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melankkholy · 4 months ago

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catalepsy

✎ What could be better than spending the last warm days of September in your boyfriend’s lap?

cw: leon being a daddy :³, fluff(ish), breeding kink is going raw w this one, reader on the crack!! (doing some coke and shiii), semi public sex, dumbification, fingering, d in v, size kink, age diff, fem! reader, MDNI

Vegas to L.A., L.A. to Vegas, and Vegas to California. Then Italy. Your on-again, off-again relationship with Leon, which has been going on for a while (okay, let’s say about a whole year), is the epitome of chaos. Mobility and jeopardy. Lots of money. Your old life bears no shred of resemblance to the seconds you're spending now. You used to be an employee at the Graham mansion, a girl who would snoop in Ashley’s bedroom at midnight and drink the nectar between her legs until the morning. That changed when the president found out that his daughter was sleeping with some dumb no-name girl (you!). Wild times. No wonder your dismissal came with the first light of the next day. It wasn’t a pretty story after that; at bottom, no money, no happily ever after.

But luckily Ashley introduced you to him. Leon Kennedy. The man who will hire you to babysit the child he begot from a one-night stand. Oh, boy. Why, what can you say? The guy was tough, hot, but stone cold. At first, he was dead straight. But the years thresh everyone with grief and a lot of bullshit emotions in the name of experience. Say it’s because he liked the way you esteemed his son, or something else you don’t know, but the more time you spent with him, the more good-natured his mettle grew. Gradually and incrementally. Sure, you looove money, but you’re no gold digger. A bond of trust, little glimmers of respect, and, of course, the sweet chemistry between the two of you spawned something very unique and new.

Hold on a second. Where does this money come from?

You did question it. Over and over. If you got an answer, all the better. Of course, getting unambiguous answers from the mouth of a man like Leon is a big hassle; it always makes your stomach twist, it puts you on edge, and your abdominal muscles and heart squeeze so tightly that you think you must be knocked up with his child, even though the tests come back negative. You’re just being so silly.

It’s not a big deal. Leon fucking loves you. Who gives a sod about the crass mistakes you two made in the past? He loves you so much that if he ever releases you from his lap for just a second, his brain will be tangled, scratched, scribbled, all fucked up. Like the embers of police sirens flashing blue and red in the darkness. Like twenty-one-year-old-rookie Leon’s brain, struggling to fall asleep in the bed of a shit-strewn hotel he found at random. That Leon, a loser who broke out of Raccoon City years ago.

He doesn’t know why he’s hung up on you when he knows he shouldn’t be so attached to anyone. All he wants is to spend quality time with his pretty baby. All the time.

The only reason for the fever in his loins, especially right now with your ass in his lap. The teeny sundress clings to your body angelically, the tulle over your lovely skin. Well, that’s why he calls you an angel. Leon devotes his life to that apparition, to you, namely.

“Thought you wanted to go skinny-dipping?”

He knows. He knows you can’t leave him for the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Not right now, you know, since there’s no pedantic baby for you to babysit right now. Understand, he’s a sweet boy, Leon’s little boy. But what would he be doing on vacation, right? On your very own private and personal vacation, obviously. It’s just you and your boyfriend, and that Diet Pepsi sippy cup with the stardust in it that you’ve leaked a pinch or two into.

What a late summertime activity.

“Maybe for tonight and definitely with you,” you say it omnisciently. A short sip of coke, and nothing is stopping you from lacing kisses on his lips that are cherry and pulverized pink from your previous kisses, letting him taste the tiny vestiges of vanilla icys that linger on your lips, and seconds later, when you slip your tongue between his teeth to get him as high as you are in the heart of late afternoon. Leon and getting high only go the way of neat whiskey, but you’re the kind of twist that changes his rules, the kind he takes for granted.

When his palms find your ass snug and trace your flesh with steely resolve over the top of your dress, the kiss is only broken in that very second, a sharp shake of breath drifting between your glossy lips.

“Ow. I told you I don’t like my ass all purple,” your repining tonal laments with a sass that is both habitual and secretly endearing to him. And you’re lying. You like your ass purple and flushed after some good spanking from him.

“What a crybaby you turned out to be.” Leon is, as you know, cynical. His blues are coarse; the halo of the afternoon sun striking his face through his eyelashes gives them a shade of verdant teal.

It’s nothing new that he repeatedly catches you looking at his face. His face is so pretty, you can’t help it. Observant, of course, as is his job. Still, watching you contemplate him under your starry-eyed gaze tugs at his heartstrings. To fall in fucking love like this after forty is damn near unhealthy.

But he loves you when he lifts your dress and catches the licentious view he wants to capture; he loves you when you refuse to put your panties on when you leave your hotel room and go out for brunch on the terrace. Especially the notch you make as the air is ripped out of your lungs, embodying your purity, is everything for Leon. It’s heart-stopping, which is why it doesn’t bode well for his heart. What if he fucking died of a heart attack? The alcohol (and earlier bout of seizures that lasted for a while before you) had already fucked up and altered his body enough.

Oh, meh.

“Got wet, hmmm?” Captain Obvious can’t be more serious. But he sounds adorable, so you don’t say anything to put him off. Over and above that, his thumbing of the clam of your clit is a fucking must-have class.

“How the hell have you been sitting like this all morning? My poor girl.” Simultaneously, his head lifts up and his finger dips into your wetness; your pussy fits just nicely; he leers at you, straight into your eyes. It’s affectionate, yeah, but his eyes are... you don’t know. There’s something about them.

“Dunno,” you gasp out, “maybe just to keep you from overworking yourself, old man.” You tighten up, but even that doesn’t stop you from throwing in an allusion to his given age.

“Sure, baby, sure, you’re just makin’ sure the old man stays safe.” His quirky drawl rings in your ears as your clit tinkles on his thumb. The sight is a blessing for him, but of course the cock menu before the evening hits is what you want, and in the night, he wants your pussy; he wants to eat you out before a good night's sleep. It’s a must.

Leon finds it funny; it’s cute, but it’s another matter that he plays rather meanly with your clit, parsing and stroking the pulp until the puck flickers on his thumb. It’s the fingers, sculpted by years of drill, that you cum on the spot.

Pathetic.

The grains of fizzy cola splashed from the pint in your hand, and the liquid that washes over you—that’s pathetic. The mess on the navy blue shirt Leon decided to throw on at the last minute, too.

He’s not mad; don’t even worry about that stuff.

Isn’t that just mutual love? Aww. Then, of course, it won’t be long before you’re whining and pestering the hell out of him, and he’s taking the glass full of coke from your hand to place it on the table behind you so he can take the shaft of his cock and smack it into your warm, sucking hole, the leaky tip wetting the even wetter entrance.

“I do assure you I can perfectly fuck a little baby into this pretty pussy,” he whinges, throaty. Dirty talk is on the spot.

Everybody craves an afterglow, and men like Leon crave a good fuck, precisely a pretty girl bouncing on his dick on his vacation. That’s the norm.

You do the rest anyway, taking him nicely and squeezing the dick little by little, lingering until a little bump forms in your tummy.

“Fuuuucks,” are panted out. You both do it. You, because of that pain and sheer pleasure, and he just has pleasure; his pain is for much disparate motives. There’s always a desire to sink himself deeper, but you are always tight, wet, too, thank God, but just too tight for him to sculpt your insides around his cock.

