#the ottoman responds

[the-ottoman-empire-for-real]

Austrian-Hungarian Empire kisser 🫵

WHAT!?!?

WHERE DID THIS COME FROM!?!?

[kyliaquilor]

I've seen weird takes on history, but I have to say, the idea that the late Ottoman Empire/Early Turkey, beats out Nazi Germany for 'evilness' is... definitely a new one.

Like, Armenian genocide bad, yes, but the Body Count and everything else of Nazi germany beats them out?

[waugh-bao]

*

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Bucking Bronco✨

@bat-boness keeps fucking cooking with their Cowboy Lucifer art and I shall do the same!!! @nayomi247 and @liveontelevision this is your fault too lol, we have now formed a small but mighty Cowboy Lucifer cult fan club

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer finds himself in a punishing situation…

Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving), p in v

“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you would come in from the farm on time, Luci,” you scolded as you finished tying the last knot on his wrists. "I don't think I ask for much."

This was the third night in a row your hardworking husband has missed dinner with you. You let it slide the first night. The second night you gave him a gentle reminder to not overwork himself. But tonight was the last straw. A third night of eating alone with a cold plate of food sitting across the table from you. You loved him dearly, but you hated that his priorities didn’t seem to be in order. You were going to make sure he learned his lesson one way or another. He tried to butter you up as he usually did when he came in from work late, knowing full well what he'd done. You feigned a smile and told him not to give it another thought. You told him to get comfortable and that you would join him upstairs soon. But when you walked into your room with your rope in hand, he gulped. He knew damn well that he was in trouble. You sat him down on the ottoman and wrapped your ropes around his hands and wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, effectively rendering him helpless against your ‘punishment’.

“Darlin’, I-I’m sorry, time just gets away from me sometimes! I-I would never do anything to upset you,” Lucifer stuttered. “P-Please, have mercy…”

You checked the tightness of your ropes before standing in front of your husband, towering over him in his subdued state. “Oh, I’m not upset with you! But since you’ve just been working so hard lately, I thought it’d be mighty kind of me if I helped you relax.” You brought your hand to his chin and had him meet your intense gaze. “Do you want me to help you relax, sweetheart?” you asked, knowing all too well that there was only one answer he could give you.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer responded meekly.

"That's my good boy," you praised, a small whimper escaping Lucifer's throat. You slowly dragged your hand down his open-shirt chest, stopping right above his already very apparent erection. He did his best to buck his hips up in an attempt to create any sort of friction. But all this did was cause you to pull you hand away from him immediately. He whined pathetically. "Behave now," you reprimanded. Lucifer looked up at you with glassy eyes and nodded obediently. You smiled and brought your hand back down to its previous spot, hovering just about his hard-on. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as you finally placed your palm over his cock that has been painfully straining against his jeans. It took every ounce of willpower in him to remain still while you toyed with him.

"P-Please," Lucifer mewled, "I-I can't...hng..."

You pulled down the zipper to his pants lethargically, watching Lucifer's chest rise and fall more and more rapidly until you finally released his already leaking cock from its confines. "I love how needy you are for me, sweet pea." You gripped his length in your hand and started stroking him meticulously. Lucifer's whines filled the room, you've never heard sweeter sounds than his desperate cries. His precum leaked onto your hand, your jerking motions becoming smoother. You circled your thumb over the head of his cock, applying the lightest of pressure to it. Lucifer cried out as he bucked his hips once more from your teasing. You let go of him again, tears now welling up in his eyes from the loss of your touch.

"I'm sorry!" Lucifer nearly shouted. "D-Don't stop, please...I'll behave, I-I promise!"

"That's strike two, Luci," you warned. "You wouldn't want me to leave you like this, would you now?"

"N-No! Please...", a single tear rolled down his face. You smiled gently and wiped it from his cheek.

"Shh, it's alright," you cooed, "patience, my love. I'll take care of you."

He took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down. He knew deep down you wouldn't leave him in such a desperate and vulnerable state. You knelt down on the ground, gripping his shaft once more. You stuck out your tongue and licked up the length of his cock, tasting all the precum that had spilled out of him. Lucifer's voice caught in his throat; he was beyond forming any coherent sentences at this point. He struggled against his binds, losing grip of his control fast. Your tongue circled his swollen tip, eliciting the smallest yelps from your lover, your hot breath driving him insane. You enveloped him suddenly, bobbing your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was frozen, he dared not move again in fear of the repercussions. Instead, he was loud, moaning and whining from everything you were giving him in this moment. You let him go with a satisfying pop, flashing a mischievous grin.

"Tell me what you want, sugar," you teased him as your hand replaced your warm mouth. "Use your words."

Lucifer's hat had fallen in front of his face, you could no longer see his eyes. You lifted it up only to see them glowing a bright crimson red, his hunger for you now abundantly evident. "N-Need you," he choked out, "need to feel you, n-now. Please...ride me..."

You smirked at him and nodded. You stood up once more, removing your belt in one swift motion and tossing your shorts off so the side, your soaking pussy now in full view. Lucifer gulped audibly. You straddled yourself against Lucifer's hips, teasing his cock with your dripping folds. You decided to wear his hat on your head instead so that you could clearly see the disheveled mess of a man beneath you. He blushed hard at the sight. You leaned down and planted the tiniest peck to his forehead.

"Now, are you going to be late again?" you questioned playfully.

"N-No," Lucifer promised. "I'll come in from the farm on time, I-I swear! You'll never w-wait for me again!"

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear." You lined yourself up and slowly lowered yourself onto him, taking him an inch at a time. He was thicker than most, so he knew you needed just a little bit longer to adjust to his abnormal size. Not that you minded in the slightest, he was able to hit all of the right spots without even moving. Once you bottomed out on his cock, you both let out a wanton moan. After a few seconds of letting yourself stretch around him, you began to shift your hips. Your sudden movements forced Lucifer to lean against the crook of your neck for support. He felt as though you were trying to milk him dry. Which is exactly what you were doing.

"F-Fuck, Lucifer," you stuttered, "always making me f-feel so good, baby. Look s-so pretty under me..." Lucifer could barely hear your praises over his own sounds. This was pure bliss, but agonizingly torturous at the same time. His bound hands were eager to touch you, to hold you, to feel you.

"My love, please, I-I'm begging, let me go..." he cried into your shoulder. "I'm so so sorry, I-I...please..." You stopped your movement completely and started gently petting the back of his head. How could you deny him any longer?

You reached down and grabbed the sheathed blade that adorned his hip. "Stay perfectly still," you commanded, reaching around and carefully slicing the ties around his arms and wrists, letting the rope fall to the floor. You tossed the knife far away from you while Lucifer's hand immediately gripped your hips.

"T-Thank you, darlin'," he whispered against you, "let me make it up to you now. S-Show you how sorry I really am." Without warning, Lucifer lifted you up only for him to slam you right back down on his throbbing cock. The cry you let out was lustful and wanting. His hips bucked up into you at a relentless pace, your cunt clenching around him desperately while you both chased your highs. You dug your nails into his shoulders for support as he pounded into you over and over. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach growing larger, threatening to snap any given second as your lover pushed you to your breaking point with each thrust.

"L-Luci," you whimpered helplessly, "I'm close, s-so close, mmph, fffffuuu-uuuccck..." Your pleas only seemed to drive him even madder than he already was as one of his hands left your hips, his thumb finding that small sensitive bundle of nerves. You nearly screamed from the new sensation.

"Me too, sweetheart, m-me too, shit,' Lucifer breathed. "Cum f' me, l-let me feel you cum around me..."

With those words, stars clouded your vision. You felt your cunt pulsate around Lucifer's cock, tightening and squeezing him without abandon, your juices leaking onto his lap. Your orgasm pushed your lover over the edge as well, his grunts and whimpers echoing throughout the room as he filled you up to the brim with his hot seed, having to bite down your shoulder as to not lose himself in the pleasure. As you both started to recover from your highs, you cupped Lucifer's face in your hands and brought him in for a deep kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance, still trying to catch your breath in the process. You pulled away from him, his half-lidded eyes gazing up at your adoringly.

