. You don’t have a Dom then. No contract out there we’ll be prosecuted for breaking or tryna interfere with?”

“No uh-- no contract.” Tony shook his head adamantly. “No Dominant. No.”

“Okay then.” Bucky pressed at Tony’s hand one more time before straightening up off the bed. “Get dressed and come out to the living room and see what Steve is painting. You need to drink some juice, have some breakfast and then we’ll figure out what to do the rest of the day.”

“Yes sir.” Tony said automatically and before he could think to take it back or even wonder where the hell it had come from, the Dom’s eyes flickered and a slow smile spread over Bucky’s face.

“You got no idea how much I love hearing that, sugar.” he whispered and dropped a careful kiss on Tony’s forehead. “Fifteen minutes in the living room.”

“...yes sir.” it came a little slower this time, but felt no less natural, no less right. “Fifteen minutes.”

Steve was painting when Tony came out of the bedroom exactly fifteen minutes later, eyes narrowed in concentration as he worked a shade of purple into a canvas covered in blue and grays, brilliant orange in the middle and rolling clouds all around a column and--

“What is that?” Tony blurted before he could manage to stop himself, before the reminder to not interrupt his Dom-- a Dom-- this Dom-- came to mind. “What are you painting?”

“Good morning, beauty.” Steve put the paintbrush down and swiveled in his chair to grin broadly at Tony, all focused intent and the sort of happiness Tony had never imagined seeing on Captain America’s face. “How did you sleep?”

“Really good.” Tony felt the open welcome like sunshine against his skin, and he returned Steve’s smile as big as he could before asking again, “What are you painting?”

“Don’t you remember a couple of months ago, that freak storm off the coast?” Steve went back to painting, picking up a small brush to dot silver through the lightning bolts. “Right here over Manhattan the weirdest clouds formed and everyone thought it was going to be a tornado and then it did this--”

He gestured to the painting, to the wormhole that looked an awful lot like the one that had opened above the Stark Tower and unleashed hell on Tony’s version of New York. “-- and the conspiracy theorists shrieked about wormholes and portals to different worlds, religious nuts screamed about Armageddon and the Anti Christ.”

“Scientists decided it just an unusual event caused by rapid storm building and of a funnel cloud trying to form but there not being enough pressure to stabilize it or something like that.” Bucky interjected, pushing a cup of orange juice into Tony’s palm and not backing away until Tony took an obedient sip. “But Stevie thinks it's a path to a parallel world. A door in the sky.”

“Really.”

“Just think about it.” Steve insisted and the other Dom laughed at him, tipped his chin up for a quick kiss and then went to get his coat. “No Tony really! Think about it! Parallel or alternate universes. Simultaneous time lines or like.. mirrored existences. What ever you want to call them, there’s gotta be places out there where everything is the same except for one tiny detail, right? Multiple copies of existence where one thing is changed and that changes the whole world?”

“Details like what?” Science Steve wasn’t a version Tony had thought to meet but the spark of excitement in the blue eyes sure was adorable. “What sort of things would be different?”

“Me with a beard, maybe.” Steve said immediately. “Or Bucky as a pirate. Or one where it’s still some medieval time period and we’re knights. Mermaids. Something in space with aliens. One with--”

“Stevie wants a universe for every one of his Halloween costumes!” Bucky called from the bedroom and Tony hid a laugh behind his hand when the blond Dom finished with a huff, “Or just anything different. That’s my point.”

“Maybe world where people aren’t designated Dom and sub?” Tony suggested and Steve nodded quickly. “Because that-- that would be weird, right? An entire existence where you guys didn’t wear those rings and I didn’t feel like kneeling every time you so much as smile at me?”

Bucky came back with his coat just in time to hear the comment, and the Doms exchanged a look Tony couldn’t quite read before Bucky asked, “You feel like kneelin’ for us, baby doll?”

“I uh--” Tony’s hand went to his neck like he was missing something, maybe even something like a collar and Steve’s eyes lit in anticipation. “I um--” he coughed. “Well I think--”

“Settle, sweetheart.” Bucky murmured after a moment of Tony stammering, and Steve agreed, “No rush, Tony.”

“Right.” shit. “Thanks.” Tony sat with his juice in the chair Steve indicated, then glanced between them and asked, “Can I know about you two? I feel like you are both… familiar… but I can’t seem to place the names.”

