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#mischief and manners
maritamorgado · 1 year
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sofiadragon · 2 years
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Loki just busting out with "Why would I respect Captain America?" during the cleanup after Avengers 1 but before he's gagged "That nation doesn't treat it's veteran warriors with any respect, and leaves those wounded in war to die of hunger on the streets each winter."
That gets Thor's full attention in the worst way possible and Tony starts talking about the Maria Stark foundation, but Loki just keep stirring the pot about veterans exposed to carcinogens during the Iraq war who can't afford medical care and the political games being played with their benefits package. Clint mentions Jon Stewart and Loki rips the rug out from under them by pointing out that a comedian private citizen from a stigmatized minority religion is the main advocate for something that a warrior culture like Asgard would get done without a single word of debate.
Thor wants to muzzle Loki, but he's distracted by a shouting match about the VFW and how many vets commit suicide so they aren't a burden on their families. Cap agrees completely with Loki and that feels really weird, but Loki's contained and there is a new cause he needs to fight for so he'll work through that later. When Sitwell and the other officials arrive the heavy hitters on the Avenger's team are all ready to spend some political capital on this issue while Loki's quietly explaining to some impressionable peon that he was coerced into acting as he did during the invasion by the owner of the army that attacked, and if they will keep him on earth a while he will happily tell them everything they want to know about Thanos. By the time Stark, Sitwell, and Natasha convince the rest of the team that they need to focus on more immediate issues Loki is already three-quarters of the way through negotiating with the CIA or FBI representatives to exchange the things he knows - both about Thanos and about advanced technology/magic - for a comfortable living arrangement and a full pardon.
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void-tiger · 2 years
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Headcanon:
In Jessamy’s preRaven life, she wasn’t human. She was fay.
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slytherinslut0 · 5 months
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
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info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
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Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
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sytoran · 1 month
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home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒
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in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, some pretty heavy kinks: blowjobs, marital sexting, breeding kink, daddy kink, probably more.
word count ★ 3.1k (feeding yall)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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You slept like the dead.
Or at least you did, on most mornings, oblivious to the waking world in your sweet slumber. 
Today was different, though. There was a distinct feeling of pleasantness swimming in your subconscious, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It urged you awake, a certain type of wet heat that insistently tugged and pulled.
It wasn’t until a jolt of arousal shot through you like a nine-millimetre shotgun that you jerked awake with a start.
“Shit!” you gasped, yanking off the blanket from your lower half, to reveal your ethereal wife perpetrating what could only be described as a wet dream.
Natasha’s head was obediently lowered in the midst of sucking your erect shaft, her viridescent gaze trained unto you with a twinkle of mischief. Wandering hands were sheathed under the front of your sweatshirt, painted nails mapping out the expanse of your tensed abdomen. 
“Way to wake me up, baby,” you say breathlessly, a hand flying to the back of Natasha’s head in hopes of speeding up your ever-approaching high. You buck your hips once, effectively propelling your hips further forward, guiding your shaft into your wife’s mouth.
Natasha hums mindlessly, palming at your torso like it was second nature. Her mouth moves languidly, relaxed and slow, tongue trailing over the hefty length of your cock in a teasing manner.
Like the devil incarnate, Natasha’s hand glides a broad stroke from your abs to the base of your cock, and starts working her hand in firm strokes. “Fuck,” you groan, a hand twisting into soft locks of your wife’s hair.
The joint stimulation on the head and base of your cock have you barrelling towards a preordained high at a frighteningly fast pace, and the absolutely criminal way Natasha’s head bobs up and down is no help at all.
“Fuck, baby, m’so close,” you gasp, throwing your head back and letting your eyes slide shut. Your big hand guides Natasha’s head with a certain type of tacit power, unwritten but distinct. Natasha feels herself get wet, and in turn eagerly plunges her mouth down with a renewed vigour.
When Natasha lets out a filthy moan from the back of her throat, stifled by the sheer size of your cock in her mouth, pleasure overwhelms your every sense. 
You groan, hips snapping up for the entirety of your cock to be buried in Natasha’s warm and velvet throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Mama! Mommy!” 
The undeniable sound of little feet scampering across the wooden floorboard and down the stairs, unceremoniously hauls you out of your heaven-like ascension. 
Natasha pulls her lips off your cock with a satisfying ‘pop’ sound. “Time to get up, honey,” she says with the arch of her eyebrow, smoothly turning over in practised motion and leaving you hung and sprung.
“Baby,” you whine, pitifully throwing your head back. Your words fall on deaf ears and you grumble and pull up your sweatpants, just in time for the door to swing open and release the incoming wave of chaos.
“MAMA!!” Emilia shrieks, leaping onto the bed with fearsome aggression, her younger twin brother in tow. 
Your five-year olds didn’t let you catch any breaks, Emilio roaring into your ear while dragging his toy pterodactyl across your face. “Rawr! Rawr! Wake up, ma!”
You leap up in a haze of bedsheets and screaming kids, all your previous indiscretions quickly faded at the sight of your bundles of joy. 
Emilia squeals as you easily hoist her up with one arm, the little girl getting thrown into the air. Emilio receives much of the same treatment, getting dangled in the air by one leg.
“Mommy! Save us!” The boy cries out with a delighted grin and a hearty attempt at hitting your side. You swing them around with fake growls that incite laughter and squeals, steering clear of any sharp corners or wayward objects.
Natasha is more preoccupied with hugging your sleepy ten-year old, and cooing softly into her ear. 
Marina is the oldest of your three, quiet and reserved, with brilliance sparkling behind her soft eyes. “Hi, mama,” she greets you with a small smile, and your heart melts a little.
“Hi, darling angel,” you reply with a big grin of your own. “Where’s my morning kiss?”
At the prospect of the feared morning kiss, Emilio yells and wreaks absolute havoc, the toy truck forgotten in favour of escaping your clutches. 
“No mama! No kiss!” Emilia protests, the Russian determination behind her set eyes a splitting image of her mother’s. Emilio is long gone, visibly hidden under your bedside table. 
You hoist Marina up onto your hip, smiling at the sweet kiss she pecks on your cheek. “It’s mommy’s turn now,” you say easily, sliding up to Natasha with a mischievous grin.
“Ew!” Your little girl giggles, hiding behind her hands as you share a chaste kiss with your wife, one that is far too short for your liking. Either way, the morning kiss routine was a success.
The attention in the crowded room is drawn by a simple clap of Natasha’s hands. She stands arms akimbo, rocking her bed hair, sleep still half-written in her eyes — but the whole look is so endearing that you can’t help but fall in love all over again. 
“Okay, kids. Time to get ready for school! Who wants breakfast?”
The cheer that arises from your children is nothing short of pure jubilation. Emilio starts a chant of ‘Frosted Flakes! Frosted Flakes!’ that has them marching in line out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. 
Natasha laughs, following their trail, but you drag her back expectantly.
With one arm hanging off the top of the doorframe and the other wrapped around her waist, you pull Natasha into that long sought-after kiss. 
“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, inhaling her sweet scent. “I love you.”
Natasha slowly slides her hands up your arms, savouring the kiss. She presses her palms to your cheeks, adoration dancing in her eyes.
“I love you too.”
*****
The Frosted Flakes do not end up on the breakfast table, after all, because Natasha reasons that the kids had eaten it for three breakfasts in a row and their teeth would rot and fall off.
Toast and scrambled eggs, courtesy of your little handiwork in the kitchen, is the eventual outcome. Food is food to a bunch of hungry gremlins, either way, and the breakfast gets scarfed down in no time at all.
“You’re gonna go soon?” Natasha asks you in the kitchen, giggling at your teddy-bear patterned apron. You make a non-committal hum against your wife’s chest, wanting to stay in her arms for an eternity.
“Mama, we have to go to school,” Marina calls from the front porch, the door clicking open. “I need help with my shoe!” Emilio cries out, hopping into the kitchen with a singular shoe. “I got my shoes done on my own!” Emilia chimes in proudly, tugging on her backpack straps.
Natasha laughs, stroking your hair affectionately. “No rest for the wicked,” she says. “Be a responsible parent and send Marina to school, then go to work. The twins’ school bus will be here anytime.”
You exhale with a smile, pulling your wife in for a kiss that is a tad too long. Tugging off the pink apron, you’re glad you already changed into your work attire — a collared white shirt rolled up to your elbows, a grey-patterned tie, and matching slacks.
Natasha looks you up and down approvingly, then her eyes glimmer with an incited flame as she straightens your tie. You definitely don’t miss the way her hands glide smoothly across your chest to straighten out the wrinkles, and you resist the fluttering sensation that blooms under her touch.
“What a handsome young woman,” Natasha comments, tip-toeing to peck your cheek. You smile widely, preening under your wife’s attention. “Only for you,” you reply happily. “I’ll be off, then.”
“Mama, let’s go,” Marina probes, head poking into the kitchen. Her eyes soften at the sight of Natasha, proceeding to wave cutely. “Bye, mommy.”
Like little ducks, your three children follow you out of the house, with their miniature backpacks and shoes. Natasha watches adoringly from the porch, blowing kisses to Emilia when she yells one last “Bye, mommy!”.
Your Audi SQ7 peels out the driveway, engine revving. Marina is looking out the window, humming ‘American Pie’ with a little smile. As your home fades away in the rearview mirror, you think that this life was all you’d ever need.
***
“Fury, tell Tony that not sponsoring the coffee machines in my building is frankly, quite rude behaviour,” you comment, sitting next to the aloof man who’s snacking on a packet of dried fruit. Steve steals bits of the snack when Tony’s not looking, much to Fury’s chagrin.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Tony replies hotly, snatching back the piece of fruit in Steve’s hand. “You literally leaked the photo of me in a maid outfit, for the whole world to see. You know how many sleazy men have slid into my DMs since then? Pepper hasn’t let that go!”
“What, are you mad that the public now knows that Pepper’s the one that does the dicking down?” you retort. “And Steve was one of those ‘sleazy men’!” 
The accused blonde looks away quickly, suddenly very preoccupied with the tiling of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve mumbles.
“That’s enough,” Fury admonishes with an unamused look. “The three of you need to get your shit together. Regardless of whether or not Stark is a bottom, I can’t have the CEOs of my powerhouse companies making a bad name. You know how that reflects on me? Stark Industries, SHIELD, L/N-Corp Worldwide Media: The Desolate Downfall of Nick Fury.”
“Is this because I modelled for the gay sex toy shop company? Because that’s just homophobic,” Steve reasons, folding his arms. “And Bucky liked the advert a lot!”
Tony scoffs, making paper aeroplanes with the papers on Fury’s desk. “We literally bring in millions upon millions for you each year. I’m sure that forgives the one time I was high during Y/N’s media conference. The Minister didn’t even notice! He’s like 82, anyways. Close to your age, Fury.”
“And I’m not sorry for calling the Netflix director a bitch on live TV,” you add in. “They’ve got no reason for cancelling all the sapphic shows left and right! My wife and I were invested in Gentleman Jack, okay?”
Fury sighs, the scene before him a spectacle he was no stranger to by now. 
You, Tony and Steve were the face of the up-and-coming generation of brilliant minds and creative thinking. He supposed your overwhelming success and proved greatness softened the blow of your discrepancies in maintaining an unblemished professional image.
“Moving on,” Fury continues. “I want to talk about Project Eagle. As you should know from last year’s report……”
Just then, your phone vibrates in your pocket, with a notification from Natasha’s contact.
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You, indeed, were hard.
Upon reading Natasha’s last message, you shut your phone off so quickly that Steve turns and raises an eyebrow at you. You clear your throat and shift in your seat, evidently affected.
The heat that surges through your body pays no help in your focus on Fury’s briefing. You can feel the flush creeping on from the back of your neck, spreading down your body and rushing towards the area between your legs.
Natasha, why have you forsaken me? You think helplessly, the noises in the office fading to a low buzz. When your phone vibrates again, your finger clicks on the message before your brain can catch up to you.
The image that Natasha sends you has you choking on absolutely nothing, coughing up air like a woman possessed. 
Lacy red lingerie displaying thick thighs and a soft tummy should not be this breathtaking, but Natasha pulls it off anyway.
Filthy images flit into your mind uncontrollably, searing images like a broken record player. Your dick has a mind of its own, pressing hot and tight against the seam of your pants.
“L/N,” Fury announces, voice booming and hauling you out of your trance. “What seems to be the issue?” 
In the background, Steve and Tony giggle like schoolgirls, knowing all too well what had occurred. You clear your throat again, shoving your phone into your pocket, hopelessly trying to erase the blessed image of your wife from your memory, just for a moment longer.
“No issues here,” you say with a forced smile, fighting demons with your rock-hard erection you’re desperately trying to cover with a report file. “I’m all dandy, sir.”
“Right,” Fury says disbelievingly, his good eye flickering downwards for a fraction of a second. Embarrassment eats you up whole.
“Let’s hope your attention span is just as ‘dandy’.”
***
“Natty,” you pant, with your wife pinned under you, hot and tight inside of her.
“I can’t believe you did that,” you grunt, punctuating each word with a firm thrust of your hips. “Made me so fucking hard at work.”
Following your incident in Fury’s office, you had exhausted every fibre of your willpower not to lock yourself in a bathroom stall and jerk off like a nymphomaniac.
After a gruelling day of work and coming back to a house of sleeping children, you had wasted no time in claiming your stake.
“I’ve been blue balled for twelve hours,” you groan into Natasha’s neck, mouthing at the flushed skin with fervour. “Spare me some sympathy, darling.”
“Oh, my poor baby,” your wife teases, tracing a feather-light hand over your tensed back muscles and clutching at the back of your neck. “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”
“Mhm,” you growl, scraping your sharp teeth over her collarbone, leaving violet imprints at a respectable-enough level. You roll your hips into Natasha’s, drawing relentless waves of pleasure and a rocking motion that has her throwing her head back.
Natasha’s erratic breathing and badly-disguised moans are music to your ears, a sweet symphony you’d been missing all day. You groan as her velvet walls clench tight around you, hot and wet and all-encompassing.
“You feel amazing,” you pant, the clefted tip of your shaft bumping against her cervix with how deep you nest inside of her.