“Fuck, Leon. F—fuck.”

When he bottoms out, your pitch is invariably more slurred and more aggressive, and your pussy plays like a virgin for him. You can hardly even hold your head up; it’s so heavy.

It’s the voice of his in your head that brings you back to the Mediterranean afternoon when you feel like you’re caving in, like you’re just about to split in half. Beautifully.

“Baby, you’ll get us kicked out of this damn hotel,” his cautionary lulling is in your ears at last. Who cares? He’s got the dough; he can hire; hell, he can buy a whole hotel building.

“Shh, you ain’t gonna pass out on me now, doll.” Somewhere in his voice there’s distress, but his expectant gaze on you is dense. Still, he doesn’t act like a complete asshole and assuredly grips your hips to tuck you back, right on the mean dick. Next thing you know, he’s tattooing your cervix as he jacks you like a doll, his doll, on his thick cock. Raw as always, so what’s a condom? That’s what the pill is for.

The magic of kisses, sloppy blows on the lips, the trick of a cock that fires bullets in and out of you, busing your clit, rocks the whole world away and rattles the chaise lounge beneath you. You’re already a goner. Like hell. Blood and sweat, metaphorically speaking, but that’s not going to fetch the man cumming within you after your second orgasm. You can complain later, 'cause realistically, no man could be that good. But Leon’s the best of the best, so who knows? Maybe he’s been in this business many times before you, with pretty girls and even prettier pussies.

The very thought that makes your heart skitter inside urges you to cling to him and shove your face into his chest. It’s something he wasn’t expecting, so Leon almost hesitates to cradle your face.

“Looking so pretty — pretty — fucking pretty,” he grates his teeth again and again.

He’s cumming, nowhere that fast, but deep, sticky, cozy, and adhesive. It’s not the most satisfying aftermath in this summer heat, but your cunt is still milking deliciously (greedily) what’s leaking into her. It’s exactly in these moments that Leon realizes once again that you will always accept him no matter what.

Fuck it, he should just make you his controversially younger wife.

And he has got some plans in his mind, well assured.

The companionable silence between you is something; how the sun filters down over the horizon, and how your breathing is now regaining its normal rhythm. His balls are now much lighter.

How romantic.

“When will you marry me?"

His question is an impulsive one that pierces the stillness. Is this guy serious, or is he just fucking with you? Are you too high? Oh man, it was just a little pinch of crack cocaine in the cola. Can’t be that loaded, right?

Your lack of words and the fog on your face are too opium; it’s like a sugar high. What a silly girl you are, his girl. In sooth, while he’s still inside you, he needs to ask you one more time, “The ring is in the room. I shit you not. We gotta call it a wedding.”

Just say yes already.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil death island #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy smut

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communicationthroughlyrics · 4 months ago

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She Had Other Plans

You were a successful leader of a criminal empire. Your girlfriend was a successful tease, especially when you are halfway around the globe.

PT. 2

AN: I hate my mind sometimes. I just stew and stew and can't get an idea outta my head. So here is one of them. And this is my first time using one of those text message thingies, so yeah. And before yall ask, yes. there will be a part 2. 😂

TW: smut, daddy kink, strap-on sex, teasing, mentions of murder, mob!boss reader, uhhh yeah. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.6K

In your line of work, you were away from home constantly. You traveled the world, helping to fuel people's darkest and most deceitful habits, for profit. Exploitation, power, and retribution were your specialties. Your heart had grown cold, at least to those on the outside, which was a necessary trait for your survival. You maintained your polished, playgirl public image well, a successful young business magnate, and you dabbled in philanthropy and charity to keep your reputation to the public clean.

Meanwhile, in the underbelly of society, you were ruthless, ensuring your legacy was cemented even if you departed this godforsaken world. You had climbed the ladder of power with precision, leaving a trail of the broken and betrayed beneath you. It was a world where trust was as fleeting as the morning dew, and everyone had a price. Those who worked for you closely would say you were calculating and charismatic, while those on the wrong side of the line knew you as being one step ahead, making your power felt through silence, vengeance, and detachment.

You had single-handedly become the largest mob boss in the United States, and that quickly spread into other countries, building relationships across the globe. Some were built on trust and loyalty, others on fear and mutual benefit.

Business had called you away to Malta, where you had to bury an up-and-coming threat to your growing kingdom and quell any unrest in your distant ranks. It had been a stressful week, albeit a successful one. When the phone call came across that ushered you away to the Mediterranean, you had been in the middle of…other business. Personal business. Having been teasing your girlfriend all day long, you had finally pushed the sexual tension to a head. The brunette had been panting and begging for you, dressed in lingerie that cost more than most people's cars.

When the call came through, you had left her with explicit expectations as to how she would need to handle her sexual fever in your absence. No touching. No teasing. Most importantly, no whining. That was your number one rule. Begging? Yes. Whining. No.

She had tried her damndest to get you to finish what you had started, but you knew this had to be taken care of expeditiously. So, you left a lace-clad goddess in your shared room while you literally left to murder someone. The following night, she began to push your buttons. She knew your limits, and experience taught her just how far she could push you to get a reaction, one that would benefit you both.

Wanda was 'conveniently' caught outside of your NYC penthouse, leaving in a barely-there skirt with a leather jacket and the pair of black Louboutins you had just bought her. The stocking-clad legs that were strutting out of your building, you knew should be wrapped around your waist, while you had her favorite strap buried to the hilt in her drenched pussy, or wrapped around your head as you mercilessly took out your workday frustrations on her.

However, you were 4,000 miles away, watching photos roll across your social media of the 'mystery woman' who had been able to bag you. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to flaunt what you walked out on 12 hours ago, leaving her a babbling, flustered, drenched mess.

Your hand tightened around the phone, your jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Your blood boiled with a mix of anger and desire. You had given her an order, but she had chosen to ignore it. The thought of her walking around like that, looking like that, for anyone else to see made you want to rip out the throat of every man on the street. You had been looking forward to coming home to her, to teaching her a lesson she'd never forget. But now, it looked like she had decided to bring the lesson to you.

She flew under the radar for the next two days, and you were thankful. You missed her greatly, and you wanted to show her just how much when you got home. You were willing to let the wardrobe choice from the other night slide, just to have a night of wanton passion in the penthouse, no punishment, no edging, no teasing.

She had other plans.

You were in the middle of a meeting when your phone started to buzz incessantly in your slacks. This was a meeting you had to focus on, but the constant vibration indication yet another text had been sent was slowly chipping away at your resolve to stay sharp for this meeting. You had told her not to contact you during work hours unless it was an emergency. Looking at some of the texts, you knew this was no emergency. No matter how desperate she made herself sound.

You growled at the phone, knowing she wouldn't respond to any more texts from you. She was playing a game of cat and mouse, and you had a boardroom full of sharks waiting for your undivided attention. You slammed the device down, your eyes narrowing as you turned back to the table. Shutting the phone off, you knew that when it turned back on, you would be greeted with a disaster.

The meeting couldn't end fast enough, you wanted to call her and put her in her place, but the meeting ran long, as you and your new alliance couldn't quite come to an agreement for goods and services rendered.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you had come to an agreement, so you quickly and curtly nodded in everyone's direction, gathering your suit jacket and flinging it over your shoulder as you swiftly made your way down the hall to your waiting car, turning your phone back on as you approached the outside doors.

