Aww Thank You So Much!

Aww thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Goober

Summary: On a stormy night, a dog makes a dash for the garage. Frankie is insistent, like all dad's, they are not keeping that damn dog.

Warnings: Cussing, fluff, puppy madness, Nora seems to need her own warning in this fic cause she is sassy!

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday!!! Another installment of the Parents to Lovers AU! Thank you so much @noxturnalpascal for betaing for me ❤️❤️ @jay-zzle, my side kick for all these stories, my personal moodboard maker, one of my best friends that I would have never even met without Pedro Pascal existing, once again thank you for making the moodboard AND the other thing(wait til y'all get to the end)

Masterlist||AO3||Parents to Lovers

divider provided by @saradika-graphics

The thunder was getting closer and closer. You can smell the incoming rain on the air as you close the kitchen window.

“Girls!” You shout, approaching the living room doorway “Did you remember to bring your bikes in the garage?”

“I did!” Missy says quickly, returning to the game on her tablet.

“Uhh…” Nora hesitates, fingers fidgeting against her own tablet, “I forgot.”

“Nora! How many times have we talked about this?”

“Sorry,” she shrugs, “I just forgot.”

You groan, putting your shoes on and making your way to the garage. Frankie won’t be home for another hour or else you’d send him outside to get the bike. Opening the garage door you see the rain already starting to come down in sheets. Thankfully, Nora’s bike isn’t that far from the open door, but running towards it you see something dash past you into the garage.

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing the bike and wheeling it into the garage, “Now I get to deal with whatever creature decided to run into here for shelter from the storm. Thanks Nora, you’re the best!”

A clap of thunder sounds just then, causing you to jump, and you hear a whimper at the edge of the room. You reach for the switch on the wall and when the overhead lights come on you see a dog huddled in the corner.

“Hey little baby,” you say sweetly, crouching down and stretching out your hand, “It’s just a little thunder, nothing to be scared about.”

The dog slowly begins to move closer to your outstretched hand. You notice the floppy ears, short legs and long body. Another clap of thunder and the thing darts over, shaking and whimpering.

“Hi there,” you coo, “Let's get you some place warm and dry, huh? That sound good?”

The dog’s tail starts to wag a little as you continue talking to it, grabbing a towel as you begin to attempt to dry the dog off.

“Are we a boy or a girl?” You ask, lifting a leg to check, “Congrats! It’s a girl!” You say to no one but yourself.

The dog begins licking your face as you wipe her paws more to get the mud off.

“Aww, you’re just a sweet girl, aren’t you?” You coo, as the dog continues to lick your face, “Yes, yes you are! Okay, I think we’re good to go inside now.”

You gently scoop the dog up in the towel and carry her inside, bringing her into the living room.

“Is that what I think it is?!” Nora shrieks, smacking Missy’s arm to get her attention from her tablet.

“Hey, calm down, she doesn’t like loud noises,” you explain, “This little girl ran into the garage because of the storm.”

“She’s so cute!” Missy excitedly whispers, “Does she have a name?”

“Well I don’t see a collar so I don’t know,” you say, placing the dog in the middle of the living room.

The dog’s tail begins to wag harder when the girls slowly slide off the couch to approach her, and you notice her peeing on the carpet. 

“Shit,” you hiss, quickly going to the laundry room for a towel, laying it on the carpet to soak up the mess. She’s much more enthusiastic seeing the girls than she was seeing you. You sit on the couch watching the girls interact with the puppy.

“Hi,” Missy whispers, reaching her hand out for the dog to sniff, “You’re very pretty.”

“Yes,” Nora agrees, stretching her arm out, “Pretty and smooshy!”

The dog eats up the attention stretching out on the floor to show her chest and belly. Missy and Nora begin petting her, taking turns rubbing her tummy and scratching behind her ears.

“Momma, what kind of dog is she?” Nora asks, looking at you.

“It looks like she’s what’s called a basset hound,” you grin. You’d always wanted one growing up and thought that whoever owned this girl was the luckiest person in the world. You needed to call Frankie before he got home, that way he could maybe stop somewhere to get a collar, leash, and dog food. You pull your phone from your pocket, tapping on his contact info.

“Hey babe,” he sighed, “Think we’re almost done here and then I’ll be home.”