A high-pitched whine sounds from the back of Natasha’s throat, as her legs spasm in the air. “Wanna fuck you senseless, please,” you groan.
“Do it,” she challenges breathily. You lean forward, manhandling her deliciously thick thighs, pressing your wife’s knees to her head.
The arousal that builds in your lower stomach is pure white heat, fueled by the breathless cries of your wife under you. 
“Fuck,” you cry out, reaching new spots you haven’t before. You surge forth, an unstoppable train, drilling your shaft into Natasha’s dripping cunt like it was your only reason for living. Because maybe it was, as you transcend earthly boundaries with her, only her.
Subconsciously, your hands fly to Natasha’s hefty tits, grabbing the shaking mounds. “Y’so pretty, babygirl,” you say, half-drunkenly, high of the white-hot pleasure that Natasha draws out of you. 
She’s untouchable heaven, silky moans and raspy cries, a soft tummy with rolls that you greedily grasp in your hands.
“Daddy,” Natasha cries, crescent nails scratching down your arms, her suspended legs shaking in the air. The airy lilt of your title makes you leak. “Ugh, fuck,” you grunt, pounding her into the bedframe, sweaty and slick.
“Let me come inside, please?” you practically beg, wide eyes transfixed at the area your shaft meets her cunt. Natasha whines breathlessly, a hand moving to clasp at the sheets. “Yeah, I-I’m on the pill.”
That’s all the confirmation you need before pinning Natasha down with spread hands. You shift on the bed as you mount her, skin-to-skin with your shaft fully-lodged inside of your wife. 
Natasha gives you this dizzy look, glazed-over eyes portraying complete submission.
Then you start moving again, and the world explodes in your hands.
“Oh, fuckkk,” you groan, shoving your fingers into Natasha’s mouth to stop her pleasured screams from waking up the whole house.
The speed at which you drive your hips into Natasha’s is downright sinful, smearing slick all over her rounded ass, dripping onto the bed.
You’re transfixed, as your wife’s big mounds bounce in time with your thrusts, making you drool with want. An animalistic growl leaves your throat as you push yourself in, even deeper than before, making Natasha arch above the bed with a muffled cry.
Just like that, with you buried inside Natasha, do you fall apart by the seams, an unwinding intricate tarp.
Your load gets buried deep inside Natasha’s womb, and you continue with shallow thrusts. “Mhmn,” Natasha moans, following soon after, spurts of slick coating your cock in waves of overarching pleasure.
“Babydoll,” you groan mindlessly, palming at her sides. You come so heavily that it flows out of Natasha, a dribble of thick white fluid, and your wife fingers it back in so desperately that you could get hard all over again. 
You collapse unceremoniously onto the bed next to Natasha. “I want more kids,” you state. You grope your wife’s tummy like it would conjure new life, an expectant look on your face.
“Three is enough,” Natasha says breathlessly, skin shining with a sheen of fresh sweat. She locks eyes with you, hair tousled and lips curled into an adoring smile.
“Okay, fine,” you mutter your acquiescence, both of you knowing that statement wouldn’t hold up for long. “...Give me a minute, then I’ll clean up. You need some water, baby?”
Natasha lets out a pleased hum, snuggling into your chest.
She kisses your left boob affectionately, as you groan with sensitivity, playfully swatting at her arm. “No need. Just want you.”
“You have me,” you respond softly, running a hand through the brown locks of your wife’s hair, flattening it out with gentle strokes. “You always will.”
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so that's chapter one of 'home is where the heart is!' i personally choose to believe pepper straps tony down every night. what are your thought on the kids?? mommy!nat?? butch!reader?? the incorporation of the texts?? there's so much feedback i require tbh
reblog or no more milf!nat
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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Text
It Couple || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!reader
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GIF by @youremyvioleta and divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: just you and Coryo being the it couple at the academy 🤭
Warnings: fem!reader, idk if there’s anything else
Wc: 691
A/n: pls send thru fic requests for Tom!!!!
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In the bustling halls of the Academy, you, the epitome of popularity, gracefully navigate the sea of admiring glances. You weren't particularly sure what factor of you made you so popular, maybe it was your kindness, looks, money, name? Whatever the reason may be you liked to bask in it, not in the cocky manner.
Your perfectly coordinated and confident demeanor were enough to turn any mundane day into a spectacle worth watching. Coriolanus Snow, the charming heartthrob of the academy, with his disheveled yet effortlessly handsome appearance, awaited you by your locker.
As he caught sight of you, a charming smile graced his lips, and he fell into step beside you. "Good morning, my love," Coryo said, his voice a velvet murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Good morning, Coryo," your replied with a playful smirk, your eyes meeting his as you exchange a knowing look.
The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it added an extra layer of glamour to the 'it couple' status you both held. The title for it really came from a joke by Clemmie at the cafeteria as fellow students from younger years would shamelessly stare at you and Coryo doing such simple things, which in that case, was simply walking to your table.
From that day forward, the title flourished and spread around the academy. Instead of referring to you and Coryo in the context of you being together, they referred the two of you as the 'it couple'. It was quite undisputed, turning heads and sparking envy among your peers.
As you and Coriolanus walk side by side through the halls of the academy, whispers of admiration trail in your wake. Your relationship with Snow was the talk of the academy, maybe even the Capitol due to your high statuses. The two of you becoming a symbol of perfection, setting the standard for others to emulate.
"Snow and Y/l/n, they're practically royalty around here,' a hushed voice echoed from a cluster of students, "I wish I could be in their group for projects, It's like a ticket to instant success,' another voice chimed in.
Meanwhile, Coriolanus slid his arm around you waist, pulling you in a little closer with a smirk on his lips. "Do you see the way everyone's looking at us," he remarked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of pride and mischief.
It was undeniable that Coryo loved the attention. Even before the two of you started dating he would get attention, but now, it was different. "You just love the attention, don't you?" You teased, leaning into his touch.
He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that resonated through the hallway. "Guilty as charged. But it's even better when I get to share it with you, dove." Coryo purrs, his grip on your waist tightening as you giggle.
~
The day unfolded with the usual whirlwind of the classes, but it was during the partnered projects that your unity truly shone. In the lab, you and Coriolanus blended intellect and charm seamlessly, leaving your classmates in awe.
"How do they nail it every time," Io Jasper sighs making those around her chuckle, as they agree after seeing the elaborate model you and Coriolanus crafted. Coriolanus, known for his silver-tongued wit, had a way of making even the most tedious assignments feel like a delightful escapade.
~
Most, if not, all of the Academy's social events became your stage without you giving it much thought, and you and Coriolanus were the headline act. A grand ball celebrating the academy's founding anniversary was the the definition of lavish.
Dressed in a gorgeous dress that rivaled the stars, you walk into Heavensbee hall, your arm linked with Coriolanus. People around the entrance elicit gasps as the spotlight found the two of you.
Arachne rolls her eyes, observing the two of you with a group of friends. "How do they manage to look flawless all the time?" she comments, shaking her head. "It's nauseating." She finishes, tilting her head back to savor a sip of posca. Clemensia chuckles softly, "Well, there's a reason they're known as the 'it couple,'" she says, shrugging casually.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
What would Alastor and his wife's honeymoon be like?
Alive? Alive.
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️ Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive!! Traumatized taxi driver, MISCHIEF
Description: ☝️⬆️
I imagine Alastor wouldn't want to go very far for his honeymoon, liking to stay in the general area should his mother need him
Expect a lake house or cabin, something with fresh open air, water to swim in and all the amenities of home
It'll be beautiful but secluded, just you and your new husband for the foreseeable future
Alastor is positively giddy the entire ride there, unable to stop looking at you and kissing you whenever he can
You would almost be embarrassed if it weren't for the fact that you were just as delirious with happiness
You two could barely keep off of each other, cuddling and holding each other as if scared one of you would dissappear
He's kissing along your arm in an almost cartoonish manner when you two arrive, the taxi driver having to cough awkwardly for his attention
Your husband doesn't even try to look embarrassed, holding you close to him as he pays the driver
Alastor is smug, not at all bothered by the way you blush and clutch at him to hide your face from the flustered driver
He still can't believe that you're his wife now, never having thought he would be the type to marry
He never thought he would enjoy looking for engagement rings or feel nervous at the idea of proposing, but you changed all that
And now he has you as his wife, something that fills him with pride whenever he thinks about it
He will insist on carrying you over the threshold, not matter how much you squirm and blush-he just eats that shit up anyways
Doesn't immediately rush into sex and breaking in the new marriage, instead wanting to help you unpack
Good because you two still need to pay the driver-
"Darling, let your husband carry that~ It's quite heavy~"
"Honey, your wife is capable of carrying a suitcase."
He doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide a fond smile from him
You love this ridiculous man
Alastor does, however, keep pinning you against every bit of furniture and kissing you like it's the last time he'll ever get to
You can't help but wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, turning it into an impromptu make-out session
He leaves you whimpering and weak in the knees each time before going off and getting more of your things
The driver wishes you two would just PLEASE hurry up so he can GO
Please, there's something terrifying about your husband, and you keep coming back more and more disheveled, and is that lipstick on your husband's neck-
The place you two stay at is absolutely beautiful, Alastor having thought of everything he could to impress you
Sun, a cool breeze, flowers blooming and dropping petals all around the property-it's all just quite romantic
He keeps kissing your hand, lips hovering over your wedding ring as he gazes at it with pride
Your first night together as a married couple is terribly passionate and steamy, the two of you finally letting loose all those building urges
All that time together and you had only known Alastor to be a gentleman, not this intense man hell bent on leaving your legs shaking and voice hoarse
Sure, he's just a man, but you're certain you saw a demon in bed with you that night, biting and clawing at any part of you he can reach
Not that you minded, it only served to make everything more real for you, each mark and jolt of pleasure proof that this wasn't just a dream
Plus, you gave back everything he gave you so you two are even
You don't want to get out of bed the next day, whining and clinging to your husband as he tries to get up
"Come now, darling, we can take a hot bath to soothe those muscles then get some breakfast~"
You still pout, but let him carry you to the bathroom, FORCING him to brush his teeth before any morning kisses come your way
The bath is heaven on your body, leaning back against your husband and letting him kiss and nip along your neck and shoulders
He's almost reverent with the way his hands glide over your skin, making you shudder and sigh against his chest
You both get distracted and the water has gone cold by the time you two manage to leave the bath
It's almost like you two are teenagers, giggling, kissing and holding hands like it's something new for you
You two cook every meal together, practically glued at the hip or with Alastor stuck to your back
Insists that you let him try a bite of everything just so he can be fed by you and watch you blush because he's nipping your fingers each time
"I'm going to put a muzzle on you if you keep it up, mister."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darling~"
"You're impossible."
If you wanna go swimming that's great but just know that this man WILL throw his wife into the water
Even if you just happen to mention it then suddenly he's picking you up and walking you out to the dock
"ALASTOR NO!! LET ME GET MY SWIMSUIT ON FI-AAAAAAHHH!"
Has the most shit eating grin on his face as he kneels down to look at you but will flail and lose it if you drag him in with you
"Well, that's a rude thing to do to your new husband."
You just laugh and wrap your arms around him, brushing noses with your husband
"Get used to it, honey~"
Totally no water kisses or almost drowning each other because you guys play too much
If you want to go on a boat ride in the water, then he'll happily do that for you, rowing you out to the middle of the lake
It's absolutely an excuse to push him into the water and leave him out there as revenge for his earlier prank
"Darling, come back! I've learned my lesson!"
All these water shenanigans are totally not an excuse for either of you to hug the other while wrapping them up in a towel
Or laying together under the sun until you dry off
Lots of cuddling together on the porch swing during the evenings to watch the sunsets together and maybe catching a few fireflies
He'll stargaze with you at night as long as you promise to stay glued to his side, he uses the excuse that he needs you for warmth
Maybe it leads to sex under the stars maybe it doesn't, just know he'll have to carry you inside
If there's a hammock, then he will beg you to lay with him and relax, he'll talk to you about anything and everything if you do
You two take naps together in the hammock
He calls his mother at least once a day the entire time you two are on your honeymoon, only to be flabbergasted when she doesn't want to talk to him
"Alastor, honey... I'm fine, spend time with your wife and quit worrying about me!"
It's actually kinda cute to watch him pout and sulk with his head in your lap, stroking his hair to soothe him
"I just wanted to check on her!"
"Yes yes, you're a good boy, Alastor...~"
He just groans and buries his face in your stomach
He takes you out for a lot of romantic walks in the woods, and you're so enamored with how beautiful everything is that you miss the way your husband looks at you
He just thinks you're the most beautiful thing here and can't look away from you, can't believe you're his wife
Every single time you think you're lost, your husband always knows which way to go, navigating the woods with ease
Alastor will carry every cool rock or pretty flower you find, amused by your antics but secretly keeping an eye out for his own forest treasures
He found a small animal skull and was quite proud of it
At some point, all your precious items are dropped on the forest floor, and you find yourself pushed up against a tree and kissed by your husband
His hands purposefully slide up your clothes and you two end up having a quick romp in the forest
You're then half embarrassed and half swooning over the fact that Alastor starts carving your names into the tree you two just soiled
"Are you marking your territory right now? Is that it?"
He just chuckles and shakes his head, concentrating on getting the heart around your names just right
"I'm making it our special tree, so we can always find it when we visit~"
Ugh, how did you get this man to marry you???
You two don't get back until it's dark, when suddenly you have to stop and grab Alastor's arm to keep him from moving
"Did you hear something?"
He's on full alert, immediately wrapping a protective arm around you and gazing into the darkness ahead of you both
He seems almost predatory like this, gaze sharp and intense, you aren't sure if you'd want to run into your husband in the dark
There's the sound of snapping sticks and rustling leaves, getting closer-
He squints and adjusts his glasses before suddenly relaxing and chuckling softly before whispering to you
"Are you scared of a little deer, darling~?"
You peer out into the darkness, following Alastor's arm until you see two deer walking together
You sigh in relief and lean against your husband, who kisses your forehead fondly and rubs your arm
"Do you think they're on a honeymoon too?"
He chuckles and gives you a squeeze, resting his chin on your head as he hums in contemplation
"I don't imagine that buck plans on sticking around, let alone getting married to the doe. He's probably going to leave her as soon as he finds out he's going to be a father."