"You owe me a new rope," you chastised lovingly.

~~~

I have no real excuse for this :3

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

More CEORRY smut pls! He’s so HAWT🥵🥵

Got Me Right Where You Want Me*

warnings: smut, swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding, exhibitionism

summary: YN and Harry spend a day on the golf course together, but she won’t make it easy for him

pairing: ceo harry x reader

wc: 5.4k

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests open

a/n: i’ve decided i’m gonna try and post a oneshot every friday (key word is TRY😭) and i’ll probably do blurbs in between

~

Fresh out of the shower with wet hair and a towel around his waist, Harry steps into his and YN’s shared bedroom, humming the tune of the song he’d been listening to. His eyes instantly travel to his wife, who is freshly showered as well, still sitting in the exact same spot she was in when he went to shower. He rolls his eyes fondly as he watched her scroll through her emails with just a towel around her, the cutest look of concentration adorning her face.

Making his way to her, he sits down next to her, and she looks up at him with a soft smile. Returning her smile, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly. She melts into him and frowns when they pull away, making him chuckle at her.

“Do you want to come with me to the course today?” he questions, standing from the bed and heading to the closet. YN is slightly confused, as he’s never asked her to accompany him before.

“I mean, of course, but what’s the occasion?“ she asks, standing up as well and heading to her side of the closet. Her eyes skim over her clothes as she awaits his answer, a sigh leaving her when she realizes she’d left her white tennis skirt at their London home the last time they visited.

“Just miss you,” he responds, sitting down on his ottoman to pull his shirt over his head. “Been busy all week and we haven’t really had any time together,” he finishes timidly, making YN laugh quietly at him.

Walking over to him, she leans over him and places her hands on his chest. “We’ve been together for ten years and you’re still afraid to admit you love me?” she questions. “I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me or something,” she teases, heading back to her space to find an outfit.

Harry tuts at her, a frown tugging at his lips. “Oh, shut the fuck up. You know m’not ashamed of you. Never have been, never could be,” he retorts, pulling his pants up before sliding his feet into his shoes.

She laughs heartily at her husband, sitting down to start moisturizing her skin. “Yeah, I bet you can’t be. Especially not when you cried like a baby at our wedding in front of all your tough guy friends,” she teases, making him scoff in mock offence.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he laughs, pushing her shoulder playfully before standing up to loop his belt into his pants. “I still think you’re the one who leaked those pictures,” he mutters, making her double over in laughter at the memory behind the accusation.

He makes his way from the closet with a dimpled grin on his face, headed to the garage to get his clubs. “I’m ready whenever you are, gonna be in the Range Rover,” he calls, and she nods in agreement although he can’t see her.

Standing back up, she skims her closet once more, dragging her finger along each item of clothing as she tries to decide what to wear. She knows it’s nearly 100°F in LA, so she needs something that’ll keep her cool.

Her eyes land on a purple, thin, tennis dress, and her face lights up as it’s absolutely perfect. It matches Harry’s shirt almost perfectly, and it’s thin enough to keep her cool out in the summer heat.

Taking it off the hanger, she smiles as she notices just how short it is, and knowing that it will be even shorter once it’s on her body. She slides on a decides against a bra, knowing it’ll be uncomfortable in the material and she can use it to her advantage anyways.

She immediately slips the dress over her head before deciding on some plain white sneakers and putting on some jewelry and perfume before heading out of the closet and down to the car where Harry is waiting for her.

In no rush at all, she takes her time and makes her way down to the garage, anticipating Harry’s reaction. She closes the door behind her and slips into the car without a word, buckling her seatbelt.

Harry’s eyes are practically burning her skin with how hard he’s staring, and she doesn’t even have to look at him to know that his eyes are bulging out of his head.

Turning to look at him, she puts on a look of faux confusion as she eyes him. “Are you okay?” she questions innocently, placing her arm on his bicep.

Her touch seems to snap him out of the trance, and he clears his throat with a small nod before pulling out of the garage and heading down the road. A small smirk plays on YN’s lips as they make the drive there, loving how fidgety Harry is beside her. She can clearly see his jaw clench every time he spares her a glance before swallowing thickly, his Adam’s Apple straining against the skin of his throat.

When the two are sat at a red light, YN decides to take it a step further. Reaching over, she places a hand on his thigh and feels the thick muscle twitch beneath her palm. Harry glares at her for a split second before the light turns green, his eyes snapping back to the road ahead.

A sigh of relief passes through his lips when he sees the familiar greenery of their country club’s golf course, ready to get out of the car that’s so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. He practically speeds into his reserved parking spot, throwing the car in park and leaning back to rest against the seat.

Still smirking, YN moves her hand from his thigh to the very prominent bulge in his slacks, grazing it gently. She’s filled with satisfaction when he inhales sharply and cuts his eyes to hers in anger.

Before he can retaliate, she’s slipping out of the car quickly, and he’s not even a little bit surprised when she ‘drops’ her visor on the ground outside the car only to bend down to pick it up.

His eyes are bulging out of his head once again as he has a full view of her barely covered ass, making him stifle a groan. He can’t even form any words to speak, not that he’d get a word in anyways as she closes the door and heads into the building, a smug smile on her face.

In the car, Harry’s mouth is agape as he recalls each event he’s gone through since he stepped out of his shower, palming his cock as he realizes her game. He’s so hard it hurts, but he tries his best to will the boner away, all while coming up with a plan to even the score.

~

Rolling her eyes in frustration, YN flips Harry the middle finger as he turns to look at her, a dimpled smile on his face. Sweat is glistening on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face in the humid LA heat, and YN is damn near dripping down her thighs as she watches him play.

Ever since Harry set foot into the country club with a dimpled grin on his face, YN knew she’d fucked up by teasing him the way she did. No matter how nervous she gets, though, she refuses to show it.

With each precise swing of his favourite club, Harry makes sure to flex his muscles extra hard, and groans extra loud when the ball doesn’t go as far as he’d like.

After each of these, he cuts his eyes to his wife who is trying to act like it’s not affecting her, but he can see through her tough act. Just the thought of her dripping into her panties but acting like she isn’t has his knees weak.

About three holes in, Harry decides to take a break and go inside the club for some much needed air. He hops onto his reserved golf cart beside his wife and leans over to give her a peck on the lips before driving toward the building.

His smirk is still very evident when he places his free hand on her thigh that’s closest to him, and YN thinks nothing of it as it is a normal gesture. When he moves his hand up higher to the bottom of her dress, her breath hitches and she whips her head to look at him as she realizes what he’s doing.

“You’re not funny, H,” she hisses, a scowl on her face as his fingers touch the crevice where her thigh and pelvis meet.

Harry scoffs out a sarcastic laugh at her comment before he speaks up. “Yeah, but it was funny when you did it, hm?” he retorts, making the sharp turn that leads them to the concrete road. The movement makes his hand graze right over her pussy, and the both of them gasp quietly at the feeling.

Smirking, Harry turns his head to her for a split second. “It’s not funny. I see,” he mutters. “‘s not funny because you’re dripping into your panties and you want me to do something about it, right?” he questions, pulling into the parking spot and killing the engine.

He doesn’t even give her time to answer before he’s pushing down right where her clit is, making her choke out a moan.

Just as she starts to buck her hips into his hand, he pulls away, laughing loudly as she whines in frustration. “Should’ve thought about that before you started this, Pet,” he teases, waiting for her to climb out of the cart and head inside.

He reaches his hand out for hers, but she angrily stoops past him, upset that he’s beat her at her own game. The action makes him laugh even harder, shaking his head at his prideful wife.

~

Once inside the club, Harry gruffly greets everyone he knows, ignoring the ogling women around him. He truly only has eyes for his wife, not even bothering to look their way. Each woman has their eyes on him as he steps in, confused as to why he stood waiting by the entrance.

All of their confusion quickly moulds into jealousy as they see a beautiful woman enter the building, a pretty dress on that is the same colour as Harry’s shirt. They each take note of how he smiles softly at her and wraps his arm around her waist to keep her close, a stark contrast to the way he interacts with others.

The club is silent as the two make their way to the bar, watching the way his arm never leaves her body. No one has ever seen YN, let alone the way he treats her differently than everyone else.

The two of them just end up getting waters, parched from the heat. Despite the fact that water is free there, Harry makes sure to slap two $100 bills onto the counter once they receive their drinks.

It’s no longer silent in the club, the onlookers going back about their day as the two are literally just drinking water. Once the two are all refreshed from the cold drinks, Harry places a ringed hand on YN’s thigh once again, making her jump slightly at the coldness of his palm.

She has to stifle a groan when he picks up where he left off earlier, toying with the edge of her panties before pulling them to the side and swiping a finger through her folds. The action has her eyes rolling into her head when he grazes her sensitive clit, and then he just pulls away.

YN groans in frustration at the teasing, leaning up to whisper in his ear angrily. “Okay, it’s not fucking funny anymore,” she grits out, making Harry’s eyes widen slightly in shock. “If you aren’t going to fuck me then stop fucking touching me,” she finishes, sitting up straight once more.

Turning her head, she looks at her husband and immediately knows she fucked up. His eyes have darkened and his jaw is clenched. Unsurprisingly, the sight only turns her on even more, and she has to squeeze her thighs together to try and relieve some of the throbbing between her legs.

“In the fucking bathroom. I want you bent over the sink with y’panties down,” he demands, pinching her clit slightly and making her whimper at the slight pain that shoots up her spine. “And don’t even think about touching yourself. You’re already in trouble,” he warns, snapping her panties back into place and taking another drink of his water.

She practically scrambles as she hurries to the family bathroom, doing as he says and hoping that no one comes in and sees her exposed this way.

It’s definitely been over ten minutes by the time she’s getting so desperate she can barely wait, and then the door swings open, making her tense. She hears a familiar hum of satisfaction from behind her, and she relaxes as it’s only her husband.

Closing the door behind him, he doesn’t take his eyes off of where she’s dripping for him, watching as a bit of her slick trails down her thighs with how desperate she is.

Stepping up behind her, he swipes a finger over the skin of her thigh and collects some of her arousal before bringing it to his lips. Looking up into the mirror, he finds her eyes as he brings his finger to his mouth.

Moaning at the taste, he watches as YN squirms in discomfort as he pussy throbs at the sight. No more words are exchanged as Harry unbuttons his pants and takes his cock out before using his palm to clean up some of her arousal.

YN is confused for a moment, but it doesn’t last long at all as she watches him wrap his hand around his cock and start to stroke it with her stick.

He groans in pleasure as she whines at the sight, unsure how much more she can take. “Please fuck me. Swear I’ll be good, Daddy. Just please,” she begs, finding his eyes in the mirror.

“Mm, I don’t know, pet,” he tsks, stepping forward and moving the head of his cock through he swollen folds. “You haven’t been on your best behaviour today, so I’m not sure if you deserve it,” he hums in faux thoughtfulness.

She’s near tears at this point, just desperate to feel him deep inside of her and stretching her out. “I swear I do, I didn’t meant it,” her eyes are still boring into his. “I’ll be such a good girl, just-,” she’s immediately cut off with a gasp that melts into a moan, as Harry decided to push his cock into her in one quick thrust.

Her hands are gripping the counter tightly as he bottoms out, her jaw dropped as she hears him groan behind her. She’s so fucking full of him, feeling each ridge and vein of his cock grazing her sensitive walls.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Daddy,” she babbles, feeling the head of his cock pressed slightly against her cervix.

The slight pain has her head spinning, and he’s just pressed up against her as he lets her adjust. When she’s fully relaxed, she gives him a slight nod of permission to begin thrusting into her.

Harry wastes absolutely no time, pulling out until only the tip of him is resting inside of her before slamming back into her and burying himself to the hilt.

The force of the thrust sends her flying forward, a choked moan falling from her lips at the feeling. He repeats the action over and over, and she’s sure she’ll have bruises on her torso in the morning from how rough it is. But she wouldn’t change it, not at all. Especially not with the way he’s making her feel so good she can barely form a coherent sentence.

Cries and moans are accompanied by the sound of Harry’s hips hitting her ass with each thrust, giving everyone outside a mental image of exactly what’s going on behind the bathroom doors.

That thought doesn’t stop him, though. If anything, it gave him the motivation to keep up the pace, absolutely wrecking his wife. His fingers are digging into her hips as he pulls her back to meet each thrust as well as keeping her stable.

Removing one hand from her hip, he brings it down onto her backside harshly, listening to her cry out and feeling her clench around him. “Gonna cum?” he questions, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut and nods, ready to cum then and there.

Just as she’s about to fall over the edge, though, she feels her orgasm slipping away and she’s empty as Harry pulls out of her, stroking his cock furiously before sliding the tip back into her at the last moment and cumming inside her contracting walls with a throaty groan.

She whines in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the counter as she squeezes her shaking thighs together for some sort of stimulation.

She looks up at him questioningly, the sadness on her face almost making him feel bad. Almost. The remorse is quickly turned back into arousal as he sees his cum leaking from her and down her thighs a bit.

“Fuck,” he pants, tucking his cock back into his slacks. “I should make you sit out there in a puddle of my cum but I need you home so I can really take you,” he spits before spanking her ass once more.

She moans deeply at the sharp sting as he rubs the sore spot before pulling her panties back up. “Cmon, let’s get to the car,” he tells her, and she instantly obliges.

The two walk back out into the main area, ignoring the shocked looks of the other members as it’s very obvious what they were doing in the bathroom.

~

Once they’re back in the car, YN is still very angry at her mean husband, but at the same time she knows she deserved it for being a brat. She just didn’t think he’d deny her of an orgasm.

The radio is on in the car, and it’s the only sound they can hear beside the engine. YN’s arms are folded neatly in her lap as she tries to avoid more punishment, already knowing he’s angry.

“Pull y’panties down,” he demands suddenly, making YN look at him in shock before immediately doing what he requested as she takes in the firm look on his face. “Rub your clit a little. Just real soft and slow,” he tells her, eyeing her as she places one leg on the dashboard and passes him the panties.

She wastes absolutely no more time, bringing two fingers between her messy folds and then up to her swollen clit before rubbing slowly and softly, just as he’d told her to. The stimulation feels so good, and she squeezes her eyes shut and throws her head back against the seat as she tries not to speed her hand up.

“Would y’look at that,” he muses, basking in the sound of her breathy whines as he watches her tease herself. “Y’panties are all ruined, poor thing,” he smirks.

She cries out in frustration and pleasure as she circles her clit again, the slow torture only making her angry.

He hums in faux sympathy, looking over at her for a brief second. “Do y’need Daddy to take care of you?” he questions, smiling softly as she nods furiously. “Oh, Pet,” he tsks. “Should’ve thought about that, hm?” he continues. “Slap y’cunt five times. Hard. Then put your legs back down,” he finishes, making her groan at the demand.

She follows his orders immediately, the stinging pain of the slaps making her jump and cry out in pain. She doesn’t let up, though, finishing up the request before closing her legs tightly and fixing her dress once more.

Harry gives her a towel to clean his cum from her hand before they continue the drive in silence, YN anticipating what’s to come.

~

By the time they arrive at home, nervous isn’t the word to describe what YN is feeling, not in the slightest. She’s kind of shaky, but Harry places a warm hand on her thigh and calms her down, his gentle touch letting her know that there’s nothing to worry about. He will always take care of her.

Stepping out of the car with her panties in pocket, Harry walks around to the passenger door and helps her out, letting her go in front of him to punch in the code to get into their home.

He closes the door gently, taking his shoes off as she does the same. “You can take a seat on the couch, I’ll be back down after I take a shower,” he tells her before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. Yet another gesture to let her know he isn’t too angry anymore.

She nods and does as he says, just scrolling on her phone for a few minutes until she hears a knock on the front door. Confusion fills her, she’s not expecting anyone and she hopes Harry isn’t at a time like this.