“You know us from the history books.” Steve began cleaning his brushes and missed the half panicked expression on Tony’s face. “Well not us but our Grandpas are pretty famous in military circles. We’ve got their names and Ma always said we were damn near doppelgangers for Gramps at enlistment age. You remember the old comic books about Captain America and the Howling Commandos?”

“I’m vaguely familiar with them.” Tony nodded like his mind wasn’t trying to explode. “Yeah.”

“Remember the stories about plucky sidekick Bucky Barnes?” Bucky added with a rueful smile. “All those comics were based on a super secret unit that kicked some serious Nazi ass back in the day. Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes, fuckin’ rabble rousers where they grew up in Brooklyn, crack shots and All American Heroes once they suited up and shipped out. Those comics were basically propaganda, but hey, whatever helps the war effort, right?”

“So you are both named after… Grandpa?” Tony guessed. “Carried on the family name and hopefully the honor. But you aren’t soldiers.”

“Grandpa Steve met and married Grandma Peggy.” Steve nodded and Tony sort of felt like he might pass out. Steve and Peggy got married? “Bucky’s Grandpa married Bonnie and they settled into the same neighborhood. Raised their kids together, and when the kids grew up and moved with their own family, me and Buck were always sent back for the summers.”

“You know how mowing giant yards with ancient push mowers and painting fences builds character, right?” Bucky rolled his eyes.“All it taught us to was get better at sneaking off to go swimming. That’s when we fell in love too, summer we were fifteen years old. Stevie’s scrawny ass was gorgeous even back then, so I sure I didn’t mind him stripping down to just skivvies to seduce me at the docks.”

“I wasn’t seducing you at the docks, it was ninety four degrees outside and I didn’t have a bathing suit!” Steve made an offended noise and Bucky only grinned. “Wasn’t like you objected anyway. Weren’t gonna let a thing like ‘Dom’s don’t contract with out a submissive’ stop you from putting a ring on my finger, huh?”

“Nah, babydoll, I sure didn’t.” Their kiss was packed full of sheer adoration, and maybe Tony should have looked away but somehow he knew it was okay that he was watching. His Doms-- er, the Doms wouldn’t be talking about this sort of thing in front of him if they didn’t want him to see how good their love was.

“I teach art at the college and before Bucky’s accident he worked as the conditioning coach for the football team.” Steve said next, easing back from Bucky’s next kiss slowly. “Now he’s mostly benched but they pay him a hell of a lot to write up strategies and plays and run the try outs.”

“You’re an art teacher.” Tony repeated, and in some distant part of his mind he wondered why all the things he’d read about his Steve Rogers, nothing ever mentioned that he’d been an artist. Had anybody actually known the guy, or had he gotten lost behind the shield? “And Bucky-- how did you get hurt?”

“Train accident.” Bucky rolled his shoulder and Tony’s eyes dropped to the few inches that were what remained of the Dom’s left arm. “We went upstate for a ten year anniversary celebration, figured we could just cuddle up in the sleeping car and watch the fall foliage roll by, but there was an engine issue and the train derailed. Not too bad of an accident all things considered. Stevie managed to get out with a few bumps and bruises, I ended up losing my arm.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve just got a bad track record with trains.” Bucky's smile was easy enough but Steve's eyes darkened in remembered pain. “I’m either getting food poisoning on school field trips, or getting stuck in the worst seat possible that time we took one through the Great Lakes.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a prosthesis but it’s heavy and makes a weird noise when I try to move my fingers so it’s better off left at home. And since Stevie doesn’t care about the one arm--” Bucky raised his eyebrows and Tony automatically shook his head, he didn’t care about the arm, he couldn’t imagine ever caring about something like that.

“No harm no foul then.” The Dom shrugged again. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“I could help you with a new prostheses if you wanted.” Tony blurted out. “I’m pretty mechanical and I could design something really nice for you. Not a problem.”

“Maybe another time, sugar.” Bucky winked and Tony blushed a little bit but his mind was already racing, already thinking up schematics and how hard would it be to convert the design of his suits arm pieces into a fully robotic prostheses and whether or not he could get the parts in whatever this version of the universe was…

“Tell us a little about you, Tony.” Steve finally covered up the wormhole painting and set it away. “Last name? Where you’re from?”