“So,” you say, getting up and walking to the kitchen so the girls wouldn’t hear, “I need you to do something for me before you come home.”

“What kind of ice cream do you want now?” He laughs.

“It’s not a craving this time,” you whisper into the phone, hand rubbing across your barely there bump, that news you hadn’t shared yet with the girls, “Not a bad idea though, Ben and Jerry’s Salted Caramel.”

“Sure thing,” he says, “I’ll be sure to ge—“

“No babe,” you interrupt, “Seriously that’s not what I was calling about. I need you to get some puppy food, a leash, and a collar.”

“Do what now?”

“Puppy food, a leash and a collar,” you repeat, “and the Ben and Jerry’s! I’ll text you what I said, love you, bye!” You say quickly before hanging up and texting him the list. Your phone pings a second later.

Frankie: What the fuck?!

—

“Babe,” Frankie shouts, entering the kitchen, “I got the st—“

The dog ran into the kitchen, looking up at Frankie, giving a single bark.

“Well, hello,” he says, dropping the small bag of dog food on the table, hesitantly the dog inches closer to Frankie, tail tucked between her legs, sniffing his boot.

“Dad, look!” Missy says, pointing at the dog.

“I see,” Frankie says, eyebrows raised.

“Can we keep her?!” Nora asks, bouncing from foot to foot.

“Absolutely not!” Frankie says, putting his hands on his hips, “She looks pretty young, probably has a family around here somewhere.”

“Obviously they don’t care about her though,” Nora argues, “They left her out in a storm!”

“Yeah,” Missy agrees, nodding her head, “That’s just mean to do to a baby dog!”

“Now, now girls,” you say, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “Sometimes dogs get loose when they’re scared and just run off.”

“We’ll make some flyers and post them around the neighborhood,” Frankie says, “Until we can find the owners we’ll make sure the little thing’s fed and taken care of.”

“She’s not just a thing, Frankie,” Nora grumbles, stomping past you to the living room, the dog and Missy following right behind her.

Frankie takes in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. You walk towards him, grabbing him around his waist and pulling him close, breathing him in.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whisper into his neck, placing a small kiss there.

“Why’s she gotta be so damn stubborn like her momma?” Frankie hums, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Everyone says she looks like her dad so guess that means she has to have my attitude,” you say, shrugging your shoulders with a laugh.

—

“Are you sure we can’t just keep her?” Missy asks while you’re stapling one of the flyers to a pole.

It’s been a couple days since the dog arrived. You’d gotten the flyers made and now you were all walking around the area with the dog and posting them up in numerous places. You’d already hit every business downtown that you could. Now it was time to hit the neighborhoods around you.

“I’m sure,” Frankie said in a stern tone, “We are not keeping her.”

“But I already picked out a name,” Nora pipes up, flicking the leash lightly in her hands like a whip, “Goober!”

“Nora don’t do that with the leash,” you say, “You could hurt her.”

“Don’t name her!” Frankie groans, “She’s not our dog!”

“Why Goober?” Missy laughs, as you all continue to walk.

“Well,” Nora says, looking down at the dog who cocks her head to the side like she was waiting for the answer as well, “Just look at her! Mom always says I’m a goober when I do something funny and she just looks funny!”

“I like it,” Missy says with a small smile.

“No,” Frankie said, “Her name is not Goober.”

The dog barks, ears perked up, wagging her tail, and looking directly at Frankie.

“Oh,” you laugh, “Babe, I think she just told you you’re wrong and that her name is, in fact, Goober.”

“Stop it,” he says, pointing at you before hanging up another one of the flyers.

—

“Would it be such a bad idea to keep her?” You ask while filling the dog’s food and water dish. The dog is patiently waiting for you to place them on the floor for her.

“Yes it would.”

“Frankie,” you groan, hand on your stomach, and bending down to set them on the floor, “She’s so cute though!”

“Doesn’t matter how cute she is,” Frankie shakes his head, “We shouldn’t keep her.”

“Babe,” you say flatly, “It’s been a week and a half and we haven’t heard a single thing from anyone!”

“Good morning, Mom!” Nora beams, coming into the kitchen, “And good morning Princess Goober!”

“Morning,” Missy grumbles, “Goober!” She says perking up a little and petting the dog on the head.

“Stop calling her that!” Frankie says sternly, “She’s not our dog. End of discussion.”