You climbed into the back of the black Town Car, opening your messages to see some pictures from your girlfriend, taken at obscure angles- her clad in a new lingerie set. You knew it was new, they were a color she hadn't worn before, a navy blue number that stood out against her tanned skin. The photos had been sent with no accompanying text, which was unlike her. Usually, she'd write something teasing, begging for your attention. But these were just…there. They were like silent pleas for your dominance, your authority. You groaned at the images before you, each more provocative than the next.

What made your pulse spike was the Snapchat notification from her. She had just sent you a video. Then there was another. She continued to send you videos until she had reached a total of 11. Knowing these would not just be an ordinary snap, you slipped a headphone into your ear while you opened each video, in the order you received them. The first was her dancing on the pole you installed in the corner of your room, the familiar sound of 'Skin' playing in the background as she worked her hips and taunted you through the phone.

The last video was the final straw. Your most fundamental rule.

She sent you a video of her, sprawled out on the bed, her features were flush, and her chest was heaving. She was still clad in her racy new lingerie, and it was then you noticed it was crotchless. Your mouth went dry at the thought, as her hands made their way up and down her body. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your phone, the scene before you becoming too much. She buried her fingers knuckle deep in her wet heat, pornographic moans coming through your earbud as you watched her pleasure herself.

You had told her explicitly, no touching herself. You had promised her that when you returned, you would take care of her needs. You had been looking forward to it, to watching her come apart in your arms. But here she was, in your own bed, disobeying you. The betrayal stung, but the sight of her was like a siren's call. You felt a storm of emotions, anger, desire, and something…more. It was a feeling that hadn't surfaced in a long time, something you weren't quite familiar with.

You boarded your jet and tried to calm the storm that was brewing deep within you for the 13-hour flight home. The images of her playing with herself, the thought of her ignoring your command, it was all you could think about. You felt a mix of anger, arousal, and a hint of something else that you hadn't felt in years. She was a challenge, and you hadn't had one a challenge in a very long time.

You tried to distract yourself, completing some work on your phone, trying to read articles about New York politics, but nothing could distract you from the inferno that was building up inside you. Each passing moment brought with it a new wave of desire, the images of her writhing in pleasure burned into your retina. You had to admit, she knew exactly how to push your buttons, and she had just pushed the biggest one of all. You slammed your phone down in frustration, crossing your arms as you peered out the window to the clouds below. After three hours of 'distraction', you finally fell into a restless, lustful slumber.

The flight seemed to drag on forever, but when you landed at JFK, you were more than ready to deal with her. You texted her, telling her to be home, naked, and waiting for you. You didn't care if she had plans or not, she'd learn to prioritize your commands. You had a feeling she was going to be a handful, but that was what you liked about her.

You stalked over towards the waiting convoy of blacked-out vehicles that were waiting to take you home. The sound of your dress shoes echoed through the private lobby to your elevator, as you impatiently waited for the cabled car to come down from the top floor, watching the numbers descend from floor 98 to you, on the third garage floor.

As you stepped into the elevator, you could feel the anticipation building. You were going to show her exactly who was in charge, and what happens when she breaks the cardinal rule. The doors closed with a satisfying 'ping', and you ascended to your penthouse, your mind racing with scenarios of what you would do when you saw her. The elevator doors parted, revealing the sleek, marble floors in your home, the baby grand piano tucked in the corner, and the twinkling New York skyline a backdrop to what carnal acts were about to take place. You turned on your heel, making your way to the furthest room in the house, your bedroom. As you made your way down the corridor to the bedroom, you noticed the doors shut, but a glow came from underneath them.

Your heart rate quickened, your hand hovered over the doorknob, and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open. She lay on the bed, huddled to one side, peacefully sleeping with a book in her hands. She looked innocent, but you knew better. You strode over to the bed, the floorboards giving a slight creak under your weight, but she didn't stir. Carefully, you plucked the book away from her, running your thumb over her nose to wake her up.

"Ragazza monella," you spoke softly, your pent-up frustration leeching into your normally collected voice.

Her eyes snapped open, revealing the deep pools of green that had captivated you from day one. She looked up at you with a lazy smile, not a hint of guilt in her gaze. "You're home," she purred, stretching her limbs like a cat in the sun.

"I see you couldn't wait for me," you said, your voice thick with unspoken accusation as you threw your phone to the side.

Her smile didn't waver. "I've missed you," she replied, her voice a low, seductive purr that sent a shiver down your spine. She sat up, letting the blanket pool around her waist, the hoodie she was wearing you instantly recognized as one of yours.

"I gave you an order, Wanda," you said, your voice low and menacing.

"And I chose to ignore it," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.

Her audacity was like a drug, and you felt yourself growing more and more crazed at the sight of her. She knew the consequences of her actions, yet she reveled in them. "You know what happens when you don't follow orders," you growled, your hand sliding under the soft fabric of the hoodie to cup her cheek.

Her smile grew wider, and she leaned into your touch. "Do I?" she challenged, her voice a breathy whisper.

With a swift move, you had her pinned down on the bed, the fabric of the hoodie riding up to expose her lingerie-clad body. "You're going to regret this," you warned, your voice dark with desire.

"Am I?" she questioned, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Your hand trailed down her body, tracing the curve of her waist to the apex of her thighs. "You're already wet for me," you murmured, feeling the dampness between her muscular, toned thighs.

"I'm always wet for you, Papi," she emphasized your pet name, knowing how much you adored her calling you that.

Your eyes narrowed at her insolence, and you felt your ego swell with a mix of anger and desire. "You know the rules," you reminded her, your voice a mix of steel and seduction.

"And you know I love to break them," she whispered, her voice a seductive dance in the quiet room.

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, your grip firm but not painful. "This is your last warning," you murmured, your eyes dark with lust and promise of punishment.

Her eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of relenting, but she found none. Instead, she felt a thrill run through her body. This was what she had been craving, what she had missed in your absence. The power play, the delicious tension between your dominance and her submission.

"What's it going to be?" she asked, her voice a challenge wrapped in velvet.

Without a word, you yanked the hoodie over her head, leaving her in just the new lingerie set. The room was filled with the sound of fabric tearing as you ripped away the crotchless part of her underwear, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. She gasped at the sudden exposure, her body arching into yours.

"You're going to learn your place," you said, your voice a low rumble. You leaned down, your mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss that claimed ownership over her. She moaned into your mouth, her body responding instinctively to your touch, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer.

The kiss grew more intense, your tongue invading her mouth, demanding submission. She met your dominance with her own passion, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, drawing a bead of blood. The taste of it made you growl, and you deepened the kiss, your hand sliding down to squeeze her ass.

Finally, you pulled away, breathing heavily. "You're going to get what you asked for," you warned, your eyes dark with lust.

Without another word, you flipped her over onto her stomach, her ass in the air, begging for your attention. You smacked her once, watching as the skin turned pink. She moaned into the pillow, her hips moving back, silently asking for more. You didn't disappoint, your hand coming down again and again, leaving a pattern of red across her skin. Each slap echoed through the room, punctuating the sound of your heavy breaths and her whimpers of pleasure.

You felt your own need growing, and you were glad that you had opted to change into her favorite suit with a strap-on surprise. You knew she was close, her body shaking with each smack, and you couldn't wait to watch her greedy pussy swallow your new toy whole. You slid your hand between her legs, finding her wet and ready. You whispered, "You're going to come for me now," and thrust two fingers inside her, curling them in a way that made her scream into the pillow.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around your hand. You didn't stop, though, continuing to fuck her with your fingers until she was begging for mercy. Only when she was trembling did you pull away, standing up to remove your clothes.

