#the italian/reader

[illiana-mystery]

I really loved your “Blind Date” story! I’ve re-read it a few times lol… Will we have more stories involving Sunny and Vincenzo? 🥺

Aww, thank you! I'm glad you really loved it! 😊💙

--

That being said, I have to apologize...

My brain is so weird when it comes to my writing. Like it's not even really writer's block, like sometimes it's just I have a brand new idea which makes me forget all about my other WiPs. 🙃

Now, I have been writing the next chapter of The Blind Date, it's just I also started writing like seven thousand other stories on top of that one, so it got pushed to the side a bit.

And I'm also wrestling where I want the plot to go. I know the basic premise of the story, but I'm struggling on how to set everything up.

I hope I can get passed that real soon because I would love to have the next chapter out before mid-September. (I'm having the same issue with Rose-Colored Glasses, and I apologize to those who have also been waiting for that story to continue).

--

But since I've been making y'all wait, here's a snippet from the next chapter:

The next morning, you woke up alone in your bed, draped in a sheer white robe. You were confused by your attire, but also panicked by his absence. You looked around to see if you could find Vincenzo, but there was no trace of him around.

Did he just leave you as soon as you fell asleep?

You were about to get upset before you heard Mittens loudly meowing. Quickly, you get up to see what was troubling her, before you heard footsteps shuffling from the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm right here, Mittens," you heard Vincenzo softly say. "I only stepped out for a little while. Would you like to help me cook for mommy?"

She purred.

"Hmm, what should I make her? Maybe some crepes? Blueberry or Strawberry? Maybe both."

That's exactly what you were craving. Weird.

You peered out of your bedroom door to find Vincenzo leaning over your stove, clothed only in a pair of crisp, Egyptian cotton lounge pants that had golden embroidery on the side of his visible pant leg.

Then you observed how the light in the kitchen beamed over his olive skin as he gathered all the ingredients needed to make your breakfast.

He gently yawned after everything was collected and looked down at Mittens before he placed her on his shoulder.

"It's a little drabby in here," he observed. "We should probably open the curtains and blinds, right?"

Mittens purred against his forehead before he opened all of the blinds and curtains in your kitchen and front room. And once they were opened, the sunlight seemed to beam even harder against his skin, causing a bit of a reflection that made him glow.

"That's better," he hummed before going back to the kitchen. "Needed a little more energy."

You were a little confused by what happened, but just shook it off and went back to bed. You figured he would bring breakfast to you, so you just got comfortable again under your warm sheets.

Not too long later, you heard his footsteps coming towards your door. You happily anticipated his return and quickly sat up before he came back in.

You smiled as you saw both the plate with your crepe in his hand and Mittens hanging off of his shoulder. His face became redder and he smiled wide at you as he placed the plate on your lap.

Looking down, you saw that he decorated the outside of the crepe with a sun that looked like your necklace made of honey. But that wasn't the only thing that you saw that reminded you of your necklace.

No, you also saw a faint tattoo above Vincenzo's left man breast that looked like your sun necklace. And it confused you since you didn't see it last night.

"Is something wrong?" he gently asked.

"No, I was just admiring your tattoo," you started before you reached out to caress his skin underneath the marking. "It looks like my necklace. Did you get my necklace custom made?"

"Yes, I did," he chirped. "I did say I paid a pretty penny for it."

"Yes, I remember," you answered back with a faint smile. "Did you hide it last night?"

"I'm afraid so," he moaned, smiling at your with his eyes. "I feel comfortable around you so now I'm willing to show it."

"It looks really nice on you," you complimented him.

"Thank you, my love," he hummed before he gently kissed your cheek. He had to bend down to do so, so Mittens jumped off his shoulder and into your bed, cuddling up next to your leg.

--

Hope you enjoyed that! Thank you so much for your support and kind words and patience with me. I promise the rest of this chapter and the subsequent chapters will be worth the wait. 😉

#i'm probably just gonna start posting wips more often #because i feel like i'm always falling into this trap #but i do appreciate yall #a lot #and i'm so glad you're patient with me #thanks for the ask #the italian/reader #the italian #drowning in the shallow end #fanfiction #fanfic #wip #work in progress #current wip #asks #alfred molina

[ldrfanatic]

Oh Bella

Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them

cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)

slytherin boys masterlist navigation

warning - internet translated Italian

(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)

It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.

For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.

You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.

“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.

“What’s up Theo?”

“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”

In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.

“Still asleep, Bella?”

You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.

“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.

Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”

Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.

“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”

“Mmm of course, Theo.”

So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.

1.

It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.

You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.

You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.

You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Ciao Bella.”

Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.

“Ciao Theo.”

The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.

Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.

“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)

“Nothing Theo, relax.”

He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.

The opportunity was too great to miss.

You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.

His reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.

“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”

(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)

A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.

A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.

2.

The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.

You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.

“What’s wrong, bellissima?”

“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”

“Of course.”

He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.

Almost.

Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.

“Oh Bella.”

He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.

“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.

You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.

“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)

Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.

“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.

“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

3.

So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.

Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.

“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).

Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.

“Theo? I’m ready.”

By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.

“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”

(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)

You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.

“Fine! What?”

And that was how you found yourself in this situation.

Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.

“Oh Bella.”

Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”

“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.

Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”

You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”

Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.

You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.

+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots

April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.

Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.

Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.

You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.

By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.

“Oh Bella.”

It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.

Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.

“Una mattina mi sono alzato

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

Una mattina mi sono alzato

E ho trovato l'invasor.”

Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.

“O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir.”

The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.

“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”

You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.

“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”

In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #Italian Theodore Nott #slytherin boys x reader

[ohworm-writes]

Thinking about Firefighter!Price.

Imagine him coming home after a long, exhausting day of working, keys jingling as he unlocks the door at some ungodly hour of the night, footsteps falling heavy against the floor as he walks inside, exhaustion and fatigue lingering along his form.

He's still dressed in his station wear - a fitted, navy blue t-shirt with Station 141's logo printed onto the front of it, small, right on the right side of his chest, and a pair of trousers in the same color to match, hanging loosely onto him.

He should take a shower, he knows he should. He smells of sweat and sulfur, the scents clinging to his clothes and skin like a second skin, and he know that the two of you'll have to wash the bedding come morning.

But god, the sight of you in bed, dressed in a loose pair of your own shorts and one of his spare shirts, face smushed against one of the pillows as your breathing comes slow, in and out, steady - it's far too enticing to pass up so easily.