Opening the door, YN is honestly saddened to see Niall, Harry’s best friend, on the other side of the door in some casual clothing.

Leaning down to give her a hug, he places a friendly kiss on YN’s forehead as she invites him in. He starts to slip his shoes from his feet, making YN frown and groan under her breath.

“Hey, YN. I hope you guys don’t mind I came over. My girlfriend and her friends are having a girls day so I’m gonna bother you two for a couple hours,” he tells her, making his way to the couch and sitting down exactly where YN had been sat just moments before.

“No, no! Don’t-“ YN tries to warn him, but he’s already sat there and getting comfortable, turning on the television in front of him.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “It’ll be like I’m not even here,” he finishes.

“Alright,” YN sighs, still standing near the couch. “Do you want a drink or something?” she questions, and he shakes his head.

“No, you just go about whatever you were doing. Thanks,” he smiles, turning back to the television.

“I fucking wish,” YN mutters, headed to the kitchen to get a drink. She rests at the counter with her elbows against it, completely forgetting about how she was pantiless and still dripping with her husband’s cum. Not long after, she feels a presence behind her, making her jump in fear.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Harry chuckles, making her relax. She takes in the scent of his body wash and shampoo, seeing his wet hair before noticing that he’s only dressed in a towel.

“Come upstairs with me. Gonna take care of you, okay?” he tells her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and then repeating the action all the way up her neck, making her whine and squirm.

“We can’t, Niall is here,” she grumbles, and he gives her a look that shows he clearly doesn’t care.

“I know, I saw him come in on the doorbell camera,” he answers. “Just gonna have to be a little quieter than normal, can you handle that?” he asks her, laughing as she nods quickly.

Grabbing her hand, he pulls her with him as he quietly runs up the stairs and into their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

“On y’back. Need to eat your cunt before anything else,” he tells her, and she immediately scrambled to do so, desperate to feel him on her in any way she can.

He climbs on the bed after her and spreads her legs, eyeing her messy cunt before him. He’s rock hard by now, his cock throbbing and aching as he needs to be inside her again and feel her cum around his cock.

Lying down on his stomach, he wastes no time, diving in immediately and swiping his tongue through her dripping folds. Both of them groan at that, YN from the feeling and Harry from the taste of his cum on her.

He closes his eyes and works on her, not letting up for even a second as she pants heavily above him. He’s so hard that he subconsciously starts grinding into the duvet, chasing an orgasm as well.

The towel is still wrapped around his waist, the semi rough fibres grazing his sensitive cock perfectly with each push of his hips into the bedding. The feeling makes him groan against her, only pushing her closer to her orgasm.

“Please, can I cum?” she cries out quietly, reaching down and pushing his head tighter to her. He hums and tries his best to nod, giving her permission to finally cum.

She cums then and there, and it’s so hard she has to squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head to bite down onto the pillow beneath her head. It’s all she can do to keep herself from screaming, her legs shaking around his head as she cums so hard there are stars behind her eyelids.

He keeps licking at her until she whines and pushes him away, making him sit up, panting. “Holy shit we taste so good together,” he mutters, causing her to let out a snort.

“We’re not done, though. Ready for me now?” he asks her, and she laughs in shock before nodding at him.

He quickly helps her to lie on her side, getting behind her and lifting her leg to be over his waist. It’s no secret that it’s her favourite position, allowing her to be close to him as well as feel him so deeply. And it’s his favourite just because it’s her favourite.

Grabbing his cock, he slides the head through her swollen folds for a few seconds before lining up with her hole and slowly sliding in, making her eyes roll back as she gets what she needs.

She lets out a loud moan when he bottoms out, making Harry quickly place his hand over her mouth. “Hush, Pet. Don’t want us to get caught with m,cock deep in you, do you?” he teases, groaning when she clenches down on him at his words. That makes him hum in realization, pulling out just to push his cock back into her before repeating the action over and over at a consistent pace.

Neither of them know that Niall has gone on a search for them, calling their names quietly as he explores the house. Stopping outside of the bedroom door, he hears the faint sound of clapping of some sort, making him stop and listen.

“I bet you want him to hear, hm?” he teases darkly, listening to her whines and moans as she accommodates him fully. “Want m’bestfriend to hear how much of a whore you are for me,” he finishes.

His words have her crying out in pleasure, and he squeezes his hand even tighter around her throat. She claws at his wrist as she struggles to breathe, but he knows she truly doesn’t want him to stop because she didn’t tap him three times.

“Shut the fuck up, ‘m not gonna stop fucking you until you soak my cock and I fill you up again,” he grits, ignoring the sound of Niall groaning in frustration.

The two hear a groan on the other side of their locked door, but he doesn’t let up on his bruising thrusts. “You guys are fucking disgusting, I’m just going to leave,” Niall calls as he makes his way back downstairs with a disgusted look on his face. “Fuck like rabbits, I swear,” he mutters before slamming their front door shut.

YN’s eyes are rolled back into her head, her hand clawing at Harry’s wrist even harder, warning him of her orgasm, knowing it’s going to be big. Leaning down, Harry bites down on her ear gently before pulling away. “I know, baby. Gonna cum again, hm?” he questions, although he already knows the answer.

She nods against the force of him furiously, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to hold off on her orgasm until he gives her permission. Opening her chapped lips, she manages to breathe out, “P-please,” she begs, her voice raspy. Leaning down once more, he presses some gentle kisses all over her neck before sucking on the spot gently.

Wanting to torture her a bit more, he smirks against her skin before he pulls away. “Please, what? What do you want?” he questions, loving the way she chokes and cries out in frustration, tears streaming down her face. “Tell me what you need, use your words, pet,” he hums, feeling her lock up around him once more.

After numerous attempts, and in between gasps for air, she can finally get it out as her lower body practically goes numb. “Please, let me cum,” she begs, feeling her stomach clench almost painfully.

Deciding to end his torment, he nods against her. “Yeah, pet. Cum for Daddy,” he rasps, nearing his orgasm as well. Immediately after he’s finished speaking, he feels her relax around him before locking down on him so tightly that he bites down on his bottom lip to hold back a scream of pleasure.

Her orgasm overloads almost all of his senses; he can hear, feel, and see her orgasm take over her body. The way her breath hitches in her throat and she lets out an almost animalistic groan fills his ears, her tight hole clenching down on him once more as he doesn’t stop his thrusts, the feeling of her orgasm soaking the both of their thighs making him look down as the clear liquid comes from her vagina.

All of those things combined send him over the edge with a silent scream, his face scrunched up as his orgasm is nearly painful with how tight his balls and stomach are.

His thrusts never cease, feeling her flutter around him as he fills her for the last time tonight as she relaxes fully, exhausted. He finally lets go of her throat as she starts to lose consciousness, rubbing up and down her body to ground her and cooing to her to let her know he’s there.

Not even removing himself from her still contracting hole, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder as she comes down slowly. The two stay that way until he has completely softened inside of her and her breathing is no longer shaky and uneven.

Her eyes are still closed in exhaustion when he slowly pulls himself out of her, a small hiss leaving his lips at the temperature change. With another chaste kiss to the side of her face, he lets her know that he’s going to get a washcloth for her, knowing she doesn’t have the energy to move from the bed.

She responds with a tired hum, her eyes still closed. While away, Harry wets a washcloth with warm water before grabbing some relieving cream, and on the way back to his wife he grabs a pair of loose cotton panties for her to sleep in.

Making his way to her, he spreads her legs gingerly before wincing at how swollen she is, guilt filling him. He wipes gently, but obviously not gentle enough as she cries out softly in pain as he grazes her sensitive clit.

“Sorry, baby,” he mutters, being way gentler as he finishes up. As soon as he’s done, he grabs some relieving cream and puts a bit on her before sliding some panties up her legs, rubbing her thighs when she whines slightly in discomfort. “I know, I know. You just need to sleep in them tonight and then you can breathe tomorrow,” he tells her, wiping some sweat from her forehead.

She nods weakly and snuggles into his hand, the warmth making her feel comfortable and even sleepier than she already was. Harry chuckles quietly before cleaning himself up quickly and taking the washcloth back into the bathroom before he pulls some boxers on.

He’s back at her side instantly, helping her weakened body out of the bed and across the hall to their guest bedroom, making sure he tells her what he’s doing to keep her grounded. The blankets are quickly pulled back before he helps her underneath them, and then he’s climbing under them himself, exhausted from his multiple orgasms as well.

No time is wasted before he’s wrapping his arms around her and looking down, only to see that she’s already asleep, her breathing quiet and even. With one last chuckle, he presses a kiss to her forehead before closing his eyes, drifting to sleep as well.

~

taglist

thank you so much for reading!!! your support means the world to me and i am open to any feedback!!! let me know what you thought🤍

[xxsycamore]

Hello:3 😘 for clavis please and thank you :D!!(ikepri)

NO THANK *YOU*! HOPE YOU ENJOY <3

[😘] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝…

CLAVIS:

"Oh, how I missed you my darling. Truly, I missed you so, so much. The day was so awfully long and tormentous without you."

You can barely respond to Clavis in order to let him know that the loneliness he felt was shared, even though you don't know if you can even match his dramatic and enthusiastic tone! While it's true that you forget about how tiresome the day was as soon as you see him, it's a whole other story for him. He's already taking off your shoes, giving your feet a little rub (that is very welcome by the way), placing them on the ottoman, marching to the back of the armchair you're sitting on and finding your shoulders to massage as well, telling you more about how he's missed you during the day...

Does he have a turn-off button?!

Wait, maybe he does.

You reach above you with both hands, cupping Clavis' face. He looks at you with the most love-sick and charming look he has to offer, producing a little curious "Oh?" and leaning down to follow your caress.

You give him a nice upside-down smooch on the chin. Then another one on his left cheek, right over his beauty mark. Then on the same place on his opposite cheek.

"Haha... little bunny, I'm afraid if you keep going, my soul is going to leave my body."

You smooch him again, on the tip of his nose, then on the corner of his lips, then on that same place once again, then-

"My darling wants me dead, I see."

Then you place a few more kisses there and there, because here he's standing obediently despite what he says and despite how red his face is, so how could you not? Besides, you're not too worried about what he's saying. Theatrics aside, you're sure they don't want him in hell just yet. You might be stuck with him forever actually, so...

Thud!

You jump to your feet immediately, only calming down when you discover that Clavis fell right ontop of the bed instead of the cold hard floor. You exhale loudly with a hand on your chest trying to calm down your fluttering-in-worry heart.

Hmm. Maybe he needs a few more smooches, just to make sure he's been properly turned off for the night?

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Kiss - Don't Tell

Cassian/Azriel

Word Count - 2.8k

Summary - after a wild threesome months ago - Cas and Az get a little curious what things would be like without a third party involved.

Warnings - SMUT, m/m smut, mutual masturbation, cocks (no insertion), ass play, what do you want me to say? Its smut.

The night was still young, the sun barely losing the touch of color in the sky as Azriel dropped down onto the plush sofa in his chambers. The fire was already stoked to a steady, calming flicker as he settled comfortably into the cushions with a book, propping his legs onto the ottoman before him. It might have been early to be tucking in for the night, but Azriel was relishing in the quiet of the first night off he had had in months. 

The minutes ticked by in glorious silence but just as he had reached the cliffhanger of a chapter ending, the door to his bedroom swung open, not even a knock of warning. 

“I’m bored,” Cassian sighed as he flopped backwards onto Az’s bed. 

“Here,” Az uttered with irritation as he reached to the table beside him. “Read something. Expand your mind or something.”

Cas sat up and eyed the novel that was tossed onto the empty half of the furniture. Az hadn’t even bothered to look up as he flipped the page nonchalantly, returning to his book. 

“Don’t you have some enemy spy we can play with or something?,” Cas quipped as he meandered over to the sofa. He briefly peered over the shoulder before him, feigning interest in the book Az was reading. 

“They aren’t toys, Cas,” Azriel responded without a glance in his direction. “And I don’t play with them. I interrogate them.” Another casual flip of the page accentuated his words. 

“Yeah, but you have to admit, it's a little fun poking at them though.” Cassian mimicked holding a dagger in his hand as he rounded to sit on the sofa, jabbing in Azriel’s direction with a smirk.

Again, Az’s attention was unwavering. His eyes continued to scan the page as he ignored Cas’s attempts to derail his relaxing evening. Flopping down now on the sofa, Cassian grabbed the book left out for him. Lounging back with a foot landing on Az’s lap, he fluttered through the pages without any actual attempt to take in the book’s contents before slamming the cover shut with a snap. Still no reaction from the other end of the seat, Cassian sighed heavily.

“Have you ever thought about….no, nevermind,” Cassian said as he slid his arm under his head. 

“What?,” Az asked, still reading.

“Remember that night a few months ago?,” Cas began. “After Rita’s? When we brought that cute little redhead home with us?”

Now he had Az’s attention. Lowering his book, he peered over with a curious gaze. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, you know. She was kinda wild wasn’t she?” Cas winked with a smile. “It got a little wilder than our other threesomes, remember?”

Az took a moment, reflecting. He remembered that night well, very well. The cute little redhead had been nearly frothing at the mouth at the idea of bedding two Illyrians at once. And they had been more than happy to oblige. Once things had started heating up, it had become clear that it wasn’t just the idea of two males fawning over her that brought her pleasure, but the idea of two males in general. With or without her. She had asked them to take turns watching as the other pleasured her, but she seemed more enamored with watching the third palming his own cock at the show than the one between her legs. Before the night was over, she had them all tightly pressed together, tongues clashing for hers. Their cocks held tightly in her hands, pressed side by side.

“Yeah, and…,” Az drew out in response as the details of the memory lingered.

“Well,” Cas drew out the word in similar fashion as he rose to sitting. “Have you ever thought about – I don’t know. Kissing? Like – you and me?”

Az reeled back for a fraction of a second in shock before steeling his face into impassivity. “Um, what?,” his voice piped out in a squeak despite his impartial face. 

“I don’t know – it’s just,” Cas stammered, running a hand through his hair to release some tension. “After that night, I mean – I kinda got a little curious. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it at all?”

Azriel’s body was deadly still, every muscle matching the ones in his face holding that impassive stare. The silence held as Cas sat just as still, gauging the body language across from him before throwing up his hands.

“Forget it. Forget I ev–”

“I’ve thought about it,” Az interjected quietly. “All the time.” Those last three words left his lips in a whisper, his face unchanged. 

It was Cassian’s turn to stop, motionless. His body felt like a live wire inside but every inch of him remained wholly still. Their eyes locked across the distance between them, breaths shallow and quick. Suddenly, they were both moving. It was impossible to tell who moved first, but it hardly mattered. 

In a frenzy of arms, they met in the middle of the sofa, lips crashing together, hands grasping at shoulders and tangling in hair. Lips sliding smoothly over each other, their tongues lashed against one another, deeper into the recesses of each other’s mouths. 

Cas pulled back for just a moment, long enough to nip a teasing bite to Az’s bottom lip. The resounding moan that sounded from his chest had him returning with intensity, hand gripping at Az’s neck to press him closer. 

His scarred hands grazed lower, trailing down Cassian’s back before landing roughly at his waist. A bruising squeeze of his fingers left Cas gasping a sharp inhale before shifting his leg. Pulling his knee to the other side of Az’s hip, he settled again, practically sitting in Az’s lap. 

Lips crashing together once more, the breath exchanged between them had reached a fever pitch, quick and panting, swallowed into one another. One of Azriel’s hands began wandering once more as Cas’s own gripped along his firm back. Slipping further, Az’s textured palm met one tight ass cheek, his thumb tracing soothing circles. 

The sensation left Cas’s muscles moving of their own accord as his hips bucked gently against the body in front of him. Pulling back for just a moment, he drank in a breath trying to calm his racing heart. The effort was futile however as Cassian dove back in, this time latching onto the side of Azriel’s glistening neck.

With a groan, Az clenched his hand along Cas’s backside, the other pulling roughly at the roots of his hair. Sliding his palm along his hip, he reached for the laces along the front of Cas’s pants while his other arm clutched Cas’s head deeper into his neck. 