When you were naked, you climbed onto the bed, the new dildo standing at attention. "You've had your fun," you said, your voice a low growl. "Now it's my turn." Her eyes widened at the sheer girth of your chosen method of punishment.

"I…I don't think that will fit," she whined, her lust-blown eyes boring straight into yours.

"Oh, it will. You remember your safeword, correct?" you nibbled down her neck as you settled between her legs.

"Yes," she moaned, her back arching against you.

"What is it?"

"Cl…clementine," she stuttered, her body wiggling and writhing beneath you.

You nodded as you slammed into her without preamble, her body accepting you with ease. She screamed your name, her legs tightening around your waist as you began to move. Each thrust was punctuated with a smack to her ass, leaving her skin stinging and her pussy clenching around you. You knew she liked it rough, she was addicted to the pain, but you were going to give her more than she had bargained for tonight.

This was your domain, and she had forgotten her place. You were going to remind her, over and over again, until she was nothing but a quivering mess beneath you. Until she understood that no matter how much she tested you, she would always be yours to command, to punish, to pleasure.

You slammed into her, the sound of your hips slapping against her filling the room. The dildo stretched her to her limits, each inch driving deeper until she was crying out for you to stop. But you didn't. You knew she could take it, knew she craved the pain that came with your passion. The bulge from the tip of the toy poked out her abdomen with every thrust, you pressed down on her stomach where it was appearing, causing her to arch further into your touch.

Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as you picked up the pace. You watched the way her body moved underneath you, the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, and the way her ass cheeks clapped together. You felt yourself getting closer, your strokes becoming more erratic. You reached around, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at you. "Who do you belong to?" you demanded, your voice a low growl.

"You," she whispered, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

"Say it louder," you ordered, giving her another smack on the ass.

"I belong to you!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the moans that had escaped her mouth.

"Beg to cum, amore," you growled in her ear, nibbling down the shell.

"Fuck," she moaned out, her eyes briefly fluttering open before screwing shut again.

"Not until you beg," you reminded her, your voice like a whip crack in the quiet of the room. You could feel your orgasm building, the muscles in your thighs tightening with each powerful thrust. Her cries grew more desperate, her hips moving back to meet yours, pushing herself onto the dildo with a fervor that was almost painful to watch.

"Please," she finally begged, her voice breaking. "I need to come."

You smirked, feeling the power surge through you. "That's all you got, baby?" You taunted, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. "After all that, the teasing, the videos, this is how you show me you miss me? This is how you show me that you need Papi to make you feel good?" She whined and squirmed beneath you, her body shaking with the effort of holding back her climax. "Beg harder," you whispered, leaning down to bite her earlobe.

Her voice grew more frantic. "Ple…please, Papi," she gasped. "I need to come, I need you to make me come."

"You can do better than that," you grabbed ahold of one of her legs, pulling it over your shoulder as you continued the relentless assault on her swollen, leaking pussy. You leaned down, resting your other hand on her throat, gently applying pressure as you picked up your pace. "I said to beg for it, so fucking beg for it," you whispered, your breath hot against her skin.

Her eyes snapped open, the green orbs locking onto yours, filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "Fuck me harder," she pleaded, her voice strained. "Make me cum, Papi."

The sound of her demanding sent you over the edge, and you slammed into her, the erratic thrusts as you came only spurring her pleasure further. You felt her pussy tighten around the dildo, her walls pulsing as she climaxed hard, her body shaking beneath you. You didn't stop until she was limp, her cries of pleasure turning into breathless gasps.

You continued to work the toy into her, slowly building her back up.

"I didn't give you permission, amore mio," you looked down at her, panting as her chest heaved.

"I know," she panted back, "but I had to make sure you knew how much I missed you."

You couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. She knew how much power she held over you, how much she could push you. "You're going to pay for that," you whispered, your voice a dark promise.

Her eyes lit up, and she bit her bottom lip, egging you on. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x female reader

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a-shade-of-blue · 3 months ago

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Masterlist of Fundraisers from the Palestinians who directly contacted me (27-30 September)

30 September

Kholoud Abdalhadi (@kholoudfamily2, @khloodabdul-hadi-blog): Kholoud has a one-year-old daughter named Ayla who has gotten sick due to the bad conditions. Kholoud has lost her older brother in an Israeli airstrike, as well as her beloved grandfather and two of her cousins. Her husband has lost two of his older brothers. They are trying to evacuate to Qatar. (https://gofund.me/7b9894e4) (shared by 90-ghost, vetted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds) (€830 raised of €27,352 goal)

Mahmoud Kullab (@loaykolabloay): Mahmoud is in Belgium rn and is fundraising for his brother’s family in Gaza. His brother has 2 children: Zain and Lana. They are fundraising to rebuild their home which has been destroyed. (https://gofund.me/7e075326) (#106 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€23 raised of €100,000 goal)

Mohammed Hassouna (@mohammedjama77): Mohammed is newly married. His father has been killed in this war. Their house has been completely destroyed. They are now displaced in a tent in Nuseirat. He wishes to evacuate himself and 7 family members out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/1f06c4d5) (#93 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€136 raised of €10,000 goal)

Amina Yasser (@ameenafamily): Amina and her husband Khalil have 3 children: Nasser (8), Baraa (4), and Adam (2). Khalil is a sound engineer but has lost his source of income. Their house has been destroyed and they are now living in a tent. (https://gofund.me/2e63715d) (#19 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€780 raised of €50,000 goal)

Hanan (@hanangaza24, @hanangaza): Hanan has 3 children: Lana (10), Abdul Karim (7), and Adam (2). Their house was bombed with them inside it. Some of them got injured but they survived. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/269b7293) (shared by 90-ghost) ($2,387 USD raised of $100,000 goal)

Linda AbdalHadi (@lendaabdalhadi): Linda is 26 years old and has a degree in law. She worked as an assistant lawyer. She was pregnant with her first child when she was displaced, and due to the horrible conditions she lost her fetus. She also lost her older brother. Their house has been destroyed and she is now living in a tent with her husband.They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/34901cf7) (#85 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€362 raised of €30,000 goal)

29 September

Rania (@saveomarfamily): They are a family of 5 with 3 children: Rania, Misk, and baby Ghazal. Misk has contacted meningitis but there is no medicine for her in Gaza. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/970f189c) (vetted by association. They are relatives of @aya2mohammed (vetted by el-shab-hussein and #166 on the verified fundraiser list vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi)) ($1,670 USD raised of $35,000 target)

Mohammed (@mohmad40, @mohmad2): Mohammed has a toddler son Ahmed. He has lost loved ones and has been arrested and tormented in an Israeli prison for 2 months. His brother has broken his hand and their tent has been flooded with sewage. (https://gofund.me/9184bdf8) (#47 on the @/gazavetters vetted list)

Ghazi Al Amoudi (@ghazialamoudi): Ghazi is 25 years old and from a family of 7. He is an instructional designer. He and his family are now displaced and living in a tent in Deir Al-Balah. (https://gofund.me/4c0c11c3) (#89 on @/gazavetters vetted list!) (€81 raised of €10,000 goal)