So he unbuckles his belt in a daze, stripping off his shirt, undershirt and trouser, tossing the articles haphazardly onto the floor (he tries to toss them towards the hamper, but he knows he misses, given the way his belt buckle clanks loudly against the hardwood floor of the bedroom, but, honestly, he could care less).

And he gets right into bed beside you, fingers grazing lightly over the exposed skin of your thighs, traversing upwards, fingers splayed as his palm travels over the fabric of your shorts, sneaking their way under the loose shirt of his that you wear, hand pressing against your tummy as he pulls you close.

He presses his nose into your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he deeply inhales the scent of your body wash, softly shushing you as you start to rouse, the way your body gently begins to shuffle as you let out the softest, sleepiest yawn, listening as he grumbles softly against your skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you, love. Go back to sleep."

His voice is so hoarse, so strained and rough from the events of the day - yelling and barking out commands to the firefighters within the ladder and engine crews that he guides - but, at the same time, it's runs smooth like honey, settling just right in your sleepy, hazy mind.

He hugs you tighter, pressing your back flush against his chest as he curls his body around you in a subtly protective manner, littering tender kisses against your neck, trying to coax you back to sleep as he lets out a soft sigh, infatuated with the way your body molds perfectly into his.

"Mmm... s'fine, John. Wha... what time s'it?"

"None of your business, that's what time. Go back to sleep. I'll be here in the mornin'... promise you that. Okay?"

He doesn't let you ask your questions. If you try to think, he knows you'll wake up, and he already feels guilty about waking you up in the first place, so he doesn't even entertain your sleepy question, giving you a promise - two, technically. That he's here now and that it'll stay that way until the two of you wake up in the dawn.

"Stubborn..."

"Always. We c'n talk in the mornin'. Sleep."

"Mmm... glad you're back home safe. Love you."

"Love you, too."

But by the time he says the words, you've already fallen back asleep, and a deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from within his chest, amused, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your jaw before letting himself fall asleep behind you, his breaths, his heartbeat falling into sync with your own.

#There was a firetruck driving outside my place with it's sirens blaring at like 9 o'clock at night and it inspired me to write this #I'm playing with the dog tags I bought as I write this - half asleep in the middle of playing the MW3 beta while listening to Italian music #I don't even know Italian #Call this multitasking #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #firefighter price #firefighter!price

[lucidmagic]

Donna: *mumbling to herself in Italian, because things aren't just going her way.*

Reader: *jokingly* "Ohhhh looks like someone is upsetti spaghetti today."

Donna: *Kill Bill sirens in her head* *ITALIAN INTENSIFIES*

#the reader will then be lecture in Italian for the next two hours #angie cackles the entire time #Reader is both scared and turned on #draw me like one of your italian girls #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #phyto's guide #lucidmagic #the phytologist’s guide to falling in love #donna beneviento x y/n #donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento x oc #lady donna beneviento #lady beneviento #resident evil #resident lover #fangame resident lover #re8 #re8 village #re8 donna #resident evil: village #donna my beloved

[bokutosmochi]

kinktober day five: somnophilia!

ADRENALINE RUSH ♡ NANAMI KENTO

fem!reader x nanami kento

ingredients: nanami has some adrenaline he has to get rid off

what's it: smut

allergen warning/s: spit, unprotected sex, somnophilia

sugar level: 1.5k

regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub @eussstasss

parlor's note: can't do a kinktober without including nyanyamin!!

bon appetit!

fuck gojo, fuck that patchface curse, fuck the higher ups

those were the only thoughts that bounced around nanami's head.

it was no secret that the man hated going any minute overtime, now here he was going home at fucking ten in the evening. on top of that, because of the late hour, the things he was able to pick up from his favorite bakery were what ever was left over from the day -- though one would argue that he's lucky because said bakery was still open at the late hour. regardless, the fact remained: the pastries were no longer fresh, no longer fluffy and warm.

if it was any other day, he wouldn't have ate it on the subway ride home from work and instead saved it so he could reheat it once he's safely in the confines of his own home, but not today. he was too hungry, and quite frankly, running out of patience.

he sets down his dull blade in its rightful place by the door and tugs off the yellow patterned tie in an uncharacteristically pissed off manner. not only was he filled with negative emotions, but adrenaline from the fight he had against an unnamed, unregistered cursed spirit was still pumping in his veins. with a huff, he hangs it over his shoulder, before moving on to unbutton his blue button down shirt as he walks over to the bedroom.

this was the part of his day that he looked forward to the most. sure, it was the end of the day, but it was the part where he'd see you, hold you for more than two hours.

laid down in the large california king bed was you. thick, soft blankets tucked up to under your chin, hair he loved running his hands through fanned out around your face, and your face. you looked so angelic when you slept, so peaceful even during nights like this when he knew you weren't sleeping well because he wasn't there in the bed with you -- you confessed to him one time, you always get the best dreams, the most restful nights of sleep whenever he's there holding you.

you shifted in your sleep, turning to your other side making the blanket move further down your body. it exposed the thin shirt you were wearing; an old shirt of nanami's. the fabric was so worn down that the man could spot your nipples, hardened from the chilly autumn air, from under the shirt.

you mewled softly and it made nanami wonder what you were dreaming of; whether you were dreaming at all. aside from that, the sound also made his beige slacks tighten and he found a way to release all that pent up frustration and adrenaline from his system.

he pushes the dress pants down along with his boxers, then damn near trips trying to take his socks off and walk to you at the same time. he's just had such a rough day and needs some help from you.

a thought pushes itself into his mind the moment he crawls on top of you, one that's about morality and ethics. he's never done this before and it feels wrong to do it. second thoughts fill his mind, but he remembers the fact that you've had this discussion before. he's already asked for your permission prior. in return, you only asked one thing from him: if i had a long day, try not to wake me if you don't have or want to. and aside from that, you've always been such a nice and thoughtful girlfriend. there has never been a moment in the many years you've been together where you've lacked understanding with him. you're always so selfless, giving him whatever he wanted, so long as it's reasonable, and this is reasonable, right?

with those thoughts as a green light, he pushes the blanket away from your body, nudges you so you'd be lying on your back, and moves the crotch of your panties to the side so he can have his way with you.

always the caring boyfriend, he makes sure you're properly lubricated before he does pushes himself in. after all, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to his sweet, caring girlfriend.