“Oh,” Nora says, glaring at him, “Morning Frank.”

“Are you guys ready for school?” He asks, ignoring Nora’s glare.

“Yeah,” Missy yawns. Nora just grumbles still glaring at him.

“Alrighty then,” you hum, “Come here. Hugs!”

Both girls embrace you one either side, giving them both a tight squeeze before letting them go.

“Have a good day and Nora,” you smile, “Please behave.”

She rolls her eyes, following Missy into the garage with a huff. Frankie shakes his head, walking towards you, wrapping his arms around you.

“That girl’s gonna give me more gray hairs than the baby,” Frankie mutters into your temple.

“That makes the both of us,” you laugh, giving him a chaste kiss before he’s off to take the girls to school and go to work.

—

“Goober!” The girls shriek, bursting into the house through the garage. Goober’s tail starts wagging like crazy and she pees all over the floor.

“Goober Goo!” You groan, “Not again!”

Goober just looks at you, panting, tongue hanging out to the side.

“Can we take her to the backyard?” Missy asks, putting her backpack on the hook.

“Sure,” Frankie grunts, bending down to clean up the pee. Goober pokes her head under his armpit, while he wipes the pee up and begins licking his face, “Okay, okay. Yes, I see you.”

“Think she likes the way your beard tastes, Dad,” Missy giggles.

“Must be leftovers in there,” he grumbles, rubbing Goober’s ears.

“Oh! Watch this!” Nora exclaims, “Come here Goober! Come here!”

Goober pushes past Frankie’s arm, walking in her pee to get to Nora.

“Damn dog,” Frankie mumbles, motioning for you to hand him the Clorox wipes.

Goober plops down in front of Nora. She grabs one of Goober’s ears and begins to scratch the inside of it, causing Goober’s back leg to violently shake. 

“What is she doing?!” Missy asks, starting to giggle.

“You found her puppy spot!” You exclaim with a laugh.

Frankie looks up to see what you are all laughing at, watching the saggy dog’s body jiggle and starts laughing.

“What the hell?” Frankie laughs, shaking his head, “Think she is a Goober afterall. Go on, take her outside now, I’m sure she’s got more pee in her. Don’t want her pissin’ in the house more than she already has.”

The girls take her outside, taking turns throwing the floppy stuffed animal they gave her that she had ripped the stuffing out of.

“Babe,” You smile watching the girls play with Goober outside, “I think we have a dog now.”

“I think you’re right,” Frankie groans, standing up, throwing away the Clorox wipes and throwing the towel into the hamper in the laundry room.

“We can’t get rid of her,” you pout, “The girls love her too much. Frankie, I love her too much and no one’s claimed her!”

Frankie finishes washing his hands at the sink, turning around, crossing his arms with a big sigh.

“Fine,” he sighs, “We’ll keep the damn dog.”

—

“What ya making, babe?” Frankie asks, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, “Smells really fucking good.”

“Spaghetti,” you grumble, “Only thing the girls seem to want to eat right now.”

Nora rushes into the kitchen, observing the fridge, rearranging some of the pictures on it.

“What are ya doin’ kid?” Frankie asks, looking behind his shoulder.

“Moving some stuff around,” she says snarkily, “This coupon is expired. Can I throw it away?”

“Yes,” you and Frankie say at the same time.

“Cool,” she says, throwing it away and running out of the kitchen.

You continue stirring the sauce, trying not to let the smell get to you.

“Need me to take over?” Frankie asks, kissing your temple.

“Oh my god,” you huff, “Please.”

Frankie laughs softly, kissing the spot on your neck that meets your shoulder. Then moves you to the side when Nora and Missy come rushing back in. Goober following closely behind them.

“I think we should put it here,” Nora says, pointing to the empty spot she made.

“What if though,” Missy says, rearranging different pictures, creating a new empty space, “We put it here?”

“Hmm, yeah, I like that better,” Nora agrees.

Missy grabs one of the magnets off the fridge, placing a new picture on the fridge, right alongside the picture of the four of you together, underneath the picture of Missy and Nora, and above the picture of Frankie with the guys.

“There!” Nora beams, “Goober is on the fridge, that means she’s family!”

“No take backs!” Missy says, pointing at Frankie.

HOW DID I MISS THIS?! This is so sweet!!!!