You snort and roll your eyes at his less than romantic answer, he could've just gone with it
"Hmph. Typical man. Good thing I got the only good one around~"
"Aren't you lucky~?"
You two stay and watch the deer until they leave, heading back to your temporary residence
How are you NOT supposed to be turned on by your husband fearlessly protecting you against an unknown foe?? He doesn't know what hit him as you push him onto the bed-
He dramatically pulls the covers up to his chin later, giving you a shocked look as you slip on your nightgown
"Just what got into you? You USED me!"
He gestures to the fresh love bite on his neck and his clothes that have been thrown around the room
"It's nothing you haven't been doing to me the entire time~"
You give a wink and blow him a kiss before crawling into bed with him, wrapping your arms around your husband happily
He falls asleep first this time and you'll have to take his glasses off so that he doesn't lose them in the sheets
You two don't want to leave when your honeymoon is over, feeling like time flew by too fast
You two help each other pack up, stealing kisses each time you pass each other
You managed to get one more shower together before you had to leave. Miraculously, neither of you slipped during your...activities
It's the same taxi driver as before which Alastor thinks is hilarious because the man so obviously remembers you both
It's a quiet but happy ride back home, the two of your holding hands and sneaking loving glances at each other as you stare out your respective windows
His thumb is rubbing over your hand the entire ride back, brushing over your wedding ring
It still hasn't fully settled for either of you that you're married now, both of you having difficulties imagining getting used to such a fact
But it makes you both happy and you two can't wait to come back here on your anniversary
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HERE! TAKE IT!!
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zhongrin · 11 months
Text
“honey, can you… help adjust my bra straps?”
— how does he react to your silly attempt to fluster him?
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, kaeya, wanderer, tighnari, diluc, kaveh, xiao
◇ tags ◇ gn pronouns but reader has boobs, fluff, crack, suggestive (al haitham, childe, ayato)
◇ a/n ◇ i have no idea where this idea came from but just take it off my hands thanks
𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli doesn't even flinch or blink. he merely smiles that mysterious and handsome smile of his, wordlessly standing behind you to calmly adjust the straps; making sure they’re fitted snugly, not too loose but not too tight, just the way he knows you like it.
he finishes with a soft, intimate kiss to the junction of your neck right after, and if he’s feeling risqué you might even feel a little nibble. it seems like the turns have tabled.
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at your request, al haitham hums airily and does as asked, checking up on you every time he tightened the straps, to make sure they aren’t digging onto your shoulders. when he finishes, he tells you you look good and he can’t wait to pull them off you later in a matter-of-fact manner before going back to reading his book nonchalantly.
well then. guess you’ve gained an unplanned activity in your schedule today.
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childe eyes you with mischief twinkling in his blue eyes, and if he judges that you’re indeed in a playful mood, he’ll slip his hands under your bra to grab your boobs, without any shame whatsoever. he laughs merrily if you protest and try to slap his hands away, but if you do anything borderline scandalous or tease back?
oh, you better be prepared, comrade.
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diluc almost splutters in embarrassment, but he somehow barely manages to catch his composure from slipping at the very last moment.
he’s gentle as he fixes the straps, smoothening the stretchy fabric and making sure he’s not hurting you in any way as he adjusts it to your liking. your fiercely blushing lover presses a kiss to your shoulder when he’s done and avoids your eyes when you thank him.
go ahead, push him more, make him break that composure.
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did you just try and fluster kaeya? welp, unfortunately for you, his instinct is to retaliate by teasing you to no end.
that is not to say that he doesn’t help, however. he’ll still do it, but you best be prepared for him doing so while whispering sweet nothings into your ear all the while. he chuckles when you tell him it’s enough, and with one last kiss on your cheek he walks away - but not before he lightly snaps one of the straps against your skin; not enough to hurt but just as a playful gesture.
better luck next time, darling.
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wanderer rolls his eyes, “do it yourself,” he says with a huff. he can’t blush, but honestly, if he could, he probably would have - because seriously, what kind of stupid request did you just ask him to do??
it’s only when you huff back and threaten him with a hissy “fine then, i’ll just ask someone else.” does he relent.
he does it while grumbling all the while, by the way.
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ayato merely chuckles and proceeds to tease you with a snarky “should i get a maid to help you get dressed from now on, dear?”
he ponders for a while as he touches the soft material and a cunning smile spreads across his handsomeness, along with a half-playful, half-serious, “actually, scratch the idea, i’d rather do the putting-on and taking-off myself.”
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cyno splutters and chokes on his own spit at the sudden request.
for a moment, he’s utterly baffled; was this a normal request one would commonly ask of a lover? he has no idea, but he could never refuse you anyway, so he nervously does it under your guidance, ever so benignly, as if he’s afraid he’ll somehow hurt you in the process.
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tighnari’s reply is as snarky as usual and accompanied by an affectionate roll of his eyes, “alright, your royal highness.”
he plays with the material for a while, trying to gauge your reactions, because he’s almost pretty sure that you don’t need actual help - that you’re just asking to get a rise out of him.
and if he judges that his hunch is correct? well, he’ll still help you, but he might bite you (lovingly) in retaliation.
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kaveh can’t help his sappy ass from crooning and giving you an affectionate back hug while praising your ethereal beauty before actually doing the task you require him to do. he’s talking all the while about how pretty your skin is and how he loves seeing it in its most natural state with every discoloration and bumps and freckles and moles and all its perfection. but god forbid the strap was digging into your shoulder and leaving a red mark on your skin, for he would gasp in horror and offer you to buy a better brassiere that would fit you more with his nonexistent money.
it’s okay, he can just uh- sell some of this stuff. like... his rulers! yes. he can use his claymore to measure things, don’t you even worry!
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xiao teleports away in embarrassment the first time it happened.
the second time, he freezes in place, eyes wide, cheeks bursting in red, before he teleports away into the wind. again.
the third time around, he reacts similarly, only this time, he’s scowling at you with those blushes on his cheeks instead of running away. in fact, he’s approaching you, and he grumbles a soft “you’re definitely doing this to tease me. no respect for the adepti.” his hand trembles as he helps you, but when you kiss him as thanks he thinks perhaps he wouldn’t mind suffering from embarrassment if you’re going to reward him this way.
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
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pearlywritings · 9 months
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In father's embrace
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synopsis: Genshin men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.
pairings: Ayato, Thoma, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy
word count: 7.2k words
a/n: I really wanted to write Diluc and Kaeya, but realized that I can't create something new since I already have a family AU with them. Here's the materlist's link if you are interested! Also you can find the HSR version of this here!
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Ayato 
This man is a dad of twins - a boy and a girl. Both babies took more in their mom’s appearance, but have his soft violet eyes and honestly? This man adores you, his wife, so when he sees your kids develop more and more of your features as they grow - his heart can’t be fuller.
He is a fun and patient dad - he will teach them anything they ask him to, and offer guidance, yet still leaving space for them to learn some on their own. He also enjoys when they sneak into his study during his working hours (because mom decided to take a nap, and Thoma went out grocery shopping, and they are so-so boooooored), letting them wander around the room for the nth time, touching all the trophies and scrolls he has there (all the things that could be of danger were long removed), and when they eventually feel sleepy, crawl closer to him to nap, resting their heads on his thighs while he stays in his kneeling position, writing.
Even if they look a lot like you, it’s so easy to tell that they are his kids - the mischief babbling in their little bodies is untamable for the longest time, and Ayato loves it. Sure, sometimes it is a headache, and mostly for you, but at least they didn’t develop strange tastes in food like their father. More than once they used their similar looks to play pranks on the staff members or their parents, dressing in each other’s clothes and going about their day like that. What does their father think of it? Two words - “promising” and “entertaining”.
They are also their aunt’s absolute delight. Ayaka adores them, showering the two with gifts and attention. And even though she and Ayato are not twins like her niece and nephew - she still feels warmly nostalgic whenever she witnesses their interactions.
Best aunt - thanks to her Vision the twins experienced the joy of ice skating, lessons of etiquette became more fun (though still effective), more days off were granted to her brother to spend time with his family (she practically started stealing his paperwork at some point to fulfill it on her own). She and Thoma are making your life so much easier and for the first time Ayato truly feels at peace and like he is living his life at its fullest. The quiet rooms of the Kamisato Estate are finally filled with joyous laughter and summer warm happiness - his kids are bringing back the light to the gloomily strict atmosphere of the family house.
But sometimes the two only add the workload to his plate in the most wild ways possible.
Ayato closely observes one of his kids - presumably the son - as both the parent and the child are sitting in the room dedicated to the twins’ studying. They have the best tutors Inazuma could provide and both showed exceptional results in all their classes. Even if one of them failed an examination on the first try - the second one was always a success. That was until you walked in on your daughter rewriting her history test, only to discover your son in her place, with his sister’s clothes and blue locks tied in her manner. And that’s when the truth came to light.
Honestly it was no surprise their teachers never suspected anything - only four people could tell the twins apart easily - you, Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma, though the latter had trouble with that occasionally, and your children made sure to speak as similar as possible once the idea of replacing each other appeared. Of which you also learned that day Ayato and you sat them down and urged to tell you everything. The scolding about cheating from you and a lecture from Ayato on the topic of how important it is to do as good as you can on your own were provided, but in the end you just hugged them and said that you do not expect them to be perfect in everything, which left the kids relieved.
But from then on Ayato has been in charge of supervising the twins during their exam retakes. Just like today.
“Public diplomacy, national security, diplomatic etiquette, hm…” the head of the Kamisato clan skips across the paper with questions the tutor gave him beforehand on the latest topic of international relationships. He notices how his child doesn’t fidget and doesn’t even let the eyes run across the room - the straight posture and neutral expression etched on a thirteen-year old’s face is admirable. But he does note the uncharacteristic stiffness. Along with another major thing.
“Princess, where is your brother?”
Eyes widen slightly, but that’s enough to prove that he is correct. He watches his daughter hesitate for a moment, though there is no doubt in his mind that neither of his children would ever lie to him or their mother. And the defeated sigh shows as much.
“Sorry, father,” the girl lowers her gaze in apology. Fishing a hairpin from behind her brother’s kimono lapel, she makes quick work of collecting her hair. Then she looks into his eyes again.
“He is in my room, pretending to be me and probably stressing. Before you ask why we decided to switch - he begged me to.” “Oh?” Ayato puts the papers to the side and rests his chin on an open palm. “Could you please elaborate?” “Remember how we went to the Kujo residence for a playdate?” Her father hums, already getting a vague understanding of what’s going on. “And when we accidentally overheard how the oldest son was being scolded by his father for not doing enough in his studies. And brother got it into his head that if he keeps failing not once but more times, you are going to be disappointed in him. I know he studied for this retake, I helped him with that, but at the last moment he got anxious, and, well, here I am. Like all those years ago.”
“I see,” the man in front of her nods, and she doesn’t see any negative emotion painted on his face. Quite the contrary, he smiles.
“Be a dear, go get your brother and come back together. Change the clothes though. Oh, and tell him I am not mad, okay?” “Okay, father,” she mirrors his smile and relief flashes in her eyes - the girl truly cares for her twin, and that warms Ayato’s heart.
When half an hour later both arrive there is already a table served with tea and sweets, and the head of the Kamisato family immediately invites them to take their seats. His daughter looks calm, which can’t be said about his son - the boy has the most miserable look on his face, holding onto his sister’s hand and staring at the surface of the tea in his cup. Ayato decides to speak first.
“Kujo family is the last people one should take as an example,” his firm, yet reassuring tone makes his son glance at him. “Sure, they are respected, but their methods are too old-fashioned, and the way they treat their children is no good. Do you understand, little blossoms?”
They nod and even if Ayato doesn’t see it, he knows they squeeze each other’s hand.
“You better do, because neither me nor your mother will ever push you to the point of devastation. In studies as well,” the boy bites his lip. “I am serious. I will not be disappointed in either of you if you have to retake one test again and again. Striking for perfection is a good goal, but not when you torture yourself physically and emotionally to achieve it.”
“But father…” his son lifts his eyes and stares right into Ayato’s and it shoots right through his chest how vulnerable the kid looks. “You are perfect. And I don’t want to let you down…” “Me? Perfect? Oh, dear,” the man can’t hold a light laugh back. “Ask your mother and she’ll prove you so wrong, trust me. And none of you is letting me down - you should be proud of yourselves. At such young age you both show bright talents and knowledge - and it’s okay if it’s not the case for every possible field of studies. This is general education, later you’ll get more practice to catch up, or concentrate on your strongest abilities. Listen,” he addresses his son specifically, and the boy cocks his head to the side a little, “be more confident and trust your sister if she insists you are doing well. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and come to me if you feel unsure, alright?”
The boy glances down, letting the words sink in, and Ayato patiently waits. In his mind he admits that it's his oversight - he should've noticed earlier that one of his kids has been struggling. Now he will make sure to change that.
Eventually his son deeply sighs and looks at the adult in front of him with trust reflecting in those pretty eyes.
“Alright,” he nods with a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Slowly standing up and letting go of his twin’s hand, he rounds the table and steps right into Ayato’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around the man’s neck.
“Thank you, father,” he whispers right before burying his face into haori-clad shoulder. “I love you so much.”
And the man smiles, whispering those words back and soothingly patting his back, as the daughter shows him thumbs up with the tenderest look in her eyes.
Thoma
This man is such a sweet dad - nearly cried, when your first child, a girl, was delivered. Same was when a couple years later the son was born too.
Juggling his work and caring for his kids was never an issue for him. A big part of it was played by the Kamisato couple, who allowed him to bring first his daughter and then his son to work, when each of them was old enough. Which, most likely, was what prompted the Kamisatos to have their own kids - one day years ago you and Thoma wanted to have a date night - one you haven't had in a while - and Ayato's wife offered to watch your little baby girl. Does it need to be mentioned she wanted her own kids after that?
Thoma's kids are taught to be polite and respectful, but not overly reserved and quiet, no - in your own house the man would literally let them destroy the kitchen in attempts to bake something as an experiment and then turn cleaning it up into a fun game of three, or four, if you decide to join.