Another involuntary twitch cascaded through his hips as he bucked into Az’s front. “Fuck…,” he moaned into the soft tattooed skin of his neck before pulling away..

Azriel’s hand dropped instantly to Cas’s shoulder, the other resting against his thigh. 

“Az –,” Cas panted out, questioning.

Everything stopped. The kissing, the licking, the breathing. Only the sound of the fire still crackling sounded as they sat pressed together, staring intensely at each other. Two sets of hazel eyes roamed over the other’s face, scanning for what their next move should be. 

The moment was broken as Az gave a testing swipe of his thumb over the laces and Cassian inhaled sharply. “Az.,” Cas’s voice sighed, not a question but a plea.

“Shut up,” Az whispered as he dove back in to kiss him, his hand returning in a flurry to the laces. Both of them lost in the moment, Cas didn’t even notice the sheet of shadow that enveloped them until his body met the mattress. 

Laid out on his side, Cas didn’t even pause. Az quickly propped himself up on one elbow, leaning into the hurried clashing of tongues once more as the laces finally fell open. Cas was now the one reaching at Az’s front. Shifting closer, Az shimmied his hips to allow him better access as he freed Cas’ cock from its confines. 

Cassian whined as a hand wrapped fully around his aching length, his own hands still fumbling at the pants before him. Frustration and elation flooded through him as his tongue darted out, licking a quick swipe to Az’s chest before landing a bite to his pec. 

A growl rumbled through the chest beneath his lips as Az lowered his other hand and offered assistance in freeing his own cock. As the twitching length broke free, Cas pulled away, breaking the hold that Az’s lips had on his throat.

He paused, enamored. Not because he had never beheld the sight before him before now, but because this time, he would get to touch. Fingers trembling, Cas dragged his fingertips feather-light up the soft shaft. 

Azriel hissed a breath in through his teeth, cock twitching harder. Reaching the tip, Cas wrapped his own wide palm around it with a squeeze. Az moaned loudly before rolling his head forward and biting down on the bulging muscle of Cas’s shoulder. 

Both of them aching in each other’s hand, their movements began to match. Slow, languid strokes to the other’s cock as they panted into each other’s bodies. Tongues trailing along skin, teeth nipping at every squeeze. 

The tension building between them was too much to bear and Az pawed at Cassian’s hip, pulling him roughly to the front of his body. Their grasps dropped as both of their cocks lined up together, side by side. The heat radiating between them felt almost electric.

Watching the movement of his own hand, gaze full of the sight before him, Cassian opened his hand wide, grabbing both of their lengths together and pulling one testing stroke. Lowering his forehead to Az’s chest he moaned, from the depths of his belly as Az released a choking sound into his ear. The need to move, kiss, bite – anything – raged through him. His hips bucked into Cas’s grasp as his mouth found purchase on the weathered skin of his neck. The nip he landed sure to leave a bruise tomorrow.

Cas’s strokes didn’t waver even as the sting of the bite hit. His hand continued, picking up the pace slowly as beads of precum now leaked down between their rigid cocks. His tongue tracing along every bit of available skin, Az moved his hand to Cas’s ass once more. Grasping and grabbing, fingertips dancing along the split of his backside. 

Releasing a ragged moan at a particularly rough stroke, the shadows swirled around their joined members, grabbing Cas’s wrist at Az’s direction and halting his movements. Before a protest could be uttered, Az pulled at his hip with surprising strength and had him rolled onto his belly. 

No thoughts stopped him. Moving on instinct, Cas pulled his knees under himself, raising his backside toward the male behind him. Just as he has his body planted firmly, a knee slid between his own, knocking them further apart. He can’t help but chuckle a bit to himself thinking about if this is how his dates felt when he brought them home to bed.

“What’s so funny?,” Az questioned as he took his cock in hand, fingertips gathering the rivulets of shared fluids and slicking them down his shaft. 

“Nothing,” Cas chuckled again. The searing heat of Az’s cock settling between his spread cheeks took his breath away with a guttural moan. “Nothing at all,” he whispered, dropping his head into the pillow before him.

The pace began unhurried, but quickly picked up into the quickness of need. Cas’s knees slipped further apart as he attempted desperately to find some sort of friction, his cock twitching at every thrust at his backside. Firm hands landed loudly on the globes of his ass as Azriel pushed them together, creating more friction along his shaft. The twitching of his cock became more of a painful jump and Cassian lowered his head, peering under his body to watch. The hard aching length of himself, red and impossibly swollen, a steady drip of precum leaked onto the bed below him. Every pump of the male behind him had it throbbing with need. 

The desperation for some friction raged through him, but before he could shift a hand free, Az leaned down over him, mindful of his wings. Like he could read his mind, he reached around and repeated the motion from before. Fingers slicking through Cas’ fluids, he pulled a stroke down his full length, coating him. The strength of each pull, the twist over the tip, Cas was a mess. Arms shaking, face pressed into the pillow again, he screamed as he arched his back deeper into Az. 

The thrusts started to stutter before slowing nearly to a halt, Az panting hard. With the push of his free hand against the bow of Cas’ back, he sat up into a kneel. 

“Should – should I –,” he stuttered.

Pushing up on his forearms, Cas looked back over his shoulder to find Az palming his cock. Slow and measured as their eyes met. 

“Let me,” Cas rasped out, voice broken from his earlier screaming. “I wanna see those eyes, pretty boy”

Azriel’s hand on his cock halted, still grasping. “Fuck. Cas, can you be serious for once.”

“What? I am serious,” he said with a genuine smile as he turned to face him. “You are pretty.” Both in a kneel facing each other, Cas knocked Az’s knees wider and placed his body into his lap, one leg hooking over his hip. “And I do want to see those eyes,” he whispered softly.

Their cocks touching once more, lined up side by side, Cas gave one rolling thrust into the hard plane of Az’s stomach. Az’s hand opened, releasing his own cock to now encompass them both. The grip that surrounded them had Cas thrusting harder a couple more times before he too reached down, palm opposite the other and joined the grasp.

Squeezing together in tandem, both males thrust into each other, tips trailing along the lines of defined muscle that grace their bodies.

“Fuck,” Az moaned leaning into the shoulder in front of him. “Cassian.”

Cas felt his cock trying to twitch but the hands around them both prevented the movement, he could feel each beat of Az’s heart in his palm as he applied even more pressure, both of them still thrusting.

“That’s it,” Cas whined.

Feeling the grip tighten, Az responded in kind leaving Cas gasping out a moan that sounded more like a sob. 

“That’s it,” he wailed, lowering his head onto Az’s chest, watching a trickle of cum beginning to crest over his tip. Thrusting harder now, he watched as that trail became smeared over Azriel’s abs and lost all his control. With a crying shout, Cas came. Thick white streams shot onto the defined abs of Az’s stomach.

The heat of Cas’ release meeting his skin was Az’s undoing. Just as Cas’ gaze swiveled up to meet his, hazel eyes so similar to his own, Az followed behind him. Cocks still gripped tightly together, Cassian’s hand was still moving in time with his, a guttural roar left his body as his release painted over Cas’ front. 

His cock had already begun to soften some, but the feeling of Az’s come landing on his body had his entire body jerking with the pulse of his cock filling with blood once more. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat as it roared in his ears, Az’s forehead meeting his shoulder. 

Both their hands now fell from their cocks, scrabbling for purchase on the body before them. Hands grasping at shoulders and tangled in hair as they caught their racing breath. 

The next morning came quicker than it felt it should have. Three Illyrians had trudged into the clearing outside the bounds of Velaris at Rhys’ insistence that they gather before the sunrise. The sun now hung well above the horizon and the heat beat down strongly on the two still grappling in the makeshift ring.

Rhys stood off to the side, drinking his fill of water after taking on both Cassian and Az individually once already. He watched as the punches landed seemed harder than usual, the dodges more swift and the retaliation more brutal. He just laughed to himself as he watched them spar with a renewed vigor even after multiple rounds this morning.

“You two should just kiss already and get it over with,” he shouted across the clearing. “Save us all some time.”

Cassian’s laugh rang loudly in response as he smirked at Az, still in defense posture across from him, fists raised. 

“Hear that Az?,” he asked in a low drone. “We should just kiss.”

Az’s glower deepened. “Shut up,” he snapped before taking him down in a tackle to the hips and pinning him to the ground.

[leonw4nter]

i was replaying tlou and i was wondering if you could do a drabble with tlou! au with re2r leon and fem reader where they live in jackson together and just all domestic n sweet?

I Only Have Eyes For You

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader TLOU AU

He gives the weighty Discman strapped on his hip a pat or two, the wooden ladle softly clacking against the pot’s sides as he sets it down for a moment to check on the cumbersome music player.

With these hung– eyes–

– and I can’t disguise–

I’ve– hungry eyes– I feel–

“I got you six months ago,” he softly grumbles as he removes the plug before returning it back to the port. “You can’t be that bad for second-hand, bud.”

After a few more pats and readjustments, he’s finally content with how the song sounds and turns his full attention back to the meal cooking on the stove. He hums along to Eric Carmen’s Hungry Eyes instead of his usual rock songs, sandy-hued strands of his bang swaying on his forehead as he bobbed his head. He felt a tiny yet dense mass rub against his leg, a white and orange chunk of fuzz meowing at him for more food, though the tiny beast had already been fed his dinner moments ago and seemed to be on a pursuit to gain more kilos.

“Snugglepuss, I just fed you baby,” he says in a slightly higher pitched tone as he quickly glanced down at his son, inquisitive yellow eyes staring at him as if to say ‘hey dad, I don’t think the food you put in my bowl is enough’. “Mom’s going to kick us out in the cold if we don’t follow the diet plan that the vet gave you.” 

With a pleading meow, the fatty rubs his cheek against Leon’s ankle and flops down, laying on his back and exposes his tummy for a rub but his dad promises him a cuddle later, preoccupied with finishing up dinner. Accepting defeat temporarily, Snugglepuss gets his heavy ass up and walks over to the living room to nap on the ottoman to let Leon finally cook up dinner in peace. He is just about to turn the stove off and plate the food when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his torso and a comforting weight press against his back, relaxing when he realizes that you’ve arrived home and he simply didn’t notice because of the music playing in his ears.

“Didn’t notice you coming in,” he says with a grin as he pulls away from a kiss to get back to switching the stove off.

“You were listening to music at full blast,” you respond as you pause the music player and lift the headphone from his ears, letting it hang around his neck before giving him another kiss on his puffy cheek.

“It wasn’t full blast, more like medium volume.”

“Yeah, right.”

Rolling those pretty boy blue eyes, he gets back to plating the dinner he’s been cooking. You stand behind him, peeking from his tall shoulder. “Dinner looks amazing, good job sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.”

He glows at your words, fumbling with the spatula as he awkwardly brushes off the praise. “N-No biggie.”

You chuckle at how his sass melted away to reveal his easily flustered side, flushing pink at any compliment or praise coming from you. He can be doing something incredibly mundane like sweeping the floor and you’d comment on his dutifulness regarding chores around the house and his a rosy flush would climb from his neck and make its way to the tips of his ears, giving away his excitement for receiving a compliment from his dear girlfriend. Helping him along, you take some placements and place them on the table, along with plates and utensils. It’s as if Leon sensed that you were about to ask him if Snugglepuss had eaten already and he said he already fed him the amount he’s required to have. Leon walks over to the dining table, a steaming plate of food in his hands. He walks back to the kitchen, undoing his apron and hanging it on the apron rack before he joins you in the dining table to share a meal together.

“How was work, honey? Super tired?” Leon asks before he takes a forkful of his dinner, humming in satisfaction when he tastes the satisfying blend of flavors in his mouth.

“Business as usual– controlling the flow of water, making sure nothing freezes and damages the turbines, having to do twice the amount of hardwork the dudes at work do just to prove that I’m just as good and maybe even better than them,” you respond. “But it’s fun, especially seeing the men lose their shit when I come up with something they wish they thought of first. You should see the anger on their faces, steam is pouring out their ears.”

Conversation flowed smoothly during the rest of dinner time, Leon chipping in with what he busied himself with while you were gone. He also told you about Snugglepuss asking for more food and his new meal plan’s progress, much to your delight. As much as Leon adored his son eating a little too well, he knew that it would get to a point where it would do more harm than good so he actively does his part in making sure the fatty slowly loses his weight. You also spoke up about some workplace gossip, lowering your voice and leaning a little closer to him while he actively listened and reacted, giving his own thoughts on the information provided to him.

Life before having to move to Jackson was a lot like this– Leon in the police force, you working for an engineering firm, and you two coming home to one of you cooking up a warm, home cooked meal, and sitting down at the dinner table to share what went on with the other’s day. After the outbreak of the Cordyceps and the town you two once lived in deemed no longer safe, you two had no choice but to wander around for a little bit before coming across some groups of people heading towards this place called Jackson. The place was perfect for you two– a small quaint community with everything important inside, cold weather year-round which meant that you wouldn’t have to sit in front of the fan during summer months, walls that kept the inhabitants inside safe from the hordes of the infected, and job opportunities that suited to both your careers. It took Leon a lot of convincing to lay low and take a moment to focus on himself, staying away from doing something that needed extra physical effort; he had been the one doing most of the work– collecting dry leaves and sticks to start a fire, catching fish in streams (if there were some), and fended off some of the infected successfully due to his police training back at the academy. While out in the wilderness and you two probably looked and smelt like death, not a single thought about leaving you behind passed his mind, even if you weren’t exactly the best at shooting guns. Instead, he taught you how to handle one and reload a gun, as well as cleaning it and trying to remedy a jammed bullet. He rarely used guns, however, and opted to teach you and himself how to use spears and bows and arrows since these weapons made significantly little to no noise, unlike a gun. Upon arriving at Jackson and finding out that the community is powered by a dam, you immediately asked if there were still slots for another engineer to be added to the team and fortunately for you and Leon, there was so now that engineering job pays the fatty’s vet bills, electric and water bills, as well as day-to-day expenses. Leon’s been loving the stay-at-home boyfriend arrangement, taking pleasure in cleaning up around the house and being in charge of keeping the house warm to welcome you in after a long workday.

Soon, the plates were empty and both of you ate to your heart’s content. You offered to do the dishes while Leon wiped the tables and wiped the plates and utensils dry, content to be spending some time with you. Brows furrowed in concentration as you scrubbed the pan, you didn’t notice Leon giving you a soft look reminiscent of a puppy, blue eyes attentively observing the way your fingers held the sponge as you tried to wash away a stubborn stain. You only pop back into Earth when you hear a faint snort coming from your right, a breathy noise coming from your boyfriend. You raise an eyebrow at him but he mutters “nothin’” and gets back to wiping at a faster pace than he was, occasionally stealing glances before calling your shared fatty cat.

“Snugglepuss! C’mere boy, pspsps!” Leon says in a baby voice, walking to the other side of the kitchen island to be closer to the living room. “C’mere, my cutie patootie!”

A few moments of silence passes before a tiny and short meow can be heard from the living room, causing Leon to audibly coo and walk over to carry the fat little thing. “Aw, my son. You’re looking extra cute today, aren’t you a little cutie pie?” You laugh, finishing up the last of the dishes. Leon’s just about to bend down and put his son down to help you with wiping but you refuse, finishing up the drying so you can give Leon and that near-obese domesticated feline beast time to bond and snuggle. “Sorry that I can’t cuddle you yet hon, I promised this little cutie baby first.” He heads to your shared room, showering the ‘toddler’ in his arms with endless compliments about how fluffy, cute, and adorable he is.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After everyone’s done cleaning up and showering for the night, you and Leon sit in a comfortable silence in your bed– you, eyes focused on the box TV playing Forrest Gump while Leon’s attention darts from the crossword puzzle in his hands and the film you’re watching. You’re brushing your wet hair, trying to get it to dry faster so you can finally lay down and be able to lean your head against Leon’s shoulder. The film reached the scene where Bubba talked about how shrimp is like the fruit of the sea and listed all the possible ways shrimp can be cooked and Leon followed him along, word by word.

“There's shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried.” He said in his attempt at a Southern accent.