“Oh I’m from Manhattan.” Tony said automatically, then corrected, “But I’ve spent the last few years in Malibu, found myself in the uh-- Middle East. For a bit. Went to Monaco for a while too. I like to travel and my work in… IT… lets me do that.”

Both Doms made agreeable noises and Tony took in a quick breath before adding, “Last name is Stark. Tony Stark.”

His heart stuttered uncertainly when Bucky and Steve exchanged confused looks, and Bucky asked, “Stark. Why do we know that name?”

“Oh! Maria!” Steve snapped his fingers. “Pepper’s boss! Wasn't her husband’s last name Stark?”

“Right, Howard Stark.” Bucky nodded and then looked back at Tony. “Small word huh? You having the same name as Pepper’s old boss? You know who Maria Carbonell is?”

“Well uh—“

“No, he wouldn’t, not unless he’s involved in the art community or that scholarship they just set up in Howard’s memory.” Steve decided. “The only reason we know is her through Pepper, I don’t think the Dame Carbonell hangs out with regular IT guys very much.”

“Who—?” Tony wet his lips, feeling wholly unsteady over hearing several names he hadn’t expected to all in a few sentences. “Who is Pepper?”

“Pepper Potts.” Bucky supplied absentmindedly, as if the words didn’t make Tony’s heart clench in his chest. “You’ll meet her tonight at the gala. She runs Mrs Carbonell’s art charity auctions and since we’re friends, we all have to show up and pretend to bid on horribly overpriced art we could never afford.”

“And Pep--” God, Tony could hardly say it. “Pepper works for Mrs. Carbonell? What did you say about Mrs. Carbonell’s husband?”

“Howard Stark.” Steve confirmed. “Passed away a few years ago, there was big states funeral cos he’d built a bunch of children’s hospitals and came up with a new treatment for leukemia. Pretty big deal. He was a good guy and all of Maria’s money sure made it easy for him to change the world.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony’s throat closed up and he makes a mental note to look up more about his parents— about the Carbonell-Starks— later when he could do it without wanting to cry. “That’s good, that’s-- yeah. That’s good. So this gala thing you’re going to...”

“Yeah, sorry about that, honey. Pepper books us all a table every year and it makes her look bad if we don’t go.” Steve spread his hands apologetically. “Otherwise we’d skip and stay home with you, I promise.”

“Oh I’ll be fine by myself.“ Despite his reassurance, it made Tony feel warm, safe and maybe even a little cherished to know the Doms would rather stay home with him. It was nice to think he mattered beyond what he could provide a team, beyond what he paid for. He hadn’t contributed a damn thing to Steve and Bucky’s existence so far except drama and they still wanted to stay home with him.

“I’ll be fine.” he said again, and tried not to sound like he hated the idea. “I’ll probably just sleep.”

“You’ll come with us.” It wasn’t so much a suggestion as it was an order and even Steve looked briefly surprised at Bucky's tone. “We always have an extra seat in case Clint manages a date, but this year you’ll have it.”

“...Clint.” No way. “And who is Clint?”

“You’ll meet everyone tonight.” Bucky shoved his keys into his coat pocket “But Clint’s the only other sub in our group of friends, so you two will get along fine. Stevie, take Tony shopping for new clothes, I think Pep said the theme was red and gold? Make sure you get the right colors.”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I love you.” Bucky pressed a long kiss to the other Dom’s mouth then squeezed at Tony’s hand. “I’ll see you both soon, I want you home before four thirty so we have time to get ready together.”

“Yes sir.” Tony said, and then, “Oh wait, I have money. I can buy my own things.” ...so long as the presidents are the same...?

“We’ll buy your clothes.” Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No seriously, I’m pretty sure I have enough to—“ Steve’s eyebrows about met his hairline when Tony started to argue and he nearly choked on the words as his throat closed up.

Note to self, it’s basically biologically impossible to argue with my a Dominant.

Further note to self, I don’t want to argue with my Dom.

“I mean, you don’t have to do that.” Tony tried again. “I have money and I don’t need a chaperone to shop. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

There, there’s a sentence he’d literally never said in his life.

“You’re no trouble ever, Tony. And we can afford to take care of you, so we will.” Damn Steve was Dominant and a thrill of pleasure raced down Tony’s spine. “And you don’t want to be alone, so I won’t leave your side.”

“Is it... obvious I don’t want to be alone?” By habit, Tony’s hand went to his hair to make sure it was in place, to his clothes to smooth them down. What had happened to his armor, to his persona, to his Tony Starkness?

“Sugar, it’s all right there in your eyes for anyone who cares to look.” Bucky said quietly. “You need to be held, you don’t want to be alone, and you’re just about desperate for someone to take care of you. And anyone who misses out on what a pretty sub like you needs is a damn fool.”

Oh.

“We don’t plan on being a fool bout you, Tony.”

Oh there was his armor, crumbled in pieces on the floor along with the rest of his misgivings about this world.

“... yes sir.” Tony whispered faintly. “I-- yeah. You could take me shopping.”

And Bucky only smiled over at Steve, then leaned in to kiss the beautiful sub gently gently.

“Good boy.”

************

Tony had made a point of not really walking next to Steve back in New York--er, back in his New York. It wasn’t that the super soldier had made him feel small, which was sort of true, or that that particular Steve had a way of talking that made you feel looked down on, which was also true, or even that Tony had some small man complex he couldn’t seem to overcome and Steve made it obvious.

No, Tony had made a point of not getting too close to that Steve because even though Captain America had long been his hero, there’d been a part of him that always resented the bastard for swooping in and stealing all of Howard’s interest years before Tony had the chance to try for himself.

He’d never measured up to Steve in Howard’s eyes, never was the man Captain America had been, hadn’t shown the courage tiny Steve Rogers had showed by being willing to do everything for his country.

Tony hadn’t ever measured up, and he’d been born already losing at a competition he’d never wanted and walking next to the Captain on the heli-carrier with his disapproving sighs and blatant irritation had brought all those feelings roaring back to the surface.

Forty something years old and Howard still managed to make him feel like shit.

But walking next to this Steve felt good. The big blond was so Dom-- and okay, the word was a little weird on Tony’s tongue but the more he thought it, the better it felt. Steve was so Dom that people parted when they walked down the sidewalk, the other submissives batted their eyes lashes and touched neutral white collars at their neck in an open flirt.

In some cases, the bolder submissives touched royal blue collars which Tony quickly figured out meant they were contracted. And judging by the jealous and almost angry looks the ring wearing Dominants cast their way, the flirting submissives were carrying on right in front of their partner and... well yikes.

But not all looks their way were angry, more than once a passing Dominant’s eyes slid to Tony’s neck and eyebrows raised over the lack his collar before an encouraging smirk tilted their lips. The third or fourth time it happened Steve simply cleared his throat and slipped an arm around Tony’s waist, met the next Dom’s eyes head on and tipped his head back in a clear challenge.

The Dom put a hand over his heart in what Tony could only figure was a show of respect, and moved right on.

“I don’t mind them staring.” Tony said softly once it was just them again. “It’s weird that I don’t wear a collar, of course they would look. It’s fine.”

“Dominants know better than to leer at another Dom’s sub.” Steve answered lightly, but his grip at Tony’s side tightened. “Doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a collar or not. You’re at my side, they need to respect that.”

And then after a moment, “Can’t say I blame ‘em though, I’d stare if a sub like you was walking around uncollared. Can’t help but hope.”

Can’t help but hope. It was clear approval from the Dom, a compliment on Tony’s looks and apparently how good of a sub he was and Tony had to swallow the urge to practically purr, so he coughed and changed the subject.

“So you and Bucky. Both Doms but contracted together.”

“Why do you ask?” Steve steered Tony into a store that looked and felt and was designed like Macy’s but just wasn’t quite Macy’s. Parallel universes, amiright?

“Just cos sometimes you seem a little--” Tony searched for the right word so he wouldn’t offend the Dom unintentionally. “--I mean it seems like Bucky is a little more--” don’t say subby. “-- Are you a switch?”

There, that was a word Tony remembered from his brief and less than satisfying foray into the Dom/sub scene back home. Switch.

“Are you a switch?” he asked again. “Because the way you are with Bucky sometimes…”

“In the most technical sense you could say I was a switch.” A firm hand at the small of Tony’s back had him turning towards the dress clothes. “But I’m all Dom, Tony. Even when I was tiny and scrappy, I was a Dom. Even years after contracting with Bucky. What I do with Bucky has nothing to do with my biology and everything to do with the ways we need each other sometimes.”

“So…” Tony stopped when Steve did, and tapped at a shirt in his size so the Dominant could pick out an appropriate color. This wasn’t really new, Pepper had always picked out all his clothes so it wasn’t even a submissive thing to let Steve do the shopping, more of a fully bored with clothes thing. “So you are both Doms but you sub for him occasionally?”

“When one of us needs it.”

“Does Bucky ever need to sub?”

“No.” Steve held up two shades of red and then tossed the lighter one aside. “He needs submission, some times I need to submit. Two different needs that we can fill for each other because we love each other. We complete each other.”

“Huh.” Tony’s heart sank a little and he tried not to think about why. “So um--”

“You’re asking because you don’t see how you would fit into our lives.” Steve stated rather than guessed and Tony blinked at him in surprise. “You don’t see how a full submissive like you could compete with the bond Bucky and I already have, and if I’m willing to be submissive every once in a while, you don’t see why you’d be needed.”

“Well I mean…” Tony let the words trail off into a helpless gesture. He had thought about how he would fit in with these two Dominants, how he’d fit into all the dynamics of this world, but Steve made it sound like he and Bucky had already decided Tony fit just fine.

And that was-- that was nice but it was also a matter for maybe later cos right now all Tony could think about was his version of Steve and how tortured the Captain had seemed, how withdrawn and tense like he couldn’t even breathe.

If his universe’s Steve and Bucky had been more like this Steve and Bucky and not Cap and Sarge like all the propaganda said, maybe that’s why Steve had seemed like he was grieving, why he was cold and distant.

Bucky balanced him, saved him, gave him the freedom to just be Steve and then the Captain woke up and didn’t have anyone.

Steve hadn’t had anyone and Tony had Rhodey and Pepper but he’d began pulling away from them too, losing himself in Iron Man and the spiraling reality he’d flung himself into and maybe that’s why Steve had picked up the shield again, maybe it was the same reason Tony had flown up and up into the wormhole and thought dying would be easy because after losing everything and feeling like your grasp on reality was slipping, maybe dying was the easiest thing to do.

Maybe Captain Rogers had picked up the shield hoping this time would be the last time.

“Easy easy.” Tony didn’t realize he’d gone sad and quiet until Steve was cupping his jaw and leaning in to press their foreheads together. “Settle down, sweetheart. Come back to me.”

“I’m-- I’m here.” Tony grabbed on to Steve’s wrist and squeezed and the Dom breathed out a pleased sigh. “Sorry, I just--”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Steve shook his head. “Just come back to me. Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was thinking--” about you. About Bucky. About my other life. About Pepper and Rhodey and how I’d been so willing to die because I knew everything would be fine without me. “I was thinking about how hindsight is twenty twenty and wishing I’d seen a few more things before it was too late and--”

“Grandma Pegs always said that just cos hindsight is clear doesn’t mean we have to feel guilty about the things we didn’t see.” The Dom was so solid, and Tony leaned in further, let the blond take his weight. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling bad bout something? Not now baby, not when we’re havin’ fun together.”

“No, no it’s just--”

“Never mind, then.” There was a layer of steel in Steve’s voice that settled the issue, no room for argument, no need to explain and for once in his life Tony didn’t take the chance to argue, to insist on finishing his point.

Written right in your eyes for anyone who cares to look, Bucky had said and maybe it meant that instead of seeing hesitancy as weakness like Howard had, like the press had, like Obadiah had, maybe Steve saw Tony’s hesitancy as uncertainty and a little bit of fear and a whole lot of regret.

Never mind sounded like a brush off from someone that didn’t care but from Steve it sounded like a solution, like a relief, like forgiveness and like a rescue.

Never mind.

“Thank you.” Tony whispered and the Dominant smiled and dotted a kiss on his nose before pulling away again.

“So you’ll meet Pepper and Clint tonight, and you’ll most likely get to meet Thor.” Steve changed the subject and Tony was grateful for it but then his mind skipped to uhhhh what demigod now?

“Thor?” he asked and incredibly, Steve motioned to a poster hanging in the men’s underwear section and yep, there was Thor. Big as life and damn near naked, hair in intricate braids to his waist and arms tattooed up in Nordic designs, an axe slung over his shoulders and a hammer sized bulge in his barely there briefs and...and… honestly what in the hell?

“Yeah, we met him at our gym and became friends.” Steve went back to picking out shirts for Tony. “But then someone took a picture of him working out and next thing we know he’s getting modeling contracts offered from a bunch of different companies and now I can’t even buy socks without having an almost naked Thor grinning at me.”

“What-- how-- I--I--” Tony didn’t want to be gaping at the God of Thunder’s thighs but he also didn’t really want to stop. “You’re friends with him?”

“You know, Bucky gives me hell when I look at Thor’s posters too long, wait till he hears you prefer your Dom’s lumberjack-y too.” Steve cracked a grin and for the first time in a very long time, Tony blushed scarlet clear to his ears. “I think you’ll have to settle for clean cut and All America with us, sweetheart. We don’t channel Viking God Wood Cutter quite as convincingly.”

“It’s the hammer.” Tony said faux seriously. “It really emphasizes his um-- his personality.”

“That’s what I tell Bucky!” Steve crowed and Tony laughed out loud and Steve laughed out loud and it was the first time Tony had laughed in so long he’d almost forgotten how good it felt.

But then the Dom hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in with a murmured, “Pretty sub, your laugh is gorgeous.” and oh suddenly that was much better than just laughing.

“I like your laugh too.” Tony admitted, realizing first that he’d never heard Captain America laugh, and second that Thor’s hammer was making him feel ridiculously subby for entirely un-Dom related reasons. “But we should move on before I consider going to dinner with Thor and not you and Buck.”

“The hell you will.” Steve was still grinning but his eyes sparked possessively, and his hand slid down to clasp the back of Tony’s neck. “We aren’t letting you go, sweetheart. Not any time soon.”

“Yes sir.” Tony breathed and the Dom left the softest possible kiss on his lips.

“Good boy.”

**************

“This shirt looks great on you.” Bucky finished buttoning up his own dress shirt and then moved to finish doing up Tony’s too. It seemed so natural for the Dom to help that Tony didn’t even blink when Bucky pushed his hand away and threaded the buttons himself one handed. “I like the gold stripes baby doll, makes your eyes sparkle real pretty.”

“Yeah, Steve said it was the best one.” Too focused on breathing in the Dom’s cologne and studying the fine lines in Bucky’s brow, Tony forgot to cover his chest and when Bucky’s breath caught sharp and stunned, he realized his mistake.

“Oh wait--” he made a belated movement to cover the thin material of his undershirt and the scars showing beneath, but Bucky shook his head and raised his voice, “Steve? Stevie!”

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Tony had only a moment to internally laugh about how even this Steve preferred to wear red white and blue before the other Dom was in his space too as Bucky pulled Tony’s undershirt aside to show him the scars. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“I got hurt.” Tony waited for the old defensiveness to rise up bitter in his throat, the shame and embarrassment that followed anytime anyone got an inadvertent look at his chest.

Sure without the arc reactor he didn’t look quite so alien but there was no denying he’d been torn apart and sloppily stitched back together. The scars were thick and still raised after a few years, scattering out across his sternum like shrapnel, centered ugly over his heart where the damage had been the worst.

It was ugly and he waited to get defensive or want to curl up and hide but it-- it didn’t happen. Tony didn’t feel the need to run, or cover up or even explain because Steve wasn’t staring at the scars he was staring at Tony, searching his eyes for-- for something and apparently finding it because the big blond murmured hoarsely, “Oh no, honey. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Damn sugar.” Bucky swallowed hard and held onto Tony’s shirt tight while Steve spread a careful hand over the scars. “Looks like someone broke your heart real bad, huh?”

“...you could say that.”

“Don’t worry.” the Dom finished softly,. “We’re never going to let that happen again. You’re safe with us. Promise.”

“Okay.” Tony closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of Steve’s palm, stuttered through an uncertain breath when Bucky kissed his temple.“...okay.”

****************

“Bucky! Steve!”

Somehow, Pepper was even more gorgeous in this universe, every inch as perfectly put together as always, hair like sunset and eyes like emeralds and a smile Tony hadn’t realized how much he missed until it was fully focused on him as Pepper gave him a quick once over.

“My oh my, Clint will be thoroughly jealous you two managed to bring the prettiest date in the city!” Pepper touched the ring on her finger that marked her as Dominant-- honestly, no surprises there-- and then raised her eyebrows pointedly at Bucky and Steve. “Introduce me and allow me to say hello?”

Tony had never heard Pepper ask for permission a day in her life, in fact lately it had seemed like he was the one asking permission for things and being told lovingly, exasperatedly, “No, Tony.”

He’d never heard her ask for permission and he expected it to sting like a bolt to the chest to see the woman he loved up close and in person in this place, to see her in a world where he didn’t exist and she was apparently thriving, stunning and smiling and Tony expected it to hurt.

But it didn’t, because nothing about the last few days had hurt in the least, so when Bucky and Steve both wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him in, Tony only smiled and waited for the introduction of, “This is Tony and he is with us. Sweetheart, this is Pepper Potts.”

“Tony.” Pepper didn’t reach to shake his hand or move to kiss his cheek like his Pepper had done so many times before. Instead she put her hand over her heart and dipped her head in acknowledgment, and since Tony had seen a collared submissive do the same as they’d walked through the doors, he inclined his head as well.

Steve turned into kiss his temple and murmured, “Good boy. Thank you.” while Bucky just smiled in approval and Tony tried not to flush from the praise.

“Lovely.” the pretty Dom decided, talking to Steve and Bucky again, though she sent a thoroughly smitten look Tony’s way. “Absolutely stunning in fact. What a darling submissive. Tony, if your Doms allow it, I’d very much like to sit near you at dinner, I think the two of us could be great friends.”

“I think the two of us could be great friends too.” Tony echoed and Pepper’s smile stretched wide and gorgeous before she saw someone else she knew and with a quick wave, hurried away on those sky high heels.

“She’s nice.” the sub whispered thickly. “Have you known her long?”

“We used to be neighbors in the same apartment building.” Bucky explained as he pointed out their table. “Worked the same schedule so half the time we got home all together. She works with the art foundation so she spent some time at the university and since we were neighbors she made sure Steve’s department got extra money.”

“She’s not usually this stiff either.” Steve pointed out. “Real rich folks tend to hold onto all the Old World dynamics like not talking to subs and being formal with Doms and even though we attend this stuff every year, it still weirds me out.”

“Once she gets to the table with everyone, she’ll settle down though.” Bucky pulled out Tony’s chair and motioned for the sub to sit, then pulled out a chair for Steve too. “The menu is set for tonight but I’ll get you both drinks. Tony, water to start and then you can have whatever you’d like.”

“Yes sir.”

Water was a good choice, because Tony would have actually died inhaling straight whiskey when Thor showed up at their table complete with booming voice and eyes that still flashed like lightning and a suit that cost at least three thousand dollars stretched across impossibly wide shoulders.

And then there was Natasha, as wicked and mysterious as always in a dress more leather than cloth, the ring on her finger carved into a black widow’s hour glass. In this place she ran both a club for Dom’s looking for a night of anonymous release, and a safe haven for submissives who needed a place to stay and judging by the looks she got from both Doms and subs alike as she crossed the room, the redhead was well known for it too.

“We’re pretty sure she’s killed bad Dom’s before.” Steve muttered under his breath while Tony tried hard not to stare as the intimidating Dominant burst out laughing at whatever Thor said. “They come to her club, next thing we know a submissive is at a safe house and a Dominant with a history of abuse has gone missing.”

“No one does anything about it?” Tony whispered and the Dom whispered back, “Would you?”

Tony shook his head and Bucky picked up his hand to kiss his knuckles, and the conversation moved on.

Clint was a submissive, hilarious and sweet, blond and gorgeous and came running around the table and dodged Steve and Bucky to shove a kiss right onto Tony’s lips, bending down from a shocking height of nearly six foot four and then laughing when Tony tapped curiously at the polka dot band-aid at his nose.

“Yeah, I’m not one of those pretty, graceful submissives like you are.” Clint shook his hand animatedly. “I walked into a door at Tasha’s the other day, she needs to stop making things to her height, damn Dom is practically an elf.”

Natasha laughed and then snapped her fingers and Clint dropped into the seat right next to her, clearly happy with the woman he’d chosen as his, and Tony couldn’t help cataloging all the behaviors, all the same patterns and jokes and the way this Natasha and Clint acted like his Natasha and Clint and hindsight--were his two in love too?

Bruce Banner looked all the same, but he had to stop and sign autographs as he crossed the ball room and once again Tony was grateful for water when Bucky casually mentioned, “Doc has got something crazy like seven Ph.D’s but on the weekends he does that theatrical wrestling, you know? You ever heard of Doctor Hulk? That’s him when he’s not in the ring.”

“Doctor Bruce Banner wears tights and unitards and does scripted TV Wrestling on the weekends.” the sub said doubtfully. “Really?”

“Doctor Hulk!” someone called and Bruce turned and flexed, growled “Hulk Smash!” and that corner of the room erupted into laughter.

“Oh my god.”

But then there was Rhodey, and real tears came to Tony’s eyes when Steve introduced him as “Colonel James Rhodes, formerly of the United States Air Force, currently one of the top stunt pilots in the world and clearly the snappiest dresser among us.”

“Yeah yeah, shut the hell up.” The Colonel set down a flamboyantly decorate helmet, then raised his arms to show off his obnoxiously patriotic uniform. “I had to fly here from Vegas after a show and since Pep’s already gonna have my head for not wearing the color theme, maybe you don’t test my patience, Stevie.”

{Rhodey’s outfit, Courtesy of Oceans 13 ‘Basher’ because I just couldn’t help myself}

“Aw c’mon Rhodes.” Bucky leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I think those leather pants look right nice on you.”

“Better on my ass than yours, Bronco.” James shot back, and then with a look towards Tony, “Well well. This one looks like trouble.”

“You don’t even know me!” Tony protested past the lump in his throat and the Dom retorted teasingly, “Yeah but you’re sitting between these two! Trouble!”

Everyone jeered and hollered and joined in on the ribbing and Tony sat back and let it all wash over him.

He’d never had this, never had so much fun with the group of people called the Avengers. He had never hurt himself laughing over Clint’s jokes or seen Pepper blush the way she did when Natasha accused James of stealing the pants from Pepper’s closet, and when Tony slipped up and called the Colonel Rhodey, Thor slammed his whiskey glass downed and boomed, “He shall be called Rhodey!”

The evening was noisy and the evening was fun and Tony’s mouth hurt from grinning, his eyes hurt from blinking back tears every time Rhodey got snarky and Pepper sighed in exasperation, and every time Steve or Bucky leaned in to whisper in his ear Tony let himself slip a little closer to their sides until he was surrounded by warmth.

“Are you alright, sweet thing?” Bucky asked when the final course was cleared and dessert showed up at their table. “I know this group can be a lot, and it’s been a tough few days for you.”

“No.” Tony whispered. “No, this is fine, this is fine, I’m okay.”

And it was okay, because everything about this evening was amazing.

This was Tony’s entire world right here at the table. Things were a little different sure, but all the best parts were here and more importantly, all the best parts of his entire world were smiling and talking and teasing each other and teasing him. The world wasn’t ending via wormhole and aliens and Pepper wasn’t crying because of Tony again, Rhodey was trading stunt pilot stories with Clint who was apparently circus-y in this world and Thor was tossing back shots with Natasha and Bucky and Steve...

...well Steve’s hand never left Tony’s thigh, rubbing warm and solid circles just firm enough to let him know he was there. And Bucky wove his fingers into Tony’s hair then let his palm rest heavy at the base of Tony’s neck and the sub didn’t even have to think for a second about dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

Tony missed the knowing looks around the table when Steve pressed a kiss to his pulse point, he missed the way Pepper smiled in approval when Bucky bent close to whisper how good Tony was being in a hushed sort of tone meant for lovers, meant for partners, meant for Doms and subs.

”You wanna go home, sweet thing?” Bucky murmured and Tony shook his head.

“Not yet.” he covered Steve’s hand with his own where it rested on his leg. “No this is fun, I don’t want to leave yet.”

“We’ll stay as long as you want.” the other Dom decided. “So long as you’re happy, honey.”

“I’m happy.” Tony looked around the table again, lingering on Clint’s blond hair and Bruce’s sort of hilariously high pitched laugh now that he was four drinks in. “Yeah. This is good. I don’t want to leave.”

Bucky kissed his cheek and went back to talking with Thor, Steve signaled for another round of drinks and moved to wind his arm around Tony’s waist and Tony sat there and drank it all in...

...and kept thinking if he could design heaven, maybe it would look an awful lot like this right here.

*****************

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#ncts fics #stuckony #stucky #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dom/sub

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