getting you wet the way he usually does takes too long, and besides, he'd probably end up waking you up too, which is something you asked him not to do if he didn't have to. not to mention the fact that he always gets so into turning you on; it's what gets him aroused too. he'll get too handsy, too noisy.

it's not an option so he opts to spit on your pussy instead.

he enjoys the sight of his glob of drool dripping around your vulva for a moment before spreading it around. when he decides that you're not wet enough, he spits again and does the same thing.

the man may think that exerting minimal effort is all that's required for most of his day-to-day tasks, but that rule does not include you and it never will. he always makes sure to take care of you the way you take care of him.

when your lips are shiny with his spit, he backs away for a moment, lines the head of his cock with your slit then pushes in as softly and slowly as he could, trying his best not to jostle you.

he moans lowly as he sinks in your warm pussy. it's a sensation he can never get enough of, even if he makes love to you a million times. he adores it, the way you welcome him so easily. he only stops his motions when he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against yours.

he looked down to where your bodies connected and involuntarily muttered a low shit under his breath. to him, the sight was a masterpiece that could easily top an expensive painting any day; it certainly made him feel more emotions than those.

with a deep breath sucked in through the mouth, he started moving, steadily thrusting in and out of your wet cunt. the movement was calculated, executed with maximum precision to ensure that you won't wake from your slumber.

how could you expect him to keep his composure completely under these circumstances? you're so tight, he's always said that your pussy was made for him, and he doesn't just say that to get you off; he truly means it, and then you combine your perfect pussy with your perfect face. he's a goner.

he tries to stifle his moans, tries to swallow them under his breaths, but a few still manage to escape. despite those, he continues to yearn to make this nice and quick. it's just to blow off some steam, after all.

the moment his attempts become futile comes when you stir, letting out noises that shoots blood steaming down to his already painfully hard dick, and flutter your eyes open.

when his eyes meets yours, his elbows buckle, though he's quick to straighten himself back up again; his motion was so fluid you didn't even notice it, only the slight twitch of his cock.

you yawn before acknowledging the situation. "kento?" your words are slurred due to the sleepiness that remains in your system. "what's goin' on?"

"sorry hun," he grunts, continuing to fuck you. "adrenaline rush. you can go back to sleep if you want."

you give him a hum though you didn't actually succumb to sleep. the feeling of kento's cock inside you wasn't something you could simply nap through, no matter how hard you try nor matter how hard he tries to not rouse you.

he might have thought you were asleep - you were so quiet, not making a noise other than the natural moans - if you didn't mutter an "i'm close" at the exact same moment he felt his orgasm nearing.

"i am too, hun." his movements become sloppier. he loses his rhythm to the pleasure and due to the lapse in concentration since he began to play with your clit to help you reach your high as well.

"ken," he recognizes what you need with the call of his name. one of your hands found their way to his back, currently running the nails down the hard muscle. the pain only added to nanami's delight.

"i'm right there, hun. you can let go."

the both of you come at the same time and the feeling was euphoric. despite wanting rest, you're glad you woke up.

"that was nice." you commented lamely. the word didn't sum up the experience, it was so much better than nice, but your tired brain couldn't think of anything else. apparently, nanami had the same sentiment.

"i think that's a bit of an understatement, darling. now come on and get some rest, you deserve it."

i get: reblog

you get: a california king bed with a nanami body pillow

#angelshubnetwork #kinktober2k23 #order of the day! #order up for nanami! #one matcha mochi #with a side of pineapple italian ice #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #nanami one shot #nanami kento one shot #nanami fic #nanami kento fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk one shot #jjk fic #nanami #nanami kento #jjk

[machiavellli]

Some Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: I’m no ff writer, but in the past couple of days @slytherinslut0 kept taking about him and so I went on the internet and did the only sane thing I had to do: search any piece of information about the actor. And ever since I discovered that Lorenzo Zurzolo is not only Italian, but from ROME, I can’t stop thing about him. I need to let out those thoughts of mine.

Now, you don’t understand. ROMAN GUYS LOVE ON ANOTHER LEVEL. Like this is very personal and subjective maybe BUT, in humble opinion, they become absolutely and utterly taken by you. It’s wonderful. Like maybe I am idolizing, but let’s take my bf as an example, Roman guy ™️, he loves like no one else. Then, girls from Lazio will probably throw tomatoes at me, but no one can stop me right now.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, almost totally fluff. Based on personal experience. NOT PROOFREAD (class is starting RIGHT NOW)

Scusatemi per la probabilmente pessima interpretazione dei ragazzi romani, care personcine romane, io sono più del sud, ma vivo più a Nord, al Nord oltre al Nord (un bel mix if you ask me). Questa è pura esperienza personale che trasferisco su un personaggio immaginario.

-—-—-——-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

He might take his time to decide if you are the one for him

BUT the moment he decides you are the one for him, he will take you out on a date in less than a week starting from now

There is no point on waiting any longer.

He will arrange the date, you just have to show up and look pretty, no need to lift a finger for anything else.

Old fashioned type of guy.

(And I feel like his fashion reflects that)

Will hold any door for you, move the chair for you, pay dinner and even your ride back home if necessary.

Maybe if you go with him for a walk after your dinner and the right atmosphere forms, you will have your first kiss with him. Something very delicate, soft, but still exciting.

He will probably ask to see you again the very next day, he can’t take enough of you.

As I said, I think Roman guys are pretty direct, they don’t waist their time, it’s either with them or nothing. No games to play.

So yeah, you might not be used to but he will ask you to be his girlfriend in a very little time (for me it was the day of my first date, but again, very personal)

Why should he wait? He likes you and that’s all that matters.

After that: you got him in a chokehold.

He will walk you to class. Every. Single. Day.

Will do absolutely anything just to spent more time with you.

He might be a little shy to start using “pet names”

Maybe he will start with a simple “amò” (short version of “love”), which is romantic, but not strictly, I also use it with my girl friends (and a more corrupted version is “amio”, but I use it only as a joke, but there are girls who actually use it and no shame on that)

Many guys usually refer to their girlfriends as “la mia tipa” (which I don’t like), and he will also do that at first, but once he gets comfortable he will always call you “la mia ragazza” (even in front of his friends)

And I have to advise you on that, he will tell you that infamous “ti amo” pretty soon too.