“There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That, that's about it.” You finish, also trying to imitate a Southern accent. You look to your side, Leon grinning as he places his puzzle down, the book resting against the sleeping fatty’s side.

“You sound stupid,” he jokes.

“I sound what?” you retort in an eerily sweet voice, shooting a wide smile at him.

“I said you sound amazing, honey. A natural at the accent,” he corrects himself.

“That’s what I thought,” you beam in a confident tone. “It would be a shame to sleep in the snow without any blanket when the house is so warm and toasty inside.”

“Yeah,” he sheepishly agrees. “Would be a real shame to be alone outside when I could be with my loving and totally not scary girlfriend.” He affirms as he scoots closer towards you whilst trying not to wake Snugglepuss.

“Don’t push it, Scotty Boy.”

Leon pulls away suddenly, an exaggerated look of unadulterated shock on his soft and rosy features. “What did you just call me?! Repeat it please?!”

You giggle deviously, inching closer towards him. “Scotty Boy,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. He yelps, leaping out of bed and making a cross with his index fingers as he tries to inch away from you. “You animal!” He exclaims, his tone indicating that he means this in a hyperbolic manner.

“That’s why you love me,” you sweetly counter as you bat your lashes at him and try to come closer to him.

“I’m calling animal control on you,” he jokes as he begins to move away from you at a faster rate but you follow suit, leaping out to chase him as he squeals like a girl. The lazy, fatass cat on your bed is roused from his nap, looking at you two with a twinge of annoyance. After chasing him, he slows down and lets you cling on to him as you pepper his face with moist and warm kisses, smooth lips leaving a tingle of electricity in his face as the rosiness made its way to his ears like it always did when he got flustered.

“Gotcha,” you quietly mumble as you try to catch your breath though Leon doesn’t seem to have broken a sweat. He stops wriggling and trying to break free, freeing his arms from your grip to give you a hug and quickly lift you up before setting you down. He takes the moment to give you a tight yet still snug hug, swaying you around as if he was starting a waltz. A waltz. An idea pops in your head and you leave his arms, diving to his side of the bed and finding the box of CDs underneath the bed. Leon follows you, trying to watch your movements. “Looking for something?”

“Do you still have the CD from The Flamingos?” you ask as you continue to look around.

“Uh… I’m not sure? I’ll help you.”

He bends down with you, rummaging through the boxes underneath the bed. For only a few dollars and 2 boxes full of classic oldies music in intact CDs sold right outside the old library, Leon decided to take the too-good-to-be-true deal and come home with boxes full of amazing music about a year ago. He hasn’t gotten to playing all the CDs but has listened to some of them, some with you while some he listened to on his own time. After a few minutes of rummaging and trying to remember the title, he finally got to the disc that you wanted. You take the CD from his hand and grab the cumbersome music player, slipping the disc in and waiting for the song to play. “I Only Have Eyes For You”, the disc case reads. The CD plays the song a little too early for your liking so you pause it and press the button to go a few seconds back before you skip to him. Placing one of his large hands on your waist and the other holding your other hand, you ask Leon to a dance.

“May I have this dance?” you softly ask with a glimmer in your eyes. He glows on the proposition of having a romantic slow dancing moment with you, nodding. “Sure.”

You walk over to the player and press the play button and soon, the short instrumental at the beginning begins to play. You quickly walk over to Leon, swaying and dancing with him quietly. In the soft glow of a single bedside lamp, the room was a comforting mix of shadows and dim glow lighting; the wooden floorboards quietly croaked with each step, adding to the faint mixtures of various sounds that otherwise filled the room along with the song.

The moon may be high,

But I can’t see a thing in the sky.

I only have eyes for you…

You and Leon move slowly along to the rhythm of the music, fingers lightly grazing the hem of your (his) thin sleep shirt. His other hand holds yours, warm fingers intertwined in a tender embrace. Your free hand perches on his shoulder, feeling the comforting and familiar heat seep out from his gray shirt. Your bodies move unhurriedly, as if time paused to honor this moment. The dim glow appeared to unveil more stars in Leon’s cerulean irises; they looked dazzling on him and dazzled you were.

I don’t know if we’re in a garden

Or on a crowded avenue.

You are here

And so am I.

He leaned in, warm breath fanning against your forehead before his lips came into contact with your skin. The simple gesture sent fizzles of electricity down your body, gooseflesh flaring up on your arms as a soft smile spread on your lips. He pulls back, admiring the beautiful collection of all the universe’s majesties compacted into the perfect girl he can hold and keep safe in his arms as the song goes on, serenading the both of you. His gaze drifts everywhere before finally landing on your lips, the urge to kiss you growing stronger with each passing moment. Finally, he leans and closes the remaining distance as your lips and his meet in a tender and careful embrace; the kind of kiss that spoke volumes of love and resilience, a dance of rosy flesh as gentle as the song you two are waltzing to. The kiss lingered on for a little longer, heads tilted in eagerness and brows furrowed in increased want, sealing the moment with a promise to many more waltzes along the years to weather together. His hands detangle from yours to rest on the small of your back while the other would cup around the base of your head to pull you closer but he lets out a muffled yelp, pulling back and eyes shooting wide open in alarm. You pull back, surprised at him too.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly says as he tries to restore the disrupted moment of vulnerability and peace by bringing you back in his arms, pressing an apologetic peck to the tip of your nose. “The cat bit me in the leg.”

You try to hold back a sudden fit of laughter, ducking your face away from him but a snort makes its way out and you lose it, hysterically laughing. You feel Leon’s chest start to jerk too, joining in to laugh with you. “Seems like he wanted to be in on the moment with us, drama queen.”

“Just like his mama,” he says.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re more dramatic than I am!”

“I’m nonchalant, you’re chatty and dramatic 24/7.”

“‘Nonchalant’, my ass.”

His chest rumbles with more laughter, his head slightly thrown back before he faces you again. “Snugglepuss, look away since you don’t like seeing us kiss.”

Eager to resume and set the romantic mood again, he tilts your chin upwards with his thumb and index to reconnect his lips with yours. Just like earlier, the kiss was soft and careful, a physical manifestation of devotion that words could not fully encapsulate. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, right underneath where your hair would be while you responded by pressing your body closer to him, feeling his thundering heart against your chest. You two kissed with the intention to not let go, despite the need for air but your need for each other is stronger so you didn’t part, the world pausing because all that mattered is the comforting feeling of your lips perfectly molded against each other.

Maybe millions of people go by,

But they all disappear from view.

I only have eyes for you…

NOTE - ITS SO HUMID WHERE I LIVE BRO SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE 😭🙏 Not only do I feel crusty bc of the heat, I also feel STICKY bc of the humidity in here- even if its's raining, it's still so damn hot like bro is this a free trial to hell temperatures??? Before I continue yapping, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I don't rlly play and know much about TLOU so I had to do some research before and during my writing so I can get it pretty accurate so if I'm rlly inaccurate here um I'm sorry and I rlly tried my best 😭😭 Also, I started driving like a day or two ago and I do know the basics already (minus parking- i HATE parking with all my heart and soul... i know how to park but i have to reverse like... 6 more times before i can park properly) but I'm still very nervous- coz I've been driving in an empty course for practice and the thought of driving on the open road with other people makes me want to kms 💔 Ovulation go crazy coz the first thing I think of when I wake up is Leon doing bench presses while wearing sweatpants and he's grunting and groaning n shitt like bend over babyboy twinkle twinkle little star and get to oiling up I need to get you pregnant with twins. Anyways, thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[dez78]

A night of passion

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

As requested by @ghoulspirits

Hope I captured the moment! Enjoy!

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

Fandom: Fallout 4

Pairings: Hancock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+)

Additional Tags: Smut with plot, romantic Hancock, Public sex, massage leads to sexy time.

Summary: You and Hancock finally find time to have a break and things get heated quick.

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

(Not my Gif)

You and Hancock headed into the Third Rail. The last few days have been hell, you have been retrieving caches and dead drops for the Railroad. You needed a break from the constant fighting, you yearned to just sit and have a beer.

"Hey Chuck, two beers." Hancock said as he leaned on the bar,

"Coming right up, mayor!" Charlie replied as he went over to the old, rusted out fridge.

You went to sit on the stool, but Hancock caught your wrist. You looked up at him with a perplexed expression on your weathered features.

"No, no, sweetheart. You and me got a reserved section in the VIP." Hancock said to you in a sensual tone. You quirked your eyebrow and smirked at him.

"Is that so?" You asked with a snarky tone and a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Hm mhm." Hancock hummed in response, he grabbed the two beers and whisked you away to the shadows of the VIP lounge, tucked away from the prying eyes.

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

Upon entering, Hancock handed you one of the beers. You took it and popped it open with your pipboy. You plopped down on the old, worn couch. The springs protested under yours and Hancock's weight.

The ghoul flipped his feet up, resting them on the ottoman, taking a swig of his beer. You sipped your own, relaxing finally. Your muscles were tense.

You felt all the pressure in your joints as you rolled your shoulders with a low groan and a furrowed brow.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Hancock questioned, looking over at you.

"Just sore from all that damn fighting and walking." You whined, rolling your neck.

"Well, I ain't no expert, but I can try to help." Hancock offered, you didn't respond verbally, only nodding your head.

Hancock sat up, he put his beer on the floor. You unzipped your vault suit, revealing your skin to your partner. Hancock bit back the moan as he saw your skin for the thousandth time. It didn't matter how many times he saw you; you still stole his breath.

His rough hand trailed down your smooth back, unclasping your bra with only two fingers. You sighed a long breath as you felt the freedom. Hancock watched his fingers mapping your skin and the details of it.

Then he gripped your shoulders, you groaned low, throwing your head back.

His palms and thumbs massaged in the right places. You felt the popping of your joints and the release of your muscle tensity. You were lost in the sensation that Hancock's voice sounded yards away.

When you came to, Hancock was laughing.

"Now come on, sunshine. You keep making those noises, I'll have to cut this short." He said as he growled low, his breath on your neck. You bit your lip; your cheeks were flushed a bright pink.

"Would that be such a horrible thing?" You questioned innocently.

"I would certainly take you up on that offer." Hancock replied, still massaging your neck and shoulders. You turned then, catching Hancock's breath. He bit his lip as his coal eyes were fixed on yours.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous." He said stunned, admiring every detail of your face in the dim light. You were surprised, the first thing he didn't look at were your breasts, instead he fawned over your face, your eyes, your lips.

You smiled to yourself; he had his charm, but sometimes he was about more than sex. Only for you. You weren't an object or a one-night stand that meant nothing. You were his equal, his partner, you were his and he was yours.

Hancock cupped your jaw, you leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. He hummed with contentment. He pulled you in and captured your lips in a tender kiss. He ran his other hand up your body, feeling every inch of your stomach before finally cupping one of your breasts in his large hand.

He gave you a gentle squeeze, you moaned into his mouth and that was his invitation. He dipped his tongue into your mouth. You let him in with no hesitation, your lips danced with each other in a smooth rhythm.

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

It wasn't long before things got hot and heavy, Hancock had torn off your vault suit and his own clothes. He held you up by your waist as he laid on top of you, leaving a trail of love bites across your neck and breasts. His fingers were graceful as he smoothed up your back.

He drove powerful thrusts into you, you were glistening with beads of sweat and were a mess of sound. It was music to Hancock's ears.

"That's right, baby girl. Let them know who you belong to." He rasped through thrusts. You cried out, arching your back. Hancock kept you steadied as your body convulsed for the fourth time that night.

Hancock leaned down, kissing your jawline as he slowed to an even pace. Giving you time to recover. He kissed your neck tenderly as he pushed into you slowly.

"You like that, sweetheart?" Hancock purred into your ear; you nodded slowly enjoying the feeling of him filling you up with his immensity.

"You're such a good girl for taking it all." Hancock praised you, you shuddered with delight as his voice rumbled against your sensitive skin. He kissed your lips with a tenderness he only had for you.

You usually liked it the way he gave it, but sometimes you wanted slow, and he provided and proved to be an excellent lover in both times. It all depended on you. He respected your feelings. He never did anything you were against. He always made sure you were okay and if you liked what he was doing. If not, then he'd stop.

He was never rough unless you wanted it. You loved that about him, he gave you options and freedom with your love life.

"You ready, love? Or do you want this some more?" Hancock asked you, kissing your neck gently.

"I want it rough." You growled, Hancock got that mischievous glint in his eye and gave you a devilish grin.

He sat up.

"Spread your legs for me, baby." He commanded, you opened your legs for him, and he devoured you. You threw your head back, screaming in bliss. Your thighs quivered. He was hitting your sweet spot. Your hair was falling over your face, wet from sweat.

Beads trickled down the curve of your breast, your lips were swollen, your body glistened, and your eyes sparkled. You were beautiful. It sent Hancock over the edge. You arched your back, contracting around your lover. Your whole body shook.

"Fuck." Hancock breathed with a hoarse laugh. You laid there for a moment, catching your breath. Hancock smiled, drawing circles on your stomach.

"Enjoy, sweetheart?" He smirked; your eyes were half lidded as you looked at him.

"What do you think?" You quipped with a tired smile. Hancock didn't say anything, just gave you his own genuine smile. You loved how he wore it. It suited him. You were the only one to ever see his true smile. He faked it for others, but he put all his trust in you.

You felt lucky to know him, the true him. Not the show ghoul that he put on for everyone else. The facade. You grabbed his face and pulled him on top of you. He rolled his tongue at you,

"Round two already?" He teased; you shook your head.

"No, just kiss me." You told him, he looked a bit surprised, but didn't protest to the request. He leaned down. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his lips against yours.

The kiss was sweet, not heavy and hot like it was moments ago. This one was tender, gentle, and full of love. Hancock poured his all his feelings into his kisses. This time was no different.

The two of you pulled away for only, but a moment. In that time, your eyes met. You saw the sincerity in Hancock's expression.

"I love you, sunshine." He said, brushing strands of hair from your sticky forehead, you smiled up at him.

"I love you too, John." You replied lovingly. Hancock's smile was bright, he loved his name on your lips, it was a beautiful sound, even more beautiful than your moans, he admitted.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, savoring the kiss. Savoring the moment. It was perfect, you were perfect.

[baby-yongbok]

Pleasure & Power

Hard Dom!Hyunjin x Sub!Fem Reader x Dom!Felix

Genre: Smut, makes mud look clean, idol

Word Count: 3,236

A/N: 3rd person POV + Thick/Chubby and POC Reader + I wrote this in a haze at 5am lol enjoy.

✨️Masterlist✨️

Summary: Your boyfriends take pride in pleasuring you. On another ordinary day, they decide to show you just how much they enjoy you.

Warnings: Poly Relationship, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it up ya'll), Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Choking, mention of drugs, mention of edging. (That should be all, sorry if I missed anything!)

Reader is called: Baby, Good Girl, Brat, Sweetheart, Angel, Sweetie , Greedy Girl, Kitten

It wasn’t rare that you’d get home first, your shoots tended to start earlier than theirs since you picked the world's busiest photographer and the only consecutive appointment you could secure is a 6 a.m. every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag by the large front window that was your primary selling point for buying this house. You strut over to the kitchen after checking that the door is locked twice and opening the blinds in the main room. Your pale pink tennis skirt and white crop top moved smoothly with your body as you reached up on your toes to grab a bottle of white wine that Hyunjin brought back with him from his Burberry shoot last week. The only thing on your mind was relaxing and you planned on doing so by sitting on your suede apple red couch with your feet up listening to R&B while you more than generously treat yourself to this fine wine. 

"Yeah, I just got in." Felix dropped his bag next to yours, locking the door behind him. "Yeah she's here, knocked out as usual."

Quietly, he steps over to the side of the couch trying to ensure that his sneakers against the hardwood wouldn't wake you. 