No Words Needed feat. Marcus Pike & f!reader

a @iamasaddie challenge fic | Rated: PG | word count: 694 warnings: body insecurities, self esteem issues, loud music, internalized fatphobia, sweet fluff, no smut A/N: Thank you to @noxturnalpascal + @strang3lov3 for their eyes and minds 💜 also, darn you @iamasaddie for having me write more fluffy Marcus!

Aries: Competitive but insecure

There is nothing an Aries cannot achieve once they set their mind to it—no mountain is too high. However, you will also find them nursing a hidden imposter syndrome that can chip away at their confidence if allowed free rein. 

+++++

The music was loud. Too loud. Marcus had made himself come to this music festival, desperate to spend more time with you, but he was getting close to his breaking point with the incessant drum beats and the bright, flashing lights.

He felt out of place. He was older than the majority of the people swarming around him, not to mention heavier - feeling the full effects of his weight with his tight clothes and sweating body, but it was the over stimulation of the sights and sounds that had him just-about ready to leave without seeing you.

A younger couple ran into him as they giddily moved to get closer to the stage, bumping into his distended belly. It made him feel even more insecure about his presence, but it also ignited a determination in him to find you. He’d made it this far, he needed to see it through. 

Wading through the sea of bodies, he kept his head up, eyes scanning over the crowd trying to find you. You’d told him you’d have pink glow stick bunny ears on, and it was all he had to go on, since all cellphones were confiscated at the door. Marcus disliked that immensely; his history in the FBI leaving him not feeling comforted by random people in security t-shirts while simultaneously being untethered from his contact to the real world. 

As his mind was just about to delve into how he could levy a complaint and prove that his thoughts were correct on the matter, he spotted your glowing pink ears, bopping up and down to the music a few rows away. He smiled as he got closer, admiring the view of your cute butt in pink and purple sequined hot pants, gyrating to the same beat your ears bobbed around to. 

The insecurities he had before were replaced with ones entirely focused on you; he silently prayed that he wouldn’t fuck this up by being too needy or not tough enough. He couldn’t help but compare himself to the younger, thinner guys dancing around in various states of undress, showing off their chiseled, lithe bodies. His own heavier form was covered in a pink t-shirt and a pair of bright beach shorts, both approaching the ‘too-small’ range of fit. But the moment you turned and your eyes met his, all of his fears melted away. 

He offered you his trademark sweet smile and you in turn scampered up to him excitedly, grabbing his hands in yours and placing a pair of ear plugs on a beaded cord in his hands. A crescendo of feeling swelled up inside that you’d thought about his comfort enough to bring these for him. There would be no way to hear what the other was saying over the loud music anyway, but the way you both looked at each other, no words were needed to start putting Marcus’ concerns and self esteem issues to rest.

Your hand moved up to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a hug, while the other subtly rested on his chubby love handle. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you back, trying to push aside his knee-jerk reaction to pull your hand away from feeling how big he was. You felt him stiffen a bit at where your hand rested and you gave his slight overhang a gentle squeeze. 

He pulled apart from you, eyes searching yours for some insincerity or teasing, but all he saw was you smiling up at him with genuine affection. 

The hand that was behind his neck slid down his chest and landed on his belly, and your mouth moved. The loud music absorbed the sound of your voice, but Marcus could read your lips. 

“I like you, Marcus.”

He blushed and smiled bashfully, finally content in the knowledge that he had nothing to be insecure about with you.

no more taglist - follow @beefnotes for fic notifs!

Why did it get so hot in the baseball stadium after the game?

All the fans left.

I can't say this is an original, but I'm spreading dad jokes to the team for scouts.

Okay but I love this 🤣😂 I’m going to have to tell my friend who loves dad jokes and also my husband

This was bittersweet, funny and all around a good read! 😍 Nothing I’d love more than being in a time loop with Dieter

Down This Chain of Days - Dieter Bravo x reader time loop rom com [COMPLETED] - Masterlist

Title: Down This Chain of Days

Author: @ghotifishreads

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Series word count:

Summary: The thing is, when Dieter Bravo turns up at your sister’s semi-formal desert wedding wearing a fleece coat, tropical shirt, and swimming trunks instead of a tux, how are you meant to know it’s out-of-character time loop madness-induced behavior for him? You just thought he was a Hollywood eccentric. 