Again: no time to die (is this an actual English saying or am I just make it up right now?boh)

You two are watching the sunset, when you notice that he’s not looking at the sky anymore but at you

A couple of minutes pass by and you ask “what is it?”

With those big beautiful eyes and that smirk of his, he will look at you and just say “nothing amore, ti amo”

He won’t expect for you to say it back

You can wait as long as you like for telling it back, there’s no rush, no pressure to say it back

Your moroso (usually adults use this term but for me it’s cute) just wanted to let you know that he cares about you.

He will literally say “because it felt right, why should I wait?”

My man is just expressing what he feels

And you want to say no to that???crazyyyy

As I already stated, he is so kind with you and with some time he will absolutely let you know that his love language is touch.

At first in your first months of dating it’s just holding hands, an arm around you shoulder, an arm on your waist,…

And at first he won’t be always touching (and with it I mean the things I listed above) you in public.

Mama’s boy is direct but still has light sheer of shyness

How could he not. He finds you beautiful under every light.

BUT THEN

And with it I mean after you get intimate, which will take a a couple of months

Listen, if things are serious in real life, it takes a bit of time…so’ seria io quindi per me funziona così

After that he will and without holding back always touching you in public (WHICH DOESNT MEAN IN A SENSUAL WAY)

He will hold your hand, put a hand on your thigh,… this type of stuff. He just needs to know you are here with him.

Definitely the type of guy that tries to kiss you even at the worst moments.

You are speaking with someone? What does it mean that he can’t kiss you? Ao non scherziamo qua

You are his and he definitely doesn’t share

(And he’s definitely yours don’t worry, absolutely don’t worry.)

Jealous type of of guy.

Let’s be honest here: he won’t be happy about your guy friends (maybe I’m toxic but I won’t be happy about his girl friend that are not my friend first too)

If you can drop them, it’s for the best.

“Io so che cazzo pensano quelli” he will tell you a bit frustrated

My man just wants to protect you, Italian guy ™️ behavior (very common in my opinion for them to be protective, like last week an Italian guy, a friend 🅰️🅾️, from the north literally shielded me from a weird-looking fella, moving me to the other side of the street)

Sometimes he will just look at you and say “sei bellissima” with the cutest smile known to human kind

Or maybe something like “Lo sai che sei proprio bella?” while he similes at you

And yes, he will tell you always and everywhere, even with a whisper during class just to get you flushed, even if you look like shit <3

You will often find asking to yourself how a person can love you so much, care for you so much.

Like this is not a self esteem problem, even if you are extremely confident: you will ask yourself this.

Because in every flaws he finds beauty.

It’s out of this world.

He won’t in fact tolerate you taking shit about yourself and he might be even be rude about it

“Smettila con ste cazzate.”

He can’t comprehend how you could say that about yourself, “la sua amata e diletta” (si si lo so, “diletta” è come Machiavelli definisce sua moglie e sì non c’entra per nulla, ma volevo aggiungerlo, non rovinatemi la magia)

He will talk with you about your future, about how he would like to have kids with you, “pensa che bello avere dei piccoli noi che corrono in giro per casa”

And then, this one is extremely based on personal experience, after some time he will just start saying “I wanna marry you”, “Ti voglio sposare”

Even during random moments, he will look at you and just say it

Like, it doesn’t mean you are getting married right now. No. It just means that he wants you forever, he won’t leave you.

He will make you happy in every way possible (yeah even in the bedroom)

Cuddling you is THE activity for him.

And if he can lay between your thighs, that’s basically haven. He won’t stop saying “così soffici” and then kiss them.

He also loves kissing you, as passionate as it gets.

He will “hold you hair in deep devotion” (he is so “I wanna be yours” coded)

Also: “say yes to haven” coded.

He will always protect you, no matter against who.

He will choose you over anything.

If his friend are rude to you or say ANYTHING bad about you, they are over, he won’t tolerate any form of aggression on you.

You are the only woman in this world for him…like even an angel could walk by and he would still have his eyes on you only.

He won’t even look at other girls anymore, why should he? He has found la sua anima gemella dopotutto.

In the end, you really will become il suo tesoro, and the nickname tesoro will probably be the most used one.

“Ti amo tantissimo”, ti dirà ogni sera prima di darti la buonanotte.

-—-—-——-—-—

-> part II

Ahh ​Roman guys are my Roman Empire.

My asks are open btw!

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #harry potter #slytherin #say yes to heaven #i wanna be yours #my fanfiction #devo iniziare a guardare più film e cose italiane #Ma poi come parla>>> #adoro aiuto #scioccobasita che non sapevo chi fosse #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #italy #pure fluff #lorenzo zurzolo #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #fanfic #Harry Potter fandom #Slytherin aesthetic #theodore nott headcanons #my gif to you #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you

[xblackreader]

>> Just convinced my grandmother that this was a picture of an actor and his actress wife.

Her immediate thoughts: What’d I tell you? Them Italian men…

Cause if this isn’t an old Italian mob couple idk who is

#Cause if this isn’t an old Italian mob couple idk who is #I need sydcarmy AUs NOW #I NEED A MAFIA AU #MAFIA AU #ONE SET IN THE 40s #I NEED CLASSIC CARS #KISSING AT THE DRIVE IN #black women #x black reader #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #sydney sweeney #carmy x sydney #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear tv #jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri

[leezlelatch]

Lust in Your Eyes

18+ MDNI

The Cardinal waits for you in your room...but sometimes, he's impatient.

Directly inspired by my beloved @writingjourney's fic.

Filthy self indulgent smut, PLEASE see tags.

Copia x F! Reader - pervy Copia, scent kink, smelling of personal items, masturbation, desperation, breeding kink, explicit conversations, explicit thoughts, self-degradation, self-encouragement, possessive, going through personal items, using articles of clothing for masturbation, caught in the act, p in v, cunnilingus, praise, domination, loud Copia, loud reader, no clean up, teasing, fluff, endearments, exchange of I love you, talk of aftercare.

“Amore?” Copia questions, popping the door open and peeking around the wood. His eyebrows are raised, lips parted slightly, black smudged along the bottom from a day of pressing his lips together in concentration. His eyes briefly roam across the small expanse of your room in the residency hall of the Ministry, huffing a laugh when he spots the stuffed rat he bought you lovingly placed on a pillow in your bed. 