"Oh? So what are you thinking?" He listened to Hyunjin’s plan as he slipped off his shoes carefully and stepped a bit closer to your sleeping body. 

“Sounds like a plan” The smile on the freckled man’s face spoke a thousand words and little did you know you were about to hear all about it.

"Alrigh', bye"

Gently sitting next to you, Felix puts his arm around you and pulls you into him.

"Y/n" He whispers your name trying to make sure you’re really asleep as he takes a second to take in your outfit of the day, internally moaning at the sight of the pale colors against your vibrant brown skin. 

"You know what." Felix whispers to himself as he moves from next to you, careful not to wake you up. Moving Gently, He sets your feet on the floor from the ottoman and spreads your legs ever so slowly. He wasn't surprised to find you in a thong since it seemed to be your preferred method of undergarment. 

Moving it to the side lightly he wastes no time to lick a hot stripe up your pussy and showing your clit the attention it deserves very early on. Your body jolts at the sudden sensation as it musters and releases an involuntary moan. 

"Baby?" you moaned out before your brain could catch up with what was happening.  

"Mmm" He responded with a hum purposefully keeping contact with your core. He worked his tongue against you just the way you loved it, gaining moans of approval and jolts so powerful that he had to put his arm across your hips to hold you down. 

"Hol' still baby." He mumbles as he pulls back momentarily to lick his lips. "Be good for me."

You tried your best to keep your hips in place, biting down on your lips to displace the pleasure. Your legs shook and your thighs slightly clenched around his head making him moan into you each time. Only the heaven's know how much time passed from the time that he started to now. Five or ten minutes, maybe?  Either way it was enough time for him to get home; the third. 

Felix didn't pull away from your core one bit at the sign of his arrival, if anything, he sucked at your pleasure nub more aggressively attempting to milk a third orgasm from you.  

"Well isn't this a sight to be welcomed home to" Hyunjin, your other boyfriend, comments as he sits his bag down with all the others by the large window. His eyes seemed darkened with lust the moment that he walked through the door and that's when you knew that the two had planned this from the moment that Felix saw you sleeping on the couch. They planned to ruin you. 

"Jin." You moaned his name lazily and reached your hand out to him. He sits on the edge of the curved couch, just out of your reach.  

"Does it feel good, y/n? Tell me about it " Hyunjin's teasing nature was elaborate and nearly demeaning. You'd never guess that he’d like to take the dominant lead until you got to know him.  

"H-he's sucking and licking my pussy so good, Jin." Your answer makes Hyunjin grin.  

"Aren't you glad you have two men who are always planning your pleasure?" Nodding feverishly you let out a deep moan as Felix replaces his tongue with his fingers giving himself a short break.  

"There’s never a day that we don't want you feelin' good, baby" Without a chance to reply, your third orgasm snuck up your spine causing your back to arch in pleasure. A chuckle fell from Hyunjin’s lips.

“That’s a good girl.” Hyunjin gets closer to you, kissing you teasingly soft. He deepens the kiss and you eagerly follow his lead. 

“You know what I want to know?” Felix asks as he slowly removes his fingers from your throbbing cunt. 

“Hm?” Hyunjin asks, pulling away from the kiss between you two. 

“What’s for lunch?” Felix stands from his spot in front of you looking down at you with a menacingly cocky grin. They are not about to do what you think they’re about to do, they wouldn’t.

“I was actually thinking that we should try this Thai place further into town. I think the menu is in the kitchen.” Hyunjin stands with Felix and they both start to make their way towards the kitchen leaving you a literal dripping mess on the couch. You whine loudly earning chuckles from the both of them.

“Did you hear something, bro?” Felix asks.

“Mm nothing besides a whining brat, no.” They both laugh as they get further into the kitchen to look for the lunch menu. You can faintly hear their voices as they laugh and talk over the menu as well as the three orgasms Felix just put you through. “Y/n, you wanna try the Thai place?”

“S-sure” You can’t help but to stutter as you readjust your clothes and fix the wide part of your thong to cover your soaked core. 

“They don’t deliver so Hyunjin is gon call it in and I’m gon pick it up, you wan’ come?

“Yeah, okay, I could use some air.”

Paparazzi were already swarming the streets when you and Felix arrived at the Thai spot. It happened to be in a pretty popular part of town and once they saw the two of you all of the attention went from some up and coming star to Felix. They immediately started asking questions about the new album and what he and the other members planned to do on tour. They asked him how he feels about dating a model and if he shares you with other guys in the group which earned that particular reporter an aggressive push and a warning from Felix. Yes, you were dating both him and Hyunjin but the two men went by a motto when it came to the public eye ‘It’s none of their business who you’re on your knees for’. 

 Ultimately, he told you to keep your head down and stay quiet, don’t leave his side and you’ll be in and out in no time. That was fifteen minutes ago and you and Felix were just making your way back home when you decided that you wanted some payback for what he and Hyunjin pulled earlier. You placed your hand on his thigh ‘innocently’ rubbing his knee. He looked over at you with a quizzical look that you ignored as you continued to stare forward into the headlights of oncoming traffic. 

Suddenly, he made a left turn instead of a right and your hand stopped rubbing at his knee. With furrowed brows you asked where he was going but he stayed silent only glancing over at you with a hard look on his face. Did you do something wrong back at the Thai spot? Did you deal with the paparazzi wrong? He pulls into a parking deck for some huge business building and goes all the way to the back of the third floor where the cars are more than generously spread apart. Just as you’re about to ask him why you’re there his hand finds a tight grip on your throat and he pushes you back into your seat.

“Do you think that I don’t know what you’re up to, Sweetheart?” He grins over at you before pulling you towards him with one hand on your hip and the other staying around your neck. He positions you so that you’re straddling him in the front seat and he leans the chair back a bit to allow you to move a bit freely. 

“Listen to me when I tell you this, angel; I can read you like a fucking book. There isn’t a thing that you thought about that I didn’t think about first.” A moan leaves your lips as his breath hits your neck. The smell of his cologne only amplifies the arousal you feel at your core. “You wanted revenge righ’? You wanted to get me back for leaving you needy on the couch.”

Your eyes meet his and he can immediately see how desperate you are, it’s not like you were trying to hide it anyway, Felix just has that effect on you. “ Go ahead.”

He lets go of the grip around your neck and you take this as your chance to get what you really want. You immediately start to fumble with his jeans, trying your best to undo the buttons and zipper, he makes no attempt to help you, he simply watches with a wide smile on his face. He loves watching you act greedy for his dick, the way you pant as you focus on getting him inside of you is a sight that he could watch on repeat. You finally free his cock from the restraints of his jeans and moan slightly at the sight of his thickness, pulling your thong to the side for him once again. 

Your palm presses flat against the glass of the window as Felix helps you grind against him, the window fogging up from your breathless gasps and heated bodies that are pressed against each other. Your forehead rests against his as your eyes flutter shut, completely and utterly entranced by pleasure. His lips started lingering against yours before deepening into a breathless makeout while your bare core rubbed over his aching member. 

"Fuck, angel." Felix groans, his eyes flickering down between the two of you, he positions his dick right at your entrance and slowly pushes inside. His eyes never leave your aching cunt as he  watches his cock slip in and out of you, his fingers grip into your hips as you ride him, your head is thrown back in pleasure as you take all of his thick member. The stretch of him filling you with each thrust is what you loved the most, it's what you craved every single day that you woke up next to him. 

"So perfect for me, fuckin' me nice and good, aren't you?" Moans fall from your lips as you reach over to grip onto his strong shoulders, not able to form legible words let alone a full sentence. 

“Take it baby, take it all.” That’s the last thing you heard him say before your orgasm quietly built up and melted inside of you, of course that didn’t matter to him. He fucked you through your climax until he reached his own. The overstimulation you felt was like being high on the best weed you’ve ever bought. You could barely pick yourself up off of him when it was time to go. 

“Come on, sweetie, the foods gettin’ cold.”

Hours later you found yourself on the same red couch as earlier watching a movie with Hyunjin. Felix turned in early to make sure he got at least a little bit of rest before he had to be up in a couple of hours. Luckily for you and Hyunjin, tomorrow is your day off. You’re not really sure what movie the two of you are watching, it was a random Netflix pick that turned out to be pretty good. You'd love it even more if it wasn’t a horror film. 

“I think I'm gonna grab some ice cream, ya want some?” You ask Hyunjin and he shakes his head no with a small grin. You waste no time in standing from your previous seat, a bit desperate to get away from the movie for a bit. You reach into the freezer for your favorite Ice cream and turn swiftly on your heels to place it on the counter and pick out a bowl. Just as you close the freezer you jump and scream at Hyunjin who’s snuck up on you while you were distracted. He put his hand over your mouth just in time to avoid waking up Felix. When he feels that you’re calm he lets you go.

“What the fuck Jin why -” He takes a step towards you as he cuts you off mid sentence.

“Did he fuck you in the car?” You look up at him with wide guilty eyes as you take in a large gulp of air. “Did he fuck you in the drivers seat? The back seat? Where’d he fuck you, y/n?”

“I-in the driver's seat.”  He steps forward, and you don’t know if his movements are turtle-like or cheetah-like. You step back again and your back hits the counter. He swiftly moves his hand under your tiny nightgown and runs his finger up your folds. “Is that why you’re so wet?”

You shake your head yes and he looks down at your mouth. You can’t move when he steps closer again, crowding you. There’s a pause and then he leans down, pressing one hand flat on the cabinet above your head. He hesitates, teasing you a bit before you both indulge in the welcome touch of his lips against your own. 

He eases your mouth open with his tongue, sweet and slow. His free hand finds your hip, digging his nails into the skin through your nightgown, you gasp and he takes it as a chance to deepen the kiss. His tongue skates along your front teeth and it urges you to press forward and do the same to him. 

Felix has the things that he’s good at when it comes to pleasuring you but Hyunjin takes the award for best kisser. He kisses you so thoroughly and passionately that you find yourself lost in the exchange. 

Your hands come up to the back of his head, almost without your volition. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and when he bites down ever so slightly, a small moan escapes you. He lets go of your bottom lip then kisses it, like he’s soothing the bite mark there, before kissing you fully on the mouth again. Your body shivers in anticipation as you two fight for dominance with your tongues, a battle that you always lose. Getting more into it, you find yourself sucking on his tongue as he exhales heavily into your mouth. You hum, pleased at his reaction, taking control of the kiss for just a second, but of course that’s about to change.

 He pulled back before lifting you up on top of the counter and spreading your legs. He lifted his hand to the side of your neck and pressed his mouth to yours.

“Or are you wet because you want me to taste you? Is that what you’ve been thinking about, angel?” He asked, nipping at your bottom lip. “I saw the look on your face this afternoon. You wanted me to taste you after Felix did, didn’t you?” He said before running his tongue up over your lips. 

“You’re just a greedy girl aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I'm greedy.” You answered, brushing his lips against yours. “You and daddy fuck me so good that I can’t help it.” 

Hyunjin shook his head and dropped to his knees. He curled his arms around your thighs immediately lapping his tongue over your clit. 

“Ooh.” You moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair. “ Please, taste me until I’m shaking from coming so much.” You told him watching him suck around your clit. Hyunjin and you had a different type of relationship sexually. Felix was fun and giggly with a side of pounding and domination but Hyunjin was a mind fuck, He liked hearing you tell him how much you love what he’s doing. He wants to tease and bring you close to the edge over and over until either of you can’t go on any longer. Felix enjoyed you but Hyunjin savored you.

 “But his tongue isn’t your tongue.” You said, shaking your head as another wave of bliss crashed over you. The boys liked when you told them how  much better one was than the other. It was a game to them in the end, they’d playfully argue about who fucks you better, understands you better and god knows whatelse.

 “He doesn’t make me come as fast as you can.” You cooed, running your fingers through his hair. 

“It’s so good.” You moaned, pulling the hair at the crown of his head. He growled in response only driving you crazier. He circled his thumb around your clit while he worked his tongue inside of you. You leaned back against the cabinets, finally breaking your eye contact. He ran his tongue back up to your clit just circling it with firm pressure. Your thighs began to tremble as he brought you closer. You knew without a doubt in your mind that he was the best at eating you out. With a groan he began fingering you while sucking at your clit again and a moment later you were reaching your peak. You writhed and moaned and Hyunjin took in every moment of it. He stood up and yanked you closer to the edge of the counter before connecting your lips again. 

“Taste yourself, kitten” You do as you're told, sucking his lips to get a hint of your taste. “I want to fuck you so badly”

He pulls back and his dark eyes meet your heavy ones, a grin sneaks upon his lips as he takes in your lustful state, hungry for more of him. 

“But, that would be giving you what you want and we both know that you need to earn that.”

“Please I-”

“No.” With another kiss Hyunjin lets you down from the counter and as he’s towering over you once again he grabs you by the back of your neck. “I’ll take what I want when I can’t stand the anticipation anymore and if you touch yourself or Felix I will know and I will edge you for hours.” You stared up at him, your eyes still dusted with lust. Right now edging sounded better than not getting fucked by him but you knew that he meant business and you decided to try and be good for once in your bratty life. 

“Am I understood?”

“Yes sir”

[the-ottoman-empire-for-real]

*Aus/hun kisses Otto back on the cheek*

@the-austro-hungarian-empire

*Ottoman blushes a bit in response*

[lisenberry]

The mountain is you

Ch. 3: I hear your voice in my head

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Pain Play, Spanking, Temperature Play (shower), Spit, Voice Kink, Size Kink.

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

AO3

You sat back on your heels with your hands folded in your lap as he walked in.  His bootsteps seemed to vibrate across the wooden floor beneath your pillow.  A steady gait, with all of the suspense of a drum roll.

As you faced the high-backed chair, you could only make out the top of him until he made his way closer into view.  He was tall enough when you were standing up.  But on the ground at his feet, he eclipsed everything else around him.  There were no windows, no ceiling.  Just his thighs giving way to his waist, his arms and shoulders. 

Your head tipped back as far as it could just to take him all in, and even then, you came up short of meeting his eyes.

“Already off to a good start, I see.  You look lovely, sweetheart.”  He appraised you in a way that was both agonizingly slow and methodically brief, as he took off his jacket and slowly rolled up his sleeves

“Thank you, sir,” you answered, to the spot on his chest where his flannel shirt opened in a V.  It earned you a quick bob of his head in approval. 

He was starting you off easy.  That much was clear.  Like a teacher on the first day of school.  Throwing you softball questions to gauge how much of the summer reading you’d done over break.  How you responded determined how far he’d push you, and which side of him you’d get.

Could he see the goosebumps spreading across your skin at the mere sound of his voice?      

“Next time, I want you to look at me when you say it.”  He bent down only slightly, aiding your efforts just enough that you could obey. 

His clear eyes glinted patiently between his dark lashes.  Dark brows, dark beard.  They were like signal fires along an unknown path.  No choice but to give yourself up and follow.

“Yes, sir.”  A slight smile pulled at the corner of your lips as the first flutter of heat worked its way from your cheeks down to the echoing emptiness in the cradle of your hips.

“Good.  I like to begin with an inspection.  To assess your readiness, and to make sure your healed from the previous session.”

“I’m ready,” you quickly admitted when his bare hand grazed against the side of your cheek.  You turned into it, starved for even the slightest touch of his roughened palm.

“And I like to take my time exploring what’s mine,” he rumbled, firmly snagging a hold of your chin.  A gesture that simultaneously chastised you for speaking out of turn, and possessively staked his claim. 

You let out a surprised breath, and he took the opening as an invitation to slip his fingers inside your parted mouth.  Two at first, and you instinctively flattened your tongue and closed around their impressive girth. 

“That’s it.”  A short hum of approval followed, as your eyes slipped closed while you sucked them deeper into your throat.  “Don’t overexert yourself just yet.  There’s plenty of time to show me how much you can take.”

He let you savor him a bit before he pulled out with a wet pop of skin and spit, and you nearly fell forward at the loss.  You licked at the salty trail his skin left behind on your lips.  

“Turn around and bend over the stool.”  He pushed a plushily upholstered ottoman closer behind you.  It was the perfect height to kneel and bend against as your arms fell over the other side. 