Hamza Abu Reesh (@hamza-gaza): Hamza is from a family of 7. HIs parents are elderly and his father suffers from chronic diseases. His little sister is suffering from Mediterranean fever and there are no medicine available. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/abf54bf1) (vetted by @/gazavetters and #91 on their vetted list, also vetted by association through @/ayoosh-gaza (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds)) (€912 raised of €100,000 goal)

28 September

Nisreen Al Sirsik (@lazysweetsheart, @lovelycooltaco): Nisreen has 5 daughters and 3 sons. Their house has been destroyed. (https://gofund.me/b2f8921c) (vetted by @/gazavetters and is #40 (not #41, I checked!) on their vetted list) (€152 raised of €25,000 target)

Ayman Mokdad (@mohamed-meq, @ayman-meq18, @aiyshameqdad): Ayman is a university student. He has 5 sisters and 2 brothers. He and his family are displaced and they are trying to evacuate to Egypt. (https://gofund.me/dfee1247) (#94 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€929 raised of €90,000 target)

Noura Ayman (@nourasissue4, @nourasissue): Noura and her husband Ibrahim worked in a hospital and were studying for a Master’s degree together. They have a baby daughter named Hanan. Her father-in-law has kidney cancer and requires treatment. She is trying to evacuate herself, her husband, theri baby, her parents-in-law, her father and her brothers (Samed (15) and Doaa (18)) out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/dd15ac0f) (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds!) (€476 raised of €50,000 target)

Mariam Mahmoud (@mariam-gaza): Mariam has 2 children: Muhammad and Mahmoud. She is currently pregnant. Her children has contacted hepatitis. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/b2e57341) (vetted by association. Mariam is a sister of @/ayoosh-gaza (vetted and promoted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds)) ($1,129 USD raised of $20,000 goal)

27 September

Sondos Jad Al-Haq (@sondos2200, @sondos220): Sondos is 24 years old and has 2 sons: Ahmed (4), and Saleh (2). Her husband Mohammed has just had an open heart surgery before the war. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/e710175a) (#70 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) ($327 CAD raised of $30 000 target)

Muhammad Al-Sir (@nepalalser, @mohammedalser81): Muhammad has 7 children: Batoul (14), Sydal (13), twins Majd and Jodi (11), Sidra (8), and twins Ahmed and Mahmoud (5). They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/13a3a410) (vetted by @/gazavetters and #66 on the @/gazavetters vetted list) (€1,753 raised of €50 000 target)

Marwa Sobh & Ahmed Sobh (@ahmed-sobeh, @ahmed-sobeh2009): Ahmed is 16 years old and severely autistic. He constantly runs away from his tent and has almost lost his life more than once. His mother Marwa cannot leave Ahmed inside his tent alone with his brother because of this. They are trying to escape out of Gaza so he can get the treatment he needs. (https://www.paypal.com/donate?campaign_id=EJ892Z3JYTPYS) (Vetted by association! This campaign has been promoted by @/nesmamomen (vetted by el-shab-hussein, shared by nabulsi)) (€241 raised of €10,000)

Haitham & Iman (@haithem-2): Iman’s brother Mahmoud was martyred in the 2014 war. Mahmoud’s child Haitham was only 1 year old when his father was killed. Haitham grew up with Iman and her family and is now 12 years old. Iman’s parents suffer from diseases such as high blood pressure and anemia. They are trying to evacuate out of Gaza. (https://gofund.me/29e50d94) (vetted by 90-ghost) (kr9,133 NOK raised of kr200,000 goal)

How are gfm campaigns vetted? See here, here, here and here.

Click here for my Google Doc with my complete masterlist of all the Palestinian gfm asks I've received, updated daily (along with other verified ways to send aid to Gaza).

See post here for other verified ways to send aid to Gaza.

Don't forget your Daily Clicks on Arab.org, it's free!!! and Every click made is registered in their system and generates donation from sponsors/advertisers.

For links to my other Masterlists see below

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 13 - 25 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 26 -29 July.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 30 July - 1 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6 - 10 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11 - 14 August.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15 - 18 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 19 - 21 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundrasiers from 22 - 24 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 25 - 28 August

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 29 August - 1 September

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 2 - 5 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 6-10 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 11-14 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 15-18 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 19-22 September.

Click here for my Masterlist for fundraisers from 23-26 September.

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rainintheevening · 9 months ago

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The day 19-year-old Peter Pevensie ships out for the Mediterranean, lieutenant's commission and a COs commendation in hand, he's all tall, golden boy in British khaki with a soft smile and a merry laugh and oddly old eyes.

His socks are hand-knitted, with his initials PWP worked in around the top. He wears a small golden lion on a leather string around his neck, tucked under his shirt alongside his dogtags.

In his kit bag he carries a Bible, new, brown leather, not too big to be jammed in a pocket. The writing on the first page is tidy, a little squared off, no blots: June 1943, Peter, my brother, my captain, my king. We are all held safe between the paws of the Lion. Ephesians 6:10-18.

Tucked in beside that is a small, chunky book of Spurgeon's sermons, with Prof. Digory Kirke in the corner of the flyleaf, and a loose-leaf of paper that Peter uses for a bookmark, precious though it is, covered in his father's barely legible scratch.

There's a hand-bound book of poems, copied by Lucy and collected with several of Susan's watercolours, all trees like old friends and flowers like stars and rolling English hills. It will take months for those pages to stop smelling like home.

Next to that is tucked a sturdy little journal, pencil attached and fat with empty cream-coloured pages. It will take only a week for it to lose its clean smell, and the many words scribbled there will make it fatter still.

Three others are piled in around those—a beat-up hardback novel stripped of its dust jacket and stamped as White Fang, a bright new George MacDonald novel with Be brave, my son, and may the adventure always bring you safely home. Mother penned inside, and another naked hardback identified along its spine as The Aeneid.

Some eyebrows get raised at the extra weight of that library, but Peter is charming and humble, and he'll be the only one to suffer from it anyway.

A little more than two years later Peter Pevensie will return with a captain’s epaulets on his shoulders, and the same soft smile on a leaner, browner face.

He will be wearing an entirely different pair of socks, but still ones that have PWP worked into the stripes along the top.

The leather string will be gone, and so will the little gold lion, folded into a shaking hand, given with a murmured prayer and a kiss pressed to salty fevered forehead, somewhere on the side of an Italian mountain.

The books will be nearly all there. The Bible, wrinkled with water damage, fingerprinted with little dark smears, it's cover scored with a smokey black streak. The poetry, cared for so carefully; the sermons, well earmarked and notated; the MacDonald novel now sans dust jacket, spine cracked, and with grit worked into its creases.

The Aeneid will still be there, though greatly altered thanks to the bullet buried in the upper half of it.

White Fang will be missing, left in the hands of a wildly curious, dream-eyed Arab boy, who will pick up English like a starving man picks up food, and will cry when the Fighting Fifth gets shipped back to Italy. There will be a black and white photograph tucked into its pages— four soldiers surrounding a tall, fair-haired one with a thin dark-headed boy standing high atop his shoulders, arms raised as if he would fall forward into flight, all smiling.

Peter will carry the journal home in his pocket, all muddy and smoky, all smeared with pencil lead and sweat, bloody fingerprints on a few pages, heavy with a thousand and one thoughts, the unburdening of his heart, all ready to be placed in his brother’s hands.

