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sytoran · 1 month

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

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

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.

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.”

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

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #marvel smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #natasha x reader smut #sub natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #butch4femme #butch reader #femme4butch

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crystallizsch · 2 months

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the calm before the storm

#rereading en book 7 and i just quickly whipped this out #im hhhhh #imagine this was the last time they were studying together before yuu goes home #if that ever gets figured out #[—#twisted wonderland #twst #twst art #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst grim #twst ramshackle #twst yuu #★'-my-art #(🩷) yuuna #(🩷) heartshackle #—]

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wonbokkies · 1 year

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☆ because, its funny - nishimura riki

pairing: dance captain riki! x dance captain gn! reader!

genre: academic rivals in public, lovers in secret 🤭

word count: 2k :>

synopsis: you and riki bicker a lot, but behind closed doors, more than just teasing smiles are shared.

mi's note🎧: i love niki.

“five, six, seven, eight, and one!”

your stern voice echoed through the room, voicing the counts of the final parts of choreography your team had to learn. the loud, but synchronized screeching of shoes was the only thing being heard in the dance room, your commands added into the mix.

“eunchae, try to sharpen your moves a lil! it'll make you look even broader, especially when we perform onstage.” the said girl nodded and playfully saluted at you through the mirror, you grinning back at her.

you continued to give feedback and critique to your peers, creating some small talk between yourselves as you slid around.

practice continued, the repeating chorus of jay park’s all i wanna do booming through the schools empty halls. (you swore that you'd never listen to the song the same way again).

your team always practiced hard and never took your critique to heart- which is something you admired about them. being nominated as dance team leader was such an honor, your enthusiasm for the style of art showed every time you performed, whether on stage or alone. this didn’t go unnoticed by the public, you and your team being well known, even among other teams from other schools. but your team wasn’t the only one in decelis high.

suddenly you heard loud knocking and booming voices outside the room, causing all to halt their steps. you sighed once a group of yapping kids barged in, being led along by a tall boy with black hair falling over his eyes, a small smirk plastered on his face.

your team was extremely popular in decelis- but along with your school's second team- which was the loud group that walked in on your precious practice just now.

all led by the cunning senior, nishimura riki.

pausing your playlist, you called a desired “water break!” and made your way to stand in the middle of the room, right in front of the smirking boy. the others scattered behind, watching or chugging their beverage, eyeing the way your face contorted into a frown.

“why knock if you're just gonna come in anyways, nishimura?” crossing your arms you glared straight up at the boy's towering figure, rolling your eyes when he grinned in response. he shrugged.

“what? it's our turn to use the room.” glancing at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “we agreed on 4:30. it's already 4:35.”

“and your point is? you couldn’t even spare a few minutes, couldn't you?” you asked, annoyance visible in your tone. riki bent down to your height, gradually moving his face closer to yours, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden close proximity. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine.

“hmm... nope.” his deep voice traveled through the canal of your ear, causing the brims of them to heat up. you slapped his arm and shoved his face away, disgust displaying on your own.

“ew w-what the hell?. don’t ever do that again.” you stuttered out, frowning at the boy who was cracking up in front of you. to your dismay, your cheeks were turning the color of the peach sunoo fed you prior this morning.

“what? your reaction is funny.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark blue jeans, his smirk now turning into a cheeky grin. at this point it's about to haunt you in your sleep forever.

“whatever, you can have the room. i can't look at you without wanting to commit a crime.” riki chuckled and clapped his hands in delight.

“thanks y/n-shi you're the best!” he sent a thumbs up and a cunning smile, making you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time and curse under your breath.

“shutup.”

“aye aye captain.”

“alright guys, since nishimura over here is such a mope, we’ll continue tomorrow!” you called your group together and claimed practice over, getting some relieved sighs and thank yous in return. you too were tired and had planned to end it anyways, until the infuriating boy arrived.

☆ ★ ☆

“can't go a day without arguing with nishimura, huh?” jo questioned, you and a few others leaning against the school's rusted front gates.