“Open your legs wider, don’t be shy.”  He folded up the hem of your skirt and brazenly pawed at the meat of your ass in wide circles.  You felt the stretch and pull at your exposed holes, and you wondered if the pads of his fingers were abrasive enough to leave scratches behind. 

In the way his voice had already left etchings on your mind.

“Christ, you’re soaked.  Have you been touching yourself?”  It was barely even a question, the inflection missing from his even tone.

“Yes.”  He pulled his hands away at your answer, leaving a chill in its absence, intentionally.  “Sir,” you quickly corrected.

“Good girl.”  A harsh clap to your backside was your reward.  It smarted with a sharpness that caught you off guard.  He wasn’t taking it easy anymore.  “What do think about when you play with my sweet little cunt?”  His hand returned between your legs, and with it, a probing forefinger glided along the sensitive split of your folds.

You jumped at the sensation, pulling away from the intimacy of it.  How long had it been since you were touched like this?  Ghost had only ever let you use toys on yourself.  Those were the rules, for your safety and his.  Where were the rules now?

This is what you wanted...

“This, sir,” you answered with more certainty than you felt.  Another slap, and your muscles melted into the ottoman and your legs parted wider to brace for the next impact. 

But it didn’t come.  Instead, he pulled back and cleaned off his slick smeared fingers along the side of your thigh.

“This, sweetheart, is just a warm-up,” his low, sardonic voice crooned, as his hands snagged in your hair and arched you back far enough to see him towering behind you.  The back of your head hit the front of his thighs.  “I’ll try to take it slow this time, but no promises.”

Oh fuck, he was good, you shuddered at the thought.  The unknown.  The waiting.  The surprise.  He ticked the boxes of your kink like he wrote the book himself.  Like he’d been paying attention.  You almost broke scene in your gratitude, but you kept your eyes trained up at him, wondering if he could see it written all over your face.

He must’ve, because for a moment, he broke too.  A subtle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, a brief softness that you would’ve missed if you blinked.  Just before he bent down lower, and spit on your face.

He released your hair as you sputtered in shock when it hit your closed lips with a warm splat.  Your tongue darted out to taste the small piece of himself he offered to you.  Not a kiss so much as a wad of spit on the palm to seal the deal.  A promise to take care of you.

As you moved to catch the drop that rolled down your chin, he took hold of your wrists and held them above your head.  With a quickness that left your mind spinning, he knotted a loop of smooth rope around each one, binding them together like a sturdy set of cuffs.  He slung another loop over the exposed wooden beam along the ceiling.

Handy, you thought as he tied it off with a slipknot that left you hanging up on your tip toes.  Once again, the ottoman slid underneath you, but this time you kneeled on it.  He eyed you up and down, making sure you were secure before letting go of the steadying arm at your waist.

You weren’t weightless.  You knew this about yourself.  No one picked you up and carried you around because you were so tiny and pocket-sized.  You were just a woman, and hadn’t met someone big enough to throw you around like you were made of air.

You had substance.  You were made of things.  Matter and atoms, and particles, or whatever.  Flesh and bones.

So, when you hung there suspended, it felt like a dream, and all you could do was focus on the parts of you that felt contact.  Your wrists.  Your knees.  The ropes that cut into your skin, the plushness that kept you from hitting the floor.  You established your center of gravity and braced for the worst with an anticipatory thrumming low in your belly.  Deep within the cradle of your hips.

Nothing would pitch you over.  You could take anything. 

True to his word of being honest about what he was going to do, he flashed the paddle in front of you.  As wide as his hand, it was made of wood and wrapped in leather.  It made Ghost’s crop look like a feather duster.

You let out a clarifying breath through your teeth, licking at your spit-soaked lips to find that tether.  To his promise that burned sweet like spearmint and menthol tobacco.

“Anything you want say before we start?”  His rough-edged voice posed both challenge and threat.

It was the first stop on the train, you reminded yourself.  And he was making sure you knew you could get off anytime.

“No, sir—”

The words barely left your lips before he delt the first blow.  The slap of leather to skin echoed through the house, bounced off the windows and the walls. 

You didn’t scream, not yet, but the sting welled in your eyes to match the blooming fire on your ass.  When the second one swiftly followed, and even harder than the first, you nearly swallowed your tongue to stifle a gasp, wondering if he wanted to hear you. 

But you weren’t an actress.  This wasn’t for show.  If he wanted to hear you scream, to see you cry, he had to earn it.  Right there alongside you.

The third and fourth came slower and with slightly less force, but the fifth nearly rattled your teeth. 

“Oh, fuck!”  You finally exclaimed, no longer able to blink back the tears.  

“You liked that one, did you?”  He had the nerve to laugh behind you.  Was he emboldened by your feedback?  Was he enjoying this as much as you?

It wasn’t long before you lost track of how many whacks you’d taken.  He didn’t bother counting them aloud like some clock ticking away the time.  There wasn’t a limit.  The only one who could stop it was you.

“Had enough, yet?”  He checked in, winded from his own exertion. 

“No, sir.”  The words came slower, as if you had to pluck them out of a messily discarded pile in some dark corner, the more your strength drained away.  You were so close.  Right there on the brink.  You could see it like a trail disappearing over the horizon.

A steadying hand found your shoulder, squeezed warm and firm, as he moved closer behind you.  Enough to whisper in your ear.

“I’m not going to stop until you break.”

With the last command, and a final searing crack, you felt the fresh gush of squirt as you finally let go.  The scream you’d been waiting for.  That maybe he had been, too.

The sweet release that stole your breath and your mind, and dragged you all the way under.  And he hadn’t even touched you.  There was no vibrator strapped to your thigh.  Just a gentle hand on your shoulder.  The polarity to the abuse on your ass.  Nerves flayed and blown wide, you still needed the one thing that would pull you back together.

“Touch me, please,” you whimpered, with a voice hoarse from crying.  “I need to come.”  Deep in the subspace, you sagged limply against your bonds. 

“I can’t deny you anything, sweetheart.  Not when you ask so nicely.”

He pulled the quick release on the rope and caught you against his chest.  Sitting back on his chair, he held you facing forward onto his lap.  You were boneless, propped up only where he held you tightly in his grip.  Careful not to hold your neck, he instead wrapped his forearm under your breasts, cupping one in his palm through the thin silk fabric of your slip and pinning your bound wrists to your chest.

His other hand started at your mound of curls and trailed lower, parting the folds to slowly reach the tender bud at its apex.  He brushed it once, twice, before reaching lower.  Swirling circles around your opening, tracing along the trembling rim before gliding back up again. 

You squirmed weakly against his hips, desperate to touch him back.  To guide his hand where you wanted him to go, but you were helpless to do anything but weather his patience.  To be led at the pace he set.

His beard grazed the top of your shoulder and along the side of your neck.  In your addled brain, you imagined that he kissed you there, that his lips and tongue and teeth met skin.  That the ragged breaths of his need matched your own.

As his thumb worked the pearl of your clit in faster, deliberate circles, those thick fingers you suckled earlier slid deep into your walls.  The achingly tight stretch, combined with the precious friction brought you to a roaring climax of moaned oaths and sounds you’d never heard before.

“You did so good.”  You felt his hot breath against your shoulder as you shattered around him, along with a quick, supportive peck of his soft lips.  Too soft and too brief to register over the riot in your blood.  “I’m feeling generous.  Let’s try something else.”

A pouty whine of doubt was all you could offer, still in the incomparable thrall of an orgasm in subspace.  You couldn’t say no.  So deep under his sway, you’d give him anything.  Let him do anything.  There was no room for resistance in that vast, cloudy place. 

But you didn’t know what else was left.  What laid ahead was too far beyond your reach.

No thoughts, only sensations.  You couldn’t even focus enough to see beyond the fog.  All that held you up was the sound of his voice.  The strength of his arms as he lifted and turned your dead weight, hooking your wrists around his neck.  His hand never leaving your throbbing cunt.

“None of that.  You’ll like it, I promise.  But you’ll have to trust me.”  He curled his fingers forward, hooking deeper in a way that had you muffling your wild shrieks into his chest.  “You do, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, until he pulled his fingers away.  You clenched down harder and sank against them, but he slipped them free despite the protest.

“Words, remember?  Need to know you’re still with me.”  He swatted your cheek with the same sticky, wet palm.  Not enough to hurt, but it pulled you back out just enough to speak.

“Yes,” you answered, biting your lip to see if it was still there.  That you weren’t just a cloud of disembodied mist.  “I trust you,” as another slap opened your eyes to meet his. 

He really expected you to keep up the formalities after what just happened?  The world was a different place.  Surely the continents had shifted, and the oceans had dried up.

But there he was, you noted as he came into focus.  You hadn’t just imagined him.  Those signal fires lit up to guide you once more through the dark.  There was a freckle on his nose.  A dimple just above his beard.  He seemed to pause as well, and you realized how firmly he was pinched with restraint.  How tightly he held his own need for release. 

If it was a word he wanted, you’d give it to him.

“Sir,” you finally finished, with a small smile pulling at your tingling cheek.

“There’s a girl,” he said with a low chuckle, as he carried you to a different room.

One that smelled like sandalwood and citrus, with walls of such a bright white that you buried your face further into his shoulder to shield your eyes from it.  The fuzzy, light flannel was a soothing contrast to the sting at your backside.  It still pulsed and burned with each course of blood through the muscle and fat.

“You made quite a mess of yourself, I’m afraid.  Need to clean you up.”  The sound of creaking metal and the spray of water were harsh to your ears.

A strangled sound escaped your lips, half a cry, half a whimper.  This was going to hurt.  Your overexerted pussy perked up at the prospect of it.  It was a devious little thing, swollen and puffy with eagerness that your body could survive another round of punishment.

No, it wasn’t punishment, you corrected yourself.  It was what you needed.

He set you down slowly onto the closed toilet seat, untied your hands and pulled the silk shift up over your head like a doll being undressed and put to bed.  The sleek porcelain was so cool against your bare skin that you shivered at the loss of its paltry heat. 

“I’m right here.”

Keeping his eyes on you and his hands not far away, lest you fall over, he arranged a chair made of PVC pipe into the open shower area and stripped from his own clothes with a quickness that spoke to his own enthusiasm.  It was either that, or a natural efficiency with which he did all things. 

Pants, shirt, boots.  Until all that was left was the dark hair that covered him in varying degrees of masculine thickness from head to toe, and his briefs.  An erection tented the fabric to such a painful degree that you reached out for it, only to be distracted away.

“This one’s all about you.  Don’t tempt me to change my mind,” he slanted you a look that guaranteed you’d regret it as he mouthed at the back of your hand absently.

Two kisses?  You could get greedy for them if you weren’t careful.

But before you could muster any disappointment, he had you by the arms again and positioned you over the makeshift chair.  You sat astride it, with your ass facing just out of the stream of water and an opening below for easy access between your legs.  Your tits draped over the top.

He kneeled in front you, all the better to watch you to submit to him, when your rational brain was clamoring to find your safe word.  Abraded skin meeting hot water was a next level consequence that you weren’t prepared to face with him.

You usually did that part alone with a bottle of wine, your comfort candle, and your favorite movie waiting for you on the softness of your sofa.

But the endorphins that kept you down in the subspace also kept you pliant, giddy with desire.  Fearless.  Reckless, you would’ve argued, if you’d been in some other state of mind. 

Not when you still felt the aftershocks of bliss, and the rawness of your paddling.  Instead, you did your best not to flinch as he directed the steaming water along your skin.  Where you expected a searing torture, there was instead a satisfying burn.  Just shy of scalding.  Just shy of too much.  It heated you up like a cauterizing iron to a wound.  A healing type of hurt. 

Unlike a misplaced hand shying away from a hot stove, you leaned into it.  Arched against it like a bear to tree bark.  That itch you’d never been able to reach.  Dark and subterranean, it skittered around underneath, unable to be caught by the light.

And just when you thought you’d had enough—when the nerves began to die out under the overwhelming blaze—he turned it up hotter still.  A new wave of pleasure and pain, as the backs of his knuckles caressed the needy patch of your sex. 

Violence on one side, and serenity on the other.  Like two sides of a coin flipping end over end into an infinite universe.  It built a force within you that finally collapsed on itself, consuming you whole.  Slower, and somehow more shocking in its intensity than the first.

“Is this how stars are made?”  The last dizzying thought before you slipped beyond reach.

You awoke as if from a dream some time later, with your head in his lap and wrapped in a velvety soft gray robe.  Big enough to fit you like a blanket, it must’ve been his.  The clarity hit you fast, and you sat up with a start.  The waiting surge of adrenaline that always followed a scene found you well-rested. 

“I am so sorry.”

“Easy now.  Here, drink this.”  He adjusted himself to move with you, not letting you go as you tried to bolt, and tipped a bottle full of water towards your lips.

It even had a straw.  How thoughtful. 

“Thank you,” you added, not able to meet his assessing gaze.  Had you even said that yet?  Where were your manners?

“You’re welcome,” he answered breezily.  As if not really knowing what to say himself.

Probably because you squirted all over his expensive looking ottoman and said weird things about turning into a constellation when you came your brains out.

“I don’t want to keep you any longer.  I didn’t mean to take up your whole day.”  You looked at the clock and couldn’t believe it was already evening.

How long had he sat there just holding you?  Your empty stomach reminded you of the food you’d meant to stop for on the way home.

“Are you hungry?  I can order dinner if you want to stay a bit longer.”  He sounded more confident after you’d drained the water and handed it back to him.

You never wanted to leave the cocoon he’d wrapped you in, but it was best to take it slow as you stood to find your discarded clothes tucked behind the sofa. 

“I actually made plans, but next time, yeah?”  You assured him, when he looked at you so vulnerably that you reached for him.  It was only a brief touch to his forearm, but he seemed surprised by it.  “Will you send me your availability?”

A shitty way to say, “You just changed my life,” but you hoped there would be a next time.  That there was still more you could do for each other. You still had to hold up your end of the bargain.

“My calendar’s wide open, sweetheart.”

[daddy-dins-girl]

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

New Cowboy Luci snippet

I shall give you just a teeny itty bitty snippet of the new Cowboy Lucifer smut I just finished, y'all gotta wait for the full thing ;)

No active warnings, only suggestive~

“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you would come in from the farm on time, Luci,” you scolded as you finished tying the last knot on his wrists. "I don't think I ask for much."

This was the third night in a row your hardworking husband has missed dinner with you. You let it slide the first night. The second night you gave him a gentle reminder to not overwork himself. But tonight was the last straw. A third night of eating alone with a cold plate of food sitting across the table from you. You loved him dearly, but you hated that his priorities didn’t seem to be in order. You were going to make sure he learned his lesson one way or another. He tried to butter you up as he usually did when he came in from work late, knowing full well what he'd done. You feigned a smile and told him not to give it another thought. You told him to get comfortable and that you would join him upstairs soon. But when you walked into your room with your rope in hand, he gulped. He knew damn well that he was in trouble. You sat him down on the ottoman and wrapped your ropes around his hands and wrists, pinning his arms behind his back, effectively rendering him helpless against your ‘punishment’.

“Darlin’, I-I’m sorry, time just gets away from me sometimes! I-I would never do anything to upset you,” Lucifer stuttered. “P-Please, have mercy…”

You checked the tightness of your ropes before standing in front of your husband, towering over him in his subdued state. “Oh, I’m not upset with you! But since you’ve just been working so hard lately, I thought it’d be mighty kind of me if I helped you relax.” You brought your hand to his chin and had him meet your intense gaze. “Do you want me to help you relax, sweetheart?” you asked, knowing all too well that there was only one answer he could give you.

“Y-yes,” Lucifer responded meekly.

[realdramalove69]

Part 3 of Back to Back to Back Pregnancy

Anna may have only been five months into her sixth pregnancy but she looked and felt months overdue. Every step was slow and concentrated, her focus on keeping herself upright and steady as she carried her babies to their high chairs and bassinets for their morning bottles. Two babies were already latched to her, her breasts constantly leaking as her children cried for their breakfast.