Which he absolutely is, as you’ll come to know intimately when you get sucked into the time loop too.

An AU of the delightful and nihilistic time loop rom com Palm Springs.

Thank you to @ozarkthedog who transformed Pedro's Corona ad into Dieter in the desert:

Warnings: Includes suicidal ideation and discussion, plus actual suicides (that don’t stick because it’s a time loop) and really glib attitudes about them, on a par with the films Groundhog’s Day or Palm Springs. Drinking. Alcohol as a coping mechanism. Seriously, so much drinking. Drug use mentioned, and they take mushrooms. PinV sex. Violence never too gory or overtly described, but includes various characters experiencing the following (here be spoilers):  shot with a crossbow; falls and breaks teeth; hit by a car; commits or experiences vehicular manslaughter; tased by a cop.

Reader is mentioned as being older than her 20s, exact age is unspecified. Reader wears a long purple dress, and has hair but type and length are not mentioned. No other physical description is applied. 

Please do reach out and let me know if I’ve left anything out that should be included in the warnings. 

Unbeta’d. Title from the song At Last by Neko Case.

🔞Over 18s only, minors dni! 🔞 I do not give permission for my work to be republished, reposted, or translated.

Chapter 1 // Day 1

Chapter 2 // Day 7

Chapter 3 // Day 432

Chapter 4 // Day 585

Chapter 5 // Day Unknown

[COMPLETED]

Love me a desperate Frankie 😍

heaven's a thing | frankie morales x f!reader

masterlist | frankie masterlist | kofi | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

pairing: sub!frankie morales x female!reader rating: 18+ explicit word count: ~2k

summary: frankie loves when you go away for work. or, actually - he loves what you have planned for him when you come home. warnings etc: porn with absolutely no plot, smut, d/s dynamics, mami kink, orgasm denial, implied edging, sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, bondage, sexting, a sprinkling of humiliation kink, oral (m receiving), cum eating + sharing, unprotected piv sex, overstimulation, nipple play, hypothetical lactation kink (dw about it), we're biting the boy, pet names, reader wears lingerie, aftercare, frankie pov. no use of y/n.

a/n: not beta'd, we die like men. happy national catfish day to my favourite soldier. bye bye!

PART ONE | PART TWO

Frankie loves it when you go out of town for work.

Well–no. That’s not really true. 

When you’re gone, he feels like half a person, like huge chunks of his heart have been torn apart by shrapnel and the earth beneath his feet is one misstep away from turning to quicksand under his toes.

But if you never went away, he’d never get to know how good it feels when you finally come back. 

And anyway, you never really leave him without some sort of structure to uphold. You know what he needs. 

You can edge but don’t come. 

Send me a picture of that pretty cock.

Strip. Wait for me on the chair in the bedroom. Don’t touch. Mami will be home soon. 

That last one had just come over an hour ago now. He thinks. He’s lost track of time, if he’s honest, waiting for you on the kitchen chair you’d left in the middle of his room before you’d gone away. Naked, just like you’d asked.

Another forty-five minutes pass and now he knows you’re just torturing him on purpose. The realization only makes him harder. 

He’s aching by the time he hears your key turn in the lock downstairs.

“Hello?” you call, a knowing lilt in your voice.

“Up here,” Frankie replies hoarsely. 

Frankie listens–as best he can with all the blood rushing in his ears–to your slow, deliberate movements in the entryway. You take your time slipping off your coat and shoes, ascending the stairs one step at a time, stopping in the hallway bathroom on your way toward his bedroom just to keep him on the edge that much longer. 

When you finally find him, he knows he must look wrecked. Sweat beaded across his bare chest, cock hard and leaking against his heaving stomach. You’ve changed, donning some black lingerie number he’s not sure he’s seen before. He feels like he could come at just the sight of you, but you wouldn’t like that, so he doesn’t. 

Some mixture of desperation and missing you makes tears sprout in his eyes though, and then you smile at him all proud and a broken little sob escapes his throat.

“Hey, mami,” he breathes. 

Frankie watches you saunter into the room, closer and closer until you’re hinging at the waist and taking his face in your hands and then finally, finally kissing. He sighs into your parted lips, feeding you his tongue with a feverish kind of eagerness. You suck it between your teeth, comb your fingers back through his hair, gently scratching a path down the nape of his neck, along his arms down to his wrists. You stop there, gathering his hands behind the back of the chair and smiling against his lips when you swallow his responding gasp. You’re still kissing him as you effortlessly bind his wrists together with something soft and silky. 