“i think he likes you.” eunchae mentioned, eyebrows wiggling up and down teasingly. the others immediately agreeing with her.

“pfft, yea right. he just likes making me mad.” you took a chug of your lukewarm water and groaned in dissatisfaction at the temperature.

“because he likes you!” the group yelled synchronized like some sort of harmony. you could only laugh and shake your head, denying their assumptions. the topic soon died down like a flame as you all discussed the upcoming midterm exams, sharing some laughs and complaints here and there as everyone waited for their rides to arrive.

“you both fight like those married couples on tv. it’s horrendous.” taki, being the last one to leave, said, scrunching his nose and clenching onto the strap of his training bag.

“oh shush. go now, i think your mom is here.” and she was. taki waved you goodbye- of course not without sending a knowing grin getting into his car. you let out the breath you were holding in once the shiny white mercedes-benz was out of sight.

“yikes, that was close.”

“what was close?” you flinched hard hearing a deep voice behind you, and by instinct, you swung your arm, hitting a firm body and hearing an immediate groan. whipping your head around and ready to confront whoever was there, you were met with the surprising sight of your boyfriend holding his stomach.

nishimura riki.

“what the hell! you gotta stop doing that!” you said in a hushed tone, slapping him once more as he laughed at you in pain, eyes creasing in amusement (but in pain).

“what? like i said, it’s funny.” you scoffed and scanned his appearance. “but you didn’t have to hit me!” he exclaimed, holding his arm.

“i was gonna say sorry but you deserved it.” you stated and turned around, your back facing him, ignoring his presence purposely. riki held his hands out, attempting to reach for you.

“hey don’t do that! i’m joking baby, im joking!” he tried walking in front of you, only for you to turn the other way around and start walking towards the direction of the exit of the school.

“y/n, stop that. i’m just jokingggg,” riki whined, following you around like a lost puppy.

“shutup.” you shot back, pretending to act stubborn, knowing that your tall boyfriend craves your touch and hates when you ignore him. your pace increased as you walked down the sidewalk, making riki groan.

“we just had practice, don’t make me run now,” well now that just encouraged you to start running. straight away, you dashed down the sidewalk towards your neighborhood, letting out a breathy chuckle at the annoyed curses exiting your boyfriend's mouth from behind.

“hey, wait! y/n, stop running” you cackled at him once more and cut the corners, taking a shortcut that led to the back of your house. looking behind, you cheered when the boy who was once trailing your tail was out of sight. you made one last turn and arrived at your home, entering through the back door and locking it. you ran up the stairs and made your way to your room, giggling at the thought of riki’s lost face.

but soon, you were snapped out of your thoughts and a loud squeal left your lips as someone pulled you by the arm into your room, closing the door, and in less than a millisecond, you felt yourself getting pinned against the hardwood.

“holy crap- what the- how did you get here?” you said out of breath, holding your hand against your pounding chest. in front of you was riki, caging you between him and the door, one hand holding your shoulder and the other placed next to your head. how cliche !

“did you forget that you gave me an extra key for my birthday?“ he said, rolling his eyes. your mouth formed an O and you mentally facepalmed, mind picturing the silver key you gifted him with your face printed on it. letting out an oops and a shrug, riki shook his head and smiled down at you.

“why did you make me run you rat. i almost passed out because you're so damn fast.” he complained and you just grinned.

“because- it's funny.” you mimicked his words and chuckled at the growing pout forming on his lips.

“i thought you were actually mad at me until I heard you laughing,” you frowned once again.

“of course i’m not mad. i could never be mad at you.” your tone softened to reassure him. grabbing his arm that was placed against your head, you intertwined your soft fingers with his calloused ones, tugging him towards your bed and taking a seat, him following your actions right next to you.

wrapping your arms around the boy, he sighed in content, engulfing your small body into his and whiffing the calming scent of your perfume. he buried his face into your neck, causing an unconscious smile to grow on your features.