He is that kind of dad, who constantly falls asleep with both kids nestled on his chest and his arms wrapped around them, with a book of tales either lying on his stomach or abandoned on the floor. You literally mastered your technique of waking him up without stirring the kids, so you could bring the two to their rooms.
Your kids love walks, whether it’s in the city or admiring the scenery near the Kamisato Estate. When it’s in the city though, the four of you attract attention without a fail. Especially elders, who coo at the image of Thoma holding his daughter’s hand and you cradling your little boy to your chest. You are literally showered in little gifts and are offered many discounts, because everyone adores and respects your family. At some point for a short period of time a rumor was running around Inazuma City, that if you get to see all four members of the Kamisato retainer’s family, luck is going to follow you through the day. Thoma had to ensure it came to an end, wanting to keep you three safe and not being followed around in your leisure time.
To summarize it’s needless to say that this man is a natural when it comes to being a father. He already aced being a great husband, you never had any doubt that the same would be true about becoming a dad. And it brings you so much joy that your kids are aware of it.
Making your husband's lunch is an essential part of your morning routine. Sure, the Kamisato Estate provides its workers with meals and breaks, but knowing how much Thoma loves your home-cooked meals, you'll never refuse him this pleasure. 
On days like today you pack two more lunches, for your kids - yesterday they expressed their desire to go and help their dad. But you are more than aware of the plan they've had in their mind for the longest time. That's why you turn a blind eye and chop fruits particularly loudly, when you ten- and four-year olds sneak into the kitchen and hide something in the wrapper of an already packed lunch.
And when they were leaving and every member of your family gave you kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the decreased stack of small papers you have in the hall to make notes.
Maybe next time, you’ll ask your kids to join.
Thoma bringing his kids to work is always a pleasant surprise to the Estate’s staff. Even the guards by the gates can’t keep their composure, when the girl cheerfully greets them, wishing a good day, and the boy softly chirps a little “hi” and shyly waves his hand at them. Next person they always meet is Furuta - and the old lady adores their greeting ritual and is the one who looks after the fellow housekeeper’s kids when they help or play outside. But if usually the woman just makes small compliments to the children and chides Thoma for not bringing them over more, today his daughter breaks the routine - she suddenly lets go of his hand and quickly runs to her father’s colleague and asks her to speak in the corner. A bit stunned, the blonde watches the two move farther and start quietly talking. The boy in his arms curiously watches them and then, as if realizing something claps his hands.
“What is it, cookie?” But the only answer he receives is merry giggling.
The next strange thing happens, when the three of them arrive in his room - kids, looking as suspicious as possible, start making excuses to go and play first, though they usually insist on following him around unless they get bored, and as they disappear behind the door with his daughter’s bag - Master Ayato requests his visit. 
Getting out of his office only an hour later, Thoma has to rush to his duties, realizing that he’ll have to speed up if he wants to finish everything the blue-haired man has just told him to do. He even handed him a list with tasks, which never happened. What’s going on?
Not finding the children in his room, he decides to start without them, assuming they'll join him later. Okay, what’s the first thing on the list… Check all the chairs. Alright…
Luckily this piece of furniture isn’t numerous in the residence, giving the culture of Inazuma, and Thoma knows perfectly every single room where he can find them. What he wasn’t expecting to find is the folded papers on the seats of some of those. Upon unfolding each revealed a single letter. Strange… Well, at least the chairs themselves are in the required condition.
Tucking the papers in his pocket and fishing the list out of the other one, the man checks his next destination. Check all the bushes around the main building. Blinking, he looks again. No, the handwriting is definitely his master’s, but the contents? In his style, but why so sudden?
Following every single point, Thoma manages to find in total 13 papers with letters on it, before the list stops being weird and advises the housekeeper to dedicate the time before lunch to his common responsibilities. Which he, with an exhale of relief, proceeds to fulfill.
When the time for lunch rolls around, kids, as if magically, reappear at his side and innocently smile at him, asking how he spent his time. He promises to tell them over lunch.
Lunch, that brings him four more pieces of paper. And suddenly, both kids are not that interested in food.
“Make a phrase, make a phrase!” His daughter chants, holding her brother in her lap, and the little boy claps his hands, chanting ‘make! make!’. Already realizing that all of this was their meticulously crafted plan (to participate in which they managed to convince quite a few people), Thoma doesn’t oppose, putting all the papers on the table in front of him. 
S V E E T S I R H E Y B T
And A P A P which he got from his lunch.
“The” is guessed immediately. “Is” as well. When he reaches for the “A P A P” to add it to the pile, the girl suddenly lunges forward, putting her hand on top of it and shaking her head. Alright, not yet.
S V E E T R Y B is left. Okay, maybe “very” and… “best”!
Moving the pieces around in utter concentration, the man puts the words in the right order. And only then the ten-year old lifts her hand. With a baited breath he moves the four remaining pieces a little more and his heart skips a beat, and the summer-green eyes widen.
PAPA IS THE VERY BEST
“Surprise!” The girl beams with the widest smile, hugging her brother. “We wrote it together! See how some of the letters are clumsy? He did it!” She proudly looks at the boy, gently ruffling his hair. “Recently he was trying to learn how to write! You are the first one who sees it, even mom didn’t! And we chose this phrase, because- dad, are you crying?”
Warm silent tears are indeed running down his cheeks and the man nods, not trusting his voice. A whirlwind of emotions overtakes him, making it a little hard to formulate his thoughts, but he reacts immediately when his kids rush to him, opening his arms and catching them in a tight embrace. He'll tell them how touched he is, he'll praise them, he'll declare his love for them again and again. A tiny bit later. Now he just needs to hold them and hear that he, for real, "is the very best papa".
Alhaitham and Kaveh
Listen, just LISTEN - imagine these men’s pure shock when their wives surprise them over a double date at Kaveh’s house with their pregnancies. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. Kaveh is gaping at his woman, but Alhaitham is no better - a glass with wine frozen in air in the middle of his attempt to put it back on the table as his eyes are not blinking, glued to his spouse. The blonde would be the first one to break from his stupor and tightly hug his wife, kissing all over her face all laughter and little jumping in place, while his junior would finally put the glass down and beckon his woman onto his lap and bury his face in her neck with arms around her body, quietly thanking her for amazing news.
The kids are not even formed in the women’s stomachs, but they already have a story to share.
Alhaitham
Despite not giving the impression the man likes the idea of being a father to a child together with you, his beloved. Of course the pregnancy was planned, but even he couldn’t predict the possibility of you and his friend’s wife being pregnant at the same time. Though he does find it a little amusing and can’t lie to himself that watching you and your female friend discuss the nursery designs, the clothes, the gender, the two babies becoming akin to siblings warms his heart.
He always loved quiet evenings with you, but later, as your bump got more and more prominent, he finds himself craving your back pressed to his chest and his palms cradling your rounding stomach. He talks to his kid in there, reads them books and soothes, when they are restless and don’t let you sleep that well. And that’s how early on you understood who’s going to be the one putting your newborn to sleep, because your persuasions didn’t work that well.
And your husband doesn’t mind. He actually loves cradling his daughter - yes, it’s a little girl! - to his chest and lull her to sleep - it gives him an unimaginable sense of fulfillment.
As your little wonder grows older, Kaveh can’t help but comment how similar her scowl is to her father’s - combined with the annoyed sharp glare of the eyes she also got from him. But that’s only when she is being capricious. Most of the time she is calm and sporting your sweet smile, voice soft and eyes lacking the mentioned above sharpness. 
By the way, she is older than Kaveh’s kid, which makes the Scribe just a little bit smug.
Alhaitham is all too happy to be the one educating her. He makes sure to balance her time spending with him and her time spending with you, encouraging her to engage in your hobbies and have a mother-daughter time. But the most he loves the time the three of you spend together - be it as simple as grocery shopping, having a meal together or cuddling in the evening, or going on whole little expeditions, because his girl wants to explore something on the topic she is currently interested in.
Oh, and he is so biased when it comes to her. There is only one non-scholar kid in all of Sumeru who has her own personal access to the House of Daena, research laboratories, research data and the Scribe’s office at any working hour - and that’s your daughter.
“Look, that’s the Scribe’s wife!”
Taken aback, you stop in your way when at least a dozen students surround you. Raising an eyebrow you survey their faces thoughtfully, noting that they seem to be quite desperate. But even before you can open your mouth they interrupt.
“Tell him to let us in! We have applications to submit!”
“And I have questions why mine was declined!”
“I need his signature on my thesis papers!”
“He locked himself inside with your daughter and said not to disturb their nap! Unbelievable-”
“And how exactly can I help?” You cut through the cacophony of their voices. Students look at you as if you’ve just grown a second head.
“...you are his wife? You can influence him.” “First of all, demanding something from a person you barely know is simply rude,” you narrow your eyes and a chill runs down some of the spines - for a moment you looked just like your husband. “Secondly, I am not involved in his work and I don’t plan to. Now, please, step aside.”
“You can’t be so cruel!”
“Oh, and you can? Let me guess, at least half of you missed deadlines, a small portion made mistakes again and the rest are not in an urgent need to see my husband, but decided to stick with others in hopes that getting to him right now will work?”
Leaving them stunned by your easy guess, you finally push your way through, holding a box with food you brought for lunch close to your chest. Once in front of the door you don’t even have the time to raise a fist for knocking, because the door unlocks and opens, revealing the tall man behind it.
Silently and quickly you step inside and the door shuts again, the key turns in the lock and then is thrown on the nearest table. The office meets you with welcomed tranquility, and dimmed lights are a nice contrast to the blindingly white walls of the Akademiya.
“So, you heard everything? They said you were napping,” you question his guess of when to open the door to let you in. Alhaitham rolls his eyes, glaring at the hindrance you left behind the door, and then takes the box from you.
“I was, but since I lent my earpieces I could hear the commotion in the corridor,” with his free hand he takes yours and leads you further into the room. There, on the sofa, you spot your daughter - wearing her dad’s device and napping, curled under his cape.
“Oh Dendro Archon, she is so adorable,” you coo in awe. “Look how big your things are on her!”
“She demanded I take a break and sit with her,” the Scribe hums, putting the food on the table and then locking both of his arms around you in an embrace. “But the more she was reading to me while sitting at my side, the sleepier she was getting, so we decided to nap.”
You listen to him, while observing your precious girl. She seems serene and content, holding onto the gold-embroidered piece of fabric, surely containing her father’s soothing scent. The earpieces are adjusted to hold onto her head and in silence you can even catch the faintest sounds of a melody. Ah, if only you had a Kamera with you…
“Let’s get her her own earpieces and cape.”
“The cape is unnecessary, but I did consider the device. I could make her her own, especially since she’s been complaining about having hard times to concentrate while she is at the Akademiya.” “But with the cape she’d be just like you!”
“Am I alone not enough for you already?” Light turquoise eyes are hard to read, but you manage to catch a shadow of amusement.
“But matching outfits are charming! Like, remember the last time we’ve been to Kaveh’s? The whole family had matching robes!”
“Then you’ll have to dress like me too.”
“If I am to get an intricate cape and a device to block the sounds of you huffing - I don’t mind.”
Alhaitham huffs. Then stops, realizing he’s just done what you were accusing him of, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Kidding, kidding. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Can you wake her while I am setting the table?”
Your husband nods and, receiving a quick peck to his cheek, releases you from his hold, stepping closer to the sofa.
As you busy yourself with the food, you occasionally glance at the two from the corner of your eye, absolutely swooning over how gently Alhaitham takes the earpieces off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, softly murmurs her name and coaxes her from sleep with the news that mommy came and brought delicious food with her. And when two sets of identical eyes look at you tenderly, a loving smile lights up your face.
Kaveh
Can you see this man sticking his finger in Alhaitham's direction and declaring that his kid is going to be senior to his friend's? Because I can. (Too bad he was wrong).
As well as I can see this man accidentally becoming supportive not only of you but the other man's family as well - and drawing the blueprints for both nurseries is probably only the beginning (but you were the only one whose every suggestion he took without arguing).
From day one his mind is set on being the best dad for your baby, just like he is the best husband to you. He reads books, seeks advice in Bimarstan, even writes letters to his mother in hopes she'll share her experience, that could help you. Though when it comes to shopping for your yet unborn baby, you have to physically restrain him from buying every single cute plushie or onesie he sees. 
When your daughter is born though, it's getting harder, because your own desire to spoil this golden-haired angel is unmeasurable. Maybe it's because she looks so much like your husband and you are projecting your need to shower him in love and affection and give everything you possibly can, but by the end of the day you just simply love her very much.
Kaveh adores doing anything creative with his daughter. She wants a mosaic in a frame on her wall? They'll put it from the little tiles together and Kaveh would hold her in his arms so she could hang it. She wants a dollhouse? They'll spend the time drawing the draft and picking colors and materials for EVERYTHING. And then he'll be building it, while she crafts little furniture. And it doesn't matter if she did it too small or too big - papa will help her adjust it.
But even so, Kaveh doesn't expect his daughter to be some genius or follow in his steps. No, he knows he'll love her even if she stops sharing the creative approach with him. He knows better than anyone how crushing it is to have everyone's expectations to loom over you and predatory gazes watch tirelessly, anticipating the moment you fail. He gives a vow to himself, to you, to your girl, that he will be there no matter what. 
Matching. Outfits. You own so many it's almost worrisome. But your daughter loves them. There were a couple occasions when she drew her own designs for the three of you and you had it tailored, which left her absolutely ecstatic.
On that note, you believe Kaveh's (tiny) fear that she'll lose interest in creativity is going to be short-lived - especially after your visit to Fontaine to let your daughter meet her granny, which the girl spent with wide open eyes and mouth, absorbing everything around her to use it later.
Also having your daughter earned you a heavy supporter in moments when Kaveh starts to overwork. He can't resist the charm of both of his girls and is easily swayed to the nearest sofa/bed to cuddle and share lots of kisses. All his life he has been the anchor for others - now he has two people to be that for him.
Kaveh is easily spooked by sudden noises, and your eleven-year old daughter knows that. That's why she makes sure to tap her feet loud enough to hear their approach through the door of his study. Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and your special dessert in one hand, she lifts the other to gently knock on the door.
"Come in, baby!" Reaching higher she pulls the handle.