When you’re done, you rest your palms on his thighs and sink your nails into his flesh and Frankie’s brain goes all fuzzy and hot. 

“Hi, baby,” you hum. You flick your tongue across his lips and Frankie shudders, cranes to catch your mouth again. But you pull back too soon–just out of reach.

“Ah-ah,” you chide him with a smirk. “You’ve been so patient, Frankie. Don’t spoil it now.”

“Sorry,” he chokes. The last thing he’s gunning for right now is a punishment. Any other day maybe, but not today. “Sorry, mami. Just missed you.”

You hum, bending to connect your lips to his sticky chest, inhaling deeply. And he senses it there, in the way you breathe him in with a contented little sigh; behind all your patience and unwavering control…he knows you missed him too.

“You look so pretty,” you whisper, just before you bite down on one of his nipples.

Frankie yelps, arching in place in search of more. You just giggle, unperturbed as you press his hips back down into his seat and draw a line with your tongue up his neck to his ear. 

“Were you a good boy while I was gone, baby?” you ask. Your fingers inch towards his cock, so close now. He’s panting like a fucking dog, can feel warmth spreading across his cheeks and chest. But you’re not done torturing him yet.

“Yes,” he vows, and it’s true. “I didn’t come. Waited for you.”

“I know,” you smile. You nip on his ear lobe and his dick pulses between your bodies. “‘Cause you’d tell me if you did, wouldn’t you? Good boys don’t lie, do they, Frankie?”

“No, mami.” He’s squirming now, can’t help it. You let him. “I swear. Please.”

His plea slips out before he can think any better of it. You’re just so fucking close to touching him and he missed you so much and he’s been aching to come for three long, lonely days and he can’t wait any longer, he can’t–

“Oh, poor boy,” you tut, mocking him with a pout to match his own as you sink to the floor between his legs. He can feel your breath on his cock and it makes goosebumps sprout across his thighs. 

“Look at you,” you muse, stealing his breath as you drag the tip of one finger along his throbbing length. You laugh and Frankie whines. “So hard for mami. I need you to hold on just a little longer for me, though. Okay?”

You don’t wait for him to agree. 

You’re toying with him, circling the wet head of his cock with your thumb, tracing patterns along his shaft, every movement featherlight and slow and so fucking cruel. 

Then you ghost your lips over the space just above his balls and Frankie fucking weeps. Your tongue mimics the patterns you’d drawn with your finger, a torturous up and down and up and down that sears his skin and sets his nerve endings on fire. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, resisting the urge to writhe. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. If he behaves you’ll give him more. If he behaves you’ll let him come. 

But you haven’t told him to stay quiet, so…he talks.

“Missed your mouth so fucking much, mami,” he rambles while you offer him barely more than fleeting kitten licks. “Missed your tongue–fuck–you’re so good to me. Make me feel so fucking good. Wanna give you all my cum, mami, want you to see how good I was. Waited–I fucking waited.”

You chuckle against him, moving to take one of his heavy balls in your mouth. 

“Did you save it all for me, baby boy?” you ask. “All this cum in here–that’s all for me?”

You swirl your tongue around his balls, sucking at him lightly before popping them out from between your wet lips. 

“Yeah,” Frankie groans. You smile up at him, holding his needy stare, and then at last, you wrap your fingers around his length.

“Yeah,” he repeats brokenly, crumbling before your eyes as you patiently start to stroke him in long, easy movements. “Yeah, mami, fuck–”

His head falls back behind him while you pump and pump and pump him, not in any rush at all.

“Look at me, Francisco,” you instruct him after several long moments of blissful torture. 

His head snaps up at once, but he quickly regrets it.

Your other hand is buried between your thighs and you’ve pulled your bra to the side, revealing one hardened nipple for him. He wants to bite it. 

He’s going to come. 

“Oh, fuck–are you touching your pussy, mami?” he asks in a flurry.

“Mhmm.”

He forgets whatever he’d been going to say next because then your mouth is on him again, pressing wet kisses to every inch of his cock. You focus your fist upwards, stroking him faster now, harder. 