“riki my prince. what are you thinking of now?” you asked him softly, hands making their way to his soft, black locks. he immediately melted into your touch and let out a whine.

“i just realized your next performance is a couple dance.” he replied, voice muffled due to his face being shoved in the crook of your neck. you hummed in response and continued to comb your fingers through his hair, helping him relax.

“hush. you know its all a part of dance, there's no need to get jealous” you spoke out gently, hearing him whine.

“but you’re mineee,” he voiced out from your neck, and you couldn't help but giggle.

suddenly standing up from your position, riki frowned at the loss of warmth and contact.

“calm down baby,” you said, slowly moving onto his lap and wrapping your legs around him, immediately clinging onto him like a koala as you tackled him onto your soft sheets.

“there, better?” he nodded and pulled you in closer into his embrace (if that was even possible).

“who knew the captain of the rival decelis dance team would be so clingy?” you teased, causing him to groan, generating vibrations against your neck as you heard a small shutup leave his lips. now it was your turn to smirk.

“don't act like you're not deeply infatuated with me either. i know you get jealous of my fangirls.” riki said leaving his hiding spot, his deep voice reaching your ears like a sonata.

“whatever. i know you’re mine at the end of the day.” you said, holding his face between your palms, grazing his cheek with the pad of your thumbs. he shivered at the feeling of your cold fingertips against his skin. looking into your star-filled eyes, he smiled. oh, how lucky he was to have you. how endearing you were.

slowly leaning in closer to his face, you started to pepper kisses all over, your tinted lips leaving slight heart shaped marks on his sunkissed features. starting to feel ticklish, riki let out a giggle and squirmed under your hold.

you placed a kiss on his right cheek. one on his left cheek. one on his chin. several on his neck. one on his forehead. one on each of the moles speckled on his pretty face. you made sure to place your lips on every single piece of his skin, except for his own lips.

because the best is always saved for last, right?

and finally, you smiled down at your entranced boyfriend, his glowing skin adorned with your marks. you catch sight of his adoration-filled eyes gazing straight into your own, before swooping down to place a chaste kiss on his pretty, pretty lips. but before you could pull away, he held the back of your head gently against his and locked his plush pink lips with your burgundy ones, rubbing the hair behind your neck softly.

“and you’re mine too,” he mumbled against your lips, causing you to smile and connect your mouth with his pillowy ones once again. you laughed in your head knowing that tomorrow, none of these loving looks or affectionate touches will be exchanged with each other until the bright, exhausted sun decides to rest. but throughout the teasing, you were both loving each other unconditionally.

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perm. tl: @nyangified

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adonisbeloveds · 10 months

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Child y/n wanting attention from Wally: Wally: So you think you can just tilt your head like that and its going to convince me to give you whatever you want? Wally: Well your absolutely right, what do you want? do you want treats? do you want my soul? do you want my undying loyalty? i'll give you anything.

#☾★ adonis beloveds ★☽#☾★ adonis ★☽#child reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #male reader #political #reader insert #welcome home wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home #wally darling x you #wally darling #wally darling x male reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader

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lomltrentarnold · 11 months

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I’ve got a request maybe the reader is a bit of an airhead/ really clumsy and hurts herself a lot and ends up in hospital and trent hears mid game and rushes to her but she’s just laughing coz she fell or something. Reader being a bit ditzy 😂❤️

oopsie ✶ trent alexander-arnold

💌 hana’s notes : no bc this could definitely happen to me 💀 i changed it a lil bit i hope that’s okay <3 | main masterlist

“Your boyfriend is here.”

Your ears immediately perked up when the nurse informed you. The hand that was holding the ice pack on your head fell on your lap. Your eyes searched for him and there he stood, in his lfc hoodie a red bull cap on his head wearing a worried look on his face.

“Baby.” he whispered, rushing towards to where you’re sitting on top of the bed and settling between your thighs.

“Hey.” you said, winching a bit when you try to move your head and hug him.