He pushes the rest of the door open enough to squeeze his body through, nearly hopping inside before shutting it with his bottom. He pockets the spare key and pulls out his phone, turning it over right side up. “Eugggh…ah! Here we go,” he grumbles, flipping it open. The screen lights up and he raises a hand. “Eureka!” 

He holds it away from himself and presses with a heavy gloved finger to open his messages, looking at the last text you sent him. 

Hi, sweetie. :) meet me at my room when you’re done? 

Copia smiles, the endearment, as always, warming his cheeks. You must be running a little late. He pockets his phone and rubs his hands together with a sigh as he glances around your room once more. He walks over to the small fish tank on your desk, bending over to peer inside at the betta fish relaxing amongst the greenery growing within the tank. 

“Hi! Hello, Big Betta. Where is your mama, huh?” Copia shrugs when the beta doesn’t respond and stands upright again, taking off his biretta and placing it on the desktop. He leaves through your record collection, making small noises of appreciation, just wasting time until he has you in his arms again. 

Abandoning the shelf of records, he sits down on your bed, running his hand across the comforter. With a sigh, Copia falls back, closing his eyes as your scent envelopes him. He turns on his side and follows the pattern of the bedspread with a single finger, a crooked smile on his lips as he thinks about the very naughty things the two of you have gotten up to in this very bed. 

He turns his nose into the soft material, taking a deep breath, his mouth falling open slightly. He turns onto his stomach, drawing his legs up as he skims the tip of his nose across the length of the bed, crawling forward until he reaches your pillow. 

“Amore mio,” he rasps, pants growing uncomfortably tight as he presses his face into your pillow. He rotates his hips, pushing the seam of his zipper into his hardening cock, a pathetic noise bubbling from his throat. 

Copia freezes then, the silence following his moan terrible as he realizes what he’s doing. The Cardinal heaves a frustrated sigh and drops his head into your pillow. The man is so desperate for you. He won’t deny that. Desperate for your love. Desperate for your body. Desperate for any crumb of your attention he can get. He spent the day half-hard after reading your text, eyes following the clock religiously, counting down the hours. 

The Cardinal is not ashamed of his lust, but…perhaps he shouldn’t be humping your bed when you’re not here. A slow smile lifts the corners of his mouth. 

Or at least, not here to see it. It wouldn’t do to waste his seed on anything that isn’t the temple with which he worships. Your beautiful body. Your tight pussy. Your womb which he aches to fill. 

Copia rolls onto his back and lets out a breath, staring at the ceiling. He grimaces, reaching down to adjust the insistent throb, fighting with his cassock. “Cazzo…,” he growls, sitting up and quickly unbuttoning the suffocating material, ripping it from his body. He nearly falls off the bed in the process, grabbing the bedside table for support. Your lamp sways violently and the few things you have on the surface shake and nearly fall off, but finally Copia throws the offending cassock to the floor. 

He turns toward the mirror nailed to the small piece of wall next to your closet and smooths his hair back. He stares at himself, running a hand across his soft stomach as he turns to the side, admiring the way his cock tents his pants. Copia chuckles softly and palms himself, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You’re a dirty old fucker, eh?” He sighs. “Satana, I need her so much.”

Copia checks the clock on your desk, eager for the time to pass. Missing you. Craving you. His entire body alight with the need to have you. Keep you tucked in his arms and in bed. Warm and soft and satisfied. He’d cook for you, care for you, ensure that his precious girl never wants for anything. You’re already his wife in his mind, Copia need only buy the ring.

He turns, idly debating on returning to the warmth of your bed when his eyes fall on the door to your closet. It’s ajar, the cut of the light from your room illuminating a few items of clothing which hang from the rack. Copia slips his fingers through the opening, teasing the door open the rest of the way. A shuddering breath pushes from his throat as the dress you wore to dinner last week reveals itself in all its sinful satin, hanging prettily as if it was waiting for him. 

Copia hastily pulls his glove off his hand with his teeth, tossing the leather carelessly over his shoulder. With a nearly shaking hand, he reaches out, pressing searching fingers against the dress, his senses burning with the memory of how it felt to rip it from your body. He’s surprised it survived, looking nearly picture perfect. Its only failure is that you’re not wearing it. 

Copia’s cock jumps, straining against his trousers. He whimpers, a small “mmm!” when he reaches down to unzip, his fingers brushing against the wet patch in his underwear. Copia pulls the dress from the closet with a frenzy, holding the hanger in one hand while the other frantically pulls down his underwear, letting his painful cock bob in the air, freezing against his heated skin. He lightly smacks it, watching with a groan as it bounces, the tip red with just the sweetest drop of precum pearled within the slit. 

He stands there almost unsure for a moment, eyes falling to your door and then your doorknob. Oh, if it turned right now. If you caught him. The thought makes him shake with need, and he toes off his shoes, kicking his pants and underwear off to the side. He leaves his socks, doesn’t bother to unbutton his clerical shirt, his only remaining thought being to fuck his cock into your dress. 

Copia drops to the floor, the floorboards rough on his knees. He groans, and then laughs, the sudden protest of his knees rocking him back to lucidity for a moment. Cardinal Copia, a devotee of lust. Horny and desperate and ready to pleasure himself with the memory of you, the scent of you, until he has you under him again. 

Where are you? 

Copia yanks the dress from the hanger, bunching it up in his hands and passing the cool satin across his thighs. 

“Oh…amore, la mia preziosa ragazza! Ti amo, ti amo cosi tanto,” he whispers fervently, eyes shut tight as he imagines you before him, wearing the dress he so violently clings to. 

He finally moves the dress higher, moaning low and deep, drawn out into a high pitched keen as he finally gives his cock the attention it so craves. 

“Copia?” Your voice cuts through his lustful haze, and Copia’s eyes snap open, falling on your surprised expression at the door. He stands up so quickly, he falls backwards onto your bed. The dress covers his weeping cock, the Cardinal looking a mess while splayed across your bed, cheeks red. 

It’s quiet for several moments. 

“Did I keep you waiting too long?” You ask softly, dropping your bag and moving toward the bed. 

Copia pulls the dress off of him, cock so hard it curves toward his stomach. “Look at what you’ve done, topolino. Your Cardinal hurts.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have hurried.” You pick up the dress, looking at it with a pout. “Were you going to cum on my dress?” 

“Of course not,” he admonishes. He sits up and curls a finger, smiling as you dutifully flock to his side. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, the scratch of his mustache a comfort to you. “Nothing wrong with a little…foreplay, sì? I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips meet, Copia hands insistent as he pulls you down to straddle his hips on the edge of the bed. Licking into your mouth, the man flips you, your back hitting the mattress. He ruts into your clothed sex, your surprised squeak swallowed by his mouth. He pulls away to nearly tear your leggings and panties off your body, flinging them into the open door of the closet so hard they rattle the hangers inside. 

Copia slides his hands up your inner thighs, spreading your legs to stare unabashedly at your pussy. “Surely I’ve been given favor by the Dark Lord…,” he murmurs, leaning in to drag two fingers through your folds, spreading your lips. “I’ve been waiting all day to taste you.”

His gaze flashes to yours, his lips pulling into a smirk as he gets comfortable on the bed, hooking his arms around your spread thighs. “Watch your Cardinal worship,” he whispers. 

He moans, loud and unashamed when your pussy flutters at his words, your slick rapidly sweetening his evening meal. “Don’t worry, dolce. I’ll fill that pretty hole soon enough.” 

Copia’s lips close over your clit and he sucks. His tongue flicks, curling around the sensitive nub. You buck your hips with a cry and he moves a hand to your belly to drop them back to the bed, pressing firmly. He keeps you there, attached to his mouth, laving his tongue over and between your folds, dipping into your entrance. His cock gives a powerful kick against the mattress as your walls pull in his tongue. 

“Your Cardinal knows,” he coos. Your answering whimper makes him smile. “Sì, sì, he knows.” 

“Copia, please,” you beg, rocking your hips into his face, trying to get that perfect nose to hit just right. 

This makes him laugh, “My eager topolino. I’m eager, too.” 

He kisses up your body, bunching your shirt in a hand as he drags it along. He fumbles for a moment, fighting with your bra, a few choice curses flying into the air before the bra also thwacks against the wall. 

“Oh, dolce,” Copia tsks, gently kissing the red marks left behind from your bra. “We will take a break from wearing that, yes? Find you something more comfortable. I can’t have you in pain…they must be so sore.” 

He lavishes attention across your breasts, alternating between sucking your pebbled nipples and gently soothing his tongue across the sore marks. The only marks on your gorgeous breasts should be from his mouth. Copia blows against the wet line of his saliva, a grateful sigh making your chest rise and fall from the cool sensation. 

“That’s my baby,” he murmurs. 

Copia glances down to where his cock rests between your legs, lifting his hips to drag it along your slick, a full body shudder wracking his frame as he moans. He reaches down to wrap long fingers around the length of him, pumping into his fist once, twice, a third time that has his toes curling in his socks. 

His eyes meet yours and he leans in for a gentle, lingering kiss. “Are you ready?” He asks, gaze adoring. 

“I need you,” you respond, tilting your hips up. 

Copia places his tip at your entrance, adjusting to bracket you between his arms, your breaths mingling from how close your faces are now. “Be my brava ragazza and take your Cardinal’s cock, hmm? Can you do that for me?” He whispers, rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of him as he pushes into you, his cock filling you in a rush of perfection that has you crying his name already. 

His thrusts are messy. Stuttering. Copia struggles to find a rhythm, so overwhelmed by the feeling of you. His love. His soulmate. To be inside you is to know the euphoria of damnation. His hands slide under your body and he pulls you impossibly closer as he slides his legs under for leverage, pistoning into you. 

Copia’s own cries rival yours, filling the small space of your bedroom, the slap of your skin against his as delicious accompaniment. He collapses on top of you, still pushing, humping, grinding into your soaked cunt, his lips dragging along your shoulder, making a path to your lips. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, breathless. He claims your mouth, curling his tongue around yours while his hand reaches between your bodies to circle your clit. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressed against his chest as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth caught open in a shout of ecstasy. Your hips cant against his, your hole spasming around his cock, milking him dry as he jerks, thighs trembling with his own orgasm. He screams into your skin, head buried in your neck, his hips making quick, tight circles as he rides out his climax. 

Copia rolls off, a heavy weight, arms hooked around you to make you follow so you’re both on your sides, legs intertwined. He places exhausted little kisses all over your face. 

“My heart. My love. My soul. My sweetheart. My future. My everything. Ti amo. Ti amo. I love you,” each of his soft words punctuated with a kiss. 

He tilts your face up with a gentle hand to your jaw, searching your eyes. You have to smile, the black make up encircling his eyes smeared all down his cheeks. “Are you okay, baby? Everything feels okay?” He asks, his voice sleepy and sweet. 

“Everything is perfect,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose that makes him giggle. 

“Eh…I’m going to feel that in the morning,” he chuckles, tucking you against his chest. 

“I should leave you waiting more often.”

Copia playfully growls, ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Next time, I’ll get into your underwear drawer.” 

“No!” You giggle, pushing against him. “I already lost three pairs to you.” 

“Yes,” he says, nodding with a little smirk. “I confiscate. Too many things between my mouth and your pussy.” 

“Copia!” You gasp, your cheeks flaming as you fight a grin. “You’re awful.” 

“Ah, you love it,” he shrugs. His expression turns serious then, pleading as he looks at you, wrapped in his embrace where you belong. “You love me?” 

“Very much,” you murmur, pressing a hand to his cheek. “I love you so very much.” 

Copia turns his face into your hand, placing a kiss in the center of your palm. “We go to my room now, eh? A hot bath will do us both good.” 

“You’re gonna make me walk?” You groan softly, rolling onto your back as Copia makes to get up with a sore grunt. 

“You’ll thank me tomorrow.” 

You sit up, your muscles feeling thoroughly used, and make to grab a towel from your dresser. You can feel his cum smearing along your thighs. 

“No, amore,” Copia says, his back to you as he begins to dress. “That’s what the bath is for.” 

“But I still have to walk down to your room,” you say, turning to look at him, the towel clutched in your hand. 

“Yes, you do.” Copia pauses to return your gaze, expectant.  

You drop the towel, blushing softly, “Yes, Cardinal.” 

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #mdni #ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #poorly translated italian

[lacyscabinet]

#clarification gnam gnam is the Italian for yum yum #since y'all seem to like these so much #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x you #nat scatorccio x #natalie scatorccio x y/n #lottie matthews #van palmer #taissa turner #shauna shipman #jackie taylor

[writingjourney]

i just can’t stop thinking about copia driving and being his passenger princess?? like ffjdsjjffjs he looks so good in that episode and i wanna go on trips with him just to dreamily stare at him

You just know when he feels comfortable he's singing along to the radio and gets all hyped when one of his favorite songs start playing, you have to actively remind him to watch the road sometimes because he gets so into his performance.

One of his hands is on your thigh at ALL times, though, unless he has to switch gears because this man loves his classy old cars and sorry but he is not driving an automatic. When you're not on the highway and he has to shift gears more often you rest your hand on his thigh instead, firm and muscular as it works the pedals. Gets him even more distracted than the music.

Road trips involve a plethora of snacks and drinks that you have to feed him. He playfully bites your fingers every time, brushing it off with a comment about how delicious you are but he loves to hear you giggle too much to stop, not even after he made the same joke ten times.

Don't tease him too much while you're on the road unless you're prepared to make an abrupt stop at a secluded rest stop parking lot. The bumps and bruises are worth it, though.

#he is italian i am german we are driving manually bc i say so #asks #anon #love this actually #copia x reader #slightly suggestive #copia HC

[illiana-mystery]

Chapter 3 is up! This chapter is NSFW, but also very fluff and romantic. 

#the italian/reader #the italian #drowning in the shallow end #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #alfred molina

[caraphernellie]

why dont the girls in tlou get body hair. is it too much to ask for santa barbara ellie with pit hair. wtf

#why must women be hairless #my biggest insecurity is my body hair as an italian #wtf?? #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ rambling #tlou2 #tlou2 x reader

[clerc16]

do you ever just go YOU CAN SEE THE CELEBRATIONS STARTING, HE’S GOT ONE MORE CORNER THE FAMOUS PARABOLICA TO GO, MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY! HE WON IN SPA HE WINS IN MONZA, CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX or are you mentally stable

#i am definitely not mentally stable #i miss him #I MISS THIS #clerc16’s thoughts #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #scuderia ferrari #italian gp #monza 2019

[bokutosmochi]

THE RETURN OF THE KINGS ♡ GOJO SATORU featuring adoptive son!fushiguro megumi

gojo satoru x fem!reader

ingredients? after weeks upon weeks of worrying about your boyfriend and your adoptive son's whereabouts, they finally come home.

what’s it? fluff

allergen warning/s? n/a

sugar level? 1.2k

regulars? @tokyometronetwork

parlor’s note? sorry i'm more than a few days late. i was a little busy then felt sick.

anyways

DADDY'S HOMEEEEEEEE

bon appetit

"c'mon, gimme a hug megs." the white haired sorcerer grinned at his adoptive child of sorts, only for the young boy to grimace, clearly not fond of the idea. "why do i have to do that?"

"i'll teleport us inside the apartment." was gojo's reply. he flashed his son an innocent grin and bat of his eyelashes.

"why don't we just open the door?" he grumbled.

if he was being honest with himself, he'd know exactly why gojo wanted a hug. he was stuck in the prison realm - a place where time does not pass - for nineteen days; but nineteen days that felt like eternity.

gojo simply missed megumi.

of course he missed gojo too. underneath sukuna's influence, he was relieved to see that gojo was okay once he was unsealed.

but gojo didn't need to know that in such detail. he's sure that a teary eyed and wavering voiced "i'm glad you're back." would be louder than if he had a long winded speech on the subject. it'd also be louder than a hug on their apartment's doorstep.

"it's one in the morning. your mom's sleeping. we might wake her if we open the door." she needs some sleep. knowing her, she hasn't been able to get a lot of those since you and i stopped updating her and replying to her texts.

and he'd be correct. you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer. you didn't even know much about sorcery as per gojo. all you knew was that it was a dangerous job and there's a big chance of your boyfriend and your son not coming back to you. that's why you wanted them to update you whenever they could; just so you have that assurance that they're still alive, but it's been a long time since you had that. gojo hasn't been able to text you since he got sealed, and megumi when sukuna took over his body.

you've been worried sick. losing sleep wondering if you lost your two favorite boys in the world at the same time.

"fine." megumi sighed. when he put it that way, it was hard to turn him down.

he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around gojo's midsection and in a flash, the both of them were in the safety of the apartment's living room.

"go change, then get some sleep. you've been through a lot."

that was what gojo did as well, damn near tearing up when he saw your resting figure in front of his eyes. this time, he was not dreaming, he was not imagining better days with you; this time, you were actually there in the flesh.

he laid in bed with as minimal movement as possible as to not disturb you, hugged you close to his chest and drifted off to sleep after pressing a much needed kiss to your forehead and burying his face into your hair.

***

you've had the best sleep of your life since satoru and megumi left for that mission in shibuya, though it may have something to do with your dream.

in this dream, it was like you had satoru in your arms, safe and sound. with how much you've been thinking about him and your son, you have had these dreams frequently, but there's something different about this one.

it's much more vivid. it was like you could smell him under your nose. the scent that's musky and sweet and clean; that scent that reminds you of home. you could feel him, the smoothness of his skin, the temperature of him, the feeling of his tight black shirt. you could hear his soft breathing, calm, deep, and utterly relaxed. and you could see him in crystal clear hd. every faint freckle and mole he had on his face, his exposed neck and collarbones. you remembered him like you've been staring at him unceasingly for the last year, like he never left, and you were to retain every single one of his features.

only he was there. your eyes widened when you realized that fact. it wasn't a dream.

"oh my god," you murmured, running a gentle hand through his messy, battle-tossee hair, making sure to not wake him, then his rosy cheeks, then his plump lips, as if you were making sure that he's actually there and you aren't hallucinating him.

and he is. my god, he is. you tenderly kissed his forehead before carefully slipping out of his arms. after all, you were missing two boys.

you opened the door, not bothering to close it since you'd be returning to the room in a few minutes. you just had to make sure than your two men were there.

you slowly turned the knob to megumi's room, your heart swelling in your chesy when you saw the black haired sorcerer laying on his bed, face without the tension that you've always been worried were glued to his features.

you padded over to him, doing the same thing as you did to satoru. brushing the hair from his face and kissing his forehead.

"get some sleep, megs."

when he recovers as best as he can from whatever horrors he has faced in the last month, you'll be sure to treat him and take him somewhere he wants to be -- like a museum or aquarium, if he wanted. and satoru too, of course.

satoru who had a pout on his lips right behind you.

you almost jumped a foot in the air in surprise, but you were able to recover quickly and throw yourself into his waiting arms.

his touch not leaving you, he dragged you out of your son's bedroom and into yours.