Peter Pevensie will return like his books, with dirt in the creases, a little worn, a little tattered, a little scarred. But his wise old (kingly) eyes... they shine the same way when he smiles, sun in his golden hair.

#peter pevensie #ww2 #books #narnia fanfiction #my writing #i have been working this one out in my head for a few days now. finally got it to work.#also i LOVE researching ww2 #narnia #oh and i gave him the middle name william

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bestanimal · 2 months ago

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Round 2 - Arthropoda - Chilopoda

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Chilopoda is a class of arthropods commonly called “Centipedes”. They include the Scutigeromorphs (“House Centipedes”), Lithobiomorphs (“Stone Centipedes”), Scolopendromorphs (“Tropical Centipedes”), Geophilomorphs (“Soil Centipedes”), and the Craterostigmomorphs which consists of only two living species.

Centipede means “hundred feet”, though no species of centipede actually has exactly 100 feet, as their pairs of legs are always an odd number, ranging from 15 to 191 pairs of legs! All centipedes are venomous predators, delivering venom through a pair of fang-like front legs called forcipules. Prey include other invertebrates like earthworms, fly larvae, collembolans, and other centipedes. The giant Scolopendromorphs are able to tackle larger prey including vertebrates such as lizards, frogs, birds, mice, snakes, and even bats. They live in tropical or desert habitats worldwide, but only in moist environments, meaning they must be more active under cover or at night. Many species lack eyes, though some have simple eyes that allow them to distinguish light from dark. Some species use their first pair of legs similarly to antennae, sensing vibrations and even using them to “hear.” Their bodies consist of 15 or more segments, with one pair of legs attached to the sides of each segment. Their back legs, called “ultimate legs”, are modified depending on species, and can be elongated and thin, thickened, or pincer-like. They are not used for walking, but instead can be used in defensive displays, for hunting, or for interspecies fighting, and they often play a role in mating rituals and are usually sexually dimorphic. Centipedes range from a few millimetres to 30 cm (1 foot) long.

Centipedes are generally solitary, not even meeting up to mate. Males will leave spermatophores on the ground for females to pick up. However, females provide parental care, coiling around both their eggs and young and grooming them (first image). Some species grow anamorphically: adding on segments with each moult until they reach their adult number of segments. Some species grow epimorphically: growing all their segments and legs as an embryo before hatching, and not adding on any more when they moult.

Centipedes arose during the Late Silurian, but were considerably rare until the Triassic Period. The modern Scolopendromorphs and Scutigeromorphs appeared in the Cretaceous.

Propaganda under the cut:

In my desire to show just how colorful and beautiful centipedes could be, my first rendition of this post featured 3 Scolopendromorphs and 1 House Centipede. I then realized how unfair that was and changed it to include most of the major types of centipede, which reduced a lot of the color of this post unfortunately. I believe the centipedes I’ve chosen are still beautiful regardless, but if you want to see some pretty colorful centipedes, check out the rest of Scolopendromorpha!

Similarly to spiders, while all centipedes are venomous, none are particularly deadly to humans. Most small centipedes’ jaws are too small to break human skin, but large tropical centipedes’ bites can be quite painful: causing swelling, chills, fever, and weakness, especially in children and those allergic to bee stings. These bites are always in defense, so if you leave them alone, they have no reason to bite.

Some large centipedes are consumed in China, usually skewered and grilled or deep fried. Thailand produces centipede vodka: large centipedes steeped in alcohol.

The common house centipede (Scutigera coleoptrata) originated in caves in the Mediterranean, but has evolved alongside us to live inside human homes. The dark and humid corners of buildings are literally their habitat! They are beneficial predators, feeding on many species humans consider pests such as cockroaches, termites, ants, bed bugs, spiders, and silverfish.

Centipedes have long lifespans for arthropods, some living up to 10 years.

They are friends! Or maybe… lovers?

#ngl I LOVE house centipedes #i keep them in my house and they have the cutest tiniest babies and if you pick up the big adults and they realize you’re not gonna hurt #them they stop freaking out and go a lot slower and just like inspect your hand so softly and carefully #they are just panicky little eyelashes that eat bedbugs #they are friends and lovers #mad respect to people that keep the giant tropical venomous centipedes as pets though #round 2 #animal polls #arthropoda

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look-at-the-soul · 11 months ago

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Because of you

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)

Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨

A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch

Word count: 2,308

“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”

She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.

“Are you home yet?” She asked.

“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.

“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.

Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.

Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.

“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.

“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.

“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”

Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.

“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.

“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.

“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”

As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.

She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.

“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”

His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”

“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.

“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.

Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.

“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.

“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.

“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.

“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”

Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”

“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”

“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.

“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.

Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.

He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.

And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.

“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”

He spied on the slices with several options.

“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.

“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”

“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.

A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.

“What is it?”

“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.

Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.

“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.

And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.

“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”

By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.

“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.

“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”

“Yay!”

“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.

“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.

She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.

“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”

Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.

“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”

“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”

“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”

Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.

“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”

He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.

He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.

“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.

“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.

“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”

“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”

“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.

But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.

As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.

Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.

But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.

The sight of him was mouthwatering.

And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.

“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”

He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.

“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.

“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.

As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.

Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.

“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.

“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.

Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.

“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”

After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.

“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.

Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.

“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.

“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.

Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.

“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”

Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”

After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”

“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.

“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.

“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.

“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.

“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.

“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”

“What?” Y/N was in shock.

“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.

“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.

“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.

“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“With a garden.” He encouraged.

“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.

“I want a doll house!”

“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”

As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.

“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.

And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.

****

I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx

Tacos recipe

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #modern tommy shelby imagine #modern tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #modern peaky blinders #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine

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s-aint-elmo · 3 months ago

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i've gotten several messages from palestinians asking for help boosting their fundraisers, so i thought i'd put a post together for them. their gofundmes are linked through their names.

eyad sami (@eyadeyadsblog) who has been separated from his wife and children. vetted by @/90-ghost and @/northgazaupdates

mohammed al-habil (@aya2mohammed) who is caring for his young children and elderly parents. vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi here

samer abu ras (@samerpal) who is caring for three children, with the eldest suffering from heart problems. vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi here

hamza abu reesh (@hamza-gaza) who is caring for his elderly parents and siblings, with his younger sister suffering from mediterranean fever. vetted by @/gazavetters here

youseff al-habeel (@youseffamily) whose young son is suffering from a chest infection and a respiratory illness. vetted by @/90-ghost and the butterflyeffect project

#palestine #gaza #mutual aid #fundraiser #gofundme

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maysasalman · 2 months ago

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Hello👋

I am Maysaa Aldahdooh from Gaza.

My family and I face death, hunger, and diseases every day. We are a Palestinian family in desperate need of help from anyone with a conscience, a compassionate heart, and a sense of humanity.

Help us overcome these hardships

I am reaching out to you today, standing firm as I face unbelievable challenges. Life in our area has become increasingly difficult due to the ongoing and escalating conflict, and I am struggling to secure the basic necessities for myself and my family.

About me and my family:

I am 38 years old, married to Hossam Al-Dahdoh, and we have five children: Jamal, 16 years old; Mohammed, 14 years old, who suffers from a chronic disease called Mediterranean fever and must take lifelong medication; Layan, 10 years old; Amir, 8 years old; and Zina, 4 years old.