You’re trying to make him come. 

“Mami, please, fuck, I’m so close–I can’t–”

“Shhh,” you breathe against him. “You can, mi cielo. You can come. My good boy. Show mami all that cum.”

You keep talking like that until he breaks, his pent-up orgasm shattering through all his disciplined resolve. His vision blurs as hot cum spurts from him wildly, painting his stomach and his thighs, your fist and your face. You giggle and moan at the needy sounds he makes, the way he just keeps coming even when he’s sure you’ve milked him dry. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants when the crest begins to crash and the tension in his tummy fades into a warm, golden glow. It’s all he can do just to watch in blissed-out wonder as you scoop up the spend on his skin with your tongue, tilt his head back with a hand in his hair and spit into his open mouth. 

You wait until he swallows and then you kiss him–hard.

You kiss him so fiercely, he doesn’t notice until it’s too late that you’re straddling him, notching the head of his oversensitive cock at your warm, wet entrance and dropping down, down, down.

He groans out a string of curses through gritted teeth, knowing better than to protest, even if the overstimulation is making fresh tears prick at his eyes. Even if his skin burns when you grind on him, rolling your hips till you find where it feels good, sighing in a way that lets him know you’ve waited for this just as long as he has. 

“You’re okay, Frankie,” you tell him firmly. “It’s mami’s turn now. Been dreaming about coming all over this big, pretty cock.”

He nods resolutely and then you get to work. 

He wishes he could help, but he’ll gladly take this too. This perfect view of you riding his oversensitive cock, tits poking out of your pretty lingerie, wet pussy swallowing him and making space for him inside you. He sees the cracks in your composure when you get like this, when you use him to get yourself off, desperate for release the closer you get. The stinging ache in his cock turns back to pleasure soon enough as you drip and stretch around him, the roll of your hips growing frantic as your near you impending edge.

He should wait for your instruction, but your tits are right there and he needs to offer you something. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, baby, suck on mami’s tits,” you whine as he closes his lips around one of your perked nubs. He does as you ask, suckling at each of your nipples with a low, reverent groan, grateful at just the chance to taste you finally. Maybe later he’ll tell you how he’s imagining warm, white wetness spilling down his chin as he sucks and sucks and sucks at you. How the thought of drinking you down–swallowing everything you’d give him–makes his cock twitch between your walls. 

Later. Maybe. 

“I’m gonna come, Frankie,” you warn him.

“Please,” he sighs. You clutch at him like a life preserver, fingers hooked around the back of his skull, pressing his face between your breasts as your hips begin to stutter. Frankie smiles, smothered and spent, right where he belongs. “Please,” he says again, but he knows it’s too low for you to hear. 

He knows the moment it hits you. Knows the sounds you make and the way you clench around him, the wet gush of your cunt and the shake in your thighs. He’s right on the edge all over again, his own climax just within grasp if you’d only give him permission.

“Come with me, Frankie,” you moan, like you can read his mind. “Come again for mami.”

And so he does, spilling inside your still-pulsing pussy and riding out the waves with you.

When it ends, your lips are on his again, catching each of his appreciative, laboured breaths.

“I missed you,” you whisper softly and Frankie feels like he could cry again. 

When you’ve both come down, you ease off him carefully to free him from his restraints, and no sooner is Frankie scooping you up in his arms and crashing down into bed with you pressed into his chest.

“You did so good, Frankie,” you murmur, over and over as you pet the curls at the back of his neck. “You’re so patient. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby,” he sighs, squeezing you in a little tighter. “Thank you.”

HELLO!

I've brought you these strawberry boba for topping your ice cream sundae!

Thought I do realize this can be a polarizing choice, as far as toppings go. What polarizing choice does your favorite Pedro boy make in regards to his own ice cream? Is he putting anything weird on top?

As someone who is pretty plain when it comes to their ice cream topping, I would definitely give those strawberry bobas a try on my own sundae!

Dieter though? Oh boy, Dieter is gonna make sure to have the weed gummies AND KitKats for his toppings, along with a mix of strawberry and chocolate syrup. Maybe even put some sprinkles for the fun colors, probably steal some of those strawberry bobas from me as well. More the better for Dieter when it comes to his toppings!

Bonus: This is also why I firmly believe he’d be the messiest ice cream eater 🥰