"why'd you leave me?" he crossed his arms on his chest and furrowed his eyebrows making you laugh.

you missed his clinginess, his shenanigans so much.

you cradled his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. when you pulled away, you didn't leave an inch of space between you. a mere centimeter would be more accurate. "i'm sorry. wanted to check in on megumi too."

despite satoru's unaccepting hmph! he still leaned in to kiss you, pulling away a microscopic amount. "you could've just checked in on him later."

you pecked his lips again, keeping the same amount of distance as you did earlier; not a lot. "i wanted to check on him while you were still sleeping."

following the pattern established, he kissed you fleetingly again before speaking. "do i look like i'm asleep to you?"

surrendering, you laughed. it was music to satoru's ears, especially now he's gone so long without hearing it. "i guess you're right, i'm sorry."

satoru pulled you in tight so you were chest to chest, not even the thinnest piece of paper could get in between the two of you, yet for some reason, you and your boyfriend thought it was not close enough.

"you should be. i'm expecting a million kisses to even begin to make it up to me."

you smiled into his chest.

"however many you want."

satoru sighed contentedly.

"i missed you."

"i missed you too."

i get: reblog

you get: more DADDY'S HOMEEEEEE tiktoks

#order of the day! #order up for gojo! #one matcha mochi #with a side of coconut italian ice #gojo x reader #gojo one shot #gojo fluff #gojo fic #gojo x you #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk one shot #jjk fic #jjk x you

[machiavellli]

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

#theodore nott headcanons #my headcanons #my gif #Theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #Slytherin #Harry Potter fandom #theo nott x reader #Theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #breeding k1nk #theodore nott smut #theodore nott scenarios #preggo kink #Theodore nott x pregnant!reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter headcanon #fem reader #slytherin friend group #smut #italian literature #poetry #slytherin boys x you #theodore nott #pregnancy k1nk #Theodore nott aesthetic #new Roman Empire unlocked #dark academia

[leezlelatch]

What I Was Made For

Terzo x F! Reader - Comfort, skin to skin, love confessions. Sometimes you just need your Papa.

Terzo’s chasuble falls off his body in a rush of satin, pooling at his feet. His gloves come off in equal measure, tossed to the floor carelessly. He removes each layer of clothing with hurried hands, stopping only when he’s standing before you in nothing but his underwear. He slides into the seat next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm grip as he drags you across the leather couch. You don’t say anything as his hands lift your shirt and usher you out of your leggings, joining them in a heap on the floor next to his papal vestments. 

“Terzo,” you finally break, your voice small, and he shushes you. A long finger slides beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, even the white one like liquid as he regards you with a concerned and adoring smile. 

“I am here, piccolina,” he whispers, bringing your hands flat against the expanse of his chest to feel his heart beat steadily against your palms. “Do you feel me? I am here. I am here with you.” He continues to murmur this as he pulls you into a more comfortable position, cradling your head lovingly into the juncture of his neck as he reclines on the couch. “Feel my skin against yours. And breathe, mio dolce amore.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. He smells like caramel. He smells like your favorite candle. He smells like a warm pie baked in the chill of fall. He smells like home. You turn your nose into his skin and nuzzle against it, and Terzo almost coos, a sweet noise leaving his lips followed by a small chuckle. A chuckle of near disbelief as he pulls you closer. 

“Ah, what you do to me, eh? Make your Papa such a mess! I thought that was my job,” he squeezes you to him for a moment. “I will have to try harder, si?” He’s smiling, a contentment to his voice that you don’t think you have ever heard before. 

“You fluster me,” you murmur into his skin.

“Hmm? What was that?” He teases. “Speak up. Your Papa has a hard time hearing over his bravado, you see.” That makes you laugh, your body shaking on top of his. Terzo laughs with you, deep and joyful, and relieved. “There you are. Come along now, dolce.”

“I said, ‘you fluster me’,” you say a little louder, turning to hide your burning cheeks in the crook of his neck. You feel the brush of his lips upon your forehead and you grow quiet, sucking in a short and shaky breath. 

“Thank Satan,” he whispers, lips fluttering against your skin. “I was worried you were falling too close to the edge, and I could not catch you. My only choice, you see, is to fall with you.”

“I don’t want you to fall, Terzo,” your voice is quiet, sad. Your fingers draw through his chest hair, expression thoughtful as you rest skin to skin against him. His fingers copy your movements through your hair, his right hand sliding down to glide a gentle thumb across your cheek. 

“But that is the beauty of our love, is it not? We are clumsy together. We fall. And then we kiss each other’s bruises. They hurt a little less each day. Turn from black to yellow. And then they’re gone. Perhaps we shall look back on them, but they won’t hurt anymore. We will just remember the kiss,” his accented voice, melodic and warm, washes over you like a blanket. 

You start to sit up, Terzo following you, his fingers grasping at your skin. He is nearly desperate for you to understand. To help you through whatever melancholy is stuck to your precious heart. There are many things Terzo would admit to failing at in his lifetime. This would not be one of them. 

“Let me kiss them, amore. Please,” he begs softly, hands at your waist, massaging the soft skin there. “With you is where I am safest. Let me be safe for you.” 

The face of the former antipope in front of you is bare of makeup, his brow furrowed, the divot between his brows deepening every day. Crow's feet stretch from the outer corner of his eyes, marking a path of laughter across his face. Silver cuts through dyed black hair. He is the most beautiful man that you have ever seen. 

“I love you,” you tell him. Honest and hopeful and raw.

Terzo hands are on you, pulling you firmly back into his lap, wrapping arms and legs around you until any outside viewer wouldn’t know where you ended and he began. He’s heaving great breaths, bordering on a sob as he holds you so tightly against his flesh. 

“I love you. I love you. Satana, grazie per questa benedizione. Grazie, grazie,” he whispers fervently, pressing kiss after kiss against your temple, your cheeks, any inch of you he can reach. It has you giggling, and then he laughs too, and you’re both smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. 

“I don’t even remember what I was sad about,” you finally say, looking into his eyes, your lips mere inches of his. Terzo smiles, softer now, sweeter. 

“Exactly,” he whispers.

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #reader insert #female reader #papa emeritus iii #terzo emeritus #terzo #terzo x reader #terzo x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #comfort fic #papa iii #poorly translated italian