Trent rested his hand on your arm, holding you in place “Hey, slow down, it’s okay.” he immediately took the ice pack from your hand and placing it back on your forehead where a bruise is already forming. “What happened?” he asked, hand protectively setting on your hip.

“I fell and hit my head a little.” you shrugged, a little laugh escaping your lips. “I wanted to grab those fancy plates at the upper shelf because you’re mom is coming this weekend. It was a little funny cause I knew that I was gonna fell but then I wanted to defy gravity like all those characters in movies so-“

Trent let out a deep breath and shook his head, “Baby.” an adoring smile tugging up on his lips. “You should really be more careful. You’re lucky it’s not serious.” he scolded, pinching your nose, making you scrunch up your face.

He lifted the ice pack on your forehead and his smile quickly dropped when he peaked at your bruise. You look up at him, eyes softening when you saw how worried he was.

“It’s not even that bad.” you mumbled as a pout formed on your lips. Guilt washing over you when you realised he rushed from a long match. “Sorry I made you rush here. You must be exhausted.”

“It’s okay babe.” he said, his unoccupied hand moving to cup your face, before leaving a peck in your nose. “Just glad you’re okay.”

You hummed, body relaxing in his hold. A sudden thought cross your mind and you can’t help but let it out, “Did you shower?”

Trent already know where you’re going with this, “Nah, it’s okay though. I prefer showering at home.”

“No wonder you stink.” There it is.

“Hey!” he playfully scoffed, “Is this what I get for being your knight and shining armour?”

You giggled at his dramatic attitude, the sound pulling on Trent’s heartstrings. “I love you though.”

“Love you too.” he whispered.

“Stinky boy.” you added, making Trent roll his eyes.

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait, I’m joking!”

reblog for a kiss <3

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plleeeepppyyyy · 9 months

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HELLO!!! I just want to say I really enjoy reading your Wally ficlets! They’re so adorable and you capture his personality nicely 🥹❤️

May I request Wally with a reader who secretly admires him? So much that they write him little notes in secret which expresses their admiration and love towards him?

Thank you!!!

- Cowboy Anon 🤠 💛❤️💙

• wally + secret admirer reader!!

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(why thank you 4 the praises cowboy anon,!!♡︎ also so sorry for posting this so late :( ) i’m finally back writing these!1!1! ngl i’ve been having trouble being consistent and writing. i think i have writers block,, but hopefully you guys enjoy this one!! i was gonna wait till clown dropped more stuff on the 21,, but i decided i was gone for a little bit longer than i wanted so i just HAD to post this one down! (•̀ᴗ•́)

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•now wally is the very observant type, he’s always kept tabs on his friends, just.. everything.

•but, he can’t really seem to figure out who exactly is giving him these little notes! it just confuses him greatly,,

•the first few times these notes have popped up, he def was confused. he went around and asked his neighbors if they were the one who did this or if they knew who did it. but they wouldn’t tell him! it definitely got him more confused.

•when it came to you, you also made up an excuse. you just.. didn’t really have the courage to tell him? plus, you found it really cute on how happy he was when he received the gifts and notes you got him.

•yes, it wasn’t only notes. it was flowers, stuff he would like, even full fledged letters!

•every-time wally received these, he always got so flustered. i just imagine him looking at the flowers you secretly gave him with a confused look, but his smile was still there.

•hell, he even asked home if they knew who it was. it doesn’t really matter if home knew or not, home wouldn’t tell him.

•despite not knowing who was giving him these gifts, he still took great care of it. especially the flowers, he really enjoys the flowers. he always found himself just smiling at them, the fact that someone out there was doing all of this for him had him so, so happy.

•he’ll find himself gushing over these gifts too, maybe to julie, barnaby, anyone. even you, so it definitely was hard to not just yell out that the flowers he was giggling over was yours!

ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ

❀❀❀

•nonetheless,,seeing him smile and just happy over these little things you’d do for him, made you so happy. yet, it did give you bit of a doubt, it had you thinking of, “oh, what if he’s expecting julie? or howdy? or anyone else beside me?!” it gives you the shivers just thinking of it.