We have faced death dozens of times. Our home was completely destroyed and burned, making it uninhabitable. We have been displaced more than 20 times, and we narrowly escaped certain death on several occasions. We have lost over 100 relatives, neighbors, and loved ones. The area where I live is constantly under attack with rockets, shelling, and gunfire. We struggle to find healthy food, clean drinking water, and my son Mohammed cannot access the medicine he needs. My children can no longer attend school. For these reasons, my family and I have decided to leave Gaza in order to protect the lives of my children from death, hunger, disease, and the effects of war, food shortages, lack of medicine, polluted water, and the destruction of educational institutions

How you can help us:

• By making a financial donation, even if it’s a small amount. • By sharing our story on social media. • By offering words of support and encouragement.

The funds we raise will be used for:

• Helping us with the costs of leaving Gaza and seeking refuge in a country that respects human rights, such as Canada, Belgium, or Sweden. The costs of leaving are high, with each family member needing $5,000 to leave. Since we will be starting our life from scratch outside Gaza, we will also need housing, electrical appliances, cooking utensils, education expenses, medicine, and health and psychological rehabilitation.

Every contribution, no matter how small, is important.

There is no donation too small. Every donation brings us one step closer to relief and a better future. Even if you are unable to contribute financially, sharing this campaign with your network can make a huge difference.

Thank you and gratitude:

Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for your kind generosity. You can help us get through these difficult times.

Maysaa AlDahdoouh

#free palestine #free gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #gaza #save palestine #palestinian genocide #i stand with palestine #all eyes on palestine #save gaza #all eyes on rafah

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evita-shelby · 24 days ago

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12 Days of Smuffmas:

December 17th - tinsel and talking dirty(Bucky Egan x Diane Shelby)

part of the Paper Moons series

cw: dirty talk, dominant!Bucky, mentions of nightmares, sex as coping mechanism, reference to ye olde vibrators and dildos, couch sex, mentions of baby fever

He used to try and dream what his life after the war would look like, what a life with Diane would look like.

Sometimes they’d stay in England in that beautiful townhouse in London with him doing fuck knows what and mooching off her parents. They’d live lavishly, without a care in the world and forget the hell they’d lived in during the war.

His Lady Di had lost her little brother during the blitz, a boyfriend in the Mediterranean and enough friends to remind him some German girl had lost the same thanks to him.

He’d wake up from nightmares where Di’s buried in the rubble, tortured by Nazis for the crime of being of two races or just gone. Bucky still gets them, along with the ones of what happened to him and the others in the war.

Struggles to sleep so much he dozed off in the couch this afternoon when they were supposed to start decorating for their first Christmas together in this quaint house in a well-off neighborhood where her folks are to visit.

“Did you sleep well, sleeping beauty?” Di asks carefully placing the tinsel that’s gotten everywhere except the fucking tree since they got it.

“Like a baby.” John stretches and stays where he is as he watches his tiny wife balance on a step stool decorating the tree exactly how she envisioned it in that strange mind of hers.

Her hair is shorter, just over her shoulders and bouncing as she turned her attention to him and then back to the tree. Knows when he’s lying with just one look, but his answer doesn’t ring off any alarm bells and she resumed her work in artfully placing the fucking tinsel on the pine tree they picked out yesterday.

“Would you help me get the tree ready?” she asks but he shook his head preferring to watch her do her work unimpeded. Reminded him the Diane in his nightmare last night was just a figment of his fucked-up imagination.

This Diane hadn’t been killed by a bomb while he was away, this Diane hadn’t been put where all the dead go and left only the necklace he brought her back from Algeria. No, this Diane was alive, in one piece and wearing the necklace that matched her wedding ring.

“Like the view too much to change it.” Bucky has another way of reminding himself the dreams aren’t real, but he thinks it would be good to wait until she’s done. Once he tried to interrupt her doing inventory at the base to fuck her between missions and his Lady Di was cross enough with him to leave him hot and bothered before his mission.

Flew back to base in record time just to get his revenge on his English Witch. They’d done it like beasts, on the cold grass, against their tree and even on his bed before the rest of the officers returned to their quarters.

They fucked on Buck’s bed, almost as if foretelling he’d become more than their cherished friend.

“What are you thinking, Bucky?” the witch knows exactly what he’s thinking, can tell when he’s having filthy thoughts about her even when they’re not even in the same country.

He used to get letters mentioning how his dirty fantasies would reach her in England and how she’d fuck herself with the fake cock wishing it was him fucking her blind.

“About that toy of yours you used to love so much.” Bucky’s gotten her a better toy to replace it having lost it in the move here.

The blue-eyed man remembers that toy too fondly, remembers how fucked out she was that she agreed to invite Buck for his special birthday fuck. “And how I got that fancy oil just for my Lady Di, ‘cause her first ass fuck needed to be done properly.”

She gets flustered when he talks dirty to her, so flustered she gives up whatever she is doing so Bucky can make those words real. “Then why haven’t you used the one we got a couple of days ago, love? Good fucking keeps your nightmares away, you know.”

“It’s a surprise, princess. If you’re naughty, it’s gonna stay unopened for much, much longer.” He threatens playfully knowing the moment the door’s shut behind their families the mystery gift will be unwrapped and used with great appreciation.

An improvement to the fake cock, this one vibrates for better…massaging. The department store lady had gone beet red when a far too cheeky John Egan had pointed at it and asked how much it cost.

“A shame, maybe I want to be bad.” His English girl teases and bends over to pick up some of the tinsel on the tree skirt.

If Di didn’t want to be fucked in the tinsel covered living room maybe she wouldn’t have worn that short blue dress knowing it would give him a fantastic view.

“Panties off, Di, if you want to be bad at least give your hard working husband a good view of the pussy he killed Nazis for.” The newly minted Lieutenant Colonel orders knowing its exactly what she wants.

She wants a baby, seen it in the cards they’ll have one next year and the disappointment of the all-night birthday sex not resulting in a pregnancy to announce at Christmas had her ravenous. Bucky’s surprised he had a nightmare last night when they’ve been at it like rabbits.

Not that he minds, John Egan has yet to get tired of fucking his girl. He doubts he ever will, he thinks as his wife removed her flimsy and lacy panties before tossing them to him.

“Anything else, Bucky?” the witch asks loving this game they play.

“Not yet, though I bet I can get you to leave the tree and climb me instead.” He fucking loves this game too.

John talks dirty, Diane tries to finish whatever she’s doing and then they see how far she gets before she’s too aroused to think of anything but wanting to jump his bones. First time they played he’d gotten injured enough to need Nurse Shelby’s tender loving care and been rewarded with a frantic fuck in a supply closet.

“Can even keep the dress on if you like, looked good when Buck and I fingered you on the cab ride to the train and looks good on you know.” The memory of that day the left the base will stay with him forever as will the way he gets hard when she wears it.

Couldn’t get through a church service once because he wanted to get her to take the Lord in vain as she bounced on his dick in the car with some bullshit excuse no one bought.

“You tasted so good on Buck’s fingers, almost as good as your pussy tastes in his mouth.” John goes on as his Lady Di bites her lip and nearly drops the piece of tinsel in her hands. He’d help her decorate the rest of the tree, once she gives up or finishes putting all the tinsel she claims the fucking tree needs. “I'm gonna fuck him hard as he eats your pussy on the dining room table, maybe Marge will come too, and you show her why we love your mouth so much. Wouldn’t that be fun? Show her nothing’s wrong with the way we love.”