Around her, many more toddlers and children bounced and ran around, constantly running in Anna’s blind spots, her belly concealing most of her field of vision. She grunted as she sat heavily on the couch, her belly needing to be set on an ottoman so she could find some form of comfort and relief. As the babies finished eating, one of the new nannys Dave hired quickly placed another where their sibling had been.

True to his word, Dave hired four nanny’s to help Anna care for their exponentially growing family. In spite of the extra help, Anna was still determined to stay in her feet and care for her kids. Whether she was trying to prove a point to herself or Dave she wasn’t yet sure, but the idea of being confined to her bed made her anxious. She knew it was bound to happen (she was already struggling to move from kitchen to living room), but having control over some of her life was important to her. She didn’t want to become a baby factory, despite the fact she had already pumped out 51 kids in less than six years.

The brood within her kicked roughly as she felt a couple of her five year olds slap the front of her stretched belly.

“Boys,” Anna grunted. “Boys please don’t you’re making your brothers and sisters unhappy.”

“But mama,” one of the boys replied. “Your belly sounds like a drum.” He slapped it again as a nanny came and corralled them away to the dining room for breakfast before school.

Dave took his time coming down the stairs from getting ready, the screams and cries of his many children making him smile. When he reached the first floor he stood in the doorway of the living room and stared at his fecund wife. She sat there, overflowing from the couch, her thighs as thick as tree trunks and her arms flabby from excess food she was eating. Her eyes were closed as the babies continued to suck on her milk filled breasts. They looked like soft pillows but Dave knew they were firm and sore.

But nothing compared to her belly. It stretched five feet from her torso, her belly button flush with her tight and stretch marked skin. Dave could see from here his many babies moving inside of her, their feet and hands pressing, as though they were trying to escape the confines of her cramped womb.

Anna moaned in discomfort. Breastfeeding always made the babies in her belly more active and with 13 babies needing to be fed the litter in her womb were constantly moving. Dave walked over and massaged her belly, his hands pressing on the large babies within her.

“Dave please,” Anna huffed. “There’s so little room in there.”

In spite of her pleas her stomach betrayed her as it growled with hunger.

“Sounds like someone’s not full enough yet,” Dave replied, an evil smile on his face. “Tanya?”

One of the nanny’s, a young blond woman in her 20s, came into the living room.

“Yes, Mr. Stevens?” Tanya replied.

“Bring my wife her breakfast. And she’s not to move until she finishes. We need to make sure she feeds these growing babies.”

“Of course, Mr. Stevens.” Tanya went back into the kitchen and a moment later came back with a cart filled with food. Pancakes, French toast, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast with butter, a whole gallon of milk and a pitcher of orange juice, plus a tray of pastries and fruit.

Anna rubbed her growling stomach, the feeling of being overfull quickly being replaced by a ravenous hunger. Her babies responded in kind, kicking her aggressively until the first plate was placed on her chest and she gave in to her cravings.

“Eat up, babe,” Dave said as he rubbed her belly. “I have to get to a meeting but I’ll be home before dinner tonight.”

“Mhm,” Anna grunted, too focused on her meal and nursing her babies to reply to her husband.

Dave loved how much the babies were taking over her brain and body, her mind was always focused on gestating even if she didn’t realize it. The formula Dave mad had worked beautifully and he had big plans for it at work.

Anna barely registered that her husband had left her once again to care for their children, but she at least had help this time. And now that her older kids were starting school it would start to get easier as well.

“Mrs. Stevens the babies are all down for the nap and the elder kids are off to school.” Tanya came back to clean up the breakfast Anna had finished in record time. “Would you like anything else?”

Anna waved her off. “No, thank you. I just need to start getting to my chores for the day.”

Tanya watched as the overly fecund woman shifted her weight forward, attempting to heave herself up onto her trembling feet. Anna reached under her gut and lifted herself off the ottoman, letting it hit the soft carpet so she could roll on her stomach and stand up.

“M-Mrs. Stevens!” Tanya stammered. “Please, let us handle things you don’t need to be on your feet in your condition!”

Anna grunted, sweat dripping down her face as she pushed her hands into her lower back and lifted her belly off the ground. She wobbled for a moment before finding her center of gravity again. She took a few steps towards the kitchen, Tanya following.

“I’m fine,” Anna grunted. “I can take care of my house.”

In spite of Tanya and the other nanny’s assurances of help, Anna insisted on doing her chores and taking care of the children. She accepted she could no longer cook or do dishes with her belly in the way, but she could still do laundry, sweep, and take care of her babies.

Slowly she would waddle around, a baby always in one arm and her other occupied with sweeping or trying to fold clothing. After an hour of trying to clean the kitchen she finally sat in a wide wooden chair, the legs of it creaking as she tried to give her feet a moment of relief.

“Ooh, please stop kicking mommy while she’s trying to work,” Anna whined. She couldn’t reach the kicking storm at the front of her belly.

Before she could get up and get back to cleaning, the nanny’s came in with the hungry babies, ready to feed again. And so Anna’s day went on, feeding and changing diapers between loads of never ending laundry and picking up after her kids.

Soon enough it was dinner time and Dave was home once again, bounding into the dining room where his gravid wife was nursing while trying to eat a plate of spaghetti. The nanny’s were fighting with the other kids, trying to get them to eat as they cried and threw food.

Dave kissed his kids on the head as he made his way to his wife, eager to share the good news.

“You’re home,” Anna said. “Can you take these two and hand me the girls.”

Dave grabbed the two oversized infants off her chest and replaced them with another pair. Anna shifted them into a comfortable position on her stomach before returning to the never ending plate of pasta on her chest.

“I have some news,” Dave said. “The higher ups at work liked the results of the new fertility treatments I’ve been working on and they gave me a grant to start human trials.”

“That’s great news!” Anna feigned interest. She hated Dave’s work, knowing how focused he was on her and her hyper fertile womb. She could tell where this was going to go and she knew she was powerless to say no.

“I want you to be in the human trials.”

Anna stopped eating, even though her babies still wanted the food. She looked up at her husband and saw the almost sadistic smile on his face.

“Dave I—“

“Think about it,” he continued, a craze look in his eye. “And we’ll talk before bed.”

He kissed her belly many times before grabbing his plate of food and sitting with his children.

Anna took her time getting the kids down for bed, dreading the conversation that was to come. Eventually she waddled down the tight hallway to her bedroom, her wife hips and belly brushing the sides of the already widened door frame.

“I’ll have to call the contractor to get the doors widened again,” Dave said as he watched his wife walked towards their bed.

He was transfixed by her as she struggled to get into the bed, having to hoist her belly onto the mattress before crawling into her seated position in her nest of pillows. Dave watched her belly rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath, the infants pressing on her lungs.

“I love you like this.” Dave rubbed her belly. “You’re the most fertile woman in the world and I want to see you push yourself further.”

“Dave please, I don’t think I can get bigger than this.”

“I have ways to help, don’t worry. I would never let you be hurt. I love you.”

“You love this!” Anna shook her womb as she cried. “You love my womb and my belly you don’t love me.”

Dave put his arms around Anna the best he could, brushing his hands through her tangled brown hair, kissing her gently.

“Anna I love you and your womb. I love that you gave me a family and I love how much you care for our kids. You’re the most amazing woman ever and I want to help you become even more amazing.”

Anna wasn’t completely sold by Dave’s words of kindness. She looked down at her belly and thought of her many other children, the choice made for her.

“I’ll do it.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Can you explain the Iran-Israel situation please?

Alright, let's get to it. Please note that I'm writing this on mobile during my lunch break, so I can't include reference/source links as much as I'd like. Thankfully, most of what I'm going to be telling you should be easily located by searching for an article on one of the following: APNews, Reuters, BBC Global News Podcast, Democracy Now!, NPR, or The New York Times. Long-term background is probably best found in videos by the YouTube channels Real Life Lore or tldr global news, or on Wikipedia if you prefer text.

The short version: Israel attacked Iran's consulate in Syria to get at some of the military commanders that were there, which is legally equivalent to attacking Iran itself. Iran responded by sending about 300 bombs at Israel, most of which were shot down in transit. Given that they still called it a success, even though it seems only one person was even hurt, my understanding is that it's very likely that they only intended the rockets to be a show of force, rather than an actual escalation, because Iran can't afford a war right now.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post OR this post.

The long version:

Okay, let's start with some background on Israel, then Iran. This is... a lot, so if you already know the broad strokes skip down to 2023.

Israel was established following WWII by the English and French, following borders the two countries had secretly drawn up decades earlier in the Sykes-Picot agreement. The intent was to give the Jewish people a place to go... or, depending on who you ask, a place to send them. Their ancestral homeland was viewed as the best choice, sort of like a deportation millennia after a diaspora. Given that WWII had just ended by the time Sykes-Picot was actually put into effect, 'getting out of Europe' was something a lot of Jews were given to agree with.

The Arab world was not happy, as that land had belonged to the Ottomans for centuries, and had long since 'naturalized' to being Arab. I'm not going to pretend to know the nuances to when people do or do not consider Palestine to have been its own nation; it was an Ottoman state until WWI, at which point it came under British control for just under three decades, and that period is known as the British Mandate of Palestine; it ended after WWII, with the creation of Israel. Palestine's land and people have sort of just been punted around from one colonizer to another for centuries.

Iran is the current form of what was once Persia. They were an empire for a very long time, and were a unitary monarchy up until the early 20th century; in 1925, Iran elected a Prime Minister who was then declared the monarch. The following several decades had Iran's monarchy slowly weakened, and occasionally beset by foreign interventions, including a covert coup by the US and UK in 1953. The country also became more corrupt throughout the 1970s due to economic policy failing to control inflation in the face of rising oil prices.

In 1979, there was a revolution that overthrew the monarchy and the elected government, replacing the system with a theocracy and declaring Iran to be an Islamic Republic, with the head of state being a religious authority, rather than an elected one. This was not popular with... most countries. 1980 saw the closure of all universities (reopened in 1983 with government-approved curriculums), as well as the taking of over fifty American hostages from the US Embassy in Iran. You may have heard about that in the context of Ronald Reagan encouraging Iran to keep the hostages until the end of Carter's term in order to force the election.

So, the West didn't like having an Islamic state because it claims to like democracy, and also because the Islamic state was explicitly anti-American and this has some Bad Effects on oil prices. The Soviets didn't like having an Islamic State because a theocracy goes directly against a lot of communist values (or at least the values they claim to have), and weakened any influence their supposedly secular union could have on Iran and the wider middle east. The other countries in the Arab world, many of them still monarchies, didn't like the Islamic republic because if the revolution spread, then it was possible their monarchies would be overthrown as well.

(Except Oman, which is not worried, but that's the exception, not the rule.)

This is not a baseless worry, because Iran has stated that this is its goal for the Arab world. Overthrow the monarchies, overthrow the elected governments, Islamic Rule for everyone. That is the purpose of its proxies, like Hezbollah (Lebanon), the Houthis (Yemen), and Hamas (Palestine), along with less well-known groups like the Salafi Jihadists in Mali, who are formally under the umbrella of al-Quaeda, which Iran denies having any relation to but is suspected of funding. In areas where these proxy groups have gained power, they are liable to enact hard Shari'a law such as has happened in Northern Mali and other parts of the Sahel region.

While other conflicts have occurred in these countries, I think the above is most relevant.

Israel has repeatedly attacked, or been attacked by, other nations in the middle east, as they are viewed as having taken over land that is not theirs, and as being a puppet of the US government. The biggest conflicts have been 1947-1948, 1968/1973, and 2014.

And then, of course, 2023.

Now, Iran, more than any other nation in the Middle East, hates Israel. They have for a very long time, viewing them as an affront to the goal of spreading Islam across the whole of the middle east, and as being a front and a staging ground for the United States and other Western powers. Two common refrains in the slogans of Iran and its proxies are "Death to America" and "Death to Israel."

Due to Iran's military power and virulence towards Israel, the United States has been funneling money to Israel for decades. It has more generally been to defend itself against the Arab world at large, but it has narrowed over the decades to being about Iran and its proxies as relations have normalized with other nations like Egypt and Saudi Arabia.

Cue October 7th, 2023. Hamas invades Israeli towns, kills some people, and takes others as hostage. Israel retaliates, and the conflict ramps up into what is by now tens of thousands of dead, some half of which are children.

In this time, Hamas's allies are, by definition, Iran and the other proxy forces. Hezbollah, being in Lebanon, share a border with Israel's north. They have been trading rocket fire across the border in waves for most of the past six months. The Houthis, down in Yemen, claim to be attacking the passing cargo ships in order to support Palestine. Given that the attacks often seem indiscriminate, and that the Houthi's control over their portion of Yemen is waning in the face of their poor governance, this is... debatable. It's their official reason, but given that "let's attack passing ships, claiming that we only attack Israeli or American ships and that it is to support Palestine" is rallying support domestically for their regime, it does seem to be more of a political move to garner support at home than about supporting Palestine.

Iran, however, has not attacked Israel. They've spoken out about it, yes, but they haven't done anything because nobody wants a regional war. Nobody can afford it right now. Iran is dealing with a domestic crisis due to oil subsidies bleeding the states' coffers dry, and the aging Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the leader of Iran, refusing to pick a successor. They are looking at both an economic crisis and succession crisis, and a regional war would fuck up both situations further. Iran funds most of its proxies, and they can't do that, and fight a war on top of it, while their economy is in its current state. Pure self preservation says they don't want a war, especially with the ongoing unrest that's been going on for... well, basically since the revolution, but especially since the death of Mahsa Amini.

Meanwhile, in Israel, Netanyahu has been looking at corruption charges and legal issues since before the Hamas attack. It's generally agreed that if Israel were to hold new elections right now, he would lose and be replaced, and also immediately taken to court. Netanyahu wants to stay in power, and as long as the war on Hamas lasts, he is unlikely to get voted out. A change in leadership in the middle of a war is rarely a good idea for any country, and he's banking on that.

However, the war on Hamas rests on the shoulders of American money and supplies. Without that military support, Israel cannot fight this war, and America... is losing patience.

Officially, America and most of the western world have been telling Israel to not fucking escalate for the majority of the war.

There have been implied threats, more or less since Schumer's big speech about how Israel needs a new election, of American legislators putting conditions on any future aid. There have even been rumblings of aid being retracted entirely if Israel follows through on invading Raffah.

So...

American aid to Israel has, for a very long time, been given in the name of defending Israel against Iran and its proxies.

Israel has been fighting this war against Hamas for six months, killing what is by now innumerable civilians, on the power of US military aid.

Netanyahu benefits from the continued war due to domestic troubles.

Iran does not want a regional war, or really any big war, due to its own domestic troubles.

The US is, in theory, losing patience with Israel and threatening to pull the plug on unconditional support. It's very "we gave you this to fight Iran. Stop attacking civilians. If you keep attacking civilians, then you're going to have to rely on what we already gave you to fight off Iran so that you won't keep wasting it on civilians."

Israel... attacks Iran, prompting a response, and is now talking about escalating with Iran.

I am not explicitly saying that it looks to me like Israel, which is already fighting a war on two physical fronts and even more political/economic ones, has picked a fight with Iran so that America feels less like it is able to withdraw support.

I just... am finding it hard to understand why Israel, which is in fact fighting both Hamas and Hezbollah, would attack the Iranian consulate in Syria otherwise. They can't actually afford to fight this war, escalating to a full regional conflict, on a third front.

Not without pressuring American into keeping the faucet of military funding open at full blast.

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