•meanwhile with wally, he didn’t really think of who would do this for him. barnaby, well he would just pop up with a gift, he wouldn’t lead him on this long.. same with julie, julie would show up with a bunch of handpicked flowers. definitely not frank and eddie! maybe howdy.? not poppy.. she wouldn’t, nor sally. hm, it was a tough thing to think about. but then when he thought of you, he really wondered if it was you. who was doing all of this for him.. but, he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

•so, it remained a huge mystery for him. even so, wally accepted all of these things you’ve sent him. every note and letter, he finds himself reading them daily.. each flower taken care of carefully, any painting supplies and gift taken with gratitude. he definitely was attentive and careful with the stuff. he sent letters once in a while,, basically just thanking you, or “the secret admirer” for all of the gifts. it was a little hard for him to write the letters though, considering he didn’t know who it was!! (ง'̀-'́)ง

•at first not being able to find out who was sending him these gifts made him a little.. droopy, he just wished they could tell him or anything! but,, having the thought of one day showing them how gently and diligently he took care of their gifts made him admittedly a little happy.

•so, it continued on.. you kept sending wally stuff and he just accepted it with a big old smile. julie definitely knew you were doing this, and frankly.. she was annoyed. why couldn’t you just send him it yourself? she would’ve done it for you, and say it was from you!! but that was just julie.. eddie is definitely making a bank sending your notes and such to him. but she does help you, and hopes one day you’ll finally let up!

•pretty much it’s only a few neighbors you tell about this admiring you’ve been doing. but,, julie is a bit too TALKATIVE. so some others find out,, some others figured it out. (ur not very sneaky i guess…)

•it’s a little funny it’s like,, you and wally are just talking and the other neighbors are on the sidelines SCREAMING at you two to finally get some backbone and make it official.. (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

•the problem with wally is that he’s just too stubborn and he thinks a little too much!! he just doesn’t like to assume and he can’t just outright go to you,, well he would. but he would save you the embarrassment.. if it were you.

•soo one day after soo many attempts to get you two to finally notice or fess up, julie blurted out to wally that it was you!! it was you, you were doing all these things for wally and it was soo obvious!! (in her words at least.)

•around the time, wally actually had a suspicion you were the culprit of these lovely written letters! soo, to say he was happy and a bit unsurprised. he had been paying attention to the way you wrote your letters, and that familiar handwriting was YOUR cute handwriting! he felt a little silly for hesitating to go to you about this whole ordeal. he just had to at least do something in your favor after all of the stuff you gave him.

•he was thinking of a painting for you,, but he wanted to catch you surprised.

•soo, the next day after, he had eddie deliver a bouquet of flowers right to you. obviously in your favorite color as well… he was just attentive like that. ❤︎︎

•once eddie delivered the flowers to you, admittedly pretty excited for you, there was a little note on it! at this time, you didn’t know who did this, hoping it was wally though. and to your shock, it was! you could obviously tell since he wrote a two word note..

“it’s you! :)”

• was what he wrote.. yes, very eerie and out of context wally. but still it was the thought that count. like said, he wanted to surprise you as many times as you did for him.

•and oh, boy were you surprised. admittedly very scared since you were going at a slow pace trying to show wally your love and admiration!

•you assumed it was julie who ratted you out, you called her up and she did admit it was her. she felt a little bad but at the same time, you needed a push! you felt too awfully nervous but julie was right, you couldn’t lead wally on too long. you just couldn’t.

•you thought and thought about what to say to wally.. since in your opinion you were better at words in letters than in person. but you had a nice idea.

•about after those thought and stress inducing hours, you decided to puff up and gain some confidence. usually you would hand pick some flowers for him, since the flowers around here were pretty looking. so that’s exactly what you did, you got some stuff from howdy’s and made a pretty good-looking bouquet, just to return the favor.. (you got a bit better at decorating stuff during this whole period of wally’s gifts.)