“Shame I lost the fake cock on the move here, I could have fucked her that way too. Like we did with that performer we both wanted so badly.” Lady Di reminds him of that singer with the big tits who entertained the troops one night and got fucked hard by Di’s toy while she tit-fucked Bucky in her dressing room. The Performer had left England with a very fond memory of Lady Di and Major Egan.

“We could always find you another one. A better one, if you stop ignoring your husband and be a good little wife to him.” How she hasn’t figured out he got her a vibrating fake cock is beyond him; he never gets anything past the witch.

“I’m always a good wife to you, love.” Di laughs and yet leaves the tree alone to come and climb onto his lap. She kisses him sweetly and holds onto him as he sat up getting comfortable for something much better than decorating a Christmas tree.

“Especially when your wet and ready to go for daddy.” Bucky let her free his little soldier from his pants as he undid the fastenings of her dress. He’d said the dress would stay on, just not how.

His English girl takes him all in and takes his hand to the slight bulge his cock gives her while they fuck hard and loudly not giving a shit the neighbors can hear them fucking. “How couldn’t I be when I hear your filthy thoughts as clearly as if you say them?”

Mind-reader, too.

“Suppose I gotta make those words a reality, can’t have you thinking your man is all talk, Lady Di, can’t I?” John’s grip on her hips grows tight as he thrusts up to meet her hips and goes as deep as his princess can handle. They’re good together, like a good duet making sweet music even if Buck’s not often here to make it a trio.

There’s tinsel on the fucking couch, but it doesn’t matter when Di locks her tan legs behind his waist until they both come hard and fast while everyone else goes on about their afternoon outside. Bucky stays inside her, content to be buried in her cunt and home where the war never touched a damn thing. They used to fuck to the sound of bombs near and far, to the sirens of ambulances seeking out the injured and planes coming and going.

He used to talk dirty to her while taking shelter from the air raids, as she checked him for injuries and patched him up if need be. Now he tells her filthy things in peace and quiet where there’s nothing actively trying to kill them.

John Clarance Egan has no fucking clue what he did to get a woman like her. “Don’t fucking know how I got you to notice me when you had your pick of the litter?”

“You talked dirty and fucked me blind against a tree, remember?” Her words are just as breathless as his and kissed him harshly like her life depended on him.

#diane shelby #bucky egan #bucky egan x oc #mota smut #mota fic #12 days of smuffmas #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #bucky x diane

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covid-safer-hotties · 29 days ago

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Also preserved in our archive

By Linda Geddes

Cases of the KP.3.1.1. and XEC variants of COVID-19 are rising in many countries, but there are ways to avoid catching them.

With the holiday season approaching, and COVID-19 and other winter viruses on the rise in many countries, guarding against infection and avoiding putting extra pressure on health systems are as important as ever.

Although the latest SARS-CoV-2 variants don't appear to be making people sicker than earlier variants, people are still dying of COVID-19. The risk of Long COVID also continues, with at least 6% of those who catch symptomatic COVID-19 affected by persistent fatigue, cognitive and respiratory symptoms, according to the latest situation report by the World Health Organization.

Studies have suggested that the health damage caused by COVID-19 may be cumulative, meaning it is worth trying to avoid infection as much as possible. The virus continues to evolve, with the latest variants seemingly even more transmissible than the ones before them. So, how can you and your loved ones avoid catching COVID-19 this Christmas season?

Which COVID-19 variants are circulating in late 2024? Globally, the most prevalent variant in the month leading up to 6 December 2024 was the KP.3.1.1 variant, followed by the XEC variant. These accounted for 54% and 25% of cases, respectively. However, there are significant regional differences, with the LB.1 variant accounting for most cases in Africa, and the JN.1 accounting for almost all cases in the Eastern Mediterranean and South-East Asia regions.

Three of these variants have been designated 'Variants Under Monitoring' by the World Health Organization (WHO), signalling they may require prioritised attention and monitoring by health authorities. Meanwhile, the JN.1 variant, which has been circulating since August 2023, is designated a 'variant of interest' – one with changes that are known to affect how the virus behaves or its potential impact on human health.

All are sub-variants of the Omicron variant of SARS-CoV-2, which first emerged in November 2021.They're also closely related to JN.1 and KP.2 – earlier Omicron sub-variants targeted by the latest COVID-19 vaccines – meaning people who are eligible to receive a COVID-19 booster should be well-protected against severe disease in the coming months.

What are the symptoms? There is currently no evidence that XEC or any of the other currently circulating variants are making people sicker than earlier subvariants of Omicron. However, deaths do still occur and studies have suggested that the health damage caused by COVID-19 may be cumulative, meaning it is worth trying to avoid infection as much as possible.

The symptoms of currently circulating variants are considered similar to those of earlier Omicron sub-variants – chiefly a high temperature (fever), body aches, tiredness and a cough or sore throat. Since such symptoms are also frequently associated with influenza, it can be difficult to know which illness you have without taking a test.

The good news is that existing COVID-19 tests are still effective against these latest variants. However, a faint or absent line on a rapid antigen test (also known as a lateral flow test) should not be interpreted as proof you don't have COVID-19, because relatively large amounts of virus need to be present for the antibodies in these tests to react to the viral proteins, and viral load can increase rapidly – particularly at the start of an infection.

Also, since both COVID-19 and flu can cause severe illness and death – particularly in vulnerable individuals such as older people and those with weakened immune systems or other underlying medical conditions – it is important to avoid transmitting either infection. This means taking steps to protect those around you if your symptoms suggest you might have either virus.

How infectious are current variants? According to research published in The Lancet, the latest Omicron sub-variants are likely to be more infectious than their predecessors. When Kei Sato at the University of Tokyo and colleagues assessed the ability of XEC and KP.3.1.1 to infect cells and evade antibodies from people who had recovered from previous Omicron sub-variants, they found that XEC had a reproduction number – referring to how many people are expected to be infected by a single individual – that was 13% higher than KP.3.11, which was itself more infectious than the KP.3 sub-variant that has been circulating since February 2024, and currently accounts for around 5% of cases worldwide.

Ventilation is important to remove older stale air that contains virus particles and replace it with fresh air. Particularly in well-insulated modern homes, a single open window may not be enough. You can create a better airflow by opening internal doors and keeping a window at the top and bottom of the house Both XEC and KP.3.1.1 also exhibited greater levels of evasion to antibodies from earlier Omicron infections, compared to KP.3. Taken together, these results suggest that the latest sub-variants are extremely easy to catch and pass on, and that recent infection is no guarantee against reinfection.

How can I avoid infection? COVID-19 mainly spreads between people who are in close contact with one another, for instance, people speaking at a conversational distance, through the inhalation of virus particles. The virus can also remain suspended in the air and travel further distances in poorly ventilated or crowded indoor spaces where people spend longer amounts of time. In both situations, wearing a good quality, well-fitting mask – ideally an FFP2 or N95 mask – will reduce your risk of catching or passing on either COVID-19 or influenza.

People may also become infected with COVID-19 or influenza after touching surfaces or objects that have been contaminated with viruses, and then touching their eyes, nose or mouth. Avoiding touching things that other people have touched can reduce the risk of transmission, as can frequently washing hands or using hand sanitiser.

#mask up #public health #wear a mask #pandemic #wear a respirator #still coviding #covid #covid 19 #coronavirus #sars cov 2

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