The floor littered with crumpled papers isn't a new sight to her, just as her father's hunched back over the properly lit table. But when the door closes, the architect immediately puts the pencil down and turns around, giving her a big smile.
"Hi, sweety," he is beaming, seeing her adorable face and a growing smile, complementing those precious twinkles in her eyes.
"Hi, papa!" She chirps like a little birdie - her actual nickname - and Kaveh nearly drops his head in his palms and cries. How can he be a father to someone so tender?
"Mama said you are working and made you something! I helped," she lifts the tray, showing him what she has. "We hope you will like it."
Oh, he definitely will, he doesn't doubt it. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the edges, the man takes his late afternoon snack and brings it closer to his face, inhaling the sweet smell of the desert and a soothing aroma of the tea.
"Thank you, little birdie," he puts the tray aside and bends lower to wrap his arms around her and smooch her cheek. "You and mama are the best."
"Hehe, we know," she giggles. "You are the best too."
"Awww," Kaveh can't help but nuzzle against her cheek, gaining another giggle and a cute scrunch of her nose.
"Daaaaaaaad!"
"Sorry, sorry, baby, you are just so adorable. Just like your mama."
"But mama says I am pretty like you."
"Both can work together," he assures her, but a soft blush covers his cheeks. No matter how many years have passed, he still gets shy whenever his wife uses "pretty" to describe him.
"Okay!" She simply agrees, giving him a big hug. "Sorry, but I should be going now. Mama wants to go grocery shopping and I want to help her."
Now that she says this, Kaveh pays closer attention to her outfit - the white sundress with pink roses is definitely not something she'll wear at home.
"Alright then, let me escort you downstairs."
Standing up, he easily hoists her in his arms and lets her perch on his left one, as her arms wrap around his neck.
When they reach the hall, the girl has managed to make two braids in his hair, now twisting them around each other. Kaveh finds both her and your obsession with touching his hair amusing, but sometimes it feels nice and relaxing. And you did put him to sleep by scratching his head on multiple occasions.
You, who are standing in front of the mirror, and even witnessing just your profile, the architect is in love all over again. 
He should take you on a date later this week.
"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind that," you chuckle, turning to face him and offering your most teasing smile. Ah, he said the date part out loud, didn't he? "But right now I need to go and take care of our dinner's ingredients."
Your husband nods in understanding and puts your daughter down, dusting the skirt of her dress and making sure everything is intact. Getting a quick peck on the nose, he gives her one on the forehead and straightens up to immediately welcome you into his embrace and share a soft kiss.
“Be sure to take a break and enjoy the snack we made for you. And I mean it when I say taking a break. We all remember how you spilled your morning coffee over the blueprint and had to redraw everything again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
A wild shiver runs down Kaveh’s spine and he feverishly shakes his head. No, if there is one thing he is certain in it’s hating the repetition of this.
“You don’t have to remind me,” his heavy sigh ghosts over your skin. “And it won’t happen again.”
“I believe in you!” You cheer joyfully and it warms his heart.
“I believe in papa too!” Your daughter throws her fists in the air. “Papa can do anything!”
“Of course he can,” you gently nudge her back, ushering her to the front door. “See you soon, Kaveh. We love you.”
“I love you too.”
Waving at your leaving figures he waits until you shut the door and stick the key in the lock, before smiling to himself and returning to his study.
The tea got a little cold and the dessert’s top melted just a tiny bit, but both are still incredibly delicious. Leaning back in an armchair with a plate resting on his knee and a cup wrapped in his hands, the man feels happily at ease and two precious girls are the reason why.
Tighnari 
Frankly, I don't think Tighnari has ever given much thought to becoming a dad, let alone settling down with someone. But taking care of Collei, becoming her mentor, stepping so close to becoming a parental figure, probably played its role as well.
Biggest part, of course, was you - another pretty fennec hybrid, who, due to the same biological background, could share a lot of things with him that the man couldn't and honestly didn't want to bother explaining to others, he sure has other things to fulfill.
It took years of courting from both sides, but eventually, you two settled down together, content with each other as a partner. When the talk of kids happened, the forest ranger was hesitant - he knows he can handle a kid, he can handle ten if required thanks to his immense patience and love for teaching, but since you were different from humans, the man was aware that you could be carrying more than three babies at one time. Even if your body is built to handle it by evolution, he still didn't want to make you go through with so much. Initially. However when you looked so hopeful to have a family with your beloved, swore it's going to be just one time and then you'll keep using protection like before, he was convinced and actually quite excited.
So much nuzzling during your pregnancy. So much nuzzling when the babies are born - three beautiful boys and one girl, with the prettiest fluffy tails and ears of yours or his fur. He immediately jumped to being a father, without any complaint taking care of your kids, while you were recovering. He adores them so much, but at times hardly manages to keep an eye on all four - good thing you moved into a bigger house that is closer to the ground, because little explorers did try to escape outside on multiple occasions.
What gets Tighnari's heart burst like fireworks though? Spotting you napping with all of your babies huddled in your embrace, body practically curled around them and a tail resting on top. The first time it happened - maybe a couple of weeks after you gave birth to them - Tighnari left you alone with the kids to do an examination on the work of forest rangers in his absence, and when he returned back - he nearly collapsed from how adorable the five of you looked. Definitely joined.
From their early age he taught his kids everything about the forest so they would be prepared, and, even he won't ever admit it, it stirred something in his chest when they looked up at him with wonder and fascination in their gleaming eyes. They were also taught to be independent, but at the same time to work as a team, and they are so good at that.
The circle of four is absolutely perfect. Little hands are swift and precise, and the absolute concentration is written on the seven-year olds adorable faces. You and Tighnari even stopped your own grooming of each other’s tails to observe your kids’ routine of doing the same thing, but among themselves.
With four pillows on the floor they once again made themselves comfortable, just like every evening, equipped with different kinds of brushes and safe oils. 
You put your chin onto Tighnari's shoulder, still holding his tail in your lap, with yours resting under his palm, and make a soft sound, loud enough for him to recognize and not alert the kids. Your husband nods, purring in response and rubbing his cheek against your temple.
"They are so adorable, 'nari," you sigh, watching the four being so absorbed with their task that they don't even talk. The male couldn't agree more, lifting the corners of his mouth in a smile and then picking another brush to get busy with the tip of your tail.
"They absolutely got it from you, my dear. And did you notice how much progress they've made in the fur-caring routine?"
Tighnari doesn't see that, but you, still staring forward at your kids, clearly see how four pairs of ears prick up. How cute, someone wants the praise.
"That they did. And I don't know about you, but at the age of 7 I didn't even know that the fur has to be clean and taken care of anyhow. I guess, I never gave it much thought when my mom did it for me. Our little ones are so independent."
Four tails move a little, kids clearly delighted.
"You are right, they are," Tighnari hums, running his fingers through your now well-groomed fur, and your children hold their chins up proudly. "If only this independence didn't extend to trying to escape to the forest on their own against all of my warnings."
Inhumane eyes glare at the frozen bodies of the "explorers" in question, making them lower their gaze and pick up from where they stopped their routine. Oh, they know what they've done.
You can only sigh, fully understanding your husband's concerns, and finish tending to his tail.
Next is the balm you generously scoop onto your palm to rub into the rough texture of your fox-like pads. When you do the same for Tighnari, receiving a tender kiss to your nose, and then to each of your babies, as they walk to you one by one, still with guilty, pouty, but adorable faces, while your husband is putting away all the tools and products.
Soon your bed is occupied with all of your kids, snuggling to your sitting body and drowsily asking to sleep with you two tonight. Even the thought of making a dozen more steps to their own rooms is killing the last energy in them - the routine has an incredible side effect: they immediately become sleepy when they are done and you don't have much trouble with putting them to bed.
Especially when the bed is right here. The bed that became a large one not even a couple of months along their lives, because this has been a common occurrence.
"Mommy, daddy, can we sleep with you tonight, please?" Your daughter lifts her pleading eyes at you, being the one who managed to directly slide into your lap and into your embrace. Three boys, attached to your sides silently lift their eyes too, pouting in attempts to break your resolve. Which wasn't here in the first place.
"What'd you say, 'nari?" Chuckling, you look at your husband climbing onto the bed to join the five of you.
"Weren't we just discussing their independence? They can surely walk to their rooms. Come on, babies, back to your beds."
"Noooooooooo," their hold on you immediately becomes a death grip. "We want to stay with you!"
"Kids, I can't breathe-" you gasp from the crushing hug of at least two pairs of arms squeezing your middle.
"We want to stay, we want to stay, we want to stay!"
"That's what you should've told yourselves earlier this morning when you decided to get to the river with spinocrocodiles. That you want to stay. Home. Until I or your mother could go on a walk with you outside the village."
At his strict tone and at the reminder of them nearly losing their tails this morning to the sharp jaws of wild animals, four little foxes lower their eyes, ashamed. But they do relax their hold around you.
Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples and contemplating when he's going to get his first gray hairs.
"Okay, I'll let you sleep with us tonight, BUT," he slightly raises his voice to emphasize, especially since the four immediately got in high spirits, "if something like this happens again - you are losing this privilege for a week. Are we clear?"
"Yes, daddy…"
"Yeah.."
"Mhm…"
"Sure, dad…"
And that's the only confirmation Tighnari needs before lifting the covers, because no matter how restless and disastrous your children can be - he has almost as hard a time as you do telling them "no".
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95rkives · 10 months
Text
baby fever⼂k.nj
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summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.
parings: bf!namjoon x fem!reader
genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, namjoon is in love
wc: 1.7k
a/n: hi hi! wanted to quickly say i’m on vacation rn, hence the slow updates but! big things are coming soon ;) im so excited to share! for now, i hope u enjoy this short oneshot, im actually so very proud of it, i was giggling, kicking my feet while writing this </3
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"according to statistics, the average individual devotes approximately half a year of their life patiently waiting for traffic lights to transition from red to green."
his statement elicited an amused laugh from you, bordering on a light-hearted scoff. you cast a sidelong glance at him, raising your eyebrows in playful skepticism. "well, that sounds like quite a creative excuse to evade obtaining a driver's license."
a soft chuckle escapes him, his hand playfully swaying yours in gentle synchronization as you stroll along the serene lakeside in the park. "it's true," he asserts, meeting your gaze with a mischievous grin, creating a brief moment of shared complicity before you both resume gazing ahead.
"and besides," he interjects, tilting his head slightly in a contemplative manner "opting for bicycling and walking is infinitely more enjoyable, not to mention immensely beneficial for the environment."
you shake your head in mild disbelief, unimpressed by his narrow-mindedness and his pretentious vocabulary. "well then, i suppose i shall retire from my role as your personal chauffeur—in fact," pausing for dramatic effect, you continue, "i'll go as far as relinquishing my license, selling my car, and indulging myself in that coveted prada bag i've long desired."
that prompted him to throw his head back in a burst of laughter, his eyes brimming with amusement as he glanced at you. "so dramatic," he remarked, gently lifting your interlocked hands and planting a tender kiss on the back of yours, releasing a soft breath of laughter through his nose.
a subtle tsk of annoyance escaped your lips, accompanied by a discreet roll of your eyes as your head turns away from him. you find it impossible to suppress the sly grin that stealthily spreads across your lips.
"you know," he begins, his words trembling with a hint of laughter that gradually subsides. his gaze shifts downwards, fixed upon his own feet, attempting to suppress a smile. "i find it incredibly attractive," he admits, a sly grin playing on his lips as he turns to face you once more, his posture slightly bowed, leaving you weak in the knees. "when you're behind the wheel," he clarifies, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as you avert your gaze, feeling a gentle blush warm your cheeks, however subtle it may be.
"oh, so am i exempt from the rules? can i single-handedly destroy the planet?" you playfully quip, a sly grin playing upon your lips as your gaze roams everywhere but his face.
he allows his eyes to linger on the side of your face for a heartbeat longer, before he subtly clears his throat and returns his focus forward. giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he finally responds, his voice carrying a touch of mischief, "yes," he pauses, a slow, confident grin spreading across his lips, "without a doubt."
laughter spills effortlessly from your lips, and you can't resist playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. the gentle collision causes him to stumble ever so slightly, his balance momentarily disrupted, but a massive grin radiates across his face, unable to be contained.
as your attention drifts away from the conversation, a delightful sight captures your eyes. "oh," you exclaim, unable to hide your enthusiasm. "look, ducks!" a grin lights up your face as you observe mothers and children congregating near the tranquil lake, joyfully feeding these charming creatures.
namjoon follows the direction of your gaze, and a gentle smile graces his lips. he steals a quick glance at you before returning his focus to the scene ahead. "would you like to go feed them?"
without a moment's hesitation, your response is immediate. like an exuberant child, you eagerly pull him along, almost breaking into a jog as you make your way towards the spot where the ducks are already being fed.
your hand slips away from his, and you gracefully lower yourself into a crouch near the edge of the serene lake. in perfect formation, ducks accompanied by their adorable ducklings gracefully glide through the water, forming enchanting lines. the sheer cuteness of the scene elicits a delightful flutter in your heart, filling you with pure joy.
namjoon positions himself behind you, his hands casually nestled in the pockets of his jeans. with tender admiration, he gazes down at you, a radiant smile gracing his features, exuding warmth and affection.
"i have no bread," you pout, or at least that's the conclusion he draws from the palpable disappointment lacing your voice.
“i can go get some; there's a bakery not too far—" his words are abruptly halted by an unfamiliar, yet endearingly tiny voice, capturing his attention. it doesn't take long for him to realize that the voice belongs to a little girl who has appeared nearby.
"would you like to share with me?" the little girl bravely approaches you, and your face instantly lights up with a radiant smile in response to her sweet offer. as she draws near, you realize she stands at the same height as you, since you were crouched down, appearing no older than four or five years old.
“oh," you exhale a soft, melodic laugh, your eyebrows lifting in surprise. "you are so incredibly kind," you remark with genuine warmth, tilting your head ever so slightly. her beaming smile grows even wider upon receiving your compliment, her innocent delight radiating in response.
as the distant calls of what appears to be her mother draw nearer, the three of you instinctively turn to face her.
“ava!" the mother pants as she finally catches up, coming to a stop. "didn't i tell you to stop bothering people?" her face adopts a pouting expression, a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her underlying irritation, her eyebrows slightly furrowing.
“but, mom," ava whines in such an adorably plaintive tone that it elicits a shared snicker between you and namjoon. "she doesn't have bread!" she huffs, her frustration evident, prompting the mother to heave a sigh of surrender.
“i'm truly sorry," the woman interjects, her eyes shifting between you and namjoon, offering apologetic smiles. "she's been going around handing bread to everyone she meets—"
“please, there's no need to worry," you assure her, your voice carrying a gentle tremor of laughter. your attention then shifts back to the little girl before you. "how about we feed them together?" you suggest, employing the softest, most endearing tone you can muster, aiming to ignite a sense of excitement in the young one. it proves successful as ava nods eagerly, brimming with anticipation.
with a carefree grace, she positions herself in front of you, leaning back casually against you. in response, you wrap an arm around her, your palm tenderly resting on her stomach. the scene proves to be utterly captivating, prompting namjoon to bite down on his lip in an effort to contain his smile—or perhaps even a squeal. either way, he finds the sight undeniably adorable, melting his heart in the process.
the mother approaches and stands next to namjoon, casting a smile in his direction before her gaze shifts to her daughter and you. her eyes brim with curiosity as she poses the question, "girlfriend? wife?"
although caught slightly off guard, namjoon responds with a warm smile, a sheepish laugh slipping past his lips. he looks down at you once again, his eyes sparkling with affection and adoration. almost dreamily, he confirms, "girlfriend." the woman chuckles softly, captivated by the enchanting connection between the two of you.
completely unaware, you wholeheartedly engage in feeding the ducks with ava. together, you toss pieces of bread onto the lake, captivating the ducks' attention. to your sheer joy, one of the ducks emerges from the water and gently takes bread from ava's hand, prompting her to squeal in pure delight. your laughter harmonizes with hers, forming a symphony of happiness and carefree bliss.
namjoon's heart leaps, skips, and dances within his chest, each beat amplified in intensity. the way you engage with ava, emanating an innate gentleness and kindness, strikes a chord deep within him. it's a tender scene that tugs at his heartstrings, leaving him captivated by the beauty of your nurturing nature.
lost in his captivated state, namjoon remains oblivious to the fact that you have risen to your feet, gracefully making your way towards him. only when ava runs back to her mother's embrace does he snap out of his reverie, his gaze shifting to you as you approach him with a gentle grace.
you come to stand beside him, and almost instinctively, his arm drapes over your shoulders, drawing you close as you face the mother and daughter together.
“now, say thank you,” the mother playfully prompts ava, gently swaying her in her arms. her smile extends towards you, and in a shy, sweet whisper, ava utters her gratitude, causing your heart to soar with joy.
“thank you," you reply, placing emphasis on the word 'you.' "without you, i wouldn't have been able to feed the ducks." your smile radiates with warmth and tenderness as you gaze at the little girl, a soft giggle escaping your lips, filled with genuine appreciation and delight.
engaging in heartfelt conversation, you share a few more words with the mother, building a connection even in the brief encounter. the exchange concludes with beaming smiles that radiate warmth and gratitude, as you bid each other farewell, the memory of the delightful interaction lingering in your hearts.
as you observe them walking away, namjoon's gaze shifts towards you, a sly smile gracing his lips. his hand tenderly caresses your shoulder, moving up and down in a soothing gesture as he speaks. "you would make an exceptional mother,"
the tone of his voice catches your attention, drawing your gaze to meet his. as you lock eyes, you notice the way he slightly purses his lips, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he's trying to contain a smile. with a knowing glance, you quickly catch on.
“absolutely not.”
“wait—” he bursts into laughter as you shake his arm off your shoulders and begin walking away. however, he swiftly follows suit, reaching from behind to wrap his arms around you, creating an endearing obstacle that makes it more challenging for both of you to walk
“you're absolutely insane," you playfully groan as he showers your neck, shoulder, and cheek with gentle kisses. he nuzzles into your hair, emitting a soft giggle that resonates with warmth and affection.
"one child won't hurt," he whispers softly, his words carrying a hint of mischief. you start to wiggle in an attempt to break free from his embrace, but he only tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you escape his affectionate hold.
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Kinkmas (4)- Cookies And Cream
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Wanda X Reader 18+
Summary:  Whilst attempting to bake festive cookies with Wanda, the two of you end up getting a little 'distracted.'
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Christmas Cookies, Baking, Smut, Dom Wanda/Sub Reader, Fingering, Magic Strap on, Spanking, Multiple Orgasms, Kitchen Sex, Hair-pulling, Brief Choking, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex
Kinkmas Masterlist
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A soft hum left your lips as your body subconsciously swayed to the tune of the Christmas music softly spilling from the speaker, your hands carefully placing the tray of cookies into the oven ready to bake, your smile stretching at the festive shapes of them. Your personal favourite was the Christmas tree shaped ones, your mind running wild with ideas of how to decorate them, hands instinctively opening the cupboards to grab the ingredients needed to decorate the various styles of sugar cookies.
Wanda had helped you use the range of cookie cutters, the two of you having fun with trying all of them out, the tray swiftly filling with bare snowmen, stars, Christmas trees, Santa hats and more, smiles engraved onto your faces the entire time you were together.
As you were opening the bag of icing sugar to make the various colours to decorate with, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her body as her head rested against your shoulder, watching your hands measure out the appropriate amounts for each bowel.
"Hey Detka," Wanda murmurs after returning, having taken off her thick jumper which leaves her in a simple black tank top and the matching pair of pyjama pants you convinced her to wear, your gaze briefly wandering down to where her bare arms were snaked around you.
"Hey love," you whisper back, tilting your head to the side for a kiss, pecking her lips innocently before returning to the task at hand, silently relishing in the comfort her body provided. Her body stayed glued to yours as she watched you make the first bowl of vibrantly coloured icing, you relaxing against her embrace momentarily as her hands slid under your shirt, caressing the skin in an affectionate and tender manner, fingers gently drawing idle circles against your warm body.. "Does my sous chef want to help again?" you murmur after a while playfully, lolling your head back against her in demand of another kiss, craving another after all the 'hard' work you put in to make the dish filled with green icing.
She smiles and chuckles softly against your lips, her arms that were snaked around you slipping away as she moves to stand opposite you at the kitchen island, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You want to be disappointed at the lack of physical touch as she moves away, bringing with her the items needed to help you make the frosting for the cookies she was eagerly waiting to taste, but the look in her eyes distracts you.
"Sous chef?" she asks humorously, both of you knowing exactly who the true chef was between you. "Are you sure about that, Detka?" Her tone amused as she slides a spoon out of a drawer, ready to mix in the milk and vanilla extract into the powdered sugar, your smile engraved on your face as you can't help but stare at her adoringly.
You hum in response, biting down on your lower lip to try and suppress your smile, Wanda letting out another angelic laugh as she shakes her head at your antics.
The room is then encased in the festive spirit once again as the two of you work silently, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere as Christmas songs fill the air. Your eyes occasionally meet, her green softening at your loving gaze as you watch her make the bright red coloured portion of icing, the white gradually turning the desired colour as the colouring is swirled into it. Your gaze however swiftly flickers over to her arms as she stirs the spoon in the thick substance, forearms flexing slightly as she drags the spoon through it, the vein in her hand protruding slightly causing a series of sinful thoughts to briefly flicker across your mind. God her arms were sexy.
You managed to keep your thoughts at bay to a certain extent, the smirk playing on Wanda's lips implying she'd still heard them, but you didn't notice that as your gaze travelled higher up her toned arms, watching how the muscles moved subtly. Your attention was only diverted away when she moved to cross her arms over her chest, consequently pushing her breasts up, your gaze briefly flicking to them before meeting her gaze with a sheepish look, her brow raising at your red cheeks.
"Enjoying the show?" she teases, chuckling softly as you return to making another colour of icing by adding the orange food colouring for the snowmen's noses, acting coy.
"I always do," your tone soft as you meet her gaze again, the green enticing you in and luring you into staring at them forever. You'd always watch Wanda make the dinner for the two of you, usually sitting on the countertop as she explained the dish, occasionally teasing you about your lack of cooking skills to which you'd always laugh at.
The gaze lingers as you continue to get lost in the eyes you love so much, a wave of arousal flooding through you when you notice them darken, an idea entering your girlfriend's mind as your legs squeeze together as she looks like she wants to absolutely ruin you. When her mouth parts slightly, you expect her to tell you what to do, to order you onto your knees or bend over the island, but instead she merely teases you, wanting you to be desperate before giving into your fantasies.
You watch with lust filled eyes as she swipes her finger into some of the white icing left, the sweet treat slowly dripping down her finger as she raises it to her lips, effortlessly sliding it into her mouth and moaning softly at the taste. Her eyes stay trained on you as her cheeks hollow slightly, tongue swirling around her finger to lick it clean, your own mouth parting at the sinful sight of her.
"Mhmm delicious," she hums out innocently, swiping another bit of the icing and repeating the action, your legs squeezing together harder at her sultry look. "Although," she starts, smirking a little as she pushes herself away from her position at the island, walking around it at a leisurely pace, revelling in how you watch every movement, every sway of her hips in an mesmerised manner, "I know something else that tastes even better." Her arms wrap back around your body, her mouth purring the words into your ear making you groan at her suggestive words, a surprised noise leaving you when you feel the strap on now placed between her legs, red tendrils of magic dissipating into the air after she conjured it.
"Wanda," you sigh out, pushing your body back against her and the toy, a low groan escaping her, the noise going straight between your thighs. "Fuck, is it...?'' Your words trail off as she grinds her hips into you, softly moaning at the shell of your ear as she can feel everything through the toy, her powers enabling her.
"Yeah," she husks out, her hands sliding down your body, caressing the skin at your waist softly before pulling your body back against hers, your hands gripping onto the edge of the marble countertop for support. "I can't wait to fill you up Detka," she rasps out, kissing your neck lewdly as you give into her, the incessant throb between your legs too much to handle.
"Please," you sigh out, lolling your head back against her shoulders, eyes peering up into hers submissively, "I need you inside me." Her lips instantly pressed against yours at the way you practically whimpered your words, her resolve quickly crumbling as she was just as desperate as you were at this point, her firm hands squeezing your curves as her hips pushed harder against you, pinning your body between her and the countertop.
"You want me that bad Detka?" She chuckles out lowly, teeth scraping the side of your neck, warm mouth pressing against your skin, the touch sending arousal straight through you, your hips pushing back against her to emphasise your want for her. You can feel her lips pull into a smirk as your actions, one of her hands sliding up your body to rest against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head back so she could ghost her lips against yours. "Tell me what you want," her tone dropping an octave, accent wrapping around the words and adding a gentle rasp as her green are utterly consumed by lust and desire.
"Fuck me," you sigh out, "Please," eyes fluttering close as her lips brush over yours, not quite pressing hard enough to give you the satisfaction of feeling them passionately moving against yours. "Bend me over and show me I'm yours," your tone a mere whisper, her mouth crashing to yours as she swallows the soft whimper that escapes you at the intensity of the kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth while her hands move to your pyjama pants, effortlessly sliding them down your legs.
With every touch, you felt your body burn at the sensation, heat building swiftly at the pit of your lower abdomen as her fingers slid your panties to the side, wasting no time in thrusting a finger into you, wanting to stretch you out.
The moan that escapes you is nothing but sinful, the pathetic noise eagerly swallowed by her mouth as she works her digit inside you, curling it perfectly against your sweet spot and causing pleasure to spark through you, your mind struggling to focus on anything but her.
Your knuckles bleed white with how hard you were gripping the countertop for support, hips trying their best to rock against her hands as she groans into your mouth at the way you already clench around her desperately, your mouth parting, lips lingering against hers but not kissing as a groan is torn out of you, her smirking against you at the noise. Her lips trail along your jaw as you struggle to kiss her back, her thumb reaching around your body to circle your clit a few times, your hips bucking against her as your legs try to squeeze around her hand, her other one easily parting your legs.
"Please," you moan out when she slides in another finger, thrusting them together inside you a few times before her free hand moves to between your shoulder blades, pushing your body forwards against the countertop.
Her magic slides everything nearby on the table out of the way, the red fading in the air as you're bent over the marble island like you wanted, hands reaching across to the other end as you knew you were going to need to grip onto something.
"I hope you know that I'm not going to be gentle," her tone is soft as one of her hands gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body all ready for her.
"That better be a promise," you chuckle out, her hand tugging on your hair to drag your head backwards slightly, her other hands positioning the toy at your entrance.
A shaky breath leaves her as she feels how wet and aroused you were with the tip of the toy, the warmth and wetness fogging her mind as she teasingly grinds the toy against you another few times, waiting for you to plead with her.
"Wanda, please- Fuck," your words are cut short as she thrusts the toy into you with a powerful snap of her hips, a low groan escaping her at the feeling of you so tightly wrapped around her, her hips flush against yours as she savours the pleasurable feeling. A moan leaves you as she fills you up completely, fingers pressing hard against the countertop as she pulls her hips back until only the tip of the toy remains in you, a small, low curse leaving her lips before she thrusts it back in, both of you moaning once again.
The room quickly fills with the lewd sounds of your moans, pants and the sound of the toy repeatedly being drilled into you, her pace merciless and rough as promised, her hands gripping your waist tightly as she pounds into you in the middle of the kitchen.
"Shit," her tone low as her eyes can't tear away from the sight of her cock being swallowed by your cunt. "You're taking me so well Detka," she pants out, her hands guiding your hips into a slightly different position, the toy reaching even deeper inside you and hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust.
"Fuck," you practically scream, clenching around her hard and making her buck her hips into you roughly, a desperate noise being dragged out of her. "Just like that, shit, harder," you beg, her hand pulling on your hair harder as she somehow increases the force behind her thrusts, a broken noise escaping you at the pleasure that floods through your body.
Unable to stop herself, her free hand spanks you roughly, knowing just how you like it earning another loud noise to reverberate around the room, your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure consuming you.
"Please, again," you whimper, her hand roughly colliding with your other cheek, a red mark forming where her hand had just spanked, her dominance somehow making you even wetter at the mix of pain and pleasure.
The combination of her brutal thrusts and her harsh spanks clouds your mind, body acting on its own as you try to push your hips back in time with her movements, a string of moans and chants of her name spilling from your lips, your orgasm rapidly approaching.
"I'm so close," you pant out, another spank sounding around the room, your body jerking at the sensation, a whimper falling from your lips. "Please," her hips continue to snap into you, her hand still tugging on your hair, the other moving to hold onto your hips as she can tell you're struggling to support yourself, pleasure being the only thing your brain is comprehending.
"Come for me," she husks out, a guttural noise leaving you as you clench desperately around the toy, walls spasming around her as waves of pleasure and euphoria crash through your body. You fall over the edge into a powerful orgasm, body trembling in her grasp as she slows her thrusts down, a moan escaping her as she tries not to come in you just yet, her hips gently rolling into you. "Fuck," she curses, voice a mere pant as she feels you clench around her again, a small whine leaving you when she pulls out suddenly, hands moving your body.
A thrill is sent through your body when she manhandles you into a new position, having you sit on the edge of the countertop with your legs spread, eyes blown with lust as you watch her hungrily while she positions the toy back at your entrance.
"You feel so fucking good," she husks out against you, tilting her head to meet your lips messily, the kiss a clash of teeth and tongue as you passionately steal each other's breath away. You moan lewdly into her mouth as she thrusts her hips into you again, filling you up perfectly making your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging in. "All mine," she mutters, biting down on your lower lip and dragging it down, eventually releasing it before letting her tongue sooth over the dull pain, a whimper leaving you at the action and the feeling of the toy pumping in and out of you.
"Yours," you moan out, her lips relentless against yours, hips incessant as she chases her own release, driving you towards your second simultaneously. One of her hands goes to brace her body above yours, resting on the countertop, the other moves to your throat, fingers resting against the underside of your jaw as she directs you to look into her eyes, a new wave of arousal and heat flooding through you.
"You want me to fill you up, Detka?" She purrs, her rhythm starting to falter a little, speeding up as she nears her release, an affected sigh leaving you as the mere thought of her coming in you has your head spinning.
"Yes," you immediately reply, "Please do, please come in me," your tone laced with desperation and submission as she groans, crashing her lips to yours as your body nears your own release, ready to fall over the edge with her.
"Fuck, I'm coming," she groans, hips stuttering into you as thick spurts of cum fill you up, her hips pressing further into you as her body towers over you, pushing you harder against the island as a string of moans leave her. A moan spills from your lips at the euphoric feeling of her emptying inside you, thrusting gently into you as you follow her and crash into your orgasm, pleasure taking over all your senses as she hides her face at the crook of your neck, panting against your warm skin.
Ragged breaths take over the room as you relax against each other, one of your arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders while the other goes to her hair, fingers softly scratching her scalp, her lips tugging up into a small smile against your skin. Her arms have snaked around your body, pulling you close for a soft embrace as you both try to recover after your powerful orgasms, your head leaning against the side of hers as you remain locked in a state of bliss. Your eyes gradually flutter open, flickering away from the ruffled hair by your head to the clock on the wall, eyes instantly widening.
"Shit," your tone immediately grabbing Wanda's attention, head pulling away from the safety of your neck, "The cookies," the panic in your tone and wide eyes instantly causes Wanda to laugh softly, the angelic noise making your brows furrow as she simply kisses your forehead, chuckling as she lingers at the spot.
"I turned the oven off earlier Detka," she reassures, your eyes having missed the red tendril that ensured the cookies didn't burn while the two of you were preoccupied, relief flooding through you as you were rather excited to try them.
"Oh," you mumble a little shyly, her lips pecking your lips once more, the two of you inevitably smiling against each other, an idea popping into your mind as she still remains inside you, "Well..." You trail off, Wanda's brow raising at your tone, "As the oven is still off, we might as well have a round three."
Another chuckle leaves her as she shakes her head at your antics, kissing you softly and answering your question as she lifts you off the island, carrying you towards the sofa and pinning your body between her and the cushions.
"We might as well," she mumbles playfully, starting to thrust her hips back into you, moans filling the room once again as you lose yourself within each other once again.
The cookies were going to have to wait until later. 
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vampsywrites · 9 months
Note
Can you do one where Ao'nung is an asshole with everyone but his wife/courted. Like he'll forget to use manners, one gentle but reprimanding tug of his ear and he adds a, "please" to the end of his sentence.
I can see Ronal finding this very amusing.
my soul, you really took my soul
synopsis: moments where fishlips is soft for you <3
tags: established relationship, kissing n making out, lo'ak trying to impress fishlips, i believe in whipped! ao'nung supremacy
author's note: sorry for the late response! my laptop exploded <3
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Your laughter filled the air as Ao'nung planted warm kisses across your face, his large hands cupping your face delicately.
"Hmm, Ao'nung," you purred, a soft grin adorning your lips as you inclined your head, reveling in the tender affection.
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this precious moment. But even amidst the sweetness, a gentle reminder of reality pulled you back.
"There are people around," you managed to say between your laughter, fully aware of the curious eyes that might be watching your affectionate display with the chief's son.
"Yeah?" Ao'nung's mischievous smirk only grew broader, his eyes dancing with a playful glimmer as he cast aside any concerns. He pulled you in even closer, his hands resting upon your hips as he drew you into a deep kiss.
"Let them watch then," he grinned, his fangs lightly grazing against your bottom lip as he spoke.
Just as the two of you were fully immersed in this intimate moment, it was abruptly interrupted by a shout.
"Fishlips!" Lo'ak called out, brandishing a fishing net, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction.
Ao'nung cursed under his breath, distancing himself from your embrace as he directed a scowl towards Lo'ak.
"What?" he snapped, his voice tinged with impatience, yearning to be away from the unwelcome disruption.
Undeterred, Lo'ak displayed his spoil. "Look what I caught," he smirked, raising the net filled with a writhing dinicthoid for all to see.
Even from a distance, the creature's appearance was apparent, with its gargoyle-like features, beady red eyes, and razor-sharp teeth. Despite its dangerous allure, the dinicthoid held great significance to the Na'vi, and capturing one during the hunt was a testament to a warrior's bravery.
"Got it on the first try," the Omatikayan boasted, dropping the squirming fish at Ao'nung's feet with a resounding thud.
Ao'nung regarded the catch with narrowed eyes, a trace of admiration flickering beneath his facade. "Must have been a lucky shot," he grumbled, trying to downplay his surprise in front of Lo'ak.
Tutting softly, you reached out and lightly swatted the side of his head, a gesture that only you could get away with. Ao'nung felt a mixture of embarrassment and affection as he gazed at you with mild bewilderment.
"Come on," you said, your tone light. "Give him some credit. Lo'ak provided for the clan, and we should appreciate that."
Ao'nung sighed, ears flickering back. By your command, he turned back to Lo'ak and offered a begrudging nod. "Well done, forest boy," he mumbled, attempting to conceal the annoyance that gnawed at him.
Satisfied with the acknowledgment, Lo'ak swaggered away, his pride evident in every step.
"Finally," Ao'nung huffed, a mix of relief and exasperation in his voice. He turned to you, a slight smile forming at the edges of his lips, as if your presence could chase away all his frustrations. "Thought he would never leave."
"Well, now he has," you replied, a glimmer of mischief dancing in your eyes as your tail playfully trailed up his thigh. "Now, where were we?"
Ao'nung's gruff exterior melted away, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to meet you halfway. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his embrace.
As the night settled in, the village gathered around a crackling fire, its warmth and light creating a cozy atmosphere. The scent of roasted fish wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic beat of drums. The clan was in high spirits, celebrating the fresh snd successful hunt.
"Right here," he whispered, voice a gentle rumble as he connected his lips to yours.
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You sat beside Ao'nung, eating with him from your shared plate. It was a routine you two had grown used to after so many years together. He had always appreciated your presence, finding comfort in the familiarity of your company amidst the bustling celebration. The way your laughter blended with the melodic chants and the soft murmur of conversations added to the sense of belonging and togetherness that filled the air.
"Yawne," Ao'nung called out, his attention momentarily drawn to his meal. "Pass me that sauce."
Instead of obliging immediately, you gave him a playful look, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you reached up to pinch at his ear. Ao'nung jerked back, letting out a grunt of pain.
With a knowing expression, you met his gaze. Understanding your unspoken message, Ao'nung heaved a dramatic sigh of defeat.
"Ma'yawne," he called out again, adding a hint of contrition in his voice. "Please pass me that sauce," he grunted out, emphasizing the word you oh so wished to hear.
"That's better. It doesn't hurt to be polite," you grin, fingers brushing against his momentarily as you passed the bowl, sending an electrifying warmth coursing through him.
Your smile widened, and you reached for the wooden bowl with a nod of approval.
Ao'nung grumbled good-naturedly, but his heart swelled with warmth as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle, pulling you flush against him. The little tug-of-war between you had always been a part of your relationship, and it was something he treasured deeply even if he didn't say it out loud.
Across the table, both Ronal and Tonowari watched the scene before them in amusement. No matter how many times they saw it, your interactions and dynamics were always so entertaining to them.
Ao'nung notices their states and turns to them with a irked look, brow raised, "Is there something you need?"
"No," Ronal hums, lips curling into a half-smile at her son's annoyed glower, "We are just glad someone has finally managed to tame you."
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lucvly · 2 months
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SWAN SONG. ( chris sturniolo. )
warnings › straight up smut SORRY. dry humping !! 😁🌟 horny chris brainrot, i apologize. NOT PROOFREAD.
author’s note › this is absolutely an edited draft LMAO but take this as a peace offering while i work on the next chapter of 7 hours <3. i was actually gonna continue this but i got lazy soz.
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chris’s hands traveled to your hips, pulling you on top of his lap, accommodating you in a straddling position on his gaming chair, your immediate reaction being to wrap your hands around his neck, one of your hands softly gripping onto his hair.
a half smirk was plastered on his face, leaning into your neck as his hands went to grip your waist, his mouth almost attacking your neck. after all, you deserved it after having to watch him game almost all afternoon. he was well aware you’d been feeling a little neglected after acknowledging his almost omniscient presence as he played, with soft sighs escaping your lips in an intent to get him to shift his attention to you.
he’s noticed this, of course, he’d be stupid not to. he just decided it’d be a tad bit more fun to play around with you for a little while, letting the tension accumulate in the air as your glance made its way down to his skillful hands, moving around the controller in a way that made your thoughts shift elsewhere.
his brothers weren’t home, which made it more convenient for you to be in his room. for the most part, you kept each other as a secret, that’s just how it was between you. neither of you had brought up the conversation of a label because it wasn’t at all relevant when his hands and mouth were put to good use.
he continued his work on your neck, whispering sweet nothings into you as he marked you up. your head was clouded and hazy, not realizing this would mean a headache in the morning while having to cover his mess with concealer, lazily and drowsily having to graze the makeup brush against your skin. but to be honest, that was the least of your worries when he was sweet talking his way through it, the honey dripping from his words causing an impact straight on your core.
“you’re so gorgeous,” he spoke in a deep slightly raspy voice, causing your core to almost throb, your hips uncontrollably rolling down onto him ever so slightly, his cold hands roaming under your shirt and making their way upward, making it his personal mission to caress every part of your body that his hands managed to roam– from the hem of your shirt, up to your abdomen, and finally residing on your breasts, which made you let out a small whine in response.
“you like that?”
all you could do was nod. he knew your short and breathy response was an indicator he should keep going, and he did, his hands massaging your breasts gently, carefully observing how your mouth slightly opened and your head started to very slowly and slightly move back. however, your response somehow seemed to unsatisfy chris, longing for a more verbal reply from you.
“use your words, angel. wanna hear you say it.” he encouraged, sweetness eradicating from his voice– though his actions had a sense of mischief to them, his palms slowly sliding down to your hips again in a teasing manner, waiting for you to explicitly tell him what you wanted.
“yes. please– chris,” your whines came as such a desperate plead, almost nearing begging in a sense despite only saying two words, your hands made their way around his neck, attempting to get some sort of friction even if it meant through your clothes, a shaky gasp escaping your lips as your core rolled onto the tight tent straining against his pants.
just by looking at your blissed out expression, head slightly thrown back and the small gasps that left your lips he was sure he was about to bust in his grey sweatpants, which already had a small stain of precum on it from you straddling him– the compromising position and the roll of your hips onto his made it even more difficult for him to control himself, allowing his hands to grip onto the sides of your hips a bit more tightly, guiding the movement of your hips down onto his crotch, letting out a low groan that if you paid a bit more attention, would almost be a whimper.
“that’s it, you’re doing so— fuck, good.” he had to interrupt himself unintentionally, your soft sounds going straight down to his dick, wishing you were unclothed so he could get a direct feel of the slick he knew was coating your pretty folds and making a mess in your lace panties.
“please,” a low whimper fell from your lips at the contact of his bulge against the fabric of your panties, creating even more friction between the both of you as your hips rocked back and forth following the pace he was setting as his hips started to meet your movements halfway, rutting upwards ever so slightly to create a more pleasant sensation.
he knew exactly how to make you feel like you had electricity going through your body, your head clouded with so many different thoughts yet nothing at all at the same time, completely lost in the feeling of his restrained bulge sliding against your clothed, yet evidently wet core.
chris’s head started to feel like it was spinning, and you could tell with the way his eyes were rolling almost to the back of his head with every roll of your hips and whisper of his name– he was fucked out. the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the soft, shaky breaths that came from his lips were an evident indicator of the loss of words he was in, more so lost in the feeling of pleasure, the feeling of you, enjoying and deeply savoring each and every second you allowed his hands to grip your hips and pull you down onto him.
one of his hands roamed further down into your panties, finally desperate enough to feel you to the extent he had to give in and touch you where you most needed it. his hand slid gently moved your panties to the side, and he let out a shaky breath as he felt the lace his fingers were touching.
“so wet for me,” his voice was the slightest bit shaky– being careful with his choice of words because surely enough, at this point, he was on the verge of reaching his orgasm without even being touched. “atta girl.”
despite his hand starting to rub onto your nub ever so gently yet at a speed he could only manage, rubbing the bundle of nerves in a way that made your head spin, you continued the movement of your hips, and so did he, meeting you halfway, his free hand still holding onto your hip, helping your movements increase in speed as both your noises started to echo through the walls; his grunts, your whimpers of his name, his whines, it all sounded so incredibly pornographic.
“shit— baby, fuck, slow down–” he attempted to plead for you to slow down, although he was the one setting the pace by keeping his hand on your hip and his fingers on your clit. his breaths suddenly started to feel heavier than before, gasping softly before you felt a slight sticky sensation below you, alongside feeling his legs tense up before giving out, his fingers stopping their movements for a second as his head leaned back on the headrest of his gaming chair.
you looked down at the mess your fluids had made, especially his, staining his grey sweatpants with spots of cum– you couldn’t believe you’d just made him come undone for you without even touching him in the slightest. it definitely made you proud, knowing the effect you had on him was certainly endearing, and you couldn’t help the smirk that started to creep up onto your face as one of your hands traveled up the nape of his neck to play with small strands of his hair softly, helping him get through his high before letting out a low giggle.
“you think that’s funny?” he asked breathily, his tone obviously playful as a half smile appeared on his face while he leaned up slightly to press a quick but loving kiss onto your lips, leaning back down on the chair, staring up at you with glossy eyes, cheeks tinted a deep shade of pink.
“maybe.” your reply was quick, but he could sense the teasing tone you were implying, accompanying your sentence with a shrug of your shoulders just to add a little attitude.
“alright, my turn then.”
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kamesama · 7 days
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— ravishing: ryōmen sukuna.
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— notes + warnings: human! husband! sukuna x wife! reader. slightly suggestive. domestic bliss because i am a self-proclaimed domestic fluff provider™ for a reason. — word count: 1094
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he was lounging on the sofa, phone in hand, crimson eyes seemingly deeply immersed in whatever was on-screen. the remains of his coffee had gotten cold, but he held onto an unspoken intention to finish it within the upcoming minutes. there was little to no fatigue clinging onto him, but the aftermath of his day stained his frame nonetheless; the pair of buttons undone to reveal his clavicle, an occasional yawn that he did not bother to veil with the palm of his hand, the subtle bend of his spine that suggested leisure. he is begging for it, you concluded.
confidence seeped from your pores as you stepped into the living room, wordlessly demanding attention. however, your stomping was too subtle to capture sukuna’s interest. perhaps he had taken notice of your footfalls but refused to humour you – you couldn’t tell.
you coughed, clearing your throat. 
it was enough to make him look up, his brows going up to express an undeniable interest at the sight; your proud expression bearing gingerly mischief at its outlines as you slowly swayed your hips in order to make the skirt of your dress flow as if in the spring breeze. it was a lovely piece, hardly provocative save for a subtle v-line providing a small glimpse at cleavage. innocent. too innocent – excluding the way it revealed dying love-bites creeping up your neck. he would have to revive them, he thought.
something in your eye – an expectant, hopeful gleam – reflected an eager impatience; you were waiting for a praise, for something saccharine. honeyed. perhaps just a little indecent. you saw it in his gaze; coated and hazed with something akin to amour, softened in the manner familiar to you alone.
“oh? what’s this?” sukuna hummed, “do a little twirl for me, doll,” his phone was now abandoned and left to lay by a cushion, “let me see the whole thing.”
you obliged with sheer delight, the pirouette causing the material to flutter like a bud opening into a graceful flower. the movement exposed your knees for a split-second; a sight of forbidden fruit, teasing and tempting. a sense of warmth filled sukuna’s chest – you were utterly endearing and a sight to behold.
he would have patted his lap, as he always did when you, his precious little thing, chose to treat him to such a show. however, before he could set his palm onto his knee to deliver a message of that nature, you waltzed over with a grin tugging at the corners of your painted lips, straddling him with breathtaking decisiveness. the palms of your hands nested against his chest and made his body lean against the backrest of the sofa. instinctively, his own large ones came to lay across your thighs, moving up a little and dragging the skirt of the dress up merely a few inches. 
his gaze gently devoured the make-up on your face; every hue, every line, every blend. the angle of your jaw. the tease at the edges of your lips. the loving provocation reflected in your eyes as you teasingly ran your palms across his breasts before wrapping your arms around his neck.
there was something in-between the lines of your approach that made it vividly demure. your skin did not seem to ache for the fervorous touch and bittersweet bites. you looked at him with a tender genre of hunger which let him know you would prefer he lay you gently rather than pin you down. 
“you like it?” you whispered, your lips ghosting against the shell of his ear before you kissed his jaw. it sent shivers down his spine and then caused his body to relax.
“yes,” he admitted, “you look lovely, little one.”
“lovely?” disappointment dripped off your tongue as you pulled away to look down at him, your lips pursed and expression distorted to further express a sense of discontent. there was a dose of sarcasm subtly sprinkled over your alleged chagrin. sukuna chuckled at your reaction; a smooth, rich sound that never failed to tug at your heartstrings and stir something deep within the pit of your stomach.
“ravishing, my dear,” he added, lifting one of his hands off your thigh to cup your face between his fingers, “delectable,” his digits pressed into your skin, the pad of his thumb tapping over your pouting lips as if to inspect the lipstick and its quality, “and a little needy, too, i would say.” 
his other hand trailed up your leg, slithering across your hip before moving to squeeze your buttock. you smiled, your own moving to rest against the one on your face. 
“you’re imagining it,” you uttered against his thumb, placing a small kiss onto it before nuzzling his palm with your cheek, “i saw it on sale today. had to get it.” you elaborated for no reason in particular, “it’s so… dainty. leaves a lot to the imagination, doesn’t it?” there was something suggestive in your tone, dragging and tugging at your words very subtly. 
“not everything,” sukuna claimed, his hand nudging your chin up so as to have you expose your neck all the more. the dress left a good patch of your skin bare, nearly to the valley of your breasts. sukuna leaned in, pressing a small, chaste kiss against your collarbone before moving his lips up towards your pulse. his open mouth ravished the expanse above your clavicle, and you shut your eyes in ecstasy as your fingernails gently scraped across his scalp; digits sunken into the strands of his blush hair. it was a form of encouragement. 
a soft breath drifted off your lips, urging him to kiss you all the more; his teeth grazed your skin just enough to leave it ever so slightly aroused and pink. 
the air grew thicker and sweeter; honey-like.
the dedication with which sukuna tended to you made you aware that his mind was slowly getting clouded by desire. the way he pulled you closer against him, his hands trailing across the outlines of your body, spoke volumes of starvation slowly heating up inside of him. 
you had to make it worse.
“i might have bought new lingerie, too…” your voice trailed off, and you could almost hear the way sukuna’s eyes rolled back behind his closed lids as he groaned against the sweet spot at the curve of your neck. it took him just a second to push you down onto the sofa. 
it was nearly a pity that his desire to undress you peaked whenever you chose to dress up for him. 
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thank you for reading!
— kamesama.
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suguful · 1 year
Text
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ᥫ᭡ — 11:49PM with bakugo
╰➤ gender neutral , no cws
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“i’d be a fucking idiot to let you come home by yourself,” katsuki’s eyes are narrowed, and he glares at the empty roads of the highway in front of him. “do y’know what time it is?”
you hum from the passenger’s seat, pressing your face deeper into the jacket katsuki had thrown into your arms earlier. with an upturned nose and rolling eyes, he’d tossed it over your lap while you got settled into the passenger’s seat. despite the sass in his actions, you accepted it with open arms. warm, you think, and distinctly smelling of heady leather and salted caramel. the heat of the car was cozy, and the added protected layer of katsuki’s jacket thawed the iciness that had taken over your hands just before.
the night air seemed to be especially chilly while you waited at the bus stop. with the biting wind and hope to spare your fingers from freezing over, you stuffed your hands in your pockets and silently lamented the slowness of late night transportation.
incessant vibrating of your phone forced your fingers out of comfortable refuge. your brows furrowed as you squinted down at the screen, and you took a moment to register the excessive notifications you’d garnered in the span of one minute. you spotted the common name attached to each of the messages, and shook your head in bemusement.
katsuki.
katsuki, who had been blowing up your phone upon returning to an empty home. following a text back updating him on your whereabouts, he asks — rather, demands — that you stay put.
soon enough, you find yourself fumbling with a seatbelt with a jacket haphazardly strewn across your legs in katsuki’s car. the heat radiating off the car’s vents make you sigh in relief, and you sink back into the familiar seat.
“thanks,” you cast a sidelong glance towards katsuki, “for picking me up, i mean.” the city lights reflect off his face, highlighting the steady slope of his nose and cheekbones. with nothing but the moon to bear witness to the two of you, you think he looks especially pretty when he’s left to be yours alone.
“yeah, whatever.” his hand falls slack on your thigh, and you feel his thumb brush against the seem of your pants.
katsuki’s scolding tone is something you’ve grown used to over the years — firm, clipped, and laced with concern hidden under layers of passive aggression. he continues to nag at you, lecturing and affectionate in the same roundabout manner he always does.
“always call me first,” he spares a glance at you, and the intensity of his gaze in the split second grips at your heart. “gotta make sure you don’t get yourself into anything stupid.”
you grasp at the hand resting on your thigh, and his fingers lace through yours.
“i’d kiss you if you weren’t driving right now.” you give his hand a firm squeeze and turn your head to face him head on.
the city lights, still illuminating his sharp features, come to accentuate the upturn of his lips. his eyes gleam in mischief, and you watch his grin widen as he pulls over. his hand is quick to unwind itself from yours to switch the gear into park.
“not driving anymore,” he turns his body fully towards you, and his hand comes to cup the back of your neck, pulling you over the console of the car. “kiss me, baby.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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hi love! Ive been fawning over your drabbles for the past few hours (marauders girlie but ur honestly converting me into the other fandoms with ur writing).
I had a cute idea for a short poly!marauders, something involving maybe the reader and sirus being prone to getting sunburnt easily? (I hope this makes sense 😞) Where Remus and James tease the two of them but quiet down when they (reader/sirus) threaten not to put sunblock on for them (who would pass on that offer). Maybe a beach day?
Thank you lovely!
cw: reader is implied to have pale/light skin
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 745 words
“Hold your breath, lovie.” 
You pinch your eyes and mouth shut in anticipation, and still a small sound escapes you at the chilly spray hitting your back. 
“Fuck, that’s cold,” you hiss, and James chuckles as he sets the can of sunscreen down, rubbing it in with his hands. 
“You need it.” Remus’ tone is amused. He takes the sunscreen to give Sirius’ back the same treatment, ignoring your boyfriend’s shrill cursing. “You both do.”
“I don’t know, do they?” James asks, and you can hear the mischief in his voice as his fingers slip under the tie-string of your bikini top to get the sunscreen in there. “I think they may just refract the sunlight rather than soak it in. Look at them, they’re gleaming.” 
“Fuck off,” Sirius grumbles. 
“You may be right,” Remus says. A little smile plays on his lips as his hands move over Sirius’ shoulders. “I think if they walked about twenty meters off, I wouldn’t be able to tell either of them from the sand.” 
“Moony, be fair,” James chides lightly. “We’d be able to see ‘em. They’re definitely lighter than the sand.” 
“Alright.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “We get it, we’re pale. You’re hilarious.” 
James’ hand snakes down, giving your bum a playful squeeze as he leans around you for a kiss. You give in much too easily for Sirius, who groans in protest as you close your eyes and relax into James’ embrace. He breaks the kiss after a few seconds, taking the sun lotion in hand and beginning to apply it to your face with loving, pacifying touches. 
“Turn around, love,” Remus says. 
“Oh, so you get to ridicule me and then I’m supposed to be obedient?” asks Sirius haughtily. 
“Mhm.” 
“Well, I don’t think—” 
Remus picks the can of sunscreen back up, spraying it on the back of Sirius’ neck. He yelps, turning, and Remus pushes him down onto a folding chair. 
“There we are.” He crouches in front of his boyfriend, smearing sun lotion on his reddening face with the tolerant manner of a patient schoolteacher. “Oi, James, d’you think that if we got stranded at sea, one of these two might work as a beacon?” 
“Oh, absolutely.” You see the delighted scrunch of James’ nose when you glower, his thumb rubbing carefully under your eye. “We shouldn’t even bother with flares, they won’t be half as effective. Actually, if we take the sunscreen off them now, they’ll probably get red enough to attract the eye for miles.” 
Sirius huffs, but you give your boyfriends an appraising look. 
“So what I’m hearing,” you say slowly, “is that we need sunscreen and you don’t.”
Remus sends a small smile your way. “Basically, yes.” 
“S’not as essential for those of us with blood in our veins, lovie,” James agrees. 
“That’s too bad,” you tsk. “I guess you won’t be needing our help with it, then.” 
You look over at Sirius, and he grins, realizing what you’re about. 
“Yeah, seems like we’re off the hook, doesn’t it?” He smizes up at Remus, who frowns back at him. “They’re sort of missing out, the massage isn’t half bad.” 
James’ hands still on your face. “Is that a threat?” he asks amusedly. 
You shrug. “It’s an incentive.” 
“You realize we could just leave you like this,” Remus points out. “You could spend all day under the umbrella while James and I get to enjoy the sun.” 
“I’m perfectly capable of lotioning my own ass,” you say, and James’ eyes dip almost regretfully to the parts of you he hasn’t gotten to yet. “Or, I wouldn’t mind helping you finish up, Siri. Would that work for you?” 
Sirius grins sharply, ignoring where Remus sits in front of him and patting his lap twice. “Get over here, gorgeous.” 
You start that way, but James’ lotion-slicked hands catch at your waist, preventing you from getting far. You grin up at him, expectant. 
“Alright, point made.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Sirius wouldn’t do half as good a job with you as I am anyway, so I’ll finish you up, then you do me. Fair?” 
You glance at Sirius, who exchanges a look with Remus before nodding back at you. 
“Fair,” you say. “I meant what I said, though. I’ll be doing my ass myself.” 
James’ face falls, and Sirius cackles loud enough that Remus looks around you in embarrassment. 
“Shouldn’t’ve made fun of her, Jamesie. Our actions have consequences.” 
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