•despite having thoughts and feeling very reluctant, you just had to do this sooner or never. you dragged wally on for far too long, you went up to home. and by gods, home was READY for this day. he was getting pretty sick of the lingering gifts and thoughts you guys were cooping up together unknowingly.

•it was as if wally was waiting for you to show up and he immediately opened the door before you could knock or at least home could tell him you were here. his usual smile on his face, but his eyes seemed to hold some type of happiness on it. happiness he hadn’t felt in a good while at least..

•you felt even more nervous as he was RIGHT there in front of you, all you could do was just give him the flowers and say something as simple as he had.

“it’s me.”

•good thing he learned how to hug before this all happened!! he didn’t say anything else and just wrapped you in the biggest hug he could ever muster up, perhaps the biggest hug he’s given someone so far at least. he felt really happy, now he could show you how well he took care of the stuff you gave him and you could finally just give him the gifts in person like this.

•as much as he adored the letters and notes, and adored waiting for them daily, he preferred this. just having you near and by his side.

•it seemed as if all you guys could say to each other were just simple words, even if it was simple, it still held impact.

• “it is you.” was what he said, he really wished he could’ve kissed you. but this would have to do for now, maybe he could’ve learned how to do such a thing with you. he wouldn’t want to learn it with any other person anyway.

•once you guys pulled away for what seemed to be forever, he blew you a kiss. his smile seemingly more genuine from the norm, you were glad you did this. preferably the others would be glad as well, considering it was like watching a slow burn romance fold right in front of you.. that little blow kiss was a way of his thank you to all of the gifts you gave him. he definitely had to repay you greatly.

•you guys didn’t say anything like, “i love you”, at least yet.. you talked about how you really liked him and admired him. and you just couldn’t get the courage to give you the gifts in person, nonetheless wally was understanding. he still enjoyed them and he really liked them.

•after this interaction you guys were finally official!

•although wally was hesitant to date you considering he didn’t even know how to kiss. (╥_╥)

•but to you even if wally couldn’t kiss properly yet, blowing kisses, giving letters, gifts and hugs would do just fine. even if you guys were now together you wouldn’t stop praising him in letters or profess your love through gift giving.

•you were honestly just getting started on that, and definitely not planning on stopping anytime soon! (≧◡≦) ♡

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hopefully this was pretty good, i got a lil sappy at the end to be honest!! (╥_╥) but i wrote this a while back sooo, still this was def a cute request!!

again, so so, sorry for all the people who sent requests!! imma make sure i post the stuff i’ve written down so far next week and so on. writers block is a pain sometimes tho!! (for the new writings at least..) ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

ミ★

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #★✩

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 2 months

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Something about women that know how to use a weapon/know how to fight that makes my ovaries throb🥰

#★ꨄ𝒋𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔ꨄ★#Mizu my pretty bby #come home the kids miss you #luvv4j4ybe11 #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #Mizu edits

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opikiquu · 7 months

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#★ my art #doodles #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk doodles #tbhk #tbhk nene #nene yashiro #my bsf gave me her tbhk manga she abandoned (how rude) so ill give them a new home 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷#i love hanako i swear #but its like. I want to attack him also #yashiro what a girlfail (positive)#shes so cute :)#shes the best the characters need to LEAVE HER ALONE!!!!!!!!#im only on chapter 8 nobody tell me she dies or something like that

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driaswrld · 6 months

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actually crying rn.

#★ DRIATLKS #im so??? emotional???#BRING THEM HOME NOW #yuu's pretty bright eyes....#yuuta's cute lil gaze #the wink #toru's DIMPLE STOP #LET THEM HUG N BE GOOFY N SILLY #im sobbing gege ur such a sadist.

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voccinas · 6 months

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golden by jk

#home of ★#bts #bts moodboard #bangtan sonyeondan #bts jk #golden jungkook #jungkook #jungkook icons #jungkook moodboard #bg moodboard #kpop moodboard #black and white #alternative icons #moodboard #messy icons #alt icons

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sytoran · 24 days

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home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